Chapter Eight - Something More
by @khalie436
By the end of the week, Tiara had counted the money three times.
₦3,000.
She sat on the edge of the mattress, the notes spread across her palm.
Three thousand naira for a week of helping Mama Bose at the shop.
It wasn't bad.
At least, that was what Tiara kept telling herself.
Mama Bose gave her food. She had a place to sleep. She wasn't paying rent, and nobody was asking her to contribute to the electricity bill or water.
But there were still things she needed.
Her antenatal medicines.
Toiletries.
Small things she couldn't keep asking Mama Bose to buy for her.
And sometimes, when the shop had a slow week, even the ₦3,000 wasn't guaranteed.
Tiara folded the money and placed it beneath her pillow.
She stared at the ceiling.
Three thousand.
She let out a quiet breath.
"No."
She sat up.
She couldn't keep doing this.
The next morning, she helped Mama Bose open the shop as usual.
She swept the front of the shop, arranged the clothes and dusted the shelves while Mama Bose counted the previous day's sales.
"Fold those ones properly," Mama Bose said without looking up.
"I am folding them properly."
Mama Bose glanced over.
"You call that proper?"
Tiara looked at the pile in her hands.
"They're folded."
"They're suffering."
Tiara looked at her.
"Clothes can suffer now?"
Mama Bose shook her head.
"Just leave them."
Tiara bit back a smile and continued folding.
A customer came in shortly after.
Then another.
For the next few hours, there was barely time to sit.
Tiara moved between the racks, brought out different sizes, collected clothes from customers who changed their minds and returned things to their places.
When business slowed down, she leaned against the wall and rubbed her feet.
Mama Bose noticed.
"You're tired?"
"A little."
"Then sit."
Tiara sat on the small wooden stool beside her.
Mama Bose handed her a sachet of water.
"Drink."
Tiara accepted it.
"Thank you, ma."
Mama Bose nodded and returned to arranging the clothes.
Tiara watched her for a moment.
She knew Mama Bose was helping her.
She knew it.
That was exactly why she didn't want to keep taking.
The following morning, Tiara left the shop after breakfast.
She didn't tell Mama Bose exactly where she was going.
She simply said she wanted to look around for something.
She started with the shops along the next street.
"Good morning, ma."
The woman behind the counter looked up.
"Good morning."
"Please, ma. Are you looking for someone to help out here?"
"No."
"Oh. Okay. Thank you."
She moved on, her hope shrinking just a little more.
At another shop, they already had two workers.
At a small restaurant, the owner looked her over before shaking her head.
"You're pregnant?"
Tiara nodded.
"I can still work."
The woman shook her head.
"I'm sorry."
Tiara swallowed.
"It's okay."
She walked away.
By noon, her legs felt heavy.
She stopped beneath the shade of a shop and looked down the road.
People were everywhere.
Some were carrying bags.
Some were rushing to work.
Some were standing around talking as though they had nowhere else to be.
Everyone seemed to have somewhere they belonged.
Tiara adjusted her scarf and kept walking.
At another store, a man told her they weren't hiring.
At a food stall, the woman said she needed someone who could work longer hours.
At a salon, the owner asked whether she knew how to braid.
Tiara admitted she didn't.
"Then sorry, my dear."
Another dead end.
She almost turned back.
Then she noticed a small mini supermarket a little farther down the road.
She stood outside for a moment.
Inside, shelves were lined with provisions, drinks and household items. A woman sat behind the counter, flipping through a notebook.
Tiara took a breath and walked in.
"Good afternoon, ma."
The woman looked up.
"Good afternoon."
"Please, ma. Are you looking for someone to work here?"
The woman studied her.
"What can you do?"
"I can attend to customers, arrange things and clean."
"You've worked before?"
"I help someone at a clothes shop."
The woman glanced at her stomach.
"You're pregnant."
"Yes, ma."
"And you still want to work?"
Tiara held her gaze.
"Yes."
The woman leaned back in her chair.
"We need someone to clean the shop every morning and help with little things when customers come."
"I can do it."
"You'll sweep, mop and wash sometimes."
"I can do it."
"You're sure?"
Tiara nodded.
"I need the work."
Something in her answer made the woman pause.
Finally, she closed the notebook.
"The pay is ₦10,000 a week."
Tiara almost thought she had heard wrong.
"Ten thousand?"
The woman nodded.
"Every week?"
"Yes. But the work must be done properly."
Tiara straightened.
"I will."
"You can start tomorrow."
A breath she hadn't realized she was holding escaped her.
"Thank you, ma."
She stepped outside.
For a few seconds, she simply stood there.
Then she looked down at her hands.
Ten thousand.
It wasn't a fortune.
But it was more than she had been making in a week.
She smiled.
Then she remembered Mama Bose waiting for her at the shop.
She turned around and started walking back.
This time, her steps felt lighter—as though the weight on her shoulders had eased just a little.
Not because everything was suddenly fine.
It wasn't.
But at least she had found something she could hold on to.