Gambit by Emmanuel Iduma

Author:Emmanuel Iduma
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Mantle
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

DAUGHTERS OF BAPPA AVENUE

Abubakar Adam Ibrahim

The house woke up around her and the aroma of her meat pies hanging indolently in the air. Asabe was three days into building her pastry empire, which she hoped would expand beyond the confines of Magajiya's grubby house. She had saved carefully, stuffing money she earned from braiding hair into a piggy bank.

After spending many nights making plans and drawing up recipes while chewing on her pen, she decided it was time. She held the piggy bank high above her head and dropped it. The sound of the ceramic smashing would linger. Later she would remember it as the sound of dreams breaking.

"Will that be enough?" her mother asked from the mattress, looking at the scattered notes. "If it's not, tell me."

"It will be," Asabe said shortly, gathering the bills around her.

"You can't . . ."

"Mom, I can handle it," she said, looking at her mother. "I will handle it."

She started on Saturday morning, dishing out complimentary tasters to the women in Magajiya's house, who insisted on being called ladies. By Monday she was ready to take it beyond the house. She went out into the compound, where she and her mother cooked just by the door, and startled the groggy morning with the aroma of her dreams.

Just when a fresh batch of meat pies was protesting in the hot oil, Magajiya's portly head popped out from behind her wooden door at the far end of the long compound.

"Asabe, for God's sake, what are you up to?!"

"Good morning, Magajiya," Asabe sang.

"What on earth are you up to, child? There are people here still sleeping."

"Almost done, Magajiya," Asabe said, not looking up from kneading her dough. She didn't want Magajiya's swarthy face with the usual run-down make-up from the previous night to bring her bad luck.

"Where is your mother, girl?"

"Out since last night, Magajiya."

"You and that mother of yours are nothing but trouble, I tell you. And better be careful so you don't burn down my house, you hear." Magajiya hissed just before her door creaked shut.

"Hag," Asabe muttered.

Ngozi, the slim, childlike woman, who lived two doors away, came out in her pink chemise, one strap having slipped off her shoulder.

"Asabe, how far?"

Asabe looked up at Ngozi's tired face and couldn't help noticing how flat her chest was without the padded bra. (By evening, her boobs would miraculously be transformed into luscious lumps). Ngozi, like Asabe's mother, was one of the dozen resident ladies at Magajiya's house. There were also the twenty or so off campus ladies who only rented rooms by the hour for their business, but lived elsewhere and actually had some kind of other life during the day.

"Ngo, I thought you were out for the night."

Ngozi hissed. "Don't mind those useless men. They just wasted my time for nothing. Why are you working so early, is the business booming already?"

"I hope so. I want to take some to school and see how it goes."

"Good girl. You have a good business head, you know.

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