Roaming aimlessly on the streets of Lagos, Caro deliberately got lost. She just had to keep walking; it was the only way she could think clearly. There was no need to know exactly where she was. Rosa's place was the only place she had planned to come to in Lagos and now that she wasn't welcome there, she did not only have to put enough distance between Rosa and herself, she also had to find somewhere to retreat to for the night... somewhere safe.
If she was back home, it would have been easy, but this was a strange land. She knew nowhere and from the attitude of the people so far, there was no guarantee that she'd even get any sort of help. She was not unused to staying without food for most of the day, so the question of food was not her biggest issue for now, but she knew for sure that it would come up later.
Evening was approaching its latter stage of night and the vehicular traffic and human activity were showing no signs of decreasing, rather they were increasing at an alarming rate - certainly something that Caro never expected. But she adjusted quickly.
Just before nightfall, she came up with a plan and a schedule to go with it. Food first, shelter next. She had very little money on her and she had no wish to spend any of it, at least not until it was absolutely necessary. But how would she get food?
She looked around her at the busy, noisy road and she could see a lot of roadside vendors. She also saw a number of idle evil-looking boys who had their eyes on her, but she ignored them and focused on the vendors. She needed food to stay alive and only living people faced danger. Food first, safety later. But it seemed she was in the wrong place. There was no way she would get food here. The women were constantly alert and always had their eyes on their wares. Some of them even had their children with them which meant extra pairs of sharp eyes. She would have to try the inner streets instead.

***

It took Caro almost half an hour walking the tiny inner roads in search of a suitable place before she finally found a little kiosk manned by only one woman and not fenced with a wire mesh. The woman only had her wares stacked on a table with a small kerosene lamp to provide illumination.
Sighting her quarry, Caro switched to action mode. She came to a halt. Using the strings attached, she tied her frock tightly around her, not to the back as normal, but to the front, making sure to keep the upper part as baggy as possible. Then she began the short journey to the woman's kiosk.
One quick look around informed her that the surroundings were deserted. Perhaps the people had all gone into their houses or they had gone to the main road to sell their 'market'. Whichever it was, it was a good thing and she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Na you dey sell?", she asked as she reached where the woman was seated behind the kiosk. She was old enough to be her mother, but the few hours she had spent in Lagos had taught her that being polite was more a hindrance than anything else.
"Wetin you wan buy?", the woman demanded in return, quickly getting to her feet.
"You get bread?"
"Yes." She was already reaching to grab a small loaf for her customer, but Caro quickly rushed to pick one for herself. The resulting clash caused the nearby lamp to fall off its perch and roll off the table, hitting the ground with a clatter.
"Chai!", the woman exclaimed as she dove for it to prevent the spillage of her precious kerosene.
"Ah! Sorry o," Caro apologized, half-bending as if to help the woman pick up the lamp. But the woman already had the situation under control, so she straightened up.
The bread seller had managed to salvage some of the kerosene and proceeded to re-light the lamp with a sour expression on her face.
"Abeg no vex," Caro said in an effort to pacify her. But the woman said nothing. After placing her lamp back on its still unstable perch, she focused on Caro with an expectant look and Caro got the message.
"How much for this your bread?", she asked.
"Thirty naira."
"Ah. E small o. You no get big one?", Caro said, turning a loaf over in her hand with a critical look on her face.
"No," was the not-so-happy reply.
"But where I go fit see big one buy?"
"I no know," the woman snapped, sitting back down on her chair.
"Okay o," Caro sighed and dropped the loaf. "No vex."
She left the woman and walked down the street for a few yards before making a sharp turn and swiftly making her way back to the busy main road. Only when she had crossed all two lanes to the other side did she breathe a sigh of relief.
Mission completed! First phase, that is. Right now, she was like an African leopard in an African jungle. The prey was in hand, what was left was to find a safe tree to enjoy it, away from the greedy eyes of other hunters.

***

Caro moved slowly as she surveyed the dark surroundings. She was in search of suitable shelter, but she knew it would not be an easy task in such a heavily populated place. Every few metres, there were two or more street boys seated, standing, smoking or talking in low tones. She could feel eyes on her and she knew that she was in for one hell of a night, but still, shelter had to be found. It was much safer than being exposed out on the streets.
She must have walked for about a kilometer when she saw light bushes up ahead. Something about the bush spoke to her and she had the feeling that it was hiding exactly what she was looking for. She inspected it from outside, but there was nothing to suggest in the dark night that there was a structure anywhere in it.
After a moment of indecision, she took a bold step into the bushes and created a path for herself as she went, little knowing that other leopards were on her trail.
Caro navigated through the bushes with nothing but the fear of snakes on her mind. She had almost hit the wall when she noticed the uncompleted bungalow. It looked like a grand church in the middle of Hell and she was more than happy to see it. She was all for rushing in, but her mind brought her to a halt in time. What if it was occupied... and by the wrong creatures? How uncompleted it was would determine who or what would take refuge in it, so she went around it on a short recon.
One look through one of the low windows showed her that the interior was devoid of any form of development. It was a bare, barren place. There could be no better guest house!
Making her way to the front, she let herself in and chose a corner for herself. She loosened the strings of her frock, making her dinner fall to the ground. Then she picked it up and sat down. She sighed and leaned back, feeling weary from all her adventures of the day. Her legs had worked and overworked and they could use a long night's rest. She stretched them out in front of her, hoping there were no ants around. Then she tore open the nylon the bread was tied in. The little thing was just a little more than her fist, but it would have to do for the night.
She said the Lord's Prayer as she had learned it from her favourite teacher, Miss Andrews and threw in the Catholic crossing for good measure before proceeding to launch her assault.
As she tore and munched and swallowed, she couldn't help but notice the difference between the bread at home and the one here in Lagos. If this piece of dried foam was what they called bread, then she almost wasn't sorry for stealing it!

In a few minutes, she had finished her meal, but satisfied she certainly was not. That was no new thing to her, anyway. Sleeping with an empty stomach was an experience she was familiar with, especially on those evenings in the village when she would fight off boys who wanted to bully or molest her. In the process, she would lose some or even all of the money she had made from sales and as a result, her mother would give her the beating of the century and send her to bed without food.
She may at some point have felt anger, disgust, disappointment at being a girl, but one thing she never felt was regret for standing up to boys. Since she didn't have the privilege of being a boy, she would always do her best to prove to the boys that she could be more than a boy.
Caro did not know when she fell asleep, but she was startled awake by a shuffling sound. It was light enough not to disturb even the lightest of sleepers, but from experiences of night robbery and constant noise from a mother that hardly ever slept, Caro was much more than a light sleeper. She slept with both eyes closed, but with all other sense organs open and alert. A loud innocent wind would not wake her, but the fall of a malicious feather would have her on her feet in a flash - just like she was now.
She could hear voices, low whispers. Her eyes darted to the only possible weapon in the place: a long plank resting on the wall opposite. The moon was up and bright and the light shone through the window behind her.
Quietly, she pulled off her footwear, then crawled to the wall opposite and took possession of the plank just as two young men stole into her abode. It was lucky that the plank was situated in a relatively dark part of the room and she stood there watching them as they, with their backs to her, tiptoed to her erstwhile corner.
"Where the girl na?", one of them whispered.
"How I wan take know?", his friend retorted.
"But na her slippers be this. Where she come go?"
"Maybe she don run."
"Run go where? If we no see this girl today eh, I go change am for you o. Na you say make we wait till she sleep otherwise we for don come hammer am finish since."
"Relax. She go..." But he couldn't complete the statement.
Like lightning, something came out of nowhere and hit his partner on the head, sending him to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He didn't bother to investigate. For all he knew, there were evil ghosts residing here! Choosing the window nearest to him, he flew out of the building and ran for all he was worth without looking back!
Caro looked at the limp body of her formerly potential attacker and breathed a sigh of relief. Her pulse was still pounding, but she was glad of her all-round success in averting the impending danger. They had wanted to 'hammer' her, but she had hammered them instead; one of them at least.
She could see the part of his skull her plank had smashed in. She didn't need a doctor to tell her that his chances of survival were as good as 0 out of 100. He would no longer be a threat to her or anyone else. No more hammering of girls, to be sure.
With a yawn and a sigh, she set down her hero of a plank and lay down on it, determined to sleep till daybreak.