CHAPTER 3A few days later, with thoughts of the talk with her mother still lingering in her mind, Lara wandered into a dry cleaner’s shop in Gbagada. She could not even remember how exactly she had navigated the roads, got off at the right bus stop, and walked to the dry cleaner’s shop to pick up her father’s laundry. But she had managed it somehow, and now she just stood staring at the attendant. It was only after he said “Aunty, how can I help you?” that she finally snapped out of her reverie.
“Oh, sorry!” said Lara. “I came to pick up two suits and three shirts for my father.”
“Name, please.”
“Mr. Adefuye.”
The guy had to be new, and from Lara’s peremptory assessment, he would not last long there either. The bored, “I-don’t-want-to be-here” look on his face was a dead giveaway.
I d
