Between Her Breast and His Mouth

Sitting down in the dilapidated bus, i was praying fervently for the bus to get filled up. Even taking a flight from lagos to Kaduna did not help in shortening the journey to Zamfara. I always perceived it as a little dot in the Nigerian map, till i was sent there.

I looked at the people from the window of my seat in the bus, soon it will be dark. Many of the people were beggers. It seemed to me that begging was just another form of business in this section of the northern part of the country.

A man walked up to the window of the bus and smiled at me, i was highly taken aback by the stench that followed as he used a finger to pick his nose. He started saying something in hausa that i couldnt catch and grinned. I just couldnt help myself. I just had to turn my face and hold a hand to my nose. This made the man laugh all the more and walk off. Leaving a trail of flies following him.
I sighed.
Thinking to myself " what in God's name am i doing here?"

Soon, the bus started to fill up and a little girl not more than 12 came in carrying a baby. She smiled at me. The baby was rake thin and looking really fragile and was whimpering softly.

"Inakwana" she said in greeting. Good. Atleast i understood that

"Lafia" i replied and smiled back. She was very beautiful and very young too. The baby she was carrying was obviously hers, a baby boy. Dressed in a native blouse and wrapper with gold bangles adorning her wrists, it was sure that she was married. I wondered who to, until an old bent man came in and sat beside her. Hmm... must be her husband. I thought. I almost cringed visibly when he smiled at me. He had next to no teeth and the only front teeth that was visible was as brown as his gum. I turned my face away and pretended to be engrossed in the scene outside the window. Soon the bus was filled and we started on our journey. I sighed in relief and frustration at the smell of unwashed bodies and strange perfumes in the bus.

I prayed the journey will end soon. no such luck.

As the journey progressed, so did the bumps o the road and the wailing of the baby. I was getting increasingly irritated by everything, as the other passengers seeme doblivious to the whole noise, bumps and flies that seemed to be flying everywhere. The little mother tried to pacity the crying baby by putting sugarcane in his mouth, but the baby was having none of it.

Her companion/ husband looked at the baby and said something in hausa to which in reply the little mother put her hand under her cloth and tried to bring out a non existent breast to feed the baby. I watched, curious as to how she was going to feed the baby with such little breasts.
With each bump, his mouth got misplaced in the folds of his mother's blouse as he had little or nothing to hold on to the breast. Iwatched in fascination to see what the mother will do. She held the baby's head very tightly to her chest, almost suffocating the baby. I flinched at the intensity to which she was using to force the baby to get milk from her little breasts.... Hmmm... the baby yelled all d more. trying unsuccessfully to come up for air.

I prayed to God to spare the life of the little one.