Little kunle wakes up by 8 a.m, he isn’t surprised to find out he is home alone ,its always the same routine everyday. His father leaves home early to drive his danfo around Lagos while his mother hawks pap in the neighbouring street, she also has to leave early to serve the early risers. Kunle yawns, tosses and turns as the hunger pangs from last night rekindles in his stomach. He gets up and leaves the house, there’s no point staying at home,there’s neither food nor money there. He was ignorant of where he was going but at least there were more chances of him getting breakfast on the street rather than in that house. As he stepped out of his compound , he saw a 100 Naira note lying on the floor, abandoned. He looks around to be sure no one is watching and happily picks it, without bothering to wipe the sand off it and runs to the nearest kiosk. “Aboki I want to buy bread” he says, joy written all over his face.
The mallam takes the money and squeezes it into his pocket, adding to the wad of naira notes. He sells the loaf of bread to the little boy unhesistantly as he waits for the next customer.
Iya David pants as she stirs the pot of steaming egusi soap, she quickly checks the ogbono soup cooking on the next stove , to be sure it isn’t burning and then moves back to the egusi soup . She was multi tasking as she needed to get the food ready before 11 when she would venture out to the bank nearby. She made a lot of money by selling to their workers during their break and she couldnt afford to be even a minute late. Just then, the fire on one of the stoves goes off, she hisses as she realises she doesn’t have any match stick left to put it back on. She rushes to the Mallam’s shop that’s just a stone throw from her house. “Oga, give me matches ,quick, quick, abeg” she shouts .
The Mallam gives her the box of match sticks, collects the 200 Naira She is handing him and searches for the 100 Naira he kept in his pocket not too long ago. She is stamping her foot throughout, hurrying him up as she hopes the soup she left on fire doesnt get burnt. He finally finds the money and she drags it from him, mistakenly tearing it. “Ewo!” She exclaims, but the Mallam is quick to find a cellotape lying somewhere in his kiosk and patches it up.
Luckily for Iya David the food gets ready in time and she hurries to the bank. On her way she meets some beggars, pleading for alms and offering prayers in return. “Give and it will come back to you” so says the good book, she quickly pulls out the 100 Naira note from her bra where she keeps her money to prevent theft, she notices an oil stain on it,must have been her hands she didnt wash well. Nevertheless she hands it over to a little girl leading a blind man. Oil never stopped anyone from spending money. “Amen,amen” she says as they pray for her, she knew she would surely make good sales today.
Six hours later, Mr Ubong leaves the office after a long stressful day , he is worn out and craves food and sleep. He rushes to the bus stop but then remembers all he has on him is a 1000 Naira note. He isnt ready for any bus conductor’s insults this evening, so he searches in vain for change. He notices some beggars standing on one side of the road, he approaches the little girl and hands her the 1000 Naira note and asks for 900 Naira change in return. “Yaba, Yaba” he can hear a conductor calling,he collects it happily and rushes to enter the bus.
He wipes the sweat off his face with his hand and relaxes as the bus moves on, he should be home in an hour if Lagos traffic decides to cooperate with him. The bus fare is 100 Naira and he is glad he has change. He takes out the 100 Naira note they had given him, wetting it with the sweat on his hand. He inspects the money, dust stain, a tear covered with cellotape, oil stain and now wet from sweat. He silently prays the conductor wouldnt reject it as he hands it over to him. He heaves a sigh of relief as the conductor collects it without a complaint.
“Conductor my change o” a lady shouts , trying to raise her voice over the loud music the driver is playing. The conductor gives her an 100 Naira note that has obviously seen better days. “Don’t you have a better one?” she asks, holding the tip of the money with her left hand, obviously irritated by it “Me I can’t collect this kind of money o” she complains. The conductor murmurs some incoherent words and searches through his short’s pocket at the same time asking the other passengers if they have any better one, but unfortunately he doesn’t get any. Just then, the wind blows and takes the poor naira note with it, she doesn’t go after it, after all it’s only 100 Naira, big girls don’t fall their hand like that.
The 100 Naira is left on the road as the bus zooms off, to be picked by someone who would see it as a miraculous provision by the God who works in mysterious ways, and the cycle continues again.