It was roughly ten minutes past four, early in the morning and still dark, when I woke up to someone touching my feet.
I know it may feel weird when you are having a crazy dream about falling from the top of a treehouse, and when it seems you are about to land and crash on the ground, you suddenly realize you are on your bed with an intruder romancing your feet. That is how I felt when my cold feet came in contact with foreign hands. I groaned and mumbled to myself, half asleep.
"Perer!" I jerked fully alert at the sound of the treacherous voice above me. It was my sister.
"Christle!" I said in surprise, aware that she had arrived from a night party.
In case you are thinking about her name and feel it is odd and awkward, you are not alone in your silent quest. I feel the same way too. Sometimes, I try to accept a very funny idea I brought up which I think is true. It has something to do with her naming ceremony. I think my parents were probably excited that after all the years of cuddling and spilling bodily fluids all around their large bed, the moments of agony and despair, God eventually answered their pleas and gave them my sister. So in appreciation, they thought of a way to give her back to him.
I know you may be thinking about dedicating Christle to God or confining her in a nunnery for the rest of her life. No! My parents had other ideas and the best way they felt to give back to God was to name her after his son, Christ. And my Mum was of the opinion she should be like him — Christlike! I can imagine my Dad looking at her face, shaking his head and finally rejecting the idea. In the end, they came up with Christle. But those are just my thoughts. The truth may be different. You never can tell.
"Yes, it is your big sister, the one who likes to do wild things," Christle said and smiled in a way that showed only her upper teeth.
I pushed her aside and raised the bedsheets close to my face.
"Are you trying to drive me away from your room?" she asked.
"If I could, I would. You are a pain in the ass," I said.
She looked at me delightedly.
"You are not going to greet me? So you are not interested in asking me how my lectures are going at the university?" Christle smiled again.
"What do you want from me? Can't you see I am all messed up and trying to get my brain to rest?"
Now, you would think she probably might say, "Ok, I am sorry for disturbing you. You can go to bed." Christle was not like that. She was full of life and could dance all day to the sound of one particular song. Now, she is a terror, and every form of torture - no matter how small - gives her a sense of excitement that I really can’t explain because she is abnormal.
"I need some money," Christle said. "The allowance that Mum gave me has finished."
I tried to sit up but she placed her elbow on my knees. I stopped trying.
"I don't have any money if that is why you are here," I said like a child who wanted to go in the rain and play with his peers.
"Can't you get some money for me? Even if it is a few change. I really need the money to survive on the school campus," Christle lowered her head.
"Sorry, does Mum or Dad know you are here?"
I was about to complete my sentence when Christle dragged me closer to her body and hugged me.
Christle was prettier. I could see it. The red lip gloss applied on her lips made them look shinny in the dark. Even the tiny dark spot on her face could not hide her beauty. She was my big sister and the only queen that I knew.
"They don't know I am here," Christle said.
"How did you get in my room?" I asked.
"Through there."
I murmured as I saw the open window. For chrissake, I thought there comes a time in a girl's life when she starts to know the difference between guys stuffs and girls stuffs. Entering through a window was a guy stuff and there is no exception no matter who you are. In the movies, you don't see a girl sneaking into a guy's room for hedonistic reasons. Rather it is the direct opposite. Guys use the windows not girls.
"Are you not going to get ready for school?" Christle asked, stretching on the bed.
"If you were interested in my life, you would know that school doesn't start for another three weeks."
"Are you going to blame me now for not storing your school records inside my little brain?"
"You have never really been serious since I have known you."
"That is right," Christle agreed.
"How much do you need?" I asked my big sister, reaching out for my trousers. "You know I don't have much."
"A thousand naira will be enough till our parents decides to respect me by sending my weekly allowance."
"Manage this," I said to Christle, giving her the Nigerian note with two great men faces on it.
"Hey, little brother! Sorry for coming in this manner. I will make it up to you when I visit this weekend. I promise," Christle smiled delightedly and threw a kiss in my direction.
I snorted noisily. "See you this weekend."
Well, after spending the last three days watching TV and reading short stories about kids who had lost their way home, I was really excited that I would finally be doing something I have always had in mind for a while — going to the park.The problem with making yourself believe in someone is that you never give yourself the opportunity to consider the other options available in the table. What if they let me down? What if they don't show up when I need them? What if I don't get the chance to make my dream come into reality and have some fun?You don't consider all the questions I mentioned above because your mind has been programmed to accept the fact that your desires will come to pass and nothing else. I think there is a term for that condition, but I don't know what it is anyway and I am not in the mood to think about it.Today, I just sat on the couch, in our not too large sitting room. My Dad's phone was close by — a few cen
I have been grounded for three days now. Dad made me to wash his car three times today without showing me any compensation by dropping a few wad of notes in my palm. I guess it is my punishment for assuming my sister was the female caller and deciding to take adult matters into my own hands.A lot of people say that curiosity always kills the cat. I don't know if it is true or not. All I know is that I was a curious person who wasn't a cat or a cat lover. Actually, I hate cats. Those creatures never seem to understand when they need to be in their own personal space. Yesterday, when I went to the public dump site to empty some trash, I saw a cat searching for something in a black sack. Whatever it was looking for was none of my business. I was only concerned about its bright eyes that kept on staring at me in the dark. Why can't it just take what it wants and leave me alone?It took moments of bravery and self motivation before I got the confidence to actually look thr
Mum was feeling sick today but luckily she got well after taking some tablets of paracetamol. Initially, I was planning on cancelling my plans with Dad's ex-girlfriend but the thoughts of actually getting to know what she and Dad did couldn't leave my head.Yesterday, after Dad woke me up to wash his car, I mistakenly came across some crumpled papers in the passenger's seat. Believe me, I saw some weird stuffs about jumping down a bridge or digging up a grave. I don't know what Dad was doing with those kind of stuffs in his car but what got my attention was an address written on a piece of old office papers. It was the same address that Sarah gave to me. Whether Dad was cheating on Mom with Sarah, I was going to find out soon.Sarah called my Mum's phone back after I called her and told her to call me in ten minutes time. Her voice was as lively as before. Full of a lot of expectations."Hello!" I said."Hi! What are you doing today?" Sarah asked as if sh
Today, as I came out of the bathroom and ate my breakfast of hot tea and bread, Mum sat on the couch watching an early morning diet show on the TV. I can't remember the name of the show but I know it has something to do with eating fruits everyday. Maybe it is called: Eating fruits with Damian John. If you are wondering why I came up with that name, it is obvious that the lead presenter of the show was Damian John!Today was like any other morning— boring, almost as if the big heavenly beings in the sky were hearing my cries everyday and making it worst. The time I spent with Sarah didn't change anything. All I could gather was that Dad was still keeping in touch with her even though he had angrily sent her out of our home in the name of preserving his name in front of me. Well, as far as I knew now, I can't say if he is cheating on Mum. I will have to fix another meeting with her before the end of this week if I were to figure out that."Perer," Mum called me an
My big sister came today with a lot of smiles in her face and a big demand for money. You are free to call her Christle.Anyway, I am starting to wonder if I should get mad at her for holding my money for too long or ask Clag's parents for their son's whereabouts. It is almost a week now and Clag was yet to return my soccer boots.The other day, after I was done exercising in the morning, I saw Clag's Mum trying to cut the short grasses in their front yard and after moments of desperately trying to get her attention, she only waved a hand at me and went inside. Damn!This morning, while I was waiting for my big sister to be done with the bathroom, I remembered she was fond of keeping money in her purse and I was so tempted to find her purse and open it.I will have to thank someone later for ensuring I did not yield to my temptations because my big sister was about leaving the bathroom when I was conside
I hate school! I hate school as much as I hate playing basketball in the rain!I knew what to expect from my first day at school. The bullies, the almost filled school bus with teens around my age talking about their wonderful holidays and the teacher who cared about me. But things were about to change sooner than I thought. It was as if a divine order had been placed in my life and no matter what I tried to do, I can't erase it. Escaping my fate was worse than running away from a drone that has been designed to kill me.I sat down in the only empty seat in my class, which was right in front of my neighbour's son, Clag. After asking a few persons some questions, I discovered that Clag had been promoted to our class. I didn't understand that at first until Clag told me how he had a 95% average last term and the school authority felt it was best he skipped the class he was about to enter and join our final year cl
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My parents got separated and I was forced to move into my Uncle's house. Uncle Max lives in a different state in Nigeria, close to the state that I used to live in. My journey to Uncle Max’ house was smooth and within a couple of days, I was settled.It was late in the night and the sun had faded away to give the moon an opportunity to shine in the sky when Uncle Max came to my room and woke me up. He was a fair man who was in his early forties. He was single and was yet to start making up any plans for marriage."You need to get ready for school, tomorrow," Uncle Max said, stretching his arms. "I have already found a new school that can fit a person of your standard." He looked round the room at the carelessly flung bags, books and shorts over the chair."What of my elder sister and junior brother? Are they not coming to Enugu?" I asked, grinning."No! They are not coming to Enugu," Uncle Ma