Chapter 2: The Day My Slippers Betrayed Me in Circle
After surviving that tro-tro drama and stepping into Circle, I thought the worst part of my day was over.
I even said a small prayer of thanks under my breath. Foolish me.
I was trying to cross the main road — you know that part near the overhead where the cars behave like they are in Fast and Furious?
I looked left, looked right, calculated my destiny, and then made my move.
That's when it happened.
One minute, I was running heroically across the road, minding my business.
The next minute, my left slipper snapped like it had been planning it since morning.
"Gblaaaam!"
I landed straight on my knee like a disgraced Olympic sprinter.
The cars started honking. People were shouting:
"Hey, mad man, clear from road!"
"W'abodam? You dey cross or you dey dance?"
I scrambled up, holding my broken slipper like a dead body, my jeans torn at the knee, my pride completely shattered.
Now I had two choices:
Walk barefoot in Circle market like a professional beggar. Or perform surgery on the spot and fix the slipper.
I chose violence.
I squatted right there by the gutter, using a random stick and one old rubber band I found on the ground to tie the slipper together like a mechanic.
People were passing by, giving me side-eye like I was a mad inventor.
After about ten minutes of serious engineering, I managed to fix it enough to drag myself to a nearby kiosk and buy new slippers — twenty cedis gone just like that.
As I walked away, I told myself:
"Samuel, today, you are not a human being. You are a living testimony."
And I limped all the way home with my new slippers, praying nothing else would disgrace me before I reached my room.
End of Chapter 2