THE JOURNEY FOR AFRICAN MASQUERADES, page 3 of chapter 2

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Page 3 of chapter 2

Janet nudged her way forward, determined not to miss her chance. At last, she secured a seat on a Lagos-bound bus. Exhaling a breath of relief, she whispered, “One step closer.”
The bus groaned to life. As it lurched forward, she nestled into her seat and drifted into a light, restorative slumber.
Approximately forty minutes later, she stirred when a fellow passenger requested a quick rest stop. A roadside buka (a local eatery) was within reach. The driver veered towards a filling station where refreshments were available.
Her stomach rumbled in protest—she hadn’t eaten all day.
“What’s on offer?” she asked the attendant, a bright-eyed young man named Joe.
“We’ve got fufu, eba, pounded yam, and local rice,” Joe replied.
“Any meat?”
“Plenty—beef, chicken, goat, and bush meat.”
“Bush meat?” Janet arched a brow. “What kind, exactly?”
“Antelope and grasscutter.”
“Quite the menu,” she said with a grin. “Which soup pairs best with pounded yam?”
“Egusi, okra, and vegetable. They’re all first-rate.”
“Then I’ll have pounded yam with egusi—and chicken. Oh, and a glass of palm wine.”
The meal arrived shortly, and Janet savoured each mouthful like royalty—every bite rich, earthy, and deeply satisfying.
Once all the passengers had eaten and paid—there was no buffet system here—the driver summoned them back on board. Soon, they were once again in motion.
Sated and warm, Janet sank into her seat, the hearty meal lulling her into another realm of slumber. At a police checkpoint, the bus slowed while uniformed officers performed routine inspections. Janet stirred just as their vehicle was waved through.
However, at the state border, the passengers were required to disembark. Officers meticulously combed through the bus, searching for contraband—foreign rice, narcotics, and prohibited goods. The wait dragged endlessly.
Then, just as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, a weathered sign loomed into view:
“Welcome to Lagos.”
A wave of relief surged through Janet. The journey had been arduous, yes—but she had arrived. Ahead lay the pulse of ancestral tradition, the rhythm of the megacity, and the Eyo Festival, poised to envelop her in its dazzling embrace.

End of chapter 2

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