Her Replica

Yes, it started with pain

Two hefty security officers abruptly threw a young lady out of a hotel. They shut the gate in her face. Her lower lip pulled out in surprise and anger at how the security guards had just treated her, but no words came out. In annoyance, Grace flinched her fist and walked away. Unable to fight or cause more trouble scene.

After a minute of walking, she stood in the gathering rain with her credentials on Santa Maria Street, New G.R.A, Jabi Abuja. Unaware of the drizzle, Grace thought about how to get home, but she knew it would take only the help of God since it was her first time at Jabi. Grace just had to move.

She had to.

The situation reminded her of how tough her life had been. Living in an orphanage at Port Harcourt, moving to Lagos to hustle to complete her secondary school, and now finding a reliable job in Abuja. It was unbelievable that Grace had lived half of her life on the streets, and she was still yet to achieve success, unlike her mates who were young graduates, having wealthy husbands and living good lives.

"Every disappointment is a blessing. God will help me." Grace recited to herself repeatedly, with tears forming in her stormy eyes. She sniffled under the dancing trees. A heavy wind blew through. One would think she was crying from the effects of the wind. Maybe the dust had pierced her eyes, but that wasn't the case.

Studying the area, people locked the gates and doors to the major hotels, classic companies, and shopping malls around. There was nowhere for Grace to hide, so she trekked through the path. Her right arm wrapped around the other as she searched for safety.

The passing vehicles splashed mud on her repeatedly. Grace didn't care, though, she hid under a particular tree. Too bad, she dressed in a white knee-length mini-dress and 3-inch-silver heels. Although, it was all borrowed from a friend; it fitted her well. Grace grabbed the dripping wig off her head and it left her natural hair bare and open. Taking off the dripping wig was refreshing, indeed.

It was quite dark and raining. Thunderstruck against the wall of cloud, rumbled flashes that shook the earth in a quake. Beads of rain lashed the screen of a black, moving car. The ever-active wipers wagged it away, yet Micheal Balogun, a charming young man in his late thirties, drove in the direction of his home. It was already evening, some minutes to 6:00 p.m., but it looked like it was past 10:00 p.m. Because of the intense atmosphere. It was the last day of September, in the year 2024.

The usually busy road was now empty. His car windows were canopy-locked. Michael visited an old school friend in a hotel in Gaube and, somehow, he passed through Jabi. These are developing cities in Abuja. Glancing out the window, Micheal carefully watched the rain wash down the transparent glass, leaving it evaporated and blurred. It was beautiful, though. All he wanted was to get home, have a shower, and complete the project he was working on. Micheal was the busy type who only had time to himself.

Suddenly, his eyes caught a lady standing alone. It was Grace. On her was a white-cotton gown, all soaked and stained with dirt. Her natural hair dripped and the brown envelope she held over her head had torn due to her firm clench. Grace was all drenched and soggy. Micheal halted his car in a flash and revised to where she stood, shivering.

He watched her through his side window, and she placed both hands together, pleading for help.

With this, Micheal winds down his window.

"Please sir, can you give me a lift? I'll stop by the junction, sir. Anywhere to get a taxi home."

"Come in." He signaled, winding up the car windows.

Grace, scared of splitting water in his car, gently walked to the other side and climbed in. Once she closed the door, Micheal locked it and zoomed on.

"Do you live around here?" He asked in a great tone, with his eyes on the road. Micheal wasn't the type that spied on anyone's business. Even if it was family. Regret flashed through him as he wondered why he asked.

"No, I came to submit my credentials and apply for the vacancy I read in the newspaper just yesterday but..."

"But what?" He shot a glance at her, still focused on the driving.

"A worker said they've gotten someone for the secretarial position. I was hoping to meet the manager of Honeywell Enterprise, but it was past their closing time. The securities asked me out. I didn't want to leave because coming here today cost me a fortune."

"Oh, sorry," Micheal muttered in a rather flat tone.

Absentminded to all her explanations. Upon seeing his reply, Grace finally raised her face to the stranger and saw he had Bluetooth fixed to his ears. He nodded somehow as if appreciating the music. It was then she realized that his attention was diverted.

Grace looked away and checked on her phone. It was an old Motorola phone she bought two years ago after saving up money from working five different-collar jobs in Lagos. It was old and gold because it still functioned. Pressing the on button, the phone suddenly turned off. It was then a thought came to Grace that the rain must have an impact. She took out its battery, cleaned it, and fixed it back before turning on the phone. There was an awkward silence in the moving vehicle, but Micheal was absentminded to these.

It was 6:05 p.m.

As a long-drawn sigh loudly escaped her breath, Grace learned that she had once again fallen into one of her numerous thinking routines. She had been slipping into them more often these past weeks.

‘When will I get out of these?’ Grace sighed as a teardrop trickled down her cheek.

The thought of how the hotel manager ordered her out of his office played in her mind. She wiped it away with her pinky and mentally consoled herself. 'Those idiots humiliated me today again? Better days will come. And all of this will be a story.' Grace pondered.

The rain ebbed some more, and the sky turned ink-black.

Just then, they met three police officers who stopped the car. The men placed two logs of wood to block the road so drivers wouldn't pass the checkpoint.

"Show me your particulars." A police officer inquired. He was a lanky middle-aged man with scattered teeth.

With a raised brow, Micheal deepened his hand to the side of his car and handed the driving license to the police officer. ‘One would think these policemen are diligent. Who on earth stops cars in the rain?’ Micheal mentally hissed and searched for his vehicle papers and identification card sluggishly. Then he handed it over.

"Okay... You too be senior man, abi?" the police officer nodded negatively at Micheal, going through his papers with wet hands.

Micheal gave him a bombastic side-eye because his breath ricked from alcohol.

"What does that mean?" Michael questioned, already pestered as to why he was being delayed. "Can I go now? Clear the way, please."

"Oga, get out abeg!" the policeman ordered. The other policeman came to meet him and he watched the both of them with curious eyes.

The first policeman then brought out a gun and pointed it at them.

"What?" Grace gasped, holding onto her chest with shivering hands.

"Are you serious? Who the heck are you guys?" Micheal fired, sure that they weren't actual police officers.

"Ear dey pain una abi wetin?" The police officer glared at them, his anger palpable.

"You wan dey yan? Commot before I blow up that your chicken brain!" the first policeman threatened. "See dis one o!" His gun pointed towards them. It didn't move Micheal. It was, perhaps, as fake as their identities.

Looking at the side of their pocket, Micheal realized that they held no names. It was then, he realized that the rain wasn't so heavy. It just drizzled.

"Raise up your hand and fall on your knees!" he commanded. "Now!"

In the dimly lit night, the piercing headlights illuminated the desolate road ahead, casting long shadows on either side. Grace and Micheal climbed down at once. They left their car doors open and their hands hung up in the hair as if giving praises to the lord.