LOVE IN THE RAIN

It was still early morning when the rain started beating the trotro roof like someone throwing stones. The mate leaned out, shouting, "Accra! Accra!" but traffic at Lapaz hadn't moved in thirty minutes. Ama pressed her forehead against the foggy window. Her neatly ironed white shirt was already sticking to her back. She was going to be late for work. Again. Her thumb rubbed the strap of her black handbag, faster and faster. She thought about her boss, Mrs. Mensah, and her sharp eyes. Three times late in one month meant a query. Ama could not afford a query. She had just moved to a small single room at Ablekuma, and her rent was due in two weeks. The rain grew heavier. Water started dripping from the trotro roof onto her shoulder. She shifted, trying to avoid it, but there was nowhere to move. The trotro was packed. A woman with a baby on her back was snoring softly beside her. A school boy was trying to do his homework on his lap. Then the trotro door swung open. Cold air rushed in and with it, a tall guy holding the biggest umbrella she had ever seen. He was not the usual trotro passenger. His shirt was dry, his shoes were clean despite the mud outside. He smiled, and his eyes found Ama immediately. Ama quickly looked away. She was not in the mood for trotro love stories. But the rain had other plans. The mate shouted, "Last stop! Traffic no dey move! Everybody come down!" Everyone groaned. Ama stepped down into the rain, and within seconds, her white shirt was soaked. She ran to a nearby provision shop for shelter, hugging her handbag to her chest. The tall guy followed her. He opened his big umbrella and held it over her without asking. "Hello pretty, it's raining heavily. Join me, the umbrella is big enough for two," he said, smiling. Ama hesitated. Her mother had warned her about Accra boys and their sweet mouths. But the rain was beating her, and his umbrella was truly big. "Thank you," she whispered, stepping under it. "I'm Kwame," he said. "And you?" "Ama," she replied, not looking at him. They stood there in silence, watching the rain wash the dusty street. Taxis splashed water. Sellers ran with their goods on their heads. The whole of Lapaz smelled of wet earth and fried kelewele from a nearby stall. "You work around here?" Kwame asked. "At the bank junction. I'm already late," Ama sighed. "Don't worry. This rain will stop soon. Accra rain is like a jealous boyfriend. It comes hard and leaves fast." Ama laughed despite herself. It was the first time she had laughed that morning. For ten minutes they stood under that umbrella, talking like old friends. He told her he was a graphic designer who worked from home. She told him she was a customer service officer who hated being late. When the rain finally reduced to a drizzle, Kwame folded his umbrella slightly and said, "Let me walk you to your junction. A pretty lady shouldn't walk alone in this mud." Ama wanted to say no. But her shoes were already spoiled, and his company was... nice. As they walked, Ama felt something she hadn't felt in a long time. Hope. Maybe Accra wasn't so hard after all. Maybe this rainy morning was the start of something new. She didn't know that Kwame was watching her more carefully than she thought, and that this was not the last time the rain would bring them together.It will surely bring them back.