"You were carried away." My driver said. "Did your legs hurt that bad?"
Did I mention my driver was male, but the kind of male who talks and behaves like a teenage girl? Always that shameless and fearless like he was shot in the balls.
I gave him no response, because I was sure he saw and knew what happened in that hospital room, how I lost weight and balance at the sight of the white man, and how I had been searching the orthopedic ward with my eyes going clockwise and anti-clockwise to find him.
"So sorry, ma'am, but next time, you should stick hard on your cover shoes and flat sandals." He added to the salt he had already thrown into the sore.
"When last time I paid you well?" I asked.
"You always pay well." He replied.
"This month and next won't be fair."
I broke off from his aid and limped to the car.
He followed to help me open the door but I opened it and hopped in before he could get to me.
"That was too fast, you could…"
"Shut up and take me home." I snapped.
"Okay, ma'am."
***
"Ma'am, you don't look well."
That was what my vegetable vendor offered me as a welcome home package.
I swallowed and smiled in response while I limped to a seat and sat down. My driver did a good job of getting my bag to where it was meant to be, and he did another good job of using a different exit.
"So, what did you bring me?" I looked around to ensure none of the supposed domestic workers I hired just the previous week were not around, eavesdropping or merely listening.
"We already gathered a few more clips, all we await is your writing and the other to dish the clips out to the internet."
She announced and lowered her bag of veggies. Cucumbers, garden eggs, cherries and bananas. Those are good combos for fruit salad.
That's what I do daily, making fruit salad out of the fruits I receive from the vendor. "I'll do that tonight," I whispered.
"Wait till I review the clip and dish out the order you require."
"Okay." She nodded.
"Very good." I widened my arms and urged her with a nod to fall in for a hug.
She did that warmly, but not without passing what I needed from her into my clothes. A flash drive that could be held to my body by my clothes till I'm ready to use it.
"Have a nice day." She broke the hug, and like everyone else whose business with me is finished, she edged her way out of the big balcony where we both had our conversation.
"Thanks," I smirked and turned to the door of my house. A big house of course. A politician and elite of Abidjan is expected to live in nothing other than the big house African politicians are known for.
Of course, I used to live a simple life, until I realized that being present in the political jamboree of Abidjan would aid my long-time aim of doing and achieving things I would deem personal for the time being.
I walked into the living room; my living room. The furniture here is not the regular one you see in a commoner's house.
They were all from France, Paris to be precise, that is, from the soul of our colonizer.
"Ma'am." My handmaiden came.
"Welcome."
"Thank you, Susan." I walked past her. "The veggies vendor brought us something.
Get them and make me fruit salad."
"Okay, ma'am." She scurried for the door. she didn't even bother to ask me why I was limping.
Maybe she was merely too careless to have noticed it, or my driver could have spread the gossip.
Silly boy!
I made for my study table, the one by the large window of my pretty living room, and took a seat.
One of my laptops was on it, and a few books, the titles I got from the bookshop far from the estate where I live, and a bowl of pens and crayons.
"Gosh." I scuffed. "What a tough day to begin with, and that silly man, he wants me to join their bloody party."
Yes, I am fond of it; talking to myself when I'm alone, but this time, I had no idea I wasn't the only one in the room.
I had company, but the company was quiet, waiting on one of the sofas in the living room for me to finish.
"And that doctor, gosh." I turned on my laptop and slipped the flash drive I got from the veggies dealer, but just then, he cleared his throat.
I looked up and slipped the flash off from the laptop.
"I heard it all, Sita." The fellow on the sofa said. "I heard everything. The politician, and the doctor."
He rose and spurned to me, his eyes a quiet glance, and his smile, a gentle smirk, the sought that meant so much. I turned off my laptop and rose to my feet.
Baba, the name we call him in our secret society of spies and elites working towards eradicating Abidjan of corruption.
Baba is one of the lieutenants. A big one at that.
"Leave what you heard to whom they belong to." I raised a brow. "And mind you, the worst you can do is sneak into my house like a rattlesnake."
His face broke into a warm smile, so did mine.
"Good day, Sita." He took a seat right next to the window and crossed his legs like gentlemen do, his fingers rubbing profusely against each other like he was in panic.
"We have a big problem, Sita," Baba said with a muffled voice, his words a bit hard for me to understand. "A big one at hand."