He didn’t call out to people. He didn’t stretch out his hands. He didn’t ask for food or money.
He would always sit quietly in his wheelchair beside Esther’s wooden shop, his head always face down, his hands rested on his legs. His wheelchair looked like it would break any time. One of the wheels even leaned sideways.
While others ignored him, Esther always brought him a plate of hot food. Sometimes it was rice. Sometimes it was beans and yam.
She gave it with a big smile. It was a hot afternoon. Esther had just finished serving jollof rice to two schoolboys when she looked up and saw Papa J again, sitting quietly in his usual spot.
His legs were still wrapped in old bandage. His shirt had more holes now. But he just sat there like always, saying nothing.
Esther smiled and scooped hot jollof rice into a plate. She added two small pieces of meat and walked over to him. Papa J, she said gently.
Your food is ready. Papa J looked up slowly. His eyes were tired.
But when he saw Esther, they softened. You always remember me, he said. Esther knelt and placed the food gently on the stool beside him.
Even if the whole world forgets you, she said, I won’t. Just then, a big black car drove up and stopped right in front of her shop. The door opened slowly and a man stepped out.
He was wearing a clean white shirt and dark trousers. His shoes looked shiny, like someone had just polished them. He was tall and strong with deep eyes.
Esther stood up quickly and wiped her hands on her apron. Good afternoon, sir, she said. Good afternoon, the man replied.
But his eyes were not on her. He was looking at Papa J. The man didn’t blink. He just stared at him for a long time.
Papa J kept eating, but Esther noticed something strange. He had stopped chewing. The man took a step closer and tilted his head like he was trying to remember something.
He turned to her and said, Please give me one plate of jollof rice. Add meat. Esther quickly served the food and handed it to him.
But as he took the food, he looked back at Papa J one more time. This time, his eyes looked unsure. He opened the car door, entered without a word, and drove off.
The next morning, Esther woke up early. She swept in front of her food shop and cleaned her wooden table like always. As the sun rose, she kept looking down the road.
Any moment now, she whispered, Papa J will roll in. But hours passed. No wheelchair.
No Papa J. By noon, her heart began to beat fast. She walked to the side of the shop and looked down both ends of the street. Where is he? She asked herself.
She asked Mama Titi, the woman selling vegetables nearby. Auntie, did you see Papa J today? Mama Titi laughed and waved her hand. That old man? Maybe he crawled to another street.
He doesn’t have legs. Esther didn’t laugh. She asked two boys selling sachet water.
Have you seen the old man in a wheelchair? They shook their heads. She even asked the bike man who parked nearby. Sir, did you see Papa J this morning? The man spat on the ground and said, maybe he’s tired of sitting in one place.
Or maybe he’s gone. Esther’s chest became heavy. She sat beside her pot of rice and stared at the empty spot where Papa J always sat.
Her eyes didn’t leave that space. All day. Two more days passed.
Still, no sign of Papa J. Esther couldn’t smile like before. She served customers, but her face looked sad. She couldn’t eat much.
Even the smell of her sweet jollof rice made her feel sick. Her thoughts kept running to Papa J. Did something bad happen to him? She said quietly. At night, she sat alone in her small room behind the shop.
She held the last plate she served him with and looked at it. Papa J never misses a day, she said softly. Even when it rains.
Even when he’s sick. So why now? She stood up, opened her small window and looked out into the dark street. A cold breeze entered the room.