The bus was full before the man entered. His oversized suit almost hooked with the sliding door as it roared closed. As he fixed his tie and swiped the beads of sweat on his temple, I wondered where he would sit but he smiled and said, "I am here to pray for you, for your journey..."

The bus started moving and the potbellied pastor, hunched as a conductor would position,  jerked. His stomach hit the woman before him but she didn't react. As he preached, spit splashed from his mouth and splattered on her. The woman only squirmed but didn't utter a word. With the way she nodded and conquered what he said, it was clear she needed a miracle.

As if punished for my profanity, we joined a long train of traffic. I couldn't take the flimsy promises the pastor preached about, so I inserted my airpod, obscured them with my braids, and then placed my head on the glass. I drifted to sleep only to be woken by several taps on the glass. An old beggar stood behind. He didn't speak, he only stretched his palm forth, supporting his weight with a stilt. I reached into my breast pocket and gave him two-hundred naira. His eyes widened and he spoke in an unusual dialect— probably thanking me.

The traffic awarded the pas more time to ramble about things he hasn't witnessed. Unlike the woman beside me nodding away, the woman the pastor rained with spittle still conquered with nods. It was a good thing I couldn't hear him while Asap Rocky rapped in my ears. I refocused my attention outside and noticed the train of beggars walking the aisle of the traffic. As if migrating from their community to another. They even outnumbered the hawkers carrying huge trays over their heads.

Just when I finally closed my eyes again, a gunshot rang out but I didn't flinch because I thought it was from my music. Screams pierced through my airpods and caused my eyes to fly open. The first thing I saw was a beggar pulling out a matchet from his tattered jalabiah. He proceeded to use the machete to hack the child in front  My heart momentarily stopped, then it raced. I ducked like my seatmate but I didn't kabash as she did.

The glass beside me shattered and the bits landed on my back. a grip on my collar tightened the shirt around my neck and pulled me through the broken window. The sharp edges tore my clothes and scraped every inch of my body that passed through. I landed on the hot asphalt with a heavy tud and heard a crack but with the pain eching around my body I couldn't tell what hurt. It was the same beggar I gave money. Without warning, with the hilt of his gun, he knocked the lights out of me.

It was like floating in a void, a dead astronaut in space. Conscious in nothing. Voices began to pop into the void like tiny stars. Then, light from above rushed into me like I was been swallowed by something magnificent. But as I opened my eyes, I realized it was only the sun. I could only squint to shade the sunlight rushing into my eyes. I noticed I was on a roller, and the voices belonged to the paramedics  traversing the roller to a nearby ambulance.