Hearts in Lagos
Episode 1 – Sparks in Traffic
The Lagos traffic was doing what it did best, turning a ten-minute drive into an endless test of patience. Tunde Adebayo, a tall, sharp-looking young man in his late twenties, was tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel of his sleek black Corolla. He was already late for a crucial business meeting, and the congested Ojota junction wasn’t helping.
“Why is it always like this?!” Tunde muttered, glaring at the sea of cars around him. He adjusted his rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of his reflection, trying to straighten his tie while simultaneously keeping an eye on the traffic. His phone buzzed, and he ignored it. The meeting would wait; he just needed to survive the gridlock.
Suddenly, a red Honda Jazz darted from the left, cutting in front of him without warning. Tunde slammed on his brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision. He leaned on his horn, glaring through his windshield.
“Eh? Who told you to move like this?! Lagos traffic isn’t a playground!” he shouted, rolling down his window.
The driver, a young woman with sharp, almond-shaped eyes and an expression that radiated both annoyance and fire, looked at him. “Maybe someone should teach you patience, sir!” she retorted, her voice tinged with sarcasm.
Tunde blinked, momentarily stunned. Most Lagos drivers would have yelled, cursed, or ignored him, but this woman… she was different. “Oh, really? You think you can teach me patience? Lagos traffic is undefeated, but maybe you have some secret technique,” he teased, a smile playing on his lips.
The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, and muttered something under her breath before driving off slowly, cutting through the traffic with the precision of someone used to the chaotic city. Tunde watched her go, a strange mix of admiration and curiosity bubbling in him. He couldn’t explain it, her confidence, her fire, something about the way she carried herself, it intrigued him.
By the time Tunde reached his meeting, his mind wasn’t on the presentation slides or profit projections. It was on her, the red Honda, the eyes that seemed to challenge him.
The following morning, Tunde decided to take a small detour on his way to work. He wasn’t sure why, perhaps a mix of curiosity and impulsive hope. As luck or fate would have it, he spotted her again at a small café tucked away between two office buildings. She was seated alone, typing furiously on her laptop, a half-drunk cup of cappuccino by her side.
His heart skipped a beat. Could it be the same woman? Was it coincidence, or had Lagos traffic conspired to bring them together again?
Tunde parked his car with exaggerated care and strode into the café, hoping to act casual, though his excitement betrayed him. He cleared his throat and said, “Ah, so Lagos decides to bring us together again?”
The woman looked up, her sharp gaze meeting his. She blinked, processing the familiarity. “Oh, so now it’s fate?” she replied, her tone dripping with mild sarcasm, but Tunde detected amusement underneath.
He grinned. “Maybe. Or maybe Lagos is just testing me.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling faintly despite herself. “Well, if it’s a test, I hope you pass. Lagos isn’t known for being gentle.”
They shared a laugh over the spilled coffee from a clumsy barista, and a conversation bloomed effortlessly. They talked about Lagos traffic, office life, and their love-hate relationship with the city. Tunde’s humor was relentless, teasing her mercilessly, and Adaeze, because he had learned her name after a brief introduction, found herself laughing despite her usual guarded nature.
“You’re impossible,” she said at one point, shaking her head.
“Only for those who are worth it,” he replied with a playful wink.
Time seemed to slip by unnoticed until Adaeze’s phone buzzed. She checked it and frowned, her smile fading slightly. Tunde noticed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
Adaeze hesitated, then said, “Just… a message. Nothing important.”
But Tunde was already curious. Something about the way her brow furrowed didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t press further, respecting her space for now.
As she packed up to leave, Tunde felt a strange tug in his chest. There was something magnetic about her, something that made him want to know more, to see more, to be around her again.
He watched her walk out, her red Honda Jazz merging into the bustling Lagos streets. Tunde couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time they would meet. Lagos was big, chaotic, unpredictable but somehow, it had just started writing their story.
As Adaeze reached her office later that morning, her phone buzzed again. She picked it up, and her eyes widened. The text message was simple but chilling:
“Stay away from him. You don’t know him.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she stared at the message. Who could have sent it? And more importantly, why?
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