I was going to Lagos last week. I noticed that there was this haggard and shabbily dressed woman, sitting at the far right hand side of me in the bus I was traveling in. She occasionally stole a glance at my direction till we got down at the popular oshodi market. Immediately we dropped, she came to me, clutching a weather beaten and thread bare purse in her hand. I wanted to step aside for her to pass but she said, sir, are you not Mr so, so and so mentioning my name. Alas, alas, alas. She was ...
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