Thinking Out Loud

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Thinking Out Loud

On a particular trip I embarked on, I was seated close to a “full figured” lady who was carrying her son. Seated some seats in front were another lady and the latter’s other son.
To me, they seemed like mother and daughter, and children/grandchildren because of the way they communicated.
Some minutes into the journey, the mother of the boys (let’s call her Iyabo) asked the other woman in front (maami) for some bread for Michael (son 1) with so much authority that I felt was too much even for ones Mother.
Michael ate the dry bread and asked his mother for water and she did not respond. I gave him the water I bought and the mother thanked me, and passed the water to her other son after Michael has had his feel.
I bought another bottle of water and she asked me for it without the word “please”. I gave her but zerod my mind nit to offer her or her children any more favours as it seemed she was taking advantage of me by asking me for virtually anything she needed.
On the course of her journey, she started telling me things I didn’t feel comfortable knowing because, I was not interested. She told me how the father of her sons died and the family started giving her problems and she had to follow Maami because she (Maami) had a brother who needed a wife and children. Now, I must add that she looked well over mid-twenties and healthy as well.
She begged me after realizing that I was irritated by her story to help her text a number (because she did not own a phone). I refused at first because I felt it wasn’t the wisest thing to do security-wise but I later gave in after telling her that I would add her full name in the text message. She wrote out the message in very lovely handwriting. After a while, the number called and she asked him to meet her at Ijebu-ode.
Iyabo went on to explain that that was her father’s village and she was going to alight there and leave Maami because she didn’t really want to marry her brother.
I had questions for her and she did not reply them satisfactorily (so much for someone eager to share her life story).
“Why did you not seek help in the church you were sleeping in?”
“Were you working or doing any kind of business?”
“Why did you not call this number before now?”
“Why did you agree to Maami’s request when you obviously don’t want to marry her brother?”
To all these questions, her reply was that I wouldn’t understand.
Mehhnnn…. I just locked-up and gave her the silent treatment. I also blocked the number I sent her text to.
Anyway, the driver did not pass through Ijebu-ode, Ijebu- Mushin.
We continued in silence until when she made the mistake of asking me for money to complete her possible transport fare to Abuja from her final destination. I told that she was a grown ass woman and that she should get a fucking life, if not for herself, but for her sons (in verbatim).
I ignored her until they alighted..
I still have lots of questions if all what she narrated was actually true, but na who I go ask?

Are women really that helpless when their partner dies, 

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