Chapter 47

Outside, I was greeted by three things that made Abidjan the best place; the kiss of the sun, the breeze of the coastal city, and the noise. People were walking about their daily businesses, and both French and native languages were battling for dominance at the nooks and crannies, but amid the two languages was the third language, English, raising fingers that were no match for the strong hands of French and native languages.

I slipped on my sunglasses and made for the cab I booked from my room. It was waiting patiently with the chauffeur in it. maybe he isn't on good terms with the sun, the sea breeze, and the noise.

I edged to the car, and that was when he alighted from the cab to open the door and have me hop in and stay in his car till I hit my destination.

"Bonjour, Madame." He opened the door. unlike many other chauffeurs I've had so far, this particular one was not ready to bother himself with the language of another man's colonizer. He preferred French, and that was enough reason for us to be silent throughout the ride because I don't enjoy speaking French.

I hopped into the car, and he turned on soft French music. I listened carefully to the words of the artists as the drive proceeded. Their words were like lines of poems, very much unlike the modern music genres we do in Africa, where artists praise things that are morally intangible and employ the use of vulgar language.

They were the same with the English songs I've listened to, songs from the belly of England herself, and songs from America's best singers. They were laden with content and contexts, but such songs don't appease Africans, because they are slow and sleepy.

We love noise, the loud and danceable ones, the madness that comes when we are overjoyed, and that is why we rarely perish of heartbreak and depression.

My phone buzzed and I fished it out of my purse and tapped into it without giving much interest to whose name was on the screen. At least, whoever it is, we will talk, and talking is a way of escaping a dumb drive like the one I was in.

"Ma'am." Came Maria's words. "Your mother called this morning. She said she would like you to make her next in your schedule, and she wished you a safe journey with the outreach."

I smiled. "Okay."

"And, Mathew, I'll tell you what he did when you arrive at your destination." She went off.

I raised my brows. She was such good gossip who wouldn't go off until she was done with her report for the day. I slipped the phone into my purse.

The cab stopped in front of the charity organization house. Three buses were there, loading those who were part of the outreach, and the medical supplies that were booked for the outreach.

I alighted without saying a word to the driver. I had paid him off through the app from where I booked him, so, I shut the door with my full chest and swaggered into the charity house compound.

"Bonjour, madame." The ladies getting the supplies ready greeted me. I offered them a smile and waved at them while I edged into the house to meet the manager.

"You came late, Sita." Said the vice manager. "The first batch has left; this is the second and last batch."

I sucked in the air and walked into her office whose door was wide open. That was why she saw me and stopped me with her sudden words.

"I thought it was meant to be three batches so everyone can meet up." I took a seat in her office. She was gathering a few things that might be required for the job.

"We changed the plan." She looked up at me. "You didn't attend the last meeting."

Last meeting? I wasn't informed of such, and if I was sent a male or an invitation for it, then, I didn't set my eyes on them.

"I was busy, and probably wasn't invited." I laid my excuses.

She raised her brows and winked, then, she returned to her bidding of searching for and packing a couple of stuffs in her plastic bag.

"That doesn't matter anyway." She said when she found what she was looking for. "We will go on a separate bus. The ones outside are filled with supplies and latecomers."

I nodded.

"Come, let's go already." She edged out from behind her desk with the plastic bag. "The security officers we booked had already gone with the first batch. I just pray we don't encounter what would make us need them."

To her, those words were her funny way of letting me know that we weren't going to the outreach program with anyone in uniform, or worse, armed with a rifle.

"Not funny," I said as we both scurried out of the building. There were a few other staff left in the building. They were doing one thing or the other while the rest were boarding the buses outside.

The first and second bus was gone already. It was just the one with medical supplies that was waiting. There was so much for it, but my annoyance remained that we would head for the rural regions at the very coastal sides without a security officer to at least secure the supplies.

"Our car is here already." She leaned in on my shoulder. "The driver, he is an expert with the long road, and I hear he took a long shooting class after he was contacted and offered the contract to drive us."

I nodded. That was her thought, a selfish one at that.

"And he speaks English." She added. "You know you enjoy that language."

It was a jeep. The sought that could glide in and out of anywhere if the need be.

"Come on, let's hop in already." She edged to the car, while I followed.