Chapter Nine - Too Much To Carry
by @khalie436
For the first few days, Tiara convinced herself that she could manage.
She would wake up early, go to the supermarket, finish her part-time shift by noon, and head to Mama Bose's shop afterward.
It sounded simple.
It wasn't.
By the time she left the supermarket each afternoon, her body ached. Then she would spend the rest of the day at Mama Bose's shop, folding clothes, attending to customers and helping wherever she could.
She complained about nothing.
She needed the money.
The supermarket paid her ₦7,000 a week because she was working part-time instead of the ₦10,000 offered for full-time work.
It wasn't much, but Tiara had learned that small amounts became important when there was always something waiting to take them.
One afternoon, she was arranging a few items on a shelf when someone walked past her and stopped.
It was the young woman who usually sat behind the counter.
Tiara had seen her almost every day since she started working there. She was one of the regular workers at the supermarket, usually handling payments and attending to customers whenever the place became busy.
She looked at Tiara for a moment.
"You look tired."
Tiara straightened.
"I'm fine."
The girl raised an eyebrow.
"You've said that since morning."
Tiara gave her a tired look.
"So you've been counting?"
"Unfortunately."
Tiara let out a small laugh.
The cashier smiled and picked up a packet from the shelf.
"You should rest when you can."
"I will."
"You always say that too."
Tiara shook her head and returned to arranging the shelf.
She didn't tell her that resting had become a luxury she couldn't always afford.
By the end of the week, the tiredness had become harder to ignore.
One evening at Mama Bose's shop, Tiara sat down after arranging a pile of clothes.
Mama Bose glanced at her.
"Why are you sitting?"
"My legs hurt."
Mama Bose looked at her for a moment.
"You've been saying that for days."
Tiara shrugged.
"It's nothing."
Mama Bose picked up one of the dresses Tiara had folded.
She stared at it.
Then at Tiara.
"Did you fold this?"
Tiara looked at the dress.
"Yes."
Mama Bose held it up.
"You've folded it three times."
Tiara frowned.
"What?"
"You keep unfolding it and folding it again."
Tiara looked at the table.
She hadn't even noticed.
Mama Bose dropped the dress back onto the pile.
"You're tired."
Tiara sighed.
"I can manage."
"No, you can't."
"I need the money."
"I know."
"Then what's the problem?"
Mama Bose folded her arms.
"The problem is that you're trying to work two jobs as if your body doesn't belong to you anymore."
Tiara looked away.
"I need to earn more."
"You're already earning here."
"₦3,000."
"When business is good."
Tiara fell silent.
Mama Bose wasn't wrong.
On good weeks, when customers came and the market moved quickly, Mama Bose gave her ₦3,000.
On slower weeks, her share was less.
Mama Bose wasn't struggling, but she wasn't swimming in money either. Tiara knew that.
She also knew she couldn't keep depending on her.
"I don't want to keep asking you for things," Tiara said quietly.
Mama Bose's expression changed.
"You think I'm feeding you because I expect something back?"
"No."
"Then stop behaving like you're owing me."
Tiara rubbed her palms together.
"I just want to be able to take care of myself."
Mama Bose sighed.
For a few seconds, she said nothing.
Then she pulled out a chair and sat opposite Tiara.
"Stop coming here every day."
Tiara looked up.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"But I can still help."
"You're already working somewhere else."
"I can do both."
Mama Bose gave her a look.
"You can barely do one without looking like somebody chased you through the whole of Ikeja."
Tiara almost laughed.
Almost.
Mama Bose leaned back.
"Focus on the supermarket."
Tiara hesitated.
"But my money here—"
"I'll still give you ₦2,000 every week."
Tiara blinked.
"Even if I don't work here?"
"Yes."
A smile spread across her face before she could stop it.
Mama Bose pointed at her.
"Don't start smiling too much."
Tiara pressed her lips together, but the smile kept trying to escape.
"I wasn't."
"You were."
Tiara looked away, fighting the smile.
Two thousand naira every week without having to split herself between two jobs?
For once, something felt like it was going her way.
"Thank you, ma."
"Don't thank me yet."
Tiara looked back at her.
"You still have to work properly at the supermarket."
"I will."
"And don't think because I'm giving you money, you should become lazy."
"I won't."
Mama Bose nodded.
"Good."
Tiara stood and picked up another dress.
Mama Bose stared at her.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm helping you before I leave."
"I just told you to stop working here."
"You said every day."
Mama Bose shook her head.
"Go home."
Tiara laughed.
"Okay, ma."
The following morning, Tiara arrived at the supermarket earlier than usual.
Her boss looked up from the counter when she walked in.
"You're early."
"Yes, ma."
The woman watched her place her bag down.
"Have you thought about the full-time work?"
Tiara nodded.
"Yes, ma."
"And?"
"I'll do it."
Her boss paused.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"You know you won't be leaving by twelve anymore."
"I know."
"And the ₦7,000 part-time pay won't apply."
Tiara nodded.
"I understand."
"You'll get the full ₦10,000."
"Thank you, ma."
Her boss gave a short nod.
"Then prove you can handle it."
Tiara picked up the broom.
"I will."
The first few hours passed quickly.
Customers came and went. The cashier called out prices. Someone asked for an item they couldn't find. A child cried because his mother refused to buy him sweets.
It was ordinary.
And somehow, Tiara liked that.
There was something comforting about ordinary days.
She didn't have to explain herself to anyone.
She simply had work to do.
Later that afternoon, as she wiped the counter, the cashier came over.
"So you're doing full-time now?"
Tiara looked up.
"Yes."
The cashier nodded.
"Good luck."
Tiara laughed.
"Why are you saying it like I'm going to war?"
The cashier shrugged.
"Because you don't know this place yet."
Tiara smiled.
"Maybe I'll survive."
"We'll see."
She walked away before Tiara could reply.
Tiara shook her head, smiling to herself.
She had no idea what the coming weeks would bring.
But for now, she had made her choice.
One job.
One routine.
And hopefully, enough money to keep moving forward.