54

We were never going to get onto the road. Ade revved, shot forward, and applied the brakes before we knocked into the Mazda in front of us. The driver spread his fingers at us. Ade inched even closer. The car behind the Mazda didn’t look like it would stop for us either. The traffic moved the distance of a car and Ade lurched forward again. The man behind the wheel had no choice but to let us through.

The car beside us was being pushed along by a woman and two young boys. Behind them, three men were pushing a pickup van. A bonnet popped on another car.

‘Overheating,’ Ade said.

‘How far is it to his place?’

‘Not far. Once we get out of this.’

But we were never going to get out of ‘this’. Perhaps I was overreacting. Maybe we would get to his house and she would have a go at me for turning up.

Up ahead in our lane, some men climbed out of a four-by-four. Another group got out of the minivan in front of them and they all began arguing. Someone pushed someone and fists formed and flew. The cars ahead of the fracas began to move but the fight had now drawn a crowd and we were stuck.

Cars began to pull out of the lane. Ade pointed the nose of his car into the traffic coming from behind. I heard the screeching of tyre locked on tar before I saw a body flying across our bonnet: one of the motorcycle taxis had driven into us and the driver was now deposited somewhere on the road ahead.