I shift in the front seat. I’m late; it’s why I left the house without makeup. It’s why I chose the front seat, so I can apply it without any trouble.
I steady my hand as much as I can in the moving car.
Lipstick on, eye shadow applied. The eyeliner is tricky. I try, but the car seems to pick the worst of bumps to drive over. I consider letting it go and just brushing mascara over my lashes. I pray for a miracle. For. Just ten seconds, let the road be smooth and the car steady.
The driver rolls the car to a stop.
“Who is dropping?” he asks.
“Nobody,” a lady behind replies.
“OK,” the driver says.
However, he doesn’t move off. Instead, he bends down and begins to search for something under the steering wheel.
“Oga wetin happen?” another passenger asks.
I do not hear his other words as I seize this chance to apply the eyeliner. Swipe here…swipe there…a little more, mascara on and I’m done. I look up, now wondering why we’re still stationary. My eyes clash with the driver’s gaze. He gives me this lovely smile.
Then he quietly says, “Nne, I mécha go? Are you done?”
With sudden comprehension, I smile back.
He starts the car and we resume our journey.