Chapter I

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The honking coming from cars, the chattering from passerbys, hawkers yelling from the top of their voices advertising their products.

Who knew Lagos State would be this busy on a Sunday?

Its my third time here since 10 years ago, first time was when I was just 6, I was visiting for my Aunt's husband's funeral. Second time was when I came to spend the holiday with them, it was fun because I even attended summer lesson in my cousin's school. Now I'm here to live with them due to financial issues at home.

Ever since Baba got involved in a motor accident, things got real tough for us. Baba could no longer walk or drive his bike anymore, the only source that brought food on the table.

Mama on the other hand is a fruit seller, she sells fruits for a living and it is what she uses to pay the school fees of I and my younger sister.

Brother Dotun, the reckless one, he just walks around the streets of Ogun state with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. I don't know if someone put a charm on him but he doesn't want to work, he just wants to sit and drink till he's satisfied, funny thing is, he's never satisfied.

"Oreke, do you care for some oranges?" The voice of my Aunt rings in my ear interrupting my thoughts.

Oranges?

Is there ever a time I don't want Oranges?, That fruit is Godsent. Back in Ogun state, I used to steal some Oranges from Mama's shop.

"Yes ma" I reply with my eyes fixed on the road.

"Driver, park the car, I see an orange seller by that side" My Aunt instructs the driver from the passenger's seat.

"Yes Ma'am" The driver replies. Obeying her instructions, he parks by the corner of the road, winds down the dark glasses of the car window and yells 'Osan'

It is a little girl, maybe around 10 years old hawking the oranges,  she is holding the hand of a boy who should be around her age or maybe older than her. I'm judging by height.

The driver calls out again and this time she hears. She runs towards us real fast abandoning the hand of the boy. The way she ran, I bet if I saw her randomly I'd think someone was chasing after her.

My aunt winds down the window  close to her.

"Mad-am, mad-am, I get ripe orange o, sweet one" The girl says bringing down the tray from her head.

"How much for one?" My aunt asks eyeing the girl with some sort of disdain. I wonder why.

"50 naira ma, cheap cheap, see the thing big seff" The girl deadpans flashing the orange in our faces.

50 naira?

I hold the urge to exclaim, how can this small thing be so expensive?

Something Mama will sell for just 30 naira.

The hustle in Lagos must be really hard.

"Okay, Sell 5 for me, I hope you have change" My Aunt says.

The girl nods her head, she selects 5 oranges for us and helps us slice it into two pieces each.

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