THE WAKE OF A CITY; LIFE AT NIGHT

Late nights are the most unsafe. I know this because I have been there before, a victim of the night. I am all too familiar with the dark cruel face of the night. Way long ago we, yes we were young and full of life. Hands intertwined, eager to get to the movie but, rather we four encountered a manic. The darkness engulfed our screams and kept us hidden as we experienced a harsh reality. I got off better than the rest of my three friends. We couldn’t stay together, we were reminders to each other, and we went apart. Living separate lives now, the act is now a long gone history. Too long even I forgot and fell into the rhythm of the night having never truly experienced it. And in the night I found much more, that in dark corners lurk both savior and strength and perpetrators looking to complete an act.

A city lives, breathes, and speaks. But you can only know this identity when you visit it in its wake. Ashley met the city one night, and since that night, she’s been obsessed and madly in love with it.

Ashley’s route to work is a 15 minutes’ walk and she takes that walk every day. A bridge traverses the river connecting their city to the city across. Before the bridge, she walks past a park _just an open area that sits on the bank of a river and has a fountain in its midst_. Going farther back is the square that lies in front of her entrance _Just a square within a short distance outlined with shops some having retractable awnings_. They are mostly locked or just open when Ashley walks past every time. Ashley lives two houses behind the square. But her house is taller and bigger than the one before it, and she lives at the top, her window faces the square so if she ever did want she could see the square just sitting there. But she has a blind on the window, she loves privacy so much, __or maybe it’s just the night she wishes not to see __She opens it just once, in the day while preparing for work, and shuts it before she leaves and never opens it when she gets back. Rather she watches movies, plays music, and chats. But what truly keeps her indoors and takes most of her evenings and early mornings is her great obsession with puzzles. Most times she’s either putting together or doing a domino puzzle. She has all sorts of puzzles in her domain and setting them up first starts like the urge _like a frenzy_ in the process her mind doesn’t get calmer or quieter when solving a puzzle_ rather it’s noisy and disorderly and in such a state, she acts fast until eventually she comes to a state of calm by solving a reasonable extent_ This system became a routine rehearsed for so long she has forgotten the reason for it in the first place she came to love set puzzle. I do not think her urge to set puzzles comes from a place of love but rather something else.

The other part of the city, across the bridge, the corporate part of the city with malls with labeled brands, restaurants, and cuisines that’s is where she gets whatever she wants, barely ever paying attention to the square and little shops in her area.

Ashley was out of goodwill on this day, night had fallen upon her, she lost her headphones and she was just tired of the exhausting day that started off with them losing a major client, her boss getting riled up when other clients started calling in with the same issue and the rest of the day was just filled with troubleshooting and how a little neglect came to be so consequential. She just wanted to get home. Walking home her tired mind wandered, and then her attention was slowly drawn to her surroundings as the air gradually changed having walked halfway across the bridge, she felt different…lighter. She has no idea what’s so different but I do. She has never truly seen the night, and barely even knows what night is. Perhaps she knows darkness, but not night. She was always home by 6 and hardly went outside when it was dark. But tonight she was here, feeling the breeze on her skin, slipping under her clothes, ruffling her dress trying to pick on her. But she isn’t annoyed, rather soothed and free, evident from the way she spread her hands, and then she stands still giving room for the breeze coming from the river beneath, which climbs a height to swing past her easing her of the day’s stress momentarily. Finally, she opens her eyes and smiles__ more like chuckles_ and the sound has carried the distance the breeze traveled.

She continued and she moved further home.

7 minutes gone out of 15

Ashley thought she knew this park well, she had walked it so many times, and often time it was less crowded than now. Those who she saw here in the mornings or evenings were usually playing loud music or resting from a jog _tired and loud_. But this scene was a real transformation. This place had a different look, such a scene and she came to the conclusion that the day hid too much from us. The light of the day was more blinding than revealing _and in cases, you choose to consider it revealing then it is too bright to have a contrast__ These bottles looked disorderly and dirty littered in the day. Now were lit and its LED twinkles lit the place up in such a fairy way. She could hear the fountain fall, Its sound was not swallowed by music or loud noise. But it added to the rhythm of the night as the old couples danced to its tune. And the serenity of the night was found in the quiet murmuring of people standing and seating their faces gently lit in the dark.

She walked past, sighting a couple seated close to each other, looking at how their lips moved it was obvious they were speaking in such a low tone they couldn’t possibly hear each other. She knew that those words were not how they communicated, but there was much more and they didn’t need to hear the word to know what they were saying And just a few stairs up, a young lady sat with a fury-looking dog lying next to her, its face almost cover by its fur, only its eyes were black and distinct from its brown furs. She lay on her elbow with a headset and her head looking up high as high as the music took him. He looked like she was in a different world. As she walked slowly past, she couldn’t get herself to tear away from this life scene, from the older couple dancing and the young couple now smiling and watching. She saw how the light cast shadows of the tree it intertwined in, and in the shadow laid a squirrel, staring at this event.

8 minutes gone

In her street square, a little shop directly in front of the path that leads to her building has an awning; The slim man who owns the shop was always there with an apron. She has never gotten anything from that shop or anyone in her street, but she knows all the shops, has seen them all… knows them. She tried to fetch how much she knew about them _what they sold, what the shop owners were like, and even what the shop looked like_ her brain just took a while to unpack loads of memories in the "going to process this later box,” the box you put things you say you are going to get to later. And this info was at the bottom of the box, even after the wait, she had little to nothing in the file. Ashley noticed the twinkling light hung on objects to make stunning effects they contrasted the dark. The yellow LED light twinkling, hot groundnut oil hissing, and food street foods being wrapped in paper, steaming hot but not too hot to be held.

The street filled with so many people she had never known lived in this city, faces she'd never seen, but they were all familiar with each other. Calling out to each other, sellers calling out to buyers by names, and making jest. And buyers chatting and complimenting the food. She kept walking slowly trying to know better. Not able to tear away, just staring amazed, and marveling at such a serene gathering. It was too obvious and loud not to have noticed this, such a crowd.

6 minutes Gone

She got to her house and went straight opened the blinds, and she could see the charcoal red hot drying meats, see all the street foods lying in trays steaming hot, saw so many people who she knew didn’t come from far but all lived in this city, she knew to cause in her processing box she had a blur or brief memory of their faces. She sat at the window, looking, listening, and feeling the night until she was exhausted. She got up, closed the window left the blinds up, and watched yet from her bed until she fell asleep to the image of the night.

It was a dream in a wonderland she thought when she woke up that morning, but she was eager to see if truly the night had such a magical moment, like a scene from a movie. And so she walked that 15-minute path again, paying attention to every detail. Got back by 6, and by 7 she opened her windows and she could hear the voice of the city buzzing to life and louder it got as time passed, she sat there listening to all the voices and the hissing of hot groundnut oil, the drying of meat on heat and the chatting of people and so she stayed there every day for days she watched life pass by. Finally, she picked up the courage to get up, dressed in baggy short and polo she went down. And she mixed with the crowd, giving the night an identity, a voice, and a face.

Ashley is her name, and she has forgotten the reason she doesn’t stay out late at night, it's been so long. Now, however, her mom died a few years ago, and there is no one to remind her not to stay out late, will this new obsession unexpected joy and satisfaction last, or would the frenzy be a better option. Will the guy standing in a dark corner staring at her_ and has been all the while she sat at her window_ remind her that the night has two faces, one with light and one really dark one.

Strength… truly we do not uncover half our true potential before the end comes. We do not even know who we are, only a bit of ourselves that we encounter. We only know we have strength when we have to fight, only know bravery when we need to fight and only know cowardice when we face fear. Events shape us and we do not even know until an instance and we wonder how on earth we came to this