Unwanted Arousals

Another clip from Uju.

Jerry had decided to escort Uju to the bus terminal where she would catch her outbound bus to Lusaka. He somehow forced his way onto the minibus, perching himself on an ‘attachment’ seat, a loose wooden contraption that the conductor produced for those unable to get a regular seat. These seats lived in the buses aisle, creating a complete block to anyone wishing to escape should an emergency arise. Uju protested but Jerry insisted. If she knew she would have waited so they could sit together. But the bus was too full. It would be too awkward to move now. The attachment seats increased the cramping factor and made it impossible to move without causing increased agitation from other passengers. They also made the ride a cosier one, even if you didn’t feel cosy, something Uju certainly did not feel right now. To make matters worse, her cosy companion had to contort his body into an awkward position, part of him behind her and she having to bury her rear end near his groin. This was not good. She shifted uncomfortably, trying, but failing to re-position herself. She glanced at him in irritation. Funny, he was smiling. Her shifting seemed to invite a deeper more satisfying smile. There was even a bead of perspiration on his shiny balding head. Disgusting she thought as she blanked out the possibility of what he was thinking, or even feeling behind her ample Gluteus. Why didn’t Jerry warn her she lamented. Her tribulations were too great to have to deal with added woes. She resigned to ignore him and manage the short ride to Livingstone’s bus terminal.....

....The minibus arrived at the bus terminal and Uju was first to get up even though she was buried in the middle of a row of passengers. Others beside her were better placed to disembark, her hurry sparked by her companion. She wanted to get as far away from him as she could. She stooped hunchbacked as passengers gradually got down. Jerry got off first, he was near the door. Uju had to wait a little. The market lady next to her was taking her time. Waiting in agitation, she glanced down at her cosy companion. He feigned sleep. A magazine had mysteriously placed itself over his groin area from where she had just stood up. She was certain there was nothing there before. Squinting in confused irritation, her agitations to disembark increased, resulting in her pushing at the cumbersome market lady. Not wise. She received a blistering verbal slap in reply, short and sharp.

Uju’s instinct, unlike most, was to retreat. It was uncharacteristic of her to fight back, be aggressive or pushy. She had always been the sheep. Her actions today were simply the consequence of her predicament. Nothing was going to plan for her and this time, unlike the sheep, she snapped, letting rip like the wolf, tearing into the woman without relent.

A mini-commotion ensued. The market woman responded to the verbal onslaught, grabbing for Uju’s top. Uju shoved back with adrenaline fuelled mutant strength, giving the woman a much speedier exit from the bus than planned. She tumbled over, falling against Jerry who was hurriedly trying to get back in the bus and calm Uju down. He too was confused, never having experienced her like this but full of empathy for her predicament. The problem for Uju was that no one else knew what she was going through, just Jerry. Everyone was appalled that she had pushed an older lady out of the bus in a culture where respect for ones elders is a fundamental life trait, a trait that defines all Zambians.

Jerry struggled to pacify the small crowd, especially the market woman. A situation like this could quite easily get out of hand with risky consequences, consequences that could be quite adverse for Uju. Luckily for him, he had broken her fall and she was slow to respond, maybe too stunned by Uju’s reaction. It gave him time to negotiate calm which he did instinctively. As he pacified, he realised she was likely the combative type, the type that once they got going, there was no stopping. He focused all his energies on stopping her from getting going.

By now everyone had disembarked and Uju’s ‘companion’ was amongst a small crowd watching the drama unfold. Uju looked at him and felt further agitation, trigger happy to challenge his lustful invasion of her space and self, pointing blame directly at him for her outburst. She looked at his groin, maybe expecting to see the bulging evidence which she could use to link her outbursts to Jerry’s animated pacifications, maybe it would buy the market woman’s understanding and forgiveness. 

As the thoughts passed through her head she realised how stupid they were. This whole Madam Ebony and the lodge saga was messing with her head. Mr Cosy’s ‘evidence’ was long gone, withered in fright as chaos erupted on the minibus. He held his magazine, the crotch covering accomplice in his hand. By now, Uju had to accept that the day’s events were having an adverse impact on her life and if she continued to let low esteem and emotions take control she would regret the consequences.