Then Their Lips Touch (1)

Emeravwe, Mudiaga, and Akpokene walked through the western limit of Joyovwi Market. They made their way down Use road, the city’s main road, which ran from the western gate all the way to the palace.

They were on their way to the Bureau of the Capital Police, for Akpokene’s supervisors charged her with obtaining records of all protests that occurred in the capital in the past two years. The two guards of her office were otherwise occupied, however, so the head Aye came to Emeravwe’s office and requested that Mudiaga be her escort. Akpokene took the opportunity to talk Aye Chioma into letting Emeravwe accompany them, as well, insisting she needed someone to help her copy and carry the reports back. And since Mudiaga was given the afternoon off by the Palace Guard, the Aye allowed that they could take their time coming back to the palace.

As they stood at the edge of Joyovwi Market waiting to cross the busy intersection where Kerhi road—which ran from the northern to southern gate—bisected Use road and divided the city into the Inner and Outer City, Emeravwe questioned Akpokene, “Why has the director of the bureau asked your office to organize records of protests? Is it because of the Okémeh case?”

Mudiaga placed a shielding hand in front of Emeravwe as a caravan of merchants passed in front of them, the luggage strapped onto a camel swinging too close. “I doubt it,” he said. “Anything related to the Okémeh case would be assigned to our office.”

Akpokene flashed Emeravwe a teasing smile at Mudiaga’s protective gesture. Emeravwe rolled her eyes.

When she introduced them earlier, Akpokene jokingly whispered that it seemed she handpicked the men she chose to befriend and wrapped them around her finger. For not only was Aslan appealing and devoted to her, Mudiaga appeared far from unpleasant and was clearly interested. Emeravwe tried to explain that Mudiaga was interested in anything with a skirt, but Akpokene insisted that was not the case.

Akpokene said, referring to the Eunuch in charge of her office, “I heard Eunuch Omena say that it was Onótu Odafe, the Minister of Defense, who requested the records. But I am not sure what for.” The road cleared, and they began making their way across. “I have also heard of the Okémeh case your office was assigned. How is it going?”

“The case was formally handed over to the Bureau of Investigations,” Mudiaga said. “They’ll only call our office now if they need a lapdog to eat their crumbs or lick their a—”

“Mudiaga!” Emeravwe interjected.

Akpokene laughed. “Let him be, Emeravwe! It is true, the Bureau of Court Affairs is only an afterthought to the Bureau of Investigations.”

Mudiaga heaved a mock sigh, looking relieved as he smiled warmly at Akpokene. “Finally, a woman who understands me.”

Akpokene shook her head, wagging her finger in warning, “Oh, no. It is Emeravwe you want to understand you, not me.”

Mudiaga raised a brow at how bluntly she called him out. Then he grinned and flashed Emeravwe a wink.

Emeravwe quickly changed the subject, asking him, “What do you intend to do once we finish at the Capital Police?”

“I was going to visit some shops in Esiri Market before heading home,” he answered, referring to the market in the southwest corner of the city. “I’ve been on rotation for night duty, so I haven’t been able to see my family.”

“I hope we will not be intruding by accompanying you,” Akpokene said.

Mudiaga paused, realizing. “Oh.” After a moment in thought, he waved a hand. “No worries. They can’t throw you out.”

The girls exchanged bewildered looks at his statement; he urged them onward.

The Bureau of the Capital Police was located just within the Outer City, in an imposing compound not too far from Joyovwi Market. Once there, they were directed to the archives, where they spent the morning copying and organizing records of protests in the capital.

By early afternoon, they had finished the assignment and made their way to Esiri Market. It was the first time Emeravwe had been to the Outer City, and as they walked further within, the cobbled roads turned to dirt and individual homes became long row houses. Children played in the streets while adults went about their business, at times stopping to speak with neighbors.

They heard the din of the market long before they reached it. Integrated with the residential homes, it consisted of several blocks of row houses and small shops with various goods arranged on stands before them, and people packed into the streets.

Emeravwe welcomed the smells that rushed at her. Of brilliant, ornamental rugs treated with spearmint and lavender and displayed for admiration; of clean fabrics blown by the warm breeze gliding through the market; the pungent taste of ripened passion fruits, durians, and papayas that hung thick in the air; and the delicious fried smells of puff-puff buns, chinchin, and ripe plantains.

A crowd of people, carts, and animals milled about, the musk of bodies and stench of droppings mixing with the other smells. All around was the buzz of vendors and buyers, of street performers and the cheers of their onlookers.

Mudiaga took Emeravwe and Akpokene around the different sectors of the market, but they lingered mostly at the food stalls. There, they first sampled akara, scrumptiously seasoned sticks of suya, and sweet egg rolls stuffed with whole boiled eggs. They then settled for lunch at a stand with benched seating where they bought samosas and small paper bags of jollof rice which they bit at the corners and squeezed into their mouths. They stopped for dessert at other stands, purchasing crunchy squares of chinchin and coconutty shuku-shuku to take along with them on their market escapade.

As they wandered through the streets, like an eager boy at a carnival, Mudiaga zealously guided them to see painted and costumed performers who danced to the beat of tambourines and chanted with talking drums. He encouraged them at game stands to compete, then laughed boisterously at the face Emeravwe made when she bit into the bitter kola nut at a blindfolded taste test.

Emeravwe thought he seemed particularly conscious of her. He watched her every reaction as they went around the market, shielding her from crowds and animal droppings, and casually touching her at every opportunity.