The afternoon sun beat down on the dusty streets of Anugu as passengers squeezed tightly inside a rickety old bus. It was the kind of bus everyone used when they had no choice. Noisy, hot, and always packed with people heading in different directions. Vendors shouted at the roadside, children cried, and the driver kept honking impatiently.

Inside the bus, people were already sweating, clutching their bags and belongings closely. Among the passengers sat Chinaza, a young woman in her early 20s. She was restless, tapping her foot and glancing around as though searching for something to distract her. Life had been hard for her lately, and she often looked for shortcuts to get by.

On this particular day, her eyes were sharp, not just for the road ahead, but for opportunities others might miss. Moments later, the bus came to a halt, and an old woman climbed in slowly. Her back was slightly bent and her face looked weary from age and exhaustion. The passengers shifted grudgingly to make space for her.

She lowered herself gently onto the seat right in front of Chinaza, let out a tired sigh, and before long, her head drooped asleep overcame her. Chinaza’s eyes immediately fell on the woman’s handbag, resting carelessly by her side. The bus rocked slightly as it moved, but the old woman did not stir. A thought crept into Chinaza’s mind. bold, daring, and dangerous. Her heart raced as she whispered to herself. She looked so tired she won’t even notice.

With a swift glance around to ensure no one was watching, Chinaza carefully slid her hand forward. The noise of the bus helped to cover the soft sound of the zipper as she opened the bag. Her fingers trembled slightly, but determination pushed her on. Within seconds, she pulled out a small purse and hid it inside her own bag.

Her pulse quickened and her face grew hot. She sat stiffly pretending nothing had happened. But deep inside, fear and excitement clashed in her chest. Would someone notice? Would the old woman wake up? As the bus reached the next stop, Chinaza could no longer bear the tension.

She quickly tapped the side of the bus, signaling for the driver to stop. jumping down before the vehicle even came to a full halt. She walked briskly, almost running, her eyes darting left and right. When she finally reached home, she shut the door behind her and leaned on it, breathing heavily. The purse was still in her hands. A smile crept across her face. For a brief moment, guilt pricked her heart, but she shook it off quickly.

“She will be fine,” Chinaza muttered. “It’s just a purse.” With eager hands, she opened it, expecting to see plenty of money, or at least something valuable. To her disappointment, there were only a few crumpled Naira notes inside. She frowned, counting the money quickly. It wasn’t much at all, barely enough to buy food for a day or two. But something else caught her attention.

Nestled inside the purse was a stylish pair of sunglasses. They gleamed faintly as the light from the window struck them. Curious, Chinaza picked them up and turned them in her hands. The frame was strong, the glass clean, and they looked far more expensive than anything she owned. Smiling, she hurried to the mirror. She slid the sunglasses onto her face and tilted her head proudly.

“Hm,” she exclaimed, admiring her reflection. For the first time that day, she felt rich, beautiful, and powerful. She turned this way and that, enjoying the way the glasses fit perfectly, as though they had been waiting just for her. Suddenly, a shadow flickered in the corner of her eye.

Startled, she turned around quickly, but there was nothing there. She shook her head, laughing nervously. “I must be imagining things,” she whispered, removing the glasses and setting them aside. Just then, her younger sister, Amaka, walked into the room. Dressed in her simple church clothes, she looked at Chinaza with a gentle smile. Chinaza, will you come with me to church this evening? Amaka asked softly.

But Chinaza waved her hand dismissively. I’m too tired. Maybe another time, she lied. She didn’t want her sister to suspect anything or ask questions. Amaka nodded, though she looked a little disappointed. All right, then. Rest well. She turned and left the room. Alone again, Chinaza quickly picked up the stolen purse and shoved it into a plastic bag.

Her heart beat faster as though someone might suddenly appear to accuse her. She carried the bag outside and dumped it in the trash can, making sure it was buried deep beneath other rubbish. Back in her room, she sat on her bed, staring at the sunglasses. A faint uneasiness tugged at her heart, but she forced herself to ignore it. She was used to stealing and nothing bad had ever happened before.

Tired from the day’s excitement, Chinaza stretched out on her bed. As her eyes grew heavy, she smiled one last time at her reflection in the mirror. With the sunglasses gleaming quietly on the table beside her, she drifted into sleep. Unaware that her reckless act had opened the door to something far darker than she could ever imagine.