After series of meetings between my mother and brothers, they agreed the only place that suits me is an environment of God. Maybe somewhere spiritual enough to chase off the demons of badluck leading me to constant misfortune. It wasn't like they loved or wanted good out of me, they were actually scared they would be the next victims of my escapades and it was really dangerous living with them. I had two options, either to go to the only catholic convent in Shagbo or convert, become a Muslim and live with the cleric in the mosque a stone throw to my house. I didn’t embrace the conversion idea, going to the convent wasn’t an idea I really loved either. Now I go dey live with dem reverend father, catholic priests and nuns in a very weird lifestyle. Most importantly I would miss my home, my beautiful mother and my fun-to-be-with brothers but, e be things!
I really didn’t like it at the convent, most especially my first day there. They did receive me in warm arms. I saw many other teenagers like me. " These guys must also be trouble-makers and thorn in the flesh to their parents.” The convent was seen as a correctional facility by the illiterate parents of Shagbo. It also had a boarding school meant for formal education. Movement out of the convent was restricted till visiting hours which was only 12pm-5pm on Saturdays. Stuff like phones, game sets, gadgets or even certain books (If not religious-inclined or educational) was seen as contraband. This would be seized by the sisters. Cash wasn’t allowed. Life was hell for the first two weeks cos I had to be adjusting to an entirely new system. I cried most nights. I really missed my home. It even got to a point mama stopped visiting me but I moved on with my life. Gradually, life started becoming interesting>>>>>>
I met Chukuebuka. It was one afternoon after the rigorous choir sessions. It was lunch time. I rushed to the dining hall happily cos I greeted this Sandra girl I always had my eyes on”Hi” and she replied me “Hello darling” This sent shiver down my spine. My joy knew no bounds. That was a perfect shot already but I was a ‘wowo’ boy(low classed). I sucked at conversations so I couldn’t maintain it . Nevertheless, the joy I got from the response was enough. I was bumping and bouncing my way to the dining hall till I mistakenly ran into Chukwuebuka who was carrying plates of hot beans in a tray. The beans fell over and the plates shattered on the floor. As fast as possible, he landed me a thunderous slap. My eyes blinked as if they lost connection to my brain. I started seeing twinkle little stars like I was in a trance. It took a few minutes before I gained consciousness. I lost appetite already. I didn’t even see the person that slapped me again. In tears, I headed towards the lobby. I sobbed over my mattress and soaked my pillow with tears. I was just thinking of how unfortunate I was. Even papa’s slaps when he was alive never hammered me like that. “Ha! Life no fair,this life no balance!”
I suddenly felt an arm on my shoulder. “I am sorry”. I looked back and saw the remorseful face of the person that slapped me at the dining hall.”You’ll need some money to take care of the sore on your face”. He dropped some N200 notes on my bed. “ Omo see money” I thought. The sight of the money dried up my tears immediately. I didn’t need anyone to tell me “Apology accepted”. A smile sneaked from my face out of my undue excitement. “Bro, it’s okay”. I took a deep breath. He stretched out his hand for a handshake. “We cool bruh?”. “We cool” I replied. That was how I got to meet Ebuka. He was a cool guy with a Londoner accent. He came from a well-to-do ‘tush’ family and not a low-classed boy like me. The scent of his cologne lasan don do. Everything about his appearance was just fresh. I started to wonder what someone like him was doing at the convent. He later told me everything. He was a drug freak! He told me he had popped almost all kinds of hard drugs in the world. His parents were rich so that wasn’t a problem. Aside drugs, he had spiritual issues. He could suddenly start behaving weird as if he was under the influence of a demon. He shared many confidential things with me. There were times he would just suddenly start hitting his head on the wall. A time, he striped himself naked in school and started running about the premises. The shame and embarrassment from this incident stopped him from going to school. He was sometimes chained down with shackles both on the hands and feet by his parents but guess what? He broke the chains with his teeth. After the whole show and demonic influence, he showed a whole lot of sobriety, calmness and guilt written all over him. It was the night he attempted suicide he was brought to the convent. I remembered I had also once attempted suicide.
The demon had already taken over. This time, he wanted to take his life. He already tied the rope on the fan in the master bedroom, already tying up his neck in anger when his mother came in. It was very difficult resisting him till they called the reverend father. After a whole lot of spiritual battle, they were able to restore him back to calmness. Afterwards, the reverend father requested that he should come stay at the convent for a close spiritual monitoring. His parents agreed joyfully. What did you expect; they were rich busy parents who had little time for the poor boy. They promised to make everything needed available and also maintain a close watch.
“So that was how you got here”? I asked him.”Yes” he nodded affirmatively. “Would you share with me how you got here too”? “That’s a story for another day, its late already. Let’s go for the evening prayers” that was how my friendship with Ebube started.
“Iron sharpeneth iron so a man sharpeneth his friend’s countenance” , but I was daft. Why on earth would I be in a friendship where we both had our individual problems? Not ordinary problems, issues!!!The most Reverend father of the diocese had a public image of being the holiest man on earth. He was worshiped and his feet were kissed daily. He was regarded as the son of God by the gullible people of Shagbo. After Sunday service, people queued in front of the parish office. One by one, they entered to meet ‘HIS MOST HIGH’ to confess their sins. ‘Father forgive me’ they took turns to say this statement. I obviously had no choice but to join the ‘geng’. That expanded my capacity to engage in sinful activities, since I could just go to the parish office every Sunday and be forgiven. Even in my sins, I still had good morals and virtues. I learnt a lot from mama and I heard her imaginary voice cautioning me whenever I wanted t
It shone bright in the hot afternoon at Shagbo and its environs. The hot winds of the harmattan made sure it dried up mucus or any form of lubrication from every nostril, leaving it dried up. This made the owner wear a frowny look. How about the intensity of its sunshine? It struck every head. The ‘head owner’ must either find a shade or be ready to groan in the agony of migraines or frequent headaches.The nights were cold as anything else. Touch the great Shagbo River at night, it’s warm. Warm enough to prepare hot tea in the cold nights. Land and sea breeze was a recognized practical example of convection currents in nature.The five-boy band was seen at their usual hideout; the bush. It was surrounded with large chumps of rocks, scattered trees and little shrubs. This was the cool atmosphere they considered as a place that helps them get inspiration during rehearsals. They were very popular and cos of it
I was told the Vicar was terribly sick of a cardiovascular disease the doctor called Myocardial Infarction (Heart attack). He had been rushed to the state hospital some days ago. We both decided to go pay Vicar a visit on his sick bed. Sandra and I had become close friends. Oh, you thought I didn't tell her about my clowny misfortunes? I did! You wouldn't believe it, after telling her, her love for me doubled. She became curious to know me more. An irony isn't it? We became close.We both set out to the intensive care unit of the state hospital. There we saw the vicar who was always looking hale and hearty looking so pale and sick. The sickness struck him so hard to a point he was demanding 'mercy killing' from the medical personnels. You can imagine. I felt bad seeing the man who loved me so much in such horrible state. Sandra never felt different, sadness was written all over her. He was admitted to WARD 24 where he would wait for a Coronary Bypass Surgery. We both had to s
Nurse Florence wasn't reluctant after she was paid a lump sum of #500,000. She didn't even think twice before accepting the offer. Moreover, Chinua did well in convincing her to give in. Money is indeed the root of evils."He is in ward 24, a fair-skinned guy, wrapped up in a purple blanket, that's him! Inject him with something lethal and take his life without hesitation. Let him go and be singing with the angels in heaven."She smiled, they shook hands afterwards. They had struck a deal!The night was cold, probably cos Shagbo was in its mid-harmmatan season. The mid-night before the dawn of vicar's coronary bypass surgery, vicar was giving some kinda reactions I never liked. He was talking like someone about to kick the bucket, giving some farewell speech, wishing Sandra and I luck in our endeavors in life and all."Vicar, can you please stop all these? You will not die, this surgery will
And so, on and on ,like the osscilation of a pendulum, the disheartening piece of my bio churned while the sands of time dripped slowly and slowly as it watched my narration irks the soul of the spectators. That I thought, but it appeared to be nothing but a blunt lie. It was a revolving piece of gags and laughs. A piece of funny cake, a chunk of interesting cheese, a loaf of an adventurous bread and a real ginger to the spirits of the audience. They applauded.I took a decision to brighten up and go kind of complicated. I hallucinated via traveling through the roads of time to a world of hope. The hope I couldn't give probably my careful friends, you know them. I mean the ones who never fell into the snare of clowny unfortunate mishaps SANDRA, SOLOMON and IK (my fi
Yeeeeee!!!” IK’s voice rang out.And then it began!“IK?” Florence jumped out of her sitting position in a flash, rushing to her first son. Chike was right at her heels, reaching IK in a flash. IK held his chest as pain engulfed his face.
One hour after closing , IK wasn’t back yet. Florence was beside herself with worry. She couldn’t keep herself calm as she paced the small confines of her roadside shop. Florence rubbed one sweaty palm nervously against the other as her eyes remained glued to the road, scanning every commercial bus that rolled by for her son. He should be back by now!Florence came out of her shop, avoiding the small puddle of water on the floor – an aftermath of the downpour of rain barely an hour ago - and walked a few steps to the shop directly beside hers to check the time for pr
Florence wiped the tears that rolled down her cheek with her left hand as she bit hard on her shaking lips, almost drawing blood. She was on pins and needles, there at the waiting room of a family friend's hospital, waiting for word on her son's state. Florence wiped at her cheeks again as she stood up from the stiff hospital bench for the umpteenth time, feeling restless. She could hear the wild beating of her heart, she could see nothing but the tears that clouded her eyes; but when her gaze became clearer, all she could see was the image of her son lying painfully lifeless in her arms.