It was another day, so bright and full of hope. Miriam woke up early as usual, did her house chores, took her bath, got out her plastic basin and left the house to begin her business day.
This had become a pattern for her every day of the week except Sundays. From house to store and then straight to the street where she does her business.
The store - as they fondly called it - was a mini warehouse where different brands of drinks (both soft and strong) were kept for wholesale purchase.
It also had a cold room where ice blocks were made and soft drinks were kept chilled for retailers (hawkers) who collected them in certain quantities according to individual capability and resold to the actual consumers.
For hawkers, payments for there goods collected were usually done at the end of the market day creating a fair playing ground for the poor who couldn't afford large business startup capital to be involved in the game.
For Miriam, market so far has been good today. She'd sold more than half of her goods, a feat one doesn't get to achieve everyday and it was not even mid-day yet. This achievement put Miriam in a really good mood.
She made sure to reserve a bottle of coke and 7up each for Tony and his friend, Alex because she'd come to know these to be their favourite drinks and she really wouldn't want to be the one in the position of denying them of it, especially Alex.
Three days ago, something happened. When Miriam got to the site, she sold the last 7up in her collections to someone else before Alex came around, he missed it just by a couple of minutes. Alex's response to that, though very humorous, was not anything she'd want to witness anytime soon. Ever since then, It'd become their wordless code that she'd always reserve a bottle of 7up and coke for each of them.
At the moment, Miriam was at the site. Handing Tony their drinks. "What is this thing you people are building?" she inquired.
This question had always been in her mind ever since her first time here but she couldn't bring herself to ask with her 'wall' up which was already crumbling.
She stared amazed at the structure with mouth agape, taking in its size and beauty. She tends to see beauty in anything that's new and amazing to her.
Towering above any other structure within sight, it consisted of networks of iron bars intersecting to form intricate designs and round objects that looked like the big bass drum in a drum set, hung randomly at different angles. It was magnificent and awe inspiring.
"Oh! this?" Tony asked, bringing her out of her world of wonderment.
"Yes," she nodded, "I saw that you were climbing down from it just now."
"I saw you climbing down from it a moment ago," Tony corrected.
"Sorry sir, I saw you climbing down from it a moment ago," she amended.
"Better." He nodded. "That thing you are talking about is called a telecommunication mast."
"What is it for?" She asked,
For a while, Tony said nothing, probably contemplating how to bring his explanation down to her level of understanding. He then did something that embarrassed her. He brought out his cell phone and asked, "do you know what this thing is and how to work?"
He thinks I am a bush girl. She thought, a bit offended but how could she pick offence in such a trivial issue when she is so desperate to learn? So she schooled her facial expression not to give away her emotion, her curiosity outweighed her pride.
"Yes, I do, it is a mobile phone, it is used to make calls between people that are far away from each other."
Seeming not to have noticed her discomfort, Tony replied, "good, so, the mast enables mobile phones to communicate with each other by sending and receiving signals."
"What is the meaning of signal?" This question was at the tip of her lip but because she didn't want to embarrass herself any further she refrained from asking but instead nodded her head. At least she now had an idea of what a mast is and what it does.
She rolled her load pad in a spiral coil and placed it on her head, getting set to help herself with her almost empty basin and then Tony gave her a 500 Naira note as payment for the drink.
As she shoved the already made load pad between her legs, using both knees to hold it in place while she sorted out his change, she heard him say, "keep the change."
"No oh!" She responded in a pitch a bit higher than she intended, "I will not keep the change oh, sir."
"Why?" Came Tony's surprised question. Ever since the first day they met, she had never declined his offer again. He didn't make it an everyday thing because he didn't want to be misinterpreted. In fact It's almost five days since he last gave her a tip so he wondered where all these were coming from.
"I don't want to be a beggar oh," she replied.
Wow! That's strange, a person becoming a beggar by accepting gifts from someone? That's laughable. How did she come up with such a ridiculous idea? He thought.
"Miriam, what makes you think that accepting gifts from me will make you a beggar? Besides, you didn't beg for it, I gave it to you willingly."
"Mma Rashidat said that I should not accept gifts again, that it will make me loss value and become a beggar."
Tony smiled at her childish interpretation of the words of this Mma Rashidat she spoke of as understanding of the situation of things came on him. "Oh! I see."
Tony was glad to know that Mariam had someone morally sound watching her back. So when she handed him his change, he took it from her without hesitation and watched as she picked up her basin and left.
With smile still playing on his lip, he nodded his head, "now I see where she learnt her values and moral discipline."
A/N: Who do you think this Mma Rashidat is?
What's on your mind about this chapter.
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