David had gotten a job.

David realised that he couldn't leave the house completely. He had nothing — he had no educational degree nor power. He was still very young and would be homeless once he decided to leave his family for good. David knew that he would die in a few days of residing in the streets.

Even if death was something he would have loved to suffer, David knew he had to live. He felt the need to stay alive. Alexander had begged him not to do something terrible, and somehow, that plea had mattered to David. Also, David hadn't decided to leave the house to die like a chicken. Dying was too cheap a punishment for the grievous sin he had committed.

He had to live.

And writhing perpetually in guilt was the price he had to pay for living while his precious little sister was dead.

Yet, staying at home suffocated David because the silence that continually hovered over the atmosphere was choking and unbearable. Everyone's compassion lacked depth. Beneath their muteness and solemnity, David could see clearly beneath their masks, which made the guilt he felt a lot more severe.

Since David discovered that he couldn't completely leave the house but, at the same time, had to stay away, he arrived at a befitting conclusion.

He was going to work.

He was going to work his ass off like Yemisi and Folakemi had been doing for years. After all, he'd always wanted to do this — to bring a permanent solution to his family's terrible financial condition by being one of the world's richest men. Now, there was no way he could do that with the silent treatment he'd been getting from his family since Sindara's death. Worse off, his efforts so far to redeem himself and make his family happy again have yielded either negative results or futility.

Nevertheless, he wanted to try.

David did not know the layouts nor the nooks and crannies of Lagos State. He had no connections, neither did he know of which place he had to go to secure a job, but he knew Obalende Avenue — the street where Yemisi hawked her agege bread, and it was quite a busy place.

One might consider David's decision to job-hunt at Obalende Avenue to be a dumb one. Yemisi hawked at Obalende Avenue, and David wanted to be far away from home as much as possible. Yemisi could easily spot him during her sauntering through the avenue and advertising her goods to prospective buyers. If she did see him, David would have lots of questions to answer, and worse off, that solemn look on her face that made David want to jump into a well was another thing he wished to avoid.

However, David had given that obstacle a proper thought. Since David didn't know anywhere else in Lagos apart from the location of his school (in which its surroundings was as silent and deserted as graveyard) and Obalende Avenue, David figured that he could monitor Yemisi's closing time and go home an hour before or an hour after she left the avenue so she wouldn't suspect that he worked in the same vicinity as hers.

Also, he would do his best to trek far and wide into the avenue and sojourn into every corner down each street so that even if he were in the same route with Yemisi, he would be as distant as possible. Additionally, to be extra careful, he would have to disguise himself as someone else every day he had to go to work.

From the dullness of the sky to the numerous tweeting of birds and other dawn creatures alike, David could tell that he'd woken up very early — perhaps, before everyone else in the house.

Perfect!

David reached for the pocket of his kaftan and began to search for the keys — the keys to the backdoor of the house. A few years ago, Folakemi had specifically given David and Yemisi extra keys to the back door of the house just in case anyone of them needed to get out of the house urgently or in the case of an emergency.

Although thankfully, the family didn't have to deal with a robbery incident over the years, the extra keys had come in handy for David a few times — especially when he was trying to avoid doing house chores on a school day. So it didn't take him long before he was able to unearth the key.

Then he grabbed his clothes, or rather, his disguise from the handle of the chair and rose from the mattress, tip-toeing to the door so he wouldn't wake his sleeping brother. He'd already made so much noise while rummaging through Alexander's cupboard to grab his Sunday's best suit, tie and oversized trousers. When he got to the door, about to leave the room, he hesitated before turning the handle of the door. David felt the urge to look at Alexander as he slept peacefully on the bed but decided against it. He would come back later at night, so he didn't have to look at Alexander as though it would be his last time seeing him.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the door handle and stepped out of the room. Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen where the backdoor was located. Still, he was sure to tiptoe. The living room curtains hadn't been pulled apart, so the light that shone into the space was taking on a dim ray which meant that everyone in the house was still asleep. Still, he had to be careful because anyone could be nearby and watching him closely.

When he entered the kitchen, he rushed to the house's backdoor even with the poor lighting that the cuisine had been provided with. David could barely see, yet he moved like he could. Without wasting another second, he inserted the key into one of the three fuzzy-looking locks that proved the most substantial, and soon, the door had opened.

David stepped out of the house and into the sandy backyard outside. The sky had still been clouded with mist. The colours of the trees from metres away were indecipherable due to the fog acting as a grey nimbus. David listened and looked closely. No sound except for the tweeter of the birds and morning creatures alike could be heard — not even the faint honking of trailers from streets away. He couldn't hear footsteps, too, which meant that no one was present on the road. A snail would have been able to cross to the other side of the road successfully.

It was the perfect time to go job-hunting.

When David was sure he was out of prying eyes, he slipped into the shed by the backyard where his mother stored a few items and proceeded to change his clothes into Alexander's Sunday best. The changing process should not have taken much time had it not been for the buckling and fastening of the belt against the oversized, baggy trousers. After buttoning the suit to look smart and presentable, he slipped on the face cap firmly on his head and was prepared to dash out of the compound of his house into the streets.

Then David stopped after he'd barely moved an inch away from his house. He'd suddenly thought of his academics. It was ridiculous how he hadn't given that aspect of his life a thought until that moment. What was going to happen to his academics? His parents hadn't paid his school fees for the term, but his mother had struggled to buy him a school bag at the market a day before Sindara had died.

Right. A day before Sindara died.

A day before David had betrayed his mother. A day before he'd caused sorrow to befall her. An event she could never have foreseen. It is miraculous how tomorrow comes every day, but we fail to see the miracle until a day arrives when tomorrow doesn't come.

There was no way Folakemi would be interested in paying his school fees now. Even if she pretended to be interested, David was sure that his father wouldn't drop a dime to further his education. There was no way Kelvin was going to pay the fees of a child who'd killed his daughter.

I'd better forget about school.

David realised that looking for a job was an adequate decision to make because this was another potent reason. Also, his mother was pregnant and would be having her baby one day. David deciphered that it was best never to meet his unborn sibling. A pure and sinless soul should never encounter a demon like him.

David squared his shoulders and adjusted the collar of his stolen suit for the umpteenth time. Then he noticed a drop of moisture on his palm as he brought it up to smoothen his suit. Then he looked to the sky, confused. Had rain been falling? No.

Then he touched his face and realised that he'd been crying while he was deeply in the realm of his thoughts. David wiped his bitter tears and rushed out of his family house, sparing no other thoughts of guilt to overwhelm him.

***
David hadn't, for once, stopped to walk his way to Obalende Avenue. All along, he'd ran as though there was a widely spreading inferno tearing down houses behind him. The trees and houses rushed past him in a blurry, jagged line. The fog from the sky seemingly followed him as he sprinted.

And yet, after all that running, when he'd gotten to Obalende Avenue where commerce resided, it was as though the morning didn't exist. The streets were noisy, and the cacophony appeared naturally to David's ears — like it was supposed to be. It seemed as though time had been suspended in Obalende Avenue, so there was never a time when the environment was supposed to be quiet.

Hawkers were energised with new profit goals for a new day, chasing after speeding cars and chanting songs about their commodities to entice forthcoming consumers. Shops had opened, various wares were displayed for selection. As David studied the environment for a moment, he realised that he couldn't slow down. He'd run all the way here. He had to run some more if he was intent on finding a job.

The hawkers were already busy on the streets, and David was sure they would acquire more monetary profit than hawkers who would come later in the morning. Hence, he had to learn from the hawkers and walk faster to get a good job.

And walk faster he did — past shops that sold different commodities ranging from foodstuff to clothes, furniture, and electric supplies. David had hoped he could work as a salesboy for any of the shops he'd come across, but as David stopped by each shop, he saw an attendant - a lad or a lady already working and attending to customers in the stead of the shop owners, their employers. They were dressed in simple clothes with aprons tied to their waists  — the appearance of someone ready to work — unlike him, who'd stolen his younger brother's Sunday best.

Who was he kidding?

Dressing up professionally in a suit, tie and baggy trousers to hunt for a job in a place where profession didn't exist? David couldn't blame the people who threw askance glances at him while he walked.

He hadn't given his appearance a proper thought. All he had been thinking of was a disguise. But now, it wasn't even certain that Yemisi would come to Obalende Avenue today since she and the rest of the family were still mourning Sindara's demise. Also, this goddamn suit and tie could prevent him from getting a job against his will. People would think he was a well-to-do boy and wouldn't spare him another glance if he approached them for help. He could get lost in the ninth circle of hell for all they cared.

Nevertheless, David was already here, and he couldn't give up. Maybe he could find a place that hired cashiers and typists. He knew how to read and write so he could qualify. David walked some more. The farther he walked, the hotter it became. Soon a single drop of sweat had trickled down from his forehead and disappeared into the collar of his shirt.

Cool rays from the slowly rising sun were beginning to reflect eastwards over the glass windows of the cars that passed by and giving a glistening glow to the asphalt road. Now, after covering a few more meters, David had gotten to a more quiet arena in Obalende Avenue.

David remembered promising himself internally a week ago that he would sojourn through the deepest corners of Obalende Avenue. But now as he looked around the area with only houses in view — no shops, hawkers, or passersby, that promise no longer sounded promising.

David decided to scan the area one last time before leaving. And that was when he noticed a truck at the far end of the street. A truck? In a place as quiet as this? David walked a few more steps till he was a bit closer to the truck. Then he saw a man come out from behind the truck and walk into a gate opposite the truck's location.

Then he saw the same man come out of the gate a few minutes later with about five bags of pure water sachets — two bags on each hand and one bag rested on his head. Then he offloaded the bags at the booth of the truck. Then a few other men came out of the same gate, holding packs of pure water sachets as well and doing what the first man had done.

A pure water factory. David deduced.

Then a burly, bald man with tribal marks on his chin came out of the gate. He wasn't carrying any pure water sachet bags. He looked rich in his lace attire and wore a seemingly expensive wristwatch.

The boss of the factory.

Then, the man looked in the direction where David was standing. Their eyes met. The man started to approach David. David's stomach folded up in a twisted knot of anxiety and fear. Oh my God, Oh my God. What? Why's he coming to me? To slap me? Drive me away? Laugh at me? Call me a beggar?

When the man was only now a few inches away from David, he dug his hands into the pocket of his lace trousers and with a slight smile on his cheeky face, he said:

"That..." he pointed at the truck loaded with bags of pure water. "...will be fifteen thousand naira."

"Huh?" David's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He'd expected every form of reaction from the man, but this? What was this? He hoped it wouldn't be what he thought it was. Damn this suit and tie!

"Eh, eh?" The burly man eyed David. "Are you not the one that placed an order for fifty bags of pure water? Abi, why are you looking at me like épa?"

"S-sir," David fought the urge to laugh even though this was a serious situation. "I'm not the owner of this truck, neither was I the one that asked for fifty bags of pure water sachets."

"Eh? Mr Man, don't play with me ooo! What do you mean you're not the—" he stopped his sentence midway and for once, took his time to have a good look at David then slowly, his angry expression contorted into one of curiosity and surprise when he realised that David looked nothing like a rich man — even with the suit and tie. "Young boy, what are you doing here? Are you lost? Why are your eyes so swollen?" The man moved closer until his hands now rested on David's shoulders. "Did you cry all night? I can help you find your way home if you can tell me where you stole this suit from."

God, David rolled his eyes mentally. I'm not homeless, big man and I stole this suit from my younger brother! If you don't let me answer your multiple questions, I might resume my crying session from where I stopped last night. Please stop pitying me. That's why I ran away from home. I couldn't stand the solemn looks of my mother and my siblings.

"I... I'm not lost, sir. I came here to look for a job, sir," David answered slowly, unable to meet the man's compassionate and solemn gaze.

"Oh..." the man removed his hands from David's shoulders and inserted them back into the pocket of his trousers. "Is that why you came here wearing a suit and tie? I'm sorry young boy, but I'm not looking for an accountant or a cashier. I already have people who play that role for me."

David's shoulders sagged in despair. He had a feeling that the man just didn't want to employ him as a cashier even if the post was, perhaps, vacant. Maybe the man thought him unable.  Was his appearance going to obstruct him from getting this job?

Well, that's if you let it obstruct you. A strange voice said in David's subconscious.

Inspiration struck him — or perhaps, common sense.

"S-sir, I can help you carry bags of pure water like those men!" David's eyes shone brightly.

The burly man who was already retreating to his factory turned towards David and started to laugh. He laughed so much till he touched his aching belly for support.

"You?"

That was all the man had to say for David to get the clear message. The "you" already held a thousand meanings. You little boy? You lean boy? You incapable boy? David swallowed thickly, feeling a tinge of shame. David knew he was incompetent. That was why all of his efforts always yielded negative results. David was going to give up and accept the harsh reality that he was a failure. Then David remembered that he couldn't go back home. He couldn't let that demeaning comment obstruct him.

He had to work.

So he squared his shoulders and replied:

"Yes, me."

The man scanned David one last time, disbelief evident in the thick lines of his forehead. Then with a slight smirk on his face, he answered.

"Okay, nau. Come here tomorrow by six am."
Let me see what that lean body of yours can do.

David could hear the unsaid sentence from the way sarcasm dripped in the burly man's tone. Still, David didn't let it get to him. He had gotten the job and was going to prove his ability to the burly man by all means!

***

David had arrived at the factory an hour before the burly man had asked him to come — to prove his readiness to work. He'd worn something much simpler now but hadn't forgotten to wear his face cap to maintain the purpose of his disguise and easily avoid getting seen by Yemisi.

Now, he was standing in the store section of the factory where pure water bags were offloaded by able and muscular men — for customers who were going to arrive later in the day to buy loads of pure water.

"You there! Why you dey stand for there? Come carry water, joor!" one of the strong men who offloaded the water sachet bags turned to David and yelled at him with angry eyes.

David flinched. He'd been waiting for the burly man to arrive and give him an instruction, but it was until the man had shouted at him that he realised that the other men who had been offloading the water bags hadn't waited for the burly man to come and tell them what to do. David felt stupid.

Quickly, he moved his limbs and followed the dark-skinned man into another factory section where the water sachets were being manufactured. The people who worked in this department of the factory wore laboratory coats and gloves. The space was filled with pipes, shrink wrap machines and several other devices. There were also short stools that were made of stainless steel.

"Carry those bags of water," the man instructed David as he pointed to a corner in the ample space where six bags of pure water had been stacked on a metal container that had pointy edges.

For a minute, David stood still, dumbfounded. How was he going to carry six bags of pure water at once? Then he figured out a way as soon as he asked himself the question — two sacks in his right hand, two sacks in his left hand, and two on his head.

Then he moved towards the corner and began. He picked up two bags that contained at least twenty sachets of pure water after removing his face cap and placed them gently on his head, the weight of each bag sinking in on his skull. The heaviness of the load made it difficult for David to bend down and occupy his hands with the remaining four bags of water.

Still, he tried. Moaning under his breath, he crouched down slightly, careful not to let the bags on his head fall away and burst open. Then, he picked the remaining bags by the tied knot — two pure water bags in his right hand and two in his left. Unknown to David, one of the bags had scratched against the pointy edge of the metal container, causing the bottom of the bag to spill open as he picked it up.

Now that David had successfully carried the six bags, he straightened his back and started to head to the store where the other men offloaded the bags. David tried to move as swiftly as he could so the weight of the bags could be lifted off. But while he walked, he noticed that the weight of the bags became less heavy as he took more steps.

What is going on?

Instinctively, he felt the need to cross-check and see if he had really carried the six bags of water without leaving any bag behind.

As he bent his head slightly to look, disaster loomed. Before David could register the fact that the pure water sachets had been falling to the ground from the busted bag as he walked, David tripped over, toppling on his feet and fell in a hazardous way on the slippery ground — slippery because the floor was now filled with the water from the sachets that fell from the bag — or all the bags since the remaining five loads of pure water had now fallen to the ground as well.

Bang!

David felt his forehead collide with something sharp. He touched the area of his forehead that burned achingly. Before he could even attempt to figure out what the brazen object was, he saw blood on his palm – blood that was gushing out of his injured forehead.

David looked around. His clothes had now been drenched in the water, and all the six bags of pure water had been wasted on the ground. Money, resources and efforts had been wasted because an incompetent boy like him slipped to the ground due to his inability to carry merely six bags of pure water.

David removed his hand from his injured forehead and let the blood flow down from his face like pelting rain. He shouldn't try to stop the blood from flowing. This injury was his punishment. He deserved the pain he was feeling, and he shouldn't try to put a stop to it.

I killed my sister. I made her go through a slow and agonising process of death. I deserve to get injured multiple times and have blood gush out of my body like a river as my punishment for the discomfort I've caused everyone — including the workers at this pure water factory.

As David thought those thoughts, he began to love and relish the pain.