Three Mangoes Read online

them spotted her, and just like that, the word spread quickly that a girl selling mangoes was nearby. Within seconds, several of them had left what they were doing and began to call her. Some of them even came towards her. It was like watching bees drawn to nectar.

  "Eh, fine girl! Mango seller, come here! We want to buy mangoes! How much you dey sell your mangoes? Na dis one I want. I no want that one. Wetin be dis? Na mango be dis abi na paw-paw?"

  They all spoke at once as if Risikat had more than two ears that they could see. This was not the first time Risikat had sold mangoes to a group of mechanics before, but something about the way they all came at once, made her very apprehensive. As a precaution, she made sure she did not go to close to the actual workshop, a wooden shed with a corrugated iron roof that was hidden among the cars on the lot. She stood on the very outskirts of the lot, and set her tray down on an old, condemned car battery. While simultaneously keeping the greasy hands of the mechanics from handling her wares, and making sure no one was stealing from her, she sold a good number of the mangoes on her tray. Within minutes, they had bought a majority of the other two species of mangoes: the reddish ones, and the green ones.

  As she collected the money from each buyer, she took the naira notes and tucked them away in her sweaty bra - this was the safest place possible, according to her mother. The sight of a well-endowed young girl at the peak of puberty, putting money into her bra, seemed to throw the men's hormones into overdrive. Two of the younger men made passes at her, trying to lock her into an embrace, while calling her "My wife!" as if they had paid her bride price to Baba Risikat. Another one actually succeeded in grabbing her by the waist and was pulling her off to the side amidst her screams of protest. The tray of mangoes lay defenseless while this scene unfolded.

  All of a sudden, the owner of the mechanic workshop appeared from nowhere. He was a man in his fifties with three horizontal tribal marks seared into the skin on each side of his face. He barked at the men, ordering them to leave Risikat alone immediately and even slapped the idiot who was trying to kidnap her in broad daylight. Thankfully, they all obeyed instantly and slunk away into the workshop. Risikat stood there trembling at the thought of what almost happened to her. The workshop owner apologized to her and warned her to be more careful around customers, ending his sentence with "You know say you be woman." Finally, as if to make up for the damage his boys had done, he offered to buy some of her mangoes. She selected a few good ones and threw in one of the remaining three yellow ones for free. As he helped her put her tray back on her head, she thanked him again and walked away so fast that it was a wonder the tray did not fall off her head.

  With the scene of what had transpired at the mechanic's shop replaying in her mind, Risikat was sorely tempted to go back home immediately. However, she remembered that if she did not sell enough mangoes, she could not pay her exam fees. That Friday was the deadline to make that payment. That thought was all she needed to convince her to keep going until every single mango was sold. About ten minutes later, she walked into another street.

  By now, it was 4 p.m. and the sun had begun its slow descent. However, it was still hot, and as Risikat contemplated finding another place to rest to drink the other satchet of pure water the shop owner had generously given her, she heard a woman's voice calling her. She went towards the source of the voice and walked into a compound that housed a two-storey house building. Several tenants occupied the rooms in this house. On the balcony of the house upstairs, sat a woman who was heavily pregnant. She looked like if she had a choice she would give birth to that child - or those children - right away. But, her due date was still months away, as she later told Risikat. In the meantime, she had a craving for mangoes and Risikat happened to walk by at the moment the craving began.

  Due to the woman's condition, she could not come downstairs to meet Risikat. It was the mango seller who mounted the single flight of stairs, which ran on one side of the building, to meet her customer on the balcony. The woman picked four mangoes: three green ones and one of the remaining two yellow ones. After paying for the mangoes, the woman called one of the children of the other tenants to help her rinse them, and as Risikat left, she saw the woman munching the yellow mango, nodding her head in satisfaction. Risikat smiled and went on her way. There were now five mangoes remaining in the tray, and only one of them was yellow.

  Risikat decided to complete her rounds on a connecting street before making the long journey home. As she walked to the end of the street, she made the same announcement she had repeated all day long, in a tired voice. No sooner had she said "Sweet, sweet mangoes" the second time, than she heard a man's voice call her to come immediately. Judging from her past encounter a few hours ago, and with the mechanic workshop owner's warning still fresh on her mind, she hesitated a little bit. But, the man's voice rang out urgently beckoning her to come and sell mangoes to him. She reluctantly obeyed and followed the direction of the voice.

  She walked into a compound in the middle of which stood another two-storey house. The architecture was similar to the house where the pregnant woman lived. This time, however, the person who had called her was not on the balcony. He was on the ground floor and stood with his arms akimbo, in front of the house. One would think, from the way he stood boldly, that he was the landlord. Alas! He was just a tenant. And he wanted to buy mangoes.

  As he stood there pricing the mangoes, a little girl of about five years old wearing a long floral print dress, and with her natural hair braided in a suku hairstyle, emerged from the side entrance that led to the back of the building. Her tear-stained face gave Risikat reason to pause. But it was not just that she had been crying. She kept pulling her dress closer and closer around her tiny little body as if she wanted it to melt and become part of her frame. The man was clearly irritated by what she was doing, and he kept slapping her hands off to keep her from doing so. When he got fed up, he lightly caressed her head, and in a voice dripping with irony, asked her which mangoes she wanted him to buy for her. Without saying a word, the little girl picked up all five of the remaining mangoes, one after the other, and handed them to an amused Risikat. The man did not even argue. He told Risikat to wait while he went to get his purse. As soon as he disappeared into the boys' quarters behind the house, the little girl began to speak:

  "I don't like Uncle Adisa."

  A very surprised Risikat responded with a "Why? Isn't he your uncle?"

  "No. He is our neighbor and Mummy and Daddy told me to stay with him until they come back from work."

  "So, why don't you like him?"

  No answer. Risikat was not surprised that the little girl was opening up to her like this. It was a natural effect she had on children. In fact, her father described it as a gift. They just always warmed up to her and wanted to tell her all kinds of things. And apparently, this little girl was not different.

  "Okay, what's your name? Tell me your name."

  She smiled shyly and said, "Tawa."

  "Awww! My youngest sister's name is Tawa too. How old are you?"

  She held out all five fingers on her right hand, and began to suck her left thumb. Just then, the little girl told her suddenly: "Uncle Adisa always tells me to remove my dress when I enter his room. I don't want to remove my dress." Risikat was shocked. But Tawa did not stop there. Without missing a beat, she described to her new friend, Risikat, the things Uncle Adisa, the same man who was about to buy the last yellow mango, did to her whenever her parents left her with him.

  "Uncle Adisa locks the door with his key. Then he will close the windows, and then he will 'off' the light" Tawa continued, playing with her dress. By now she was sitting down on the bare floor beside Risikat. "And then we watch films. In the films, the man and woman 'off' their clothes and that's when Uncle Adisa tells me to remove my dress too ?."

  Risikat did not know what to do. It wasn't just that this little girl was sharing such sensitive d
etails with a complete stranger. Her tale forcefully brought to mind a similar ordeal Risikat had faced at the same age. Her own 'Uncle Adisa' was the landlord in the rented flat they lived in at that time. She knew that Tawa was telling the truth. But what was she to do? What could she do?

  Just then, Uncle Adisa returned. Not knowing what had transpired between Risikat and Tawa, he paid for the mangoes and began to pull the little girl away. She began to scream and cry and tried unsuccessfully to punch Uncle Adisa on his legs. That's when an idea occurred to Risikat.

  "Uncle, abeg leave her. I go play with her until her Mama and Papa come back."

  She knew she was taking a fat chance, but she felt this little girl was worth it. Uncle Adisa did not seem to care. In fact, he heartily agreed to her suggestion, noting loudly that he knew she could not carry the little girl away since some of the neighbors had arrived by that time, and many people were milling around the compound. He also knew that her parents were bound to arrive very soon.

  He promptly went back to his room, changed his clothes and went out. Risikat changed her sitting position, and set up camp with her empty tray in front of the girl's parents' apartment