Aba is one city that runs on its own clock. Take it or leave it. Not the one on your wristwatch, but something louder. It is just as if there is something that is playing its drums for the residents, and they just run on that beat together like it is something we have agreed to do.
The sound of “Good money, neighbor” begins to ring everywhere as a bell as early as 4 am. Especially if you are living around Ngwa Road axis.
Then comes the sound of Keke (tricycle) horns blaring, and the aroma from the food of early morning roadside food sellers.
I can still remember this particular Tuesday morning in July, when I was time-bound. My mother had forgotten to dew a graduation gown for my little sister and only remembered that Tuesday morning. So she sent me to rush and go and buy a material that will be used to sew the cloth that early morning at Ariaria International Market. She told me she had called the tailor, Madam Chioma, already, and after much begging, her to sew the clothes and explained to her how she had forgotten about it till that morning.
Mama Chioma had made her swear that I would bring the material that morning because she was supposed to go to her own daughter's graduation ceremony too. And that if I didn’t bring the fabric before noon, she wouldn’t sew it again. She will just close her shop and go to the graduation.
That meant I had limited time to rush down to Ariaria International Market and get the material quickly.
Anyone who knows Aba tailors knows they keep their promises when it comes to punishment.
The sun was already hot by that 6 a.m in the morning when I left the house. Every step I was taking just felt like I was running or that I was being chased by something. Actually, I was being chased by the timeframe Mama Chima gave me. That early morning, I was squeezing through narrow walkways in the market and among sweaty bodies. Like, I began wondering why people were already sweating and oozing sweat that early in the morning.
Halfway through the trip. I was almost close to the shop, I was sent to get the materials when I saw my good friend Aluka. I decided to stop for a few minutes and have a little chit-chat before going. In my mind, I was not going to take long. Besides, it was just 7:17 a.m. by my watch. Mama Chioma’s urgent tone was still ringing in my ear. But I thought I could be smart and sharp and still make it on time to her shop. In her words, “Once it is 12 pm, I will close my shop.”
So, I told myself I still had about one hour max to buy the material, and she would use like three hours to finish the cloth. In my teenage mind, that was enough time.
Minutes became hours, and by the time I left his shop, my heartbeat was faster than the market noise.
I got to the fabric stall and there were much people there that I had to wait a long time before I was attended to. When I was done in the fabric stall, I had to fight to find a bus back to Mama Chioma’s shop. Alas, when I got to her shop she was already locking the door.
“You think I’m joking with you?”.
“Aunty, please, it was traffic… plus too much people in the market…”
She hissed but snatched the fabric from my hand. “If not because of the relationship I have with your mother. Next time, respect time if you want people to respect you.”
That evening, I went with my mother to my sister’s graduation ceremony. She looked so perfect in her perfectly sewn graduation gown.
So happy your sister got her gown...my tailor disappointed on my graduation day and i was sad the whole day because I had to wear something entirely different. I enjoyed this.
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STOPRespecting time is just the best as time is a precious thing ever. It's a great thing that your guys attended her graduation.