Stronger Than Pain

Chapter Thirty Seven

"So?" Aunty asked adjusting her rear mirror so she could see mum.

"We search for that hotel" Mum answered nonchalantly.

Aunty Mma slowed to a stop before swerving off the road and into a street whose road was plastered with red mud. A line of old shops built with rusted zinc greeted us as we throttled on. Children were all and about the place, forcing aunty Mma to slow down since her horns wouldn't stop them from running past her moving vehicle.

An angry and persistent blast from her had heard the children skidding to a stop, with angry faces of their mothers walking out from the various shops to know who was apparently disturbing their peace.

Aunty put the car into motion, as we scurried past them and further down into the street. It took over a minute before we pulled up beside the first concrete miniature shop we'd ever seen.

Turning the ignition off, aunty tilted her body towards mum, her eyes clouded in thick sadness as she spoke "Are you sure about this Nekky? Is there any little chance that you'll change your mind?" Silently, mum shook her head.

"Alright then" Aunty muttered grabbing and pushing the door open. "Let me ask these men for directions on how we can find a hotel or whatever around here"

She stepped out to meet with three older men sitting on a long metal bench in front of the miniature shop. The small wooden signpost resting on a stick beside them read "POOL OFFICE" with chalk writings about apparent match fixes written below it. The old men may not have heard us pull to a stop as they were still engrossed in the draft board game resting comfortably on their laps.

I watched as aunty walked hurriedly towards them and the cheery conversation that occurred thereafter. A minute later, she was in the car with us.

"They said there's a guest house in the next street, that means we'll have to head back to the road or cut it off through this street" Aunty announced to no one in particular as she jerks the car back to life.

"Let's cut it off from here" Mum and I replied in unison. Aunty shrugs and the car pulled forward.
***
The guest house was nothing less than a guest house which suits the environs it found itself in. The bungalow was old and cracked and from a glance, appeared like an abandoned living house. When looked closely, one would notice it used to brag of a beautiful green paint.

The reception was behind the building in what appears to be a small store room whose original little window has been broken off and replaced with a very large one, from where the body of the supposed receptionist bulges from.

She was very robust, forcefully fair thanks to all the bleaching cream in the market with her green veins popping out with reckless abandon above her skin. Her nails were badly done showing lumps of caked nail polish forced on them. Her lips were coloured red with her brows completely shaved off and replaced with tiny slanted black lines, drawn using a weeping black eye pencil. She wore a discoloured white button down shirt with brown patches of sweat visible under her armpit. I couldn't make out what she was wearing below as they were hidden behind the large window.

The receptionist was a lot to take in and for a long moment, I lost myself while gaping at her.

"Uh uh" Mum nudged my shoulder while clearing her throat which brought me back to reality. I readjust, watching the scene unfold before me.

One obvious thing that this guest house doesn't lack is customers. For the past five minutes we've been standing here, there have been a huge flow of men and women, both old and young hurrying in and out of the building with ease.

Some would pick up a key after paying a token and in the next hour, would be out bidding a hearty farewell to the ever smiling woman.

Every customer who approached have a thing or two to say to her, each reiterating how important she is to them with many squeezing Naira notes into her palms as they make their way in.