It was a cool, quiet evening—one of those rare days when the city seemed to exhale. I boarded the bus home from work, grateful for the unusual calm. The vehicle was only half-full, a welcome contrast to the usual chaos of rush hour. The driver was sealed off in his little cubicle up front, and we passengers were scattered like leaves on a still pond. Among them was a man who immediately caught my eye—late 60s, wearing a crisp white cap that read ' Chosen One' in bold black letters. He was flipping through a newspaper with such frantic energy it looked like he was searching for something long lost—or perhaps arguing with the headlines themselves. Opposite him sat another older man, though you wouldn't know it from his clothes. He was dressed like a teenager—like someone clinging to relevance with both hands. Then, out of nowhere, the man in the cap spoke, loud and clear, as if addressing a courtroom rather than a quiet bus. 'Does time determine what's right or wrong...
MARIERE It was said that she had this ravishing beauty that made suitors hover around her father’s compound. They would come prepared with gifts and entourages only to be frequently turned down by her. Few gave up the trial while many continued, unsuccessfully. The villagers waited to see the day and the lad who would win their untitled princess at last. This one, he came out of the blue. He came like a king who could not be refused. He came prepared from a faraway land that even you cannot guess. He came for the taking and nothing less. Many had lost but he was called to win. Voila! The unpleasable damsel eventually was defeated by the affluence, charisma, debonair and gaiety of this lad. They gracefully were married without further ado. It was a quick wedding as the groom could not wait to consummate the union. A bit uneasy, mother and brother to the bride decide to accompany the couple to their home in Lagos to be familiar with where their blood would be inhabiting h...