Lola left the house with the hope of never to return. Her mind was made up: She would run into a heavy-duty truck and she had already pictured how the four tires of the truck would crush her bones and her blood would stain the tarred express road in Oshodi, and how her brain would pop out from her skull, and how her intestines and other inner organs would litter the highway. But what gave her joy the most about her beautiful concept of dying was the sympathy she would attract from people in Oshodi, the cries from unknown women and the high possibility of making headlines the following day in major newspapers. She carefully picked Oshodi out of many options as the best place to die.
Initially, the idea of jumping into the water from the third mainland bridge occupied her thought for several days, but she waved it off because many people would not witness her death, talk less of sympathizing with her.
Hanging herself in the house or anywhere in her perpetually desolated estate was not even an option. She wanted her death to be a spectacle and that had always been her dream, thus, Oshodi became her ideal cemetery and she settled for it.
Before leaving the house, she turned on the gas burner and put on it a fry pan filled with vegetable oil. She switched on all her electronics and set them to work at their full capacity. She lighted 36 candles and placed them on her mattress where there were clusters of clothes.
After that, she locked the door, shut her eyes and threw away the key, then she headed to the bus stop to join a bus going to Oshodi.
On getting to the bus stop, she remembered she had not taken her wallet and there was no money on her. She was furious and hated herself more for not following her plan in toto. She decided to go back to take her wallet. She was bent on fulfilling her dream of dying in Oshodi, the center of the world.
As Lola crossed the road that led to her perpetually quiet estate, a speeding firefighter truck ran over her, crushing her bones and popping her brain on the road. There was no one to witness her death except the two firemen.
The firemen packed her dismembered body into a polythene bag and flushed her brain particles and blood off the road into the drainage, leaving no trace, before heading to put out the fire that was ravaging “a building belonging to a 36 years old woman suffering from depression.”