The rain that day was heavier than I thought. And each time you looked at the sky, it felt like it got angrier as the day passed.
The tarred streets were wet and shiny like black glass whenever a car flashed its lights. The roofs hummed loudly as the strokes of rain drummed on them.
I dragged myself up the stairs wet and tired. My shoes were squirting out water as I stomped up the stairs. I had wasted the whole day on a side gig I wished I hadn't taken. It was eating not just my peace but my sanity too. And my client seemed not to be still satisfied with the work I've put in. Now I have a deadline that keeps me on a time-bound schedule. Wake, run, work, run again. It was like I’d been sprinting along a timeline I didn’t control. I felt like crying.
By the time I got to my door my shoulders were almost sagging to the floor. My stomach growled loudly with hunger. It just occurred to me that I hadn't eaten anything since morning apart from a few sachets of water.
I keyed the door and pushed open to the scent of familiar comfort I had always known. I carefully took my shoes off my feet and placed them in the varendah. Then I pulled my wet clothes off too. With just my underwear I ran straight to the kitchen. I needed to boil water for a hot bath, since there was no electricity that night.
I flicked the gas knob, hoping to see some yellow flames, but nothing happened. I tried several times before reaching for the gas cylinder to check. And just when I thought nothing could get worse that night, the cylinder was empty. My heart sank as I dropped to the cold floor.
"Not now. Not tonight." I cried.
I checked the wall clock in my room. It was 9:30pm. The refill station had closed by 8pm. Which was hours ago. I yelled, there was absolutely no way for me to boil hot water that night, not to talk of cooking. My stomach growled again, as if it couldn't read the situation.
I sighed and got up from the cold floor. Then I went to the fridge. Maybe I could find something to munch on. Something to hold my body and soul together. And as for bathing that night, maybe I would force myself to take a cold bath later.
Luckily, I found a few bags of chin-chin, which I tore open and dropped onto my bed without even thinking. I lay there in the darkness listening to myself as I crunched hard. My eyes were gradually closing when my phone buzzed.
I jolted to life and reached for my phone. Without looking I picked it up.
“Marriot,” Mercy, my neighbour's voice came through, bright and warm against the background of the falling rain.
"Mercy," I replied.
“Come and eat roasted yams. I just made it with palm oil sauce. The local way your Igbo people like it.”
I laughed softly. “Do you read minds?"
She chuckled. “Why?"
"Because I was about to go to bed hungry."
I could hear her mouth moving ."Well," she paused. Then came the sound of chewing. " I heard you step in now. So I thought, why not share dinner with him? I don't want you to stress yourself to make one while I have much. Besides, it's best eaten hot in this rain."
I couldn't argue with her or deny her offer. It came at the right time and my stomach had already made the decision for me. I pulled on some dry clothes and stepped back outside. The cold air bit my face, but I didn't stop. The thought of roasted yams against my tongue kept me moving to her door.
Her place was lit by a single rechargeable lamp. The aroma of roasted yams and oil sauces filled the room. She looked at me like she had seen a ghost.
" I know. I look like I fought the devil." I said
She didn't reply; instead, she pushed me a plate of steaming yams and glowing red oil. I washed my hands in a bowl she gave me and broke a piece with my fingers, dipped it, and took a bite. The smoky skin, the soft flesh, the peppery tang of the sauce all warmth spread through me faster than I could swallow
“You look tired,” she said, leaning against her bed frame.
“Tired is an understatement,” I replied.
"You came back late. Something with work? Or were you caught by the rain?"
I looked at her. She smelled just like her room, of feminine cologne and bath soap. "Something about a timeframe for a job I need to finish. Also the rain. Only for me to get home and my gas is finished."
She laughed. "I know that feeling."
"Hmm." I groaned. I couldn't tell if it was because of the tasty meal or a reply to her.
"So it's safe to say I saved your life tonight." She pushed the last piece of yam into her mouth and stood up.
"It's safe to say, this is one of the reasons I might want to marry you." I joked.
She laughed and walked to her kitchen. The rain had softened by now. I could hear her kitchen tap running.
I sat there in silence enjoying the meal. When Mercy called from the kitchen.
"Marriott!"
"Yes!" I replied mouthfully.
"That means you're yet to take your bath. I know how you love a hot bath. I can boil you water."
Just then, power was restored, throwing harsh white light into the room, just in time for my reply. I smiled.
"Thanks but no need again. I'll just use my electric cooker."
She returned to the room with a hand towel. She was cleaning her hands. "Lucky you."
I finished up and thanked her for a good meal and a thoughtful gesture. She might not know how timely her offer came but it came at the right time and saved me from not going to bed hungry. I would have been a grumpy man by morning.
Her kind gesture remains a timeless reminder to me of the importance of having a good neighbour and being one too.