It was a beautiful and serene night and I was traveling from Buea to Kumba in Cameroon. It was a one-hour ride and I was over-joyed when I found a comfortable 30 seater bus. I had settled in my seat by the window when I saw a taxi pull up and an elderly woman alight with a young boy who bore a striking resemblance to her. He was handsome and I was drawn to him for a minute but I was in Cameroon for my sister’s wedding and no brief hook-ups allowed.(don't get down like that) Besides he looked younger probably 22.... still it didn't hurt to admire lol.
I was about to look away when something caught my eye. This kind looking woman who was definitely his mother had her head bowed in prayer and she placed her hands on her son’s head obviously blessing him. I felt a little guilty encroaching on such a beautiful private moment but I couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic because that was the same way my beloved late dad always prayed for me whenever I was about to embark on a journey to university back then.
Their quiet moment was cut-short by the park boys who were eager to carry the huge sack obviously filled with food items into the bus.
Minutes later, he boarded the bus and to my surprise his seat number was next to mine. I was determined to keep a straight face when he broke the silence with an accent which took me aback
I was still thinking when he said
The boy walked up to me and was like
This boy smiled and was like
Seeing I wasn’t going to give him my number, he walked away leaving his bag of fufu and dry fish. A few minutes later, I collected my bag and went to board a taxi .Slumping into the back seat, the driver’s phone rang and he answered excitedly
I was about to look away when something caught my eye. This kind looking woman who was definitely his mother had her head bowed in prayer and she placed her hands on her son’s head obviously blessing him. I felt a little guilty encroaching on such a beautiful private moment but I couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic because that was the same way my beloved late dad always prayed for me whenever I was about to embark on a journey to university back then.
Their quiet moment was cut-short by the park boys who were eager to carry the huge sack obviously filled with food items into the bus.
Minutes later, he boarded the bus and to my surprise his seat number was next to mine. I was determined to keep a straight face when he broke the silence with an accent which took me aback
” waddap shawty “ he said and my face couldn’t hide the shocked emotion.”Don’t be acting all shocked an stuff shawty.I ain’t gon hit you up.Just wanna know the kinda gift to get for ma mum from Africa,You see she’s back in the states and I wanna give her something for Christmas”I was still trying to figure out which accent he was using,American or British when he said
“Never mind shawty .Many Cameroonians don’t get my American accent .So I try to be slow and they still don’t get it.Damn I hate my mama for sending me here to visit my grandfolks mehn..shittt”Ok ! I was irritated. First of all, it’s a one hour ride by road so what’s with the plane talk.I guessed he was some spoilt kid who studied in America when it hit me that that woman he came to the park with was his mum .So was he faking his identity? If yes then why?
She outthere chilling and here I am sweating and shiiiit in this gaddamn bus mehn. Ain’t there airports to this place”
I was still thinking when he said
“Shawwwwty, thought of anything I can get ma mum here? I said “Oh ok first of all, don’t call me shawty because I’m not your shawty. To your gift issue, you could get her a wrapper. The traditional Cameroonian wrappers. She would appreciate that .
Wrapper?You mean that stuff women their around their waists? Hell nah.My momma too fly for that shit.That shit is local mehn” he repliedI was infuriated.
”I’m sorry I can’t help you then.”I said turning away to face the window while blocking the sound of his voice with my earphones and turning the volume up .I could hear his voice faintly “”Damn what’s wrong with these Cameroonian shawty’s acting all local.nigga can’t even get one to understand his accent.Shittt”The last thing I needed was an accent faking juvenile delinquent by my side so I dozed off.It must have been a short nap when the sound of the driver woke me up.We had reached Kumba park.As we all turned to the boot to take our respective bags.Since those who boarded last had their bags placed ontop of those who came earlier ,the driver had to make sure they claimed their bags
The boy walked up to me and was like
“Wassap girl,can I get your digits, maybe we could hookup sometime” The driver called” Who get this bag eh,na who get this bag for here? It was his black traveling bag””Yea that’s my bag .Can't these niggers learn to stop messing with my designer bag“he replied and the driver handed it to him .My tired eyes rested on the bag with a Versace & LV logo splashed allover.So much for a designer bag (sigh) He turned to me to continue his conversation about the number when the driver called again
“Na who get this sack eh.Na who e own this eh?”I instantly recognized it as one of the bags that boy was given by his mother.To my dismay, this guy acted like it wasn’t his.The driver in their usual fashion opened it to call out the contents.”Na who get this water fufu and dry fish bag eh”
This boy smiled and was like
“What the hell is that >? Water fufu.Funny name”.I was too shocked to tell him I saw that bag with him .The shouts from other passengers made the driver throw the bag to one side and continue with other bags .
Seeing I wasn’t going to give him my number, he walked away leaving his bag of fufu and dry fish. A few minutes later, I collected my bag and went to board a taxi .Slumping into the back seat, the driver’s phone rang and he answered excitedly
“Petite frère(young bro) you don reach Kumba.Wussai(where) you dey? I dey park nah.Make I come meetup you now so”.He suddenly craved my indulgence to let him pickup his brother who just arrived .He stepped down when I saw the same young boy running towards the driver.He handed his black bag to him and disappeared in the direction of the bus we alighted from and a few seconds later, he re-appeared, dragging the fufu and fish bag .I was shocked .Talk about coincidence. His brother opened the car boot and placed the bag in it.Telling him to occupy the front seat and he did so without knowing I was behind”
“ Which kina joke be dat for forget fufu and bonga fish wey mami send am”?The boy replied in a deep Cameroon pidgin accent as the driver pulled away.
Grand I no forget eh.No be the fish and fufu dey inside motor.
Grand sere(big sis) thank you.Na say dis my petite (small)I be di wait since “The driver said to meIt’s ok.I replied .At that moment I could tell he the obviously froze
.Shiii Bro, someone in this whip with us”The brother replied obviously used to his antics and slightly irritated.He didn't say a word and when I got to my destination.As I paid the driver ,I said
"You say Wetin .I don di warn you talk fine no di form bush faller(American returnee) when you see woman. "
“Young man, you really want to know what gift to give your mum for Christmas? Be proud of her and her gifts and her fufu and fish which she spent her hard earned money to give you and your brother for Christmas holidays.Be proud of who you are and your parents because they won’t be here forever and you were ready to give up her fufu and fish to create an impression on someone who doesn’t care.He tried to speak but the words didn't come out as I got off the cab and walked towards my gate.I thought I heard him say
Shiiittt that shawty got me..I laughed for real.He wasn't going to change anytime soon.He was just being a kid.On the bright side, he should seriously think about being an actor .Wish I told him that...NB
( Wow... It's a beautiful Christmas for me and us(Miss Petite readers) indeed .I've been having writer's block for a while.So many things on my mind and couldn't bring myself to write because I need to be in a particular state of mind.What a surprise when I decided to write a merry Christmas message but instead wrote a diary about an encounter I had in Cameroon last week....I really appreciate all of you who have encouraged me to keep churning out these diary's
Merry Christmas all.God bless and grant you all your heart’desires)..
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