You may likely buy this too like I used to as well until I saw something someday!
Back in Abidjan, Ivory Coast, I’ve got a taxi driver friend who sometimes lends me his cab whenever I wish to get around town in search of story ideas.
One Saturday evening, as I cruised down the boulevard hunting for passengers, a young light-skinned lady in her late twenties hailed me. Standing to her right was her husband, I could guess from their intimate glances and the identical rings on their ring fingers. My guess was confirmed when he said:
“Driver, safely take my wife to the bus station. She’s travelling to the village, okay?”
“No problems sir, it’s my job,” I said and alighted to throw her luggage in the boot while they clung to each other kissing goodbye.
Halfway towards the bus station, my passenger surprisingly warned from behind, “Driver, please change your route, I’ve got somebody to check at Miezan Motel.”
I complied; after all I was just a taxi driver.
When we pulled up in the parking area of Mieza Motel, a tall, dark-skinned and brawny man in his early thirties emerged from the lobby and strode across to us, his face wearing a chirpy smile.
He walked round to my side and asked, “How much is the fare driver?”
I swallowed hard before I could answer. He paid me, unloaded the boot and opened for my passenger to step down.
As I reversed, I sighted them locked in each other’s arms kissing ravenously. A first-time kiss or a long-time one? I couldn’t guess!
Driving away, two ideas warred in my soul. The first wanted me going back to where I’d picked her and reporting to her husband. The other warned me not to put asunder what I didn’t put together. The former dominated.
As I swung my cab to a halt at the kerb where the original couple was standing, another taxi pulled up so closely in front, from which an olive-skinned and freshly looking teenage girl stepped out. She was wearing a kneel-length silk blouse, tight around her sultry shape. As she stood by the cab holding a tiny silver-plated purse that matched with her high-heeled sandals, I could smell her Intimate perfume from my end.
The husband to my earlier passenger burst out of the house and scurried to meet her. They hugged, kissed lightly before he proceeded to pay the taxi fare. He took the hand of his visitor, kissed her lips again and led her inside the house and closed the door.
All this while, I sat behind my steering wheel, watching and fidgeting. Coming to tell a man his wife was somewhere about to cheat him, he himself was about doing same. What a world!
I kicked and zoomed off shaking my head lamentably and trying to choose the right words with which to tell my friends how I witnessed firsthand a 1:1 draw in the game of infidelity.
And you, have you witnessed anything to add to mine? Kindly leave a comment.