By Fatima Adetunji

The creaking sound my bones make when I turn, to make myself more comfortable reminds me it’s way past my bedtime. It seems I’m not the only one surprised that I’m still awake – my bones are, too. The wall clock indicates it’s half past eleven. Recently, I’ve been sleeping before the clock strikes ten, hence the surprise. What else could have kept me awake at this time of the night if not a well crafted story?
It is ‘The Last Good Man’ by Patience Swift. The author gave such vivid description of the village where the story is set. I only have ten pages to go, and I dread the end. My bleary eyes can’t wait to see the last sentence. Alas! What I feared came to pass. I really do not like tragic stories, but the book has turned out to be one.

The sound of the alarm jarred me awake from my less-than-five-hour sleep . It’s already 4:15AM! I only have forty-five minutes to prepare for the journey. This is my first time travelling at such an early hour. When presented with the two options: go to the park with nothing less than two thousand naira, or get ready for a free five o’clock journey in an uncle’s car. Obviously, I chose the latter. And now I’m running late.
It’s 4:58AM and I’m set. I decide to perform ablution to observe two raka’ah of nawafil before my uncle calls. “Allahu Akbar”, I say in preparation for the first raka’ah sujud when he calls. I miss the first call but thankfully, my sister picks up the second ring. He tells her he is already on the way to her place to pick me up. After the tasleem, I hurriedly gets up to carry my heavy traveling bag while my sister helps with the smaller bag. I wonder how more difficult it would have been if I was to go to the park.

I wave my sister goodbye with mixed feelings as my uncle turns the ignition key. I’m glad I have the whole back seat to myself. A man is already seated in the front with him. Before long, we get to a market bustling with activities. I see traders, with goods displayed in front of shops, marketing at top of their voices and buyers inspecting and pricing foodstuff. Its not even 5:30AM yet! I do wonder what time these people have had to leave their humble homes.
I discover it’s Oyingbo market when I ask my uncle. ” The economic situation in Nigeria is responsible for this. These people will have to leave around 7:00 AM when the real shop owners start coming around. That is why they come as early as 4:00AM to sell whatever they can.”, the man sitting beside my uncle explains. I fall asleep some time after this.

There is some sort of traffic on the way. I’ve been worried we won’t be able to pray before we get home, so I’m really glad when my uncle informs me that there’s a petrol station nearby where we can all observe our Subhi prayer, not long after I wake around 7:30AM. The name of the station is As-Salam Petroleum, somewhere around Shagamu. I’m really impressed it has a mini-mosque which is quite well-furnished.
We take off again after the solah stopover , and eventually get to Olohunsogo around nine. Yes! Ibadan! I’ll be able to get home before ten, In Shaa Allah. Home, sweet home. AlhamduliLlah!