I give the woman one last look and turn to mind my own business. Yet there is a nagging feeling about this woman, that her coming here has something to do with me. Why she come here come craze?

I look in her direction again. The crowd is still around her. For some reason she has not given those useless men the satisfaction of seeing her ripe breasts in all their full glory, her bra and pant are still on. Then she starts giving away free drinks. Some people are hesitant about taking her drinks, as if accepting a drink from her could transfer the madness. Some others are rushing and she stops, she tells them to queue. I wonder who is really mad now, these people on the line or this woman? Were po l’Eko yi o! Plenty craze people dey for this obodo! Then I tell myself, Why not? Why should I not enjoy a free cold drink? So I move straight to the front of the queue. The people there clear for me. Sebi they think I am mad, I might as well enjoy the benefits.

As I enjoy my Coca-cola, my mind returns to the issue that has been on my mind. I am pregnant for Rosco. What will I do with the yeye man’s baby? I know what I want to do. I want to keep this child. Something tells me it is a baby girl. A child in my own image! If I tell Rosco, I can imagine his reaction. He just enjoys putting his thing inside me and relieving himself. A baby? The foolish man will run away. I don’t need him anyway, Rosco is not my future. What I need is a plan.

I finish the coke and look at the woman. She has finished distributing all her drinks and the crowd has reduced. She is singing again, clapping and dancing. She is a beautiful woman. Who did this to her? It must be a man. Maybe her husband married a younger wife or something. Men are the root of all evil.

And I wonder again why she has come here? She will attract attention to this place. The Task Force people will come to take her away. That’s when one crazy plan enters my head, I will make them take me along too. When they find out I am pregnant, they will think I am one of those madwomen that those useless men come and rape for money ritual. Maybe I can use this way to get Fashola’s government to take care of me and my baby. I start to pack my things. Will I miss this place that has been home to me? Will I miss Rosco? Other men can do what he did for me, maybe even better.

I see a bus stopping by the woman, there is a name on the bus –NGO. These people look nice. I move close to the woman and join her song.