She felt hunger for another life.
Later that afternoon, as the meeting ended and the sun turned orange, Bolanle was packing the tomatoes she had failed to sell when a shadow fell across her stall.
She looked up.
Chief Balogun was standing there.
“Good evening,” he said.
His voice was warm now, more personal.
“Are these tomatoes fresh?”
“Yes, sir,” Bolanle said quickly.
He picked one up, inspected it, and without bargaining handed her a large bill.
“Take the rest.”
She stared at the money. It was more than she usually earned in three days.
“Thank you, sir.”
He studied her for a moment, then said thoughtfully, “You are not from Lagos. But you carry yourself like someone who belongs there.”
The compliment struck her like a spark.
Before leaving, he added quietly, “That is unfortunate.”
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