A  Nokia 3310 handset vibrated vigorously in a brown leather handbag that had seen better days. The owner of the phone didn’t hear the sound from the vibration of the phone. She was busy attending to the customer before her.

“Mama Kati, gif me thirty naira fud.”

“Ehen….. Ha you wantam?”

“Gif me rice twenty naira and ten naira fish.”

“Ok… Wey your plate?”

“Ahah, Mama Kati use your own plate na….”

Mama Kati rolled her eyes heavenward, offering a silent prayer in her heart.

Not again today!

“So dat yu no go bring d plate back abi? Abeg Tonero, cari your wahala commot for my shed. Na God I take beg yu. Abeg.”

“Mama Kati, sell me the fud now? Wetin be ya own. I no carry plate…. Na by force to carry plate com buy fud?”

The others on the queue began to murmur and quarrel.

“Tonero you carry yoursef commot for dere na? Shi no wan sel you the fud.” One of them said.

“Mama Kati, you too sell am so that im go commot dia na?” Another woman complained.

“This Tonero too like wahala, why im no wan commot for that front. She no won sell, no be by force.” A lady complained, looking at the girl behind her.

“But she for sell am too, to avoid im wahala.” The girl behind replied.

“But no be by force to sell.”

“As no be by force, you no see as all of us dey here dey wait?” The girl hissed, and adjusted the wrapper tied tightly to her waistline.

“Come, you this gal, na me you dey hiss for? A be ya mate?” The woman replied, taking offence.

“Wetin come bring mate enta this talk. Abeg, leave me jor.”

The woman slapped the girl across her face and a serious argument ensued. At the front of the queue, Tonero smiled at Mama Kati as she asked for the money for his food. She knew what that smile meant. He held the plastic plate of food under his armpit and held his stick with his right hand. He slowly throttled as Mama Kati eyed his angrily. She took the next customer’s plate, and took the order.

Back in her handbag, the phone kept vibrating. No one could have noticed it, since her hand bag was locked in one of the cupboards of her shop. It was locked because, as usual, she had to hurry and attend to her morning customers. She didn’t want any distractions, not from her little daughters, or from her house girl who loved to play with her phone when she wasn’t looking. So she preferred to lock her phone in her shop.

It was just 6:30am, but most of the food for the morning was sold to her ever loyal customers. She had started cooking by 3am, and with the help of Ekaete her fifteen year old house girl she had finished the cooking by 6:00am. She had quickly set out her food on a rickety but wheel barrow, and gone to the bathroom to have a quick wash and change of clothes. That was how a typical day for Katherine Ofori began.