Shadow man

When I realised it had grown dark, it was already too late for me to leave office for home. It was already 11:51 pm, and I had been very busy even to call home that I would be sleeping at the office that night.
Well, it wasn’t too late to call. At least to let my husband know I was safe and I wouldn’t be coming home that night because of the dangers of rapists and robbers.

Finally, I picked up my cell-phone and punched in my husband’s phone digit.

“grr grr”, the phone rang, but he wasn’t picking up. He must’ve been fast asleep, I thought.
“grr, grr”, I rang again, still no one picked up.
I decided to call the land-line. Perhaps, someone apart from him might pick it, I thought.
I went through my phone-book, and after sweeping through the entire names, I found what I was looking for.
Quickly, I dialled the number. It rang. I waited patiently for someone to accept the call at the other end. It had barely rang the second time when a strong wind blew my office window open.
“Woah,It might soon rain”, I thought. Then I stood up and went to shut my window. Outside, the wind was swaying the trees, strewn leaves flew everywhere, and the moon was already seeking a place to hide in the dark clouds.
Suddenly the light in my office blinked. Thinking it was a call, I quickly rushed over to pick it, but to my surprise, it was just the way I had left it — home mode.

As a last resolution, I decided to switch off the light and sleep on the sofa which served as the visitors’ seat during working hours. There was no use trying to call home anymore. Though it was my home, and no one would be upset even if I rang the phone a million times, still there was the need for people to sleep, and I may be seen as impolite disturbing their sleep.

Having taken that decision, I proceeded to bolt the windows and switch off the flourescent light which was shining lazily on the ceiling. As my hand touched the switch, I felt fear. For some reasons, I thought I saw a dark figure floating behind the window. Then the lights which I had switched off came on. At first, I thought it was my brain misinforming my eyes. Yes, it could be since I had been working all day, but what happened next convinced me otherwise….I heard a gruff voice behind me. I turned around sharply to see who it was, and there staring at me were the pale-white face of a man with dark eyes, reaching out his hand to grab me.

“yeeeeeeaaaahhhhh,”I shouted and without instinct dashed for the door and ran out like an antelope chased by wolves.
“My car keys!” I shreiked. I had left them on my desk and going back to pick them with that shadow-man(that was what I called him since I didn’t know his name. Besides that was what he looked like) inside. Hell no! I won’t risk it! After all, what were my legs made for? I was the fastest sprinter in college, and I don’t think that gift(If I would call it that) had left me even after 3 kids.

As I ran, I could sense the shadow man inching closer, there was this stench when I first felt his presence in my office, and that smell was beginning to ooze out from ‘God knows where’ again.
My stilletos weren’t helping matters. They made me trip too often, and it would be unwise to take them off. I hadn’t such time. I wished help would come from nowhere.
“Pls God help me,” I cried.
Help did come because when I glanced back, the shadow man was nowhere to be seen.
Quickly, I took off my shoes and tore off in lightning speed towards home.

When I got to street was when it began to rain. As I got closer to my house, I began to think: “who would open the gate for me? If I called, who would hear me?” The raging storm pattering on roof created a sound of its own. It was a noise. One which drowned all possible sounds.
Without thinking, I reached into my hand-bag for my phone. Not that I was hoping that someone would hear the phone this time. I was merely wishing someone would.
“grr, grr,” it rang.

“hello,” someone spoke at the other end.
“Holy Christ!!!” I exclaimed. This was too good to be true. God really had a hand in this, I thought.
“Hello,” I spoke frantically into the mouthpiece. Already the rain had drenched me making me shiver slightly. Thunder rumbled, Lightning flashed, but I tried to make my voice as dinstintive as possible.
“Honey, pls I’m outside at the gate. Come and open the gate, pls”
“Are you okay?” the voice at the other end which I sensed to be my husband asked.
“This is no time for questions, honey. Just come and open the gate”
“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he said and the line went dead.

As I waited outside for my husband to come and open the gate, I prayed earnestly,”God pls don’t let that shadow man come back”

Then I saw the beam of a torch approaching the gate. “yes! That was my husband!” I screamed in delight.
“Quick! Quick!” I urged.
Then I heard the slight thud of the lock unbolt and the gate open slowly. Without thinking, I rushed in and quickly bolted the gate and even put a lock on it.
Suddenly, I heard a spontaneous laughter. I turned around sharply to see who was laughing and to my surprise, who did I see standing before me with blood streaming down from it souless eyes? — shadow man!


Acalan: Chapter 1

This is an excerpt from my book. I hope you find it interesting. Enjoy!

Adulio let out a huff when he saw the dark rain clouds.”Not today,”he whined.”The guys and I were going to play soccer.”He was standing outside with his father who was just getting into the car to go to work.
His father slammed the car door and rolled down the window.”You’ll just have to find something to do indoors.”He paused for a second.
“I’ve got it. There’s a new exhibit at the Mexico city museum. Why don’t you check it out?”
“Thanks Dad,”Adulio said enthusiastically. His father shrugged.”Well, I tried,”he said rolling up the window and starting the car.
Adulio watched his father drive off, then went inside and flopped down on a well-worn easy chair.
The newspaper was on the coffee table and Adulio absentmindedly began to flip through it when an article about the mummy, which was Aztec, caught his eye.
A moment later, he was on the phone with his friend Ruiz.
“It sounds really cool,”Adulio said excitedly.”It’s a real mummy at the single fall history museum and get this- the article says that the mummy was some royal person who got into trouble and was cursed.”
Ruiz let out a slight groan.”I don’t know if it’s my phobia for mummies but I feel a bit a sick.”
“Hahaha, cut it off, Ruiz”Adulio snickered.”It’s not something harmful, the mummy has been dead for more than three hundred years.”
“I know,”Ruiz retorted.”I just don’t like the thought of some dry and shriveled once lively creature embalmed with tissue. It gives me the creeps and this one in particular makes me feel sick just by thinking of it. I’m having a migraine,”he said, rubbing his forehead slightly.
“Well, you would have said you wanted to stay indoors the whole day instead of trying to pull off with this chicken move,”Adulio countered.”Why don’t we go see this thing, Ruiz? We would have a lot to tell the guys at school,”he urged.
“Yeah, I would love to see this thing but the thought of mummies gives me the creeps”Ruiz replied
“Then I would suggest you pop some panadols since you’re having a migraine as well,”Adulio mocked.”It might just be what you need.”
At that Ruiz let out a laughter.”Hahaha, you cheeky idiot. Okay, you win! We’re going to see the exhibit.”
Within an hour, Adulio and Ruiz were waiting in the lobby of the museum. Ruiz had also called Quique and Alta to join them and the two were walking up already.
“Holla guys,”said Quique, a lanky boy wearing jeans and a sweat shirt.
“Hola Quique,”Ruiz responded.”Hola Alta,”he called to a young girl pushing her way through the turnstile.
Alta grinned.”So let’s go see this creepy mummy fellow,”she said.”Maybe he’s cute.”
Ruiz shot Alta an angry look and was about to speak.”You’d better…..”but Adulio secretly gave him a slight nudge which caught him in mid sentence.
“You wanted to say something Ruiz?”Alta enquired.
“Uumm, nothing,”he lied.
The museum was made up of five small separate wings. The Aztec wings had scale models of the pyramids, the Azteca warriors’helmet and ancient Aztecan relics. In the middle of the room was the mummy and the children made a beeline for it.
“Wow, cool!”Quique exclaimed leaning over the railings. The sarcophagus was tilted up making it easier for the kids to see the dry shriveled body inside.
“Gross,”said Alta turning away. The mummy was the dark colour of swamp mud. Bits of rotted cloth hung from it and a few wiry tufts of hair seemed plastered to the grinning skull.
“Yep,”Adulio said with a smile.”There he is….in the flesh, so to speak.”
Alta giggled at Adulio’s joke then went over to read the sign on the wall beside the display.”it says here that he was an Azteca prince,”she reported.”it seems he was a nasty character and a lot of people disappeared during his reign. Yuck!”she shrieked in disgust.”He was accused of draining blood from others. It says he thought the life force of his victims would keep him young so he could live forever. When he finally got caught, they killed him by draining all of his blood.”
“Freaky,”Ruiz gazed in awe at the dry corpse.”So much for living forever.”
And then he felt the sickening sensation again and cold chills rip through his spine.
“I don’t know why I feel this way but I’ve been having nightmares lately. It seems as……..”Ruiz had barely finished speaking before Quique yelled at him.”Shut up Ruiz!! Don’t you dare make us all frightened with your silly nightmares.”
“I warned him earlier,”Adulio cut in.”But it seems as if he had made up his mind to be a’nina.'”
“The mummy sure looks lifeless……dead as a doornail,”Adulio said bringing them back to the topic.
Quique widened his eyes.”Maybe not,”he kidded in a deep heavily accented voice.”Perhaps, he is merely sleeping. And when the moon is is full, he will wake and take his revenge,”The others chuckled as Quique drew one arm into his chest; held the other arm out and limped, stiff legged towards Alta.
“Go away,”she laughed and pushed him away.
Adulio stared at the mummy.”Maybe Quique is onto something,”he mused.
Alta shook her head.”Uh_uh. They dug up this fellow nearly a year ago and he hasn’t moved a muscle…..full moon or not.”
“Maybe conditions weren’t right,”Quique said half seriously.”Or maybe he really does get out of his coffin and stalk the city at night. No one can watch him every minute, so there’s no way to know for sure.”
“Yes, there is,”Adulio said enthusiastically.”we could stay over tonight and watch him. Looks like the old fellow could use some company anyhow.”
Quique shook his head.”Nah, my mum expects me home by supper time. Besides, the guards won’t let us stay in here all night.”
“You can call your mum and say you’re spending the night at my house. we can come up with something,”Adulio reasoned.”and those old guards won’t be any problem. We can hide in the bathroom until they lock up. The museum doesn’t even have a night watchman….just an old guard service that drives by every once in a while. I know because my uncle Gonzalo works for the service”
Alta didn’t seem convinced.”I don’t know,”she said hesitantly.”What if we want to get out?”
Adulio grinned.”There’s a window by the delivery entrance. Uncle Gonzalo’s complained that he found it open a couple of times. I’ll just check to make sure it isn’t latched.”
All the while Ruiz stood on the spot praying and wishing the others drop the idea of staying behind.
Finally he spoke.”Well,if Uncle Gonzalo complained that he has found it open a couple of times, then he might be extra-careful in checking the windows this time to make sure they are all latched.”
“Well, he’s not on duty today and since he’s the only one who knows about unlatched windows, they might be carelessly left open by the other guards.”Adulio pressed on hoping to convince the others.
“But the alarm system will go off if we go through the window,”Quique pointed out.
“So what?”Adulio said grinning.”We’ll be long gone by then, I say we do it. C’mon,”he coaxed.”It will be fun!”
Quique and Alta looked at each other and nodded then they were off to call home.
The guard opened the bathroom door and stepped inside for a final check before closing for the night. Standing up on the toilet in the last stall, Adulio held his breath.
Finally the guard let the door swing shut and Adulio let out a big sigh. Ruiz and Quique on either side of him did the same. They waited a few more moments, then Ruiz tiptoed to the door and peered.
“He’s gone,”Ruiz whispered hoarsely. Then all of a sudden he drew back.”somebody’s coming!”
The boys pressed themselves against the wall as the door swung open again.
“Having fun?”Alta asked, peeking around at them.”You guys look pale,”she said laughing.
“Very funny,”Adulio muttered.”Look, it’s getting dark. Maybe we could find some of the guard’s flashlights. I don’t feel like sitting around in here if we can’t see anything.”
“I’ve got a penlight on my key chain,”Quique offered.”We can use it to go through the storage closets.”
After a search through a couple of closets, Quique’s idea paid off, and the four kids now shared two flashlights.
“It sure looks different in here now,”Quique murmured as they made their way to the Azteca wing.”it’s spooky.”
A dim light glowed here and there from various wall displays. It was definitely spooky especially with each one of their footsteps echoing on the ceramic tile floor.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,”Ruiz muttered. Suddenly, Alta’s face froze.”What was that?”She cried out. Ruiz turned his flashlight in the direction of a rustling sound. The beam fell on a huge shimmering face with blood red eyes and sharply pointed teeth.

I ‘MARCHED’ out!

I’m always at loss as to how to begin my posts. Blame it on pre-occupied mind, but before I proceed; I think I owe you an apology or two. You might say an apology is not needed. You might ask “what has the gentle-man done this time?” If you see none of my wrongs, then I’ll assume two thing:
1. You’re the forgivable type and,
2. You simply don’t expect anything from me anymore — you’ve forgotten all about me. 😦
It’s okay, though if the second assumption is true. I hold no grudge.*wipes tears*
Alright, amidst all the apologies, assumptions, sobs,…. I shall give you a recap of what happened last month. Yes! The month of MARCH!!!

Saying I survived last month is an understatement. See, I literally marched out! Not without a few bruises though.(figuratively speaking) hehe

Yours truly went through a lot, amigos.
First it was the issue of unpaid fees(I still have that on my neck, though) then the issue of break-up and make-up(not women’s stuff) and finally came the demise of my father in the world of fiction, ‘Chinua Achebe'(RIP).

I won’t go into any detail involving the first mentioned above because that seems to be my cross to bear.(Hope I escape being crucified)

The second reason mentioned above was the most sensitive of all. I wrote how it all happened, albeit figuratively, but if you need to know what happened; then I’ll suggest that you go through my last two posts.
Now let’s proceed with what happened after the whole episode, shall we?

After our make-up, I mean my Babe and I. We lived happily ever after. What were you expecting? Lol

Then the issue of Chinua Achebe. Hmmmm…I write this part with a tearful eye. You see, I’ve always and will always have the memory of Chinua in mind. He was an exceptional writer, a talented man,…the list is endless. His demise came as a shock to me. And while we still weep, bemoaning what wasn’t our fate, wishing he were still alive, let us take time to eulogise him, his achievements, his works, what he stood for.
Achebe was born 82 years ago in one of the eatern states in Nigeria. According to his kinsmen, Achebe has always shown interest in story-telling and it was no surprise to everyone when he wrote his first book “things fall apart” at the age of 27. The book was a classic! I recall in one of the interviews which he granted. He was asked what inspired the book. Achebe in his humble manner replied, “every generation have a story to tell. This is my story”. Wow! What a simple reason, yet so inspiring! Yes! Inspiring because it has made me pick up my pen to tell the story of my own generation. Indeed, Achebe was and will remain an inspiration to many.

On another note, I shall post excerpts of every chapter of my book. Don’t ask me the title; I always have problems coming up with that one myself.

To be continued…

Toast to bleeding hearts.

As I sit here reminiscing,
hoping that time would steal this feelings,
asking questions with only silence responding,
And the winds conveying my distant calls to nothing.

I say to myself, “I shouldn’t have said that”
But my tongue has its own mind, it acted before I blinked.
Now I’m left trying to quench the flame of guilt,
Which seems to be burning down my innocence.

Funny how we were once best friends, then best lovers.
Moving steadily without blames for each other,
Erasing mistakes, leaving no room for blunders,
Till we spoke words we now wish to clutch back. 

Love:Ugly beauty

How do I begin? I know I’ve been away for too long on here, but trust me, I have a reason. I just hope I’m not crucified before I get my excuse into your craniums.
Forgive me, I’ve not been in hiding, I’ve been through a lot lately and believe when I say I’m sad. Yes, I mean it.

Okay. With my charisma, charm and dedication to anything I do, you would expect everything about me to be trouble-free, am I right? Yes, in a way, but it’s not always the case.
I’m writing this with a heavy heart. Reason? I broke off a two year relationship! Some of you might snicker and ask, “two years is a small thing, why cry?” But I tell you, two years is not a little thing in my own case not when you put all your time, effort and heart to it. Two years is not a little thing when you share your secret and all you had with your partner. Two years is not little when you’ve built a good rapport with your partner, she understands you and you understand her.

I’ve seen people tell me not to cry over it, but as always, it is easier said than done. You should walk in my shoes to understand what I feel.
They tell me, “you were never meant to be” but that’s a lie! We had everything going for us, but what made us crumble apart? I don’t know. I guess we had something troubling our hearts. And we should’ve settled it amicably. I mean talk about what was troubling us but we didn’t. I must admit, she was willing to tell me hers, but I was unwilling to tell her mine. Why? Because I felt she might begin to worry about me and I didn’t want that…smh

Love is a beautiful thing. Yes. No one can convince me to have a different opinion about it. It’s a beautiful thing, but like all good things, Love also has its ugliness. Call it a rose with thorns, a diamond with its hardness, a sea with its occasional storms…the list is endless.

If I tell you I don’t miss her(I won’t mention her names), believe it to be a lie. I do miss her. Isn’t it painful that when I try to think, images of her come flashing in my mind. I miss everything about her. The sound of her laugh when we talk on phone, the childish look in her eyes, her caress,…I miss everything.

I sit here all by myself reminiscing how I let all we shared, our ambitions and dreams slip away. It hurts. I’m not going to give up on her, though. I just hope she leaves her heart open to me when I come back. Don’t think I’m being selfish.
I know life has many different chapters for us, and one bad chapter doesn’t mean the end of the book. I know things will be better.
Right now, rather than think of the academic tests which I’m going to take begining from next week, I think of what was and will always remain dear to me.


All for the six pacs. #2

If you’ve been following my posts; you will recall that I wrote about how as a result of the heightened state of insecurity all over the world, I went to register at a fitness centre(gym). Need I remind you? I’m pretty sure I needn’t, and I’m glad to know that your memory isn’t as ‘fogged’ as mine has been lately. (That is if you did realise

Well, we should continue with the gist, shouldn’t we? Fine.

After Harry and I had gone our separate ways; I walked briskly and rounded a corner towards a street which led to the gym.
Finally, I arrived at the gym, and waited outside. From its outlook, the building was new.  Its blue coloured paint shone brightly, reflecting the rays of the morning sun.
On an advert board beside the gate was the image of a muscular man, his bulging muscles seem to have a mind of their own as they were bent on ripping the singlet he had on. A caption beside the image read: “MR MUSCLES GYM AND FITNESS CENTRE.

Whoever suggested this design did a very good job because in truth, the design coupled with the caption even lured me more.

In eagerness to see what the inside of the gym was like, I rapped three sharp knocks on the steel gate and waited…no answer. I rapped another three knocks on the gate, this time harder than the first. Still, no answer. I was about to strike the gate the third time when a man with bulging biceps and big chest opened the gate. He frowned when he saw me.
From the way he was staring at me, I was sure he was thinking whether to let me in or shove me away.

“Good morning, Sir,” I greeted. You see, I didn’t greet him for nothing. I could see his growing irritation at seeing me, and it was only a matter of time before he would send me away, and I didn’t want that, hence the greeting.
“Good morning, boy,” he responded jovially.(It was apparent that my trick worked, didn’t it?) “What do you want?”

“I’ve come to register,” I replied.
“You’ve come to do what?” he asked mockingly. Then burst into a hysterical laughter. “Do you think we use baby-sized weights and equipment here? Pls leave.”

“No, please,” I pleaded. “I’m quite strong. See,”I said, and started rolling up my sleeves to show him my toned muscles.

“hahaha. Boy, close that thing. They are too tiny,” he mocked.

Immediately the man made that remark, I lost my cool, clenched my fist and gave him a heavy blow on his right eye.

“How dare you insult me?” I barked. “Do you know who I am? Don’t you know how beauty queens fall over their heads just to feel my abs? Nonsense!!!”

I wasn’t surprised when the man took off swiftly. To be honest, no one receives my punch and live to tell the tale. To say he was lucky not to have collapse is an understatement…

Long story short. I made my way into the gym, paid my fee and proceeded to try out some weights.
In the main hall of the gym, I see a couple of barbells,select the heaviest and flex my muscles in preparation for the great lift.

I had only lifted it three times when I felt a muscle pull.
What happened next; I don’t know because the next place I found myself was in my room, surrounded by my friends all looking gloomy.

“Una no go church today?(Didn’t you guys go to church today?)” I asked thinking that day was a sunday.
What my friends did next baffled me as the look on their faces changed from one of gloominess to ‘clownish’ grins. Then they opened their mouth in a spontaneous laughter.

“Why are you guys laughing now?” I queried.
“Look, Christian,” they chorused in unison. “You have been unconscious for three days. Today is tuesday!”


All for the six pacs

With the rate of insecurity in the world, you would call my decision a wise one when I decided to register at a gym.
Having taken this decision after much thought during the week, I decided to visit the gym on a weekend when I knew I’d be chanced, and since I knew most gyms do not open on sundays, and friday, when the weekend begins might not be comfortable for me since I would’ve been exhausted from the week’s work, I decided to fix my visit to the gym on a saturday.
On the saturday morning, I was awoken by the ‘noise’ of one of these ‘innumerable’ preacher’s call in the street.
“Jesus loves you,” he bellowed. “Repent of your sins, my brothers and sister. The end is near.”
“eeeewww!! Another money making venture,” I muttered under my breath, then lazily got of bed, brushed, then had a mug of coffee.
I packed a few things which I knew I would need, then picked up my mp3 and tucked the earphones in my ears. I searched through my music library apparently looking for my rap playlist. Within moment, I found what I was looking for: ‘Tupac’s thug mansion’.

As the music blasted through my ears, I felt like a tough guy. “if I am to be able to lift those weights, then being in the right frame of mind should be considered a top priority,” I thought.

As I sauntered out of the house, and dashed across the road to the next street, a voice which I knew so well shouted from a distance.”Prof! Prof!”
I turned round, and jogging up to catch up on me was my friend, ‘Harry’.
(Need I tell you that I removed the earphones from my ears before responding to Harry?)
“Don papa!” I hailed. “How you dey?(How are you?)”
“I dey mehn(I’m fine mehn)” He responded. “Where you come dey go this wan wey you carry bag this early mor-mor?”(Where are you going to with a bag this early morning?)

At that question, my mind went into a conflict. I was undecided whether to tell him about my mission or not. Harry has always admired my slim ‘v-shaped’ figure(I needn’t open my shirt to show my body just to prove that. On another note…no, and it would puzzle him if I told him that I was going to the gym. He would simply discourage me.
“For wetin?(for what?)” I envisaged him asking, but since I had very little time to come up with a perfect lie, I decided to open up.

“I dey go gym, my guy(I’m going to the gym, dude),”I answered.
Just as I had predicted, Harry’s face wore a puzzled look.
“For wetin? You no like yourself as you be?(for what? Aren’t you satisfied with the way you look?)”He queried.
“Abeg, Don papa. I just wan stretch my bones, dem don weak die(Please, Don papa. I just want to exercise my joints a bit, they’ve become so weak),” I responded with a voice filled with unseriousness obviously to to ease pressure which Harry seemed to have caused.
My trick seemed to work as Harry’s facial expression changed from that of seriousness to a broad smile.
“I for say ooo(I could’ve said),” he sighed. “Me I wan jog reach that junction wey dey for there, and I fit branch come meet you for the gym if you never commot before I come back(I want to jog up to that junction over there, and I might come over to meet you if you haven’t gone before I come)”.
“No wahala, my guy. Later mehn(No problem, dude. Till then, mehn),” I responded, then we shook hands.

“Prof! Proff!” He hailed.
“Don papa!” I responded, then we went our separate ways and I tucked my earphones into their usual place of dwelling: my ears of course.

As If my mp3 knew I needed more encouragement, It embraced my ears like a long lost lover with ‘Tupac’s california love.
This mp3 understands me mehn.

To be continued…

Between Damoche and I (part 2)

You’re right if you say I shouldn’t pen anything in my foul state of mind. Yes, I’m angry, disgusted, baffled and irritated.
Right now, the proper way to begin eludes me because my mind is totally blank of a proper or decent language. Blame it on what I found lately. I should never have involved myself with story of that guy’s demise. Yes, I mean Damoche. Did I hear somebody snicker ‘so you’re familiar with the name now?’ Yes, I am. I’m not going to feign ignorance this time. (sincerely, I didn’t feign the last one either)Now, I’m feeling like someone in the know, and that ebony bros would be so proud of me now…hehehe.
Hmmm, It seems I’m starting to feel better about this whole thing with me flashing my teeth in a smile. Still, that shouldn’t make me forget what brought us here,should It? People say ‘shut up and proceed, Christian. Enough of this unseriousness’, but I say that’s ‘rude’.
I’ll take no offence, though just to prove myself a perfect gentleman which of course I am.
Hmmhmm*clears throat*Now, to what brought us here. How do I begin? Okay,
I went out for a walk this morning, hands buried in pocket, earphones in ears and mind set on one thing: to get a loaf of bread and a jar of mayonnaise for breakfast. I hadn’t walked a few metres when I noticed a small crowd gathered around something. At first, I thought it to be an accident scene(of course I don’t wish for one) but a closer look convinced me that it was the newspaper stand. Holychrist. I had even forgotten that a news stand was situated on that spot. Indeed, my two months indoors did more harm to me than good,and If I continue this way, then there’s a possibility that I wouldn’t reject the use of a map to help me find my way around my own neighbourhood! Smh
Well, I went over to the news stand and feasted my eyes on the different magazines. ‘Discover the secrets to a beautiful skin’ a caption read. ‘Nonsense!’ I uttered in disgust since they made no sense to me. I moved to the sports section and immediately removed my ear phones from my ears for just one reason: to enable me hear the rubbish the sport fanatics at the stand would say about my own Lebron James. Let them tell me he’s not the best basketball player in the world now,I swear, they will surely get an earful. I waited patiently for the first person who would take a swipe at my favourite football club, ‘Chelsea fc of England’. There was none. Suddenly, the murmurings of one thickset man caught my ears. I couldn’t make out his first sentence but the next one he said hit my ‘pinnae’ accurately, then went straight to my middle ear and ‘bang’ on my ear drum.
I shook my head in disgust in reaction to what the man had revealed, but on a second thought, I said, ‘this man could’ve exaggerated with what he saw just to spice it up. I’d better get a look myself, afterall, there’s no harm in it.’

I didn’t need to strain my neck to get a better view because on the front page of ‘The sun’ newspaper were the words boldly written: POLICE NABS THIEF WHO STOLE DAMOCHE’S WATCH.
Initially I thought this thief stole from Damoche when he was alive() but on reading the full story I discovered to my dismay that the thief took off Damoche’s wrist-watch few moments after he was killed.
Oh my goodness! Do people now loot the dead? This question begs answers.
Though I don’t possess the power of clairvoyance but with such a thing happening, I mean the dead being looted. It only convinced me of one thing: that people in desperation will begin to go as far as exhuming corpse and stealing the coffins to sell at retail price.
Yes, It might become that terrible if we forget to state in our individual ‘wills’ that our graves be fastened down with huge chains and irons.
Who can tell me what could’ve prompted such action? Did I hear someone say ‘Poverty?’ It’s quite pathetic, though.
Now I’m sad again…*crying*

Between Damoche and I

I’ve had to ‘suffer’ in silence as some ‘Damoche’s’ followers or let me put it in plainer terms, ‘hypocrites’ update countless statii to express their sympathy over someone who was never popular, familiar or if I would put it in a more technical term ‘influential’ to them.

Now, i put the word ‘suffer’ in quotes because ever since news of his (Damoche) death, I’ve been rendered partially deaf due to the sympathetic term most common to Nigerians as ‘eeyah’ and also made blind as a result of the numerous ‘R.I.P’ statii which flooded my facebook newsfeed.

My allegations might raise a few questions since the eeyahs were not directed at me for I’m in no way related to this Damoche, and you might begin to wonder how news of his death reached me and how the said eeyah which I claim rendered me partially handicapped affected me.

It goes thus:

It happened one cool evening and I had gone to the salon to have my hair cut. I sat beside this ebony wild looking bros(his appearance spoke volumes)when all of a sudden he screamed, ‘yeeh!!!’

Alarmed at what made him scream and also in response to the curious impulse which had also built up inside me. I peered into what could supposedly have cause his screaming and there on the screen of his blackberry phone was the battered image of a young who at a guess could’ve been between the ages of 23 and 25. Thinking the battered man to be someone who was close to the bros because of the way he screamed, I rendered the trademark ‘eeyah, sorry bros.’

My comment seems to baffle the bros who regarded me with a look like he was staring at an alien.

‘you no know Damoche?’ he asked in his heavily accented pidgin.

‘Holy Christ!’ I exclaimed apparently in shock as well since I also knew one Damoche. ‘Damoche? That guy wey dey live for that green house for the next street, wey sabi dance well well. so na him dem use bullet scatter him brain so? eeyah’

‘which kain yeye house you dey talk sef? he asked. This time his voice was filled with irritation at my ignorance. You no know the Damoche wey sing one song like that…’ Then he began reeling out lyrics of the song apparently to jerk up my already paralyzed memory.

Well, to prevent him from singing further (because honestly, his voice only deafened me more) I pretended like I had recollected ‘his Damoche.’

Now, the naked fact is that, just like myself, there are many others who aren’t even familiar with the musician ‘Damoche’ but who have generously rendered their pathetic eeyahs and so many other terms to express their sympathy like ‘R.I.P Bro, we will miss you’, ‘I can’t believe you’re gone’ blablabla….

Of course the demise of any soul hurts me, but the guy wasn’t that popular. Don’t get me wrong, he isn’t the one I’m against. It is his hypocritical sympathisers who are trying to claim familiarity with someone whose music they never had on their playlist,let alone dance to when he was alive.

The demise of that guy hurts, though and like others, I can’t help but also render my ‘eeyah, R.I.P, bro’ and may your killers face the same fate which befell you.