THE Amaankhala Women Social Group were meeting to put finishing touches towards arrangement for the purchase of their uniform. The uniform occupies a pride of place in most women groups in Nigeria. Each year, women groups all over the length and breadth of the country chose a particular design of cloth with which the group could be identified. To be as distinctive as possible, each group made fastidious choices in colour, style and quality of the material to be used as uniform. The Amaakhala group were no exception.

Women groups had hitherto existed in most traditional set­ups of the Nigerian society. However, such groups were dominated by religio-cultural themes. With the colonization of society by the white man, many new towns sprang up and educated sons were posted out to hitherto unknown communities as civil servants of the colonial government or workers of foreign owned companies. Finding themselves far away from home in most cases, different ethnic groups started coming together to form community meetings where issues connected with members' welfare and social get-togethers were their main concern. Women groups were an offshoot of this phenomenon. Women all over the world are known to love dressing well and Nigerian women are no exception. With the genesis of these community meetings, occasional festivities and the desire to be as distinctive as possible, the idea of 'uniform' took hold on all women's groups in Nigeria.

The uniform served several purposes. It not only made the group to stand out from among the many other women's groups in existence, it also encouraged men to buy clothes for their wives each year and also made the women able to stand shoulder high with their colleagues. What women do is to change uniform annually. The expired uniforms of previous years served as ready wardrobe material for those who didn't have husbands to buy wrappers for them.

That was how the Amaakhala group came to be discussing the issue of their annual uniform that faithful month of 1990, with the dollar rate going for seven naira and thirty-nine kobo. The contributions of the Amaankhala women had trickled in since the beginning of the year towards the purchase of their uniform. They had met several times to discuss the design they would use as a uniform for that year. They agreed on the design called 'Shortcake' in yellow fabric.

The response from members had been very good as almost all members had chipped in enough to buy six-yard wax hollandaise wrappers for each member. Mama Rose, a trader member of the group who was known for her honesty and enterprise, was unanimously mandated to purchase the uniform for the group. She had already bought the white lace blouse that would be used as a top for the wrapper. It had cost each member two hundred and fifty naira, instead of the three hundred naira it would have cost if they had bought individually.

As the meeting came to an end, the chairperson scheduled another date in her house for an Executive Committee meeting for final arrangements to be made towards the purchase of the uniforms. Present at this Executive Committee meeting were the chairlady, the secretary, the treasurer, Mama Rose, and two other elders of the meeting. Having reached a compromise on the particular type of Short­cake wrapper to buy, the chairlady told Mama Rose that it was important that she bought only dark-colored yellow Shortcake for members as they did not want to be seen with any white specks on the wrappers. The chairlady then insisted on Mama Rose travelling to make the purchases the very next day. When Mama Rose attempted to protest that she needed a few more days to collect money from her customers so that she could use the opportunity to purchase goods for her own sales, the chairlady pointed out that with such a huge sum of money, they did not want the information leaking out and having the money snatched from Mama Rose. At this, members acquiesced because the menace of thieves in the town was becoming rampant. The chairlady further advised Mama Rose to safeguard the money by keeping it in two places, one part in an owarra that is usually tied round the waist and the second part in a dirty-looking bag that would not arouse people's interest. Mama Rose was also to dress shabbily so that she would not attract attention to herself. Mama Rose felt irritated at the advice she was being given by the chairlady because she was already used to taking pre­cautions that would not attract thieves to her person. She could make herself as indistinctive as possible when on a trading journey. She remembered the one time they were attacked by robbers on their way to Lagos in a taxi. The robbers had taken one look at her nondescript self and immediately turned their attention to the other, flashy-looking, passengers. What she did was to dress like a tired grandmother who was just returning home from seeing her never-do-well son. At first glance, anybody would think that she had just been able to pay her transport fare and no more.

But the chairlady was a woman who was never crossed. She not only had a sharp tongue, her comportment commanded respect. Tall and on the heavy side, with fierce-looking red eyes, she had been able to effectively control the Amaankhala women's group for the past two years. Many a chattering woman had felt her heavy slap on their backsides. All idle side talk came to a halt immediately she gave one of her usual roars which she frequently did. Though she was considered new in town, having arrived with her railway-worker husband about three years earlier, her force of character and size had proved helpful in seeing her elected as chairlady of the meeting. The ladies always gossiped from the corners of their mouths whenever she wasn't closeby. They usually spread the rumour round that she had been in the world's oldest profession before hooking her present husband and that was what accounted for her sharp tongue and rough ways.

By three the next morning, Mama Rose was up and ready for her journey to Onitsha, the market she usually patronised for her wares because of its close proximity. She put on the most jaded of her cheap wax wrappers and tied a brownish, dirty-looking head-tie over her forehead. This made her look dowdy. She kept more than half of the money given her for the meeting's uniform into the owarra round her waist and put the remaining N10,000 into a big black handbag even though the chairlady had advised otherwise. It was not the chairlady's neck at risk but hers. She was going to follow her own intuition solely. Whoever attempted to snatch the money from her was definitely going to lose an eye in the process. She thought of the profit she was likely to make out of purchasing the meeting's uniform, which largely depended on her bargaining powers. She smiled and toughened herself for whatever surprise the road might bring. However, she soothed herself with the thought that she did not envisage any trouble. After all, she had, since she started trading, travelled to purchase goods of higher value worth a hundred times more and, except for the taxi incident, she had never met any mishap. For extra protection, however, they had decided at the EXCO meeting that she should travel by a luxury bus which was more difficult to attack by robbers.

Papa Rose accompanied her to the motor park by 3.30 am and, as she was among the first batch of passengers to board the vehicle, she secured a seat near the front of the vehicle for herself. By 4 am the bus was full, and they set off for the journey to Onitsha. It was still dark. Mama Rose always enjoyed these periods of loneliness and quiet on the road. The countryside always looked serene and undisturbed. The big headlights of the bus lit up the area in their front as they swept past. The road was undisturbed as there were very few vehicles on it. The luxury bus zoomed along with music blaring loudly inside. The vehicle felt like it was an airplane all alone on its runway. The cool morning breeze lapped softly on the passengers' skins as it came through the vehicle's windows.

Some short while later, a brightly painted green taxi cab swept at full speed past the luxury bus in which Mama Rose was travelling. Nobody at first took any notice of the cab because it was usual for taxis to go faster than the luxury buses. About ten minutes later, the luxury bus caught up with the taxi and overtook it. After a little distance, the taxi again overtook the bus at full speed. That was when the driver cleared his throat and said something that sent chills down the passengers' spines, including Mama Rose's. The driver announced that the taxi, which was playing a game of overtaking with their vehicle, was that of armed robbers and that he was able to tell this from experience and from the antics of the vehicle.

Everybody was shocked into silence at the announcement. Armed robbers! They were devoid of human feeling. During periods of operation, they usually smoked Indian hemp, cocaine or one of those hard drugs. Due to the influence of such drugs, they were immune to human plea even if it came from their own mothers. Everybody was pondering on a way of escape. Even Mama Rose had forgotten her resolve to fight for the safety of the money on her when the driver broke into their thoughts with the question. "Na who dey carry big money for im body?"

No answer. What type of money was big money? Even those with money above Nl,000 were unwilling to disclose what they had on them since what was small in one's eyes could be considered big in another person's eyes. No one wanted to be rendered vulnerable to the thieves. Who knew whether the armed robbers had accomplices placed right there with them in the bus? Again the driver asked in exasperation,
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Make una talk quick o abeg, bicos dis people de get target wey dem know say I carry big money before dem de attack motor fa!"

The passengers who were mostly traders started disclosing the amount they had on them quickly.

"Me na one thousand five hundred naira."

"Me na two thousand."

"Me na four thousand o!"

"Three thousand, one hundred naira."

"Four thousand."

Mama Rose could not believe that it was her the robbers were after. But from the disclosures, it was obvious to her that she was the person carrying the largest amount of money. As her pulse beat faster and her heart thudded with fear, she knew she had to speak up fast.

"Driver, I de carry meeting money go buy uniform for dem o! The money wey I hold reach thirty thousand naira!"

There were gasps of disbelief mixed with surprise from the other passengers.

"Foolish woman! And you no fit talk since eh? If I slow down for that place wey dey front, make you drop go hide inside bush quick, quick and make you stay there until you hear my horn again. I go go carry police come back come carry you. Make you no fear."

As soon as he finished speaking, the driver got to the cluster of bushes he was referring to and smoothly matched on the brakes. The bus skidded to a slow running halt by the side of the road. Mama Rose, with a thudding heart, while clutching the black bag in which she had kept some of the money, quickly scrambled out of the bus and ran into the bush. The driver immediately took off; he had stopped in such a manner that the robbers, if they were nearby, would think that he was trying to avoid a pothole. The taxi had sped past them some time ago and he knew that they would be waiting for him up front. He told the remaining passengers to get ready so that they would surprise the robbers by countering their attack and if luck was on their side, they would overpower them. It was a matter of life and death, he told them grimly.

As the bus rounded the next sharp bend, there stood the green cab parked right across the motorway with the occupants nowhere to be seen. The ploy was to make all oncoming vehicles come to sudden halt to avoid crashing into the immobile vehicle. The driver of the luxury bus had expected something like that so he neatly came to a stop by the side of the road a few metres away from the taxi as if taken by surprise. The passengers caught their breath in suspense. Suddenly, from nowhere sprang several menacing figures, their faces hooded up with black cloth. They rapped viciously on the door of the bus, forcing it open and five of them stepped in. Two went to one end of the bus while one stood by the driver's side. The remaining two quickly strode through the bus scanning the faces of the passengers as if they were looking for a particular passenger. By this time, it was dawn and the first rays of the morning light were struggling through the sleepy clouds and trees. Without warning, the bus suddenly gave a lurch and the five robbers lost their foothold. The robber standing right by the driver tripped on his feet and landed his face on the gear lever with blood spurting out of his nose. His gun went off with a loud bang but the bullet did not touch the driver. The passengers were galvanized into action. Shoes, bags, iron, and, wooden chairs usually used as 'attachment' were freely used on the armed robbers. Having been destabilized and not having expected any reaction from the occupants of the bus, the robbers were soon overpowered. Male passengers quickly undid their waist belts and used them in tying the hands and legs of the five robbers after seizing their guns from them. On removing the hoods from the robbers' faces, the occupants of the bus were aghast. Peering up at them were two female faces! Nobody could utter a word. By this time, a trickle of cars had started arriving on the scene.

Some sensing what had happened quickly reversed and left the scene, others not so fast were blocked by more oncoming vehicles. They peered cautiously at the scene before them. The driver jumped out of the luxury bus and called on the other helpless motorists to come out of their vehicles and help him clear the taxi off the road. He explained quickly what had happened. Immediately the taxi was moved off the road, the luxury bus driver urged his passengers that had disembarked to enter the bus and he drove off. He did not want to risk the time narrating over and over again their ordeal to the other motorists for fear that the caught robbers might have other accomplices in the bush nearby and they might be tempted to avenge themselves on the bus or get the caught robbers released. Besides, the driver was thinking of that woman who had been left all alone in the wild bush.

The driver of the luxurious bus drove straight to the police station in the next village, Okwoko junction and handed over the robbers. One of the females had started crying. The police boss at that station shouted at her to stop shedding crocodile tears. The robbers were clad in fatigues, on their feet were large boots into which the trousers they wore were tucked in. The two women had not worn any brassieres so that their chests at first glance appeared flat. Had nemesis not caught up with the group, they would all have passed as males for they also wore caps that hid their hair.

The policemen started beating the armed robbers and shouting at them for making the country's highways unsafe for travelers. In the tumult of the beating and shouting, the driver quietly drew the attention of the police boss who came over to where he stood.

"Oga sir, the woman wey dis dem abaradegu dey after still de hide for bush O! Whether you go give me some police make we go bring her back, she go fit come identify dis useless people." The police boss gave him five of his men and, together with some hefty passengers, they went back to the place where Mama Rose had been dropped.

Meanwhile, as Mama Rose scrambled into the forest, she was thinking that the robbers might have seen her drop and were chasing her. She ran and ran, scratching her face, her arms and getting her clothes torn by brambles and hanging branches of trees and low-growing palm trees. Her headtie came off but she did not care. She loved life too much to wait for those armed robbers to kill her with those fearful-looking guns. She fell and bit dust, she had cut her lips and could feel the taste of blood on her tongue, yet she stood up gingerly, picked up the black bag she was carrying, clutched it to herself and continued struggling through the bush that was getting denser to struggle through. It was not until she felt a sharp twist on her right ankle that she came to an abrupt stop and landed heavily on her buttocks. Her breath was coming in short quick gasps and it took some time before she was able to start breathing normally. She put her head on the ground and started crying. She no longer cared if they heard her crying and came for her. She was tired. She was fed up with life. They might as well come and finish everything off with her. Something moved under her ear and her head jerked up. She thought she had laid her head on a snake, but because of her painful ankle, she could not run any more. She looked and saw a millipede. She heaved a sigh of relief, she loved life after all.

She started collecting her thoughts together. She used the back of her hands to wipe off the tears from her face. It was painful. There were so many scratches on her face. She sighed and thought over her past life and what was happening to her now. Her thoughts went back to when Papa Rose had taken her hand in marriage and, how, through those years, they had had to toil and sweat before they could make ends meet. God had given them eight children and feeding those eight little hungry mouths had not been an easy task. Papa Rose's railway salary was nothing to boast of. She had tried her hands at selling tomatoes, vegetables, and soup ingredients, but these usually got spoilt after three or more days if they had not been disposed of. It was not until a friend advised her to try her hands in clothing, such as secondhand clothing for children and women, earrings, cheap wax wrappers and head ties that they started having some relief in her family. They could now feed three times a day unlike before, and her children who used to go about in rags could now be dressed in a more decent manner. To crown it all, she could now send some money, however small, to support her aged parents in the village.

With this type of life, Mama Rose wondered who could envy her so much as to send armed robbers after her. Could it be one of her husband's friends? Papa Rose could be a bit careless with his tongue whenever he took a bottle or two of beer with his friends at the down-town Katanga Bar and hotel which was their usual joint. Mama Rose dismissed the idea for she trusted her husband. He always moved with responsible family men who had legitimate businesses.

She wondered whether it could be husbands of some of her association members. Some of their husbands were whispered to be armed robbers. One never knew the type of business they were engaged in, but you could tell that they had lots of money from the type of life they lived. She thought of Regina who was always finding fault with her at the meeting because she was always jealous that it was Mama Rose that was picked to buy their uniform each time the year ended. Yes, Regina's husband was rumoured to be an armed robber. He was always moving round the country and you never knew in which part or what business he was engaged in. But, how could Regina have known that she was travelling today? And, moreover, she had heard that Regina's husband had travelled to Minna to conduct one of his numerous 'businesses'. Like a scanner, Mama Rose's mind moved to Boy Friday. Could it be Boy Friday who made no bones about his nefarious activities? Her brain was whirling with her list of suspects when she heard a blast that sounded like that of the luxury bus from afar off. It sounded three times. That must be the bus. He had instructed her to make sure to listen that the blast of his horn sounded three times before she came out of hiding.

It was dawn as Mama Rose picked her way gingerly through the thick undergrowth of the forest. Her foot had become swollen from the twisted ankle and it was so painful. By the time she reached the bus, the men were becoming impatient and the driver was honking the horn abrasively. Mama Rose looked so disheveled and mangled that the driver exclaimed, "Na wao!"

They helped her to get into the bus and drove straight to the police station where she was taken to the OC's office and given a glass of cool sweet palmwine to quench her thirst.

The OC patted Mama Rose gently on the shoulder to express his sympathy. He told her that they were going to line up the armed robbers for her to identify. A few minutes later, as Mama Rose was led into the inner recesses of the police station, her heart thudded as she wondered whether she would be able to identify any of the robbers who had seemed to know her so well. It was in this state of mind that she stood and looked through the bars of the detention room and scrutinized the faces of the robbers as they were ordered to face the bars. As her eyes lighted on the last two robbers standing on the row, her blood became chilled and her unsteady feet turned rubbery. Her head buzzed and whirled as she felt herself fainting and slipping into the arms of the policemen around her. The two faces staring back at Mama Rose were those of the chairlady and the secretary of the Amaankhala Women's Social Group.