Mama had no choice but to take me to Oga Sule the cobbler to learn the art of shoemaking. Since I was expelled from the only means of education at Shagbo, I just had to be up to something other than education that’s if I still had anything reasonable I wanted to do with my life.
Oga Sule as he was fondly called was also known as Dr shoe. This was because he was highly recognized to be expertise with any form of footwear. He boasted he had a PhD in shoemaking from the University of oxford UK. He was tall, dark-skinned and handsome. And seemed his shoemaking profession has gotten him heights of good fortune. he had a very big shop at the centre of the Shagbo market where lots of apprentices and workers learnt from him. He was regarded to be the most successful in shagbo market and he was given a chieftaincy title. I’ve heard somewhere that Oga Sule can no longer perform his duty as a man. That is he cannot procreate, but he was fortunate to have given birth to a bouncing baby boy before the diagnose. This little boy he had regarded as the only treasure of his life but the unfortunate me would always sour the joy of everyone.
I was alone in Oga Sule’s big shop one day the other apprentices had been given a break to go to their respective homes to have lunch and a rest. Oga Sule’s wife Rofia came into the shop, well dressed in her all covering hijab, she also backed Sule’s only child. Chukka, how are you now’’ she greeted. “Aunty Rofia I am great oo, I’m just bored, I’m the only one in the shop all the rest had gone on break, mama is not at home that’s why, I would have gone too’’ I replied. “Oh, that’s okay, please I would love to quickly keep my son with you I want to go and see the Taffeta clothes weaver to settle some debts, I would be back very soon’’ she handed her baby over to me, “such an handsome boy”. I played with his chubby cheeks and flanged him to and fro but he slept off few minutes after his mother left. I laid him in a secluded small room in the shop and went on with my work. But this hunger disturbing me is not making me comfortable; I decided to cook a cup of rice on the gas stove in the shop. Everything set, my food was on the fire. Along the line, while I was cooking, I remembered Dozie telling me yesterday he won 200 doing Surebet. Wow, he was so fortunate oo. And luckily for me, I had N25 left in my pocket. This N25 can give birth to children’’ I thought of with a smile on my face. I thought of what to do, Sule’s son was fast asleep and my rice was just on fire. Both can remain locked in the shop while I go meet Dozie at the Surebet shop. Such a nice idea! Glory be to God, that day. Like I thought earlier, my N25 gave birth to children. With just N25 and Dozie’s guidance , I won N1OOO. Such glamour. I finally made mama proud. That could feed us for a whole week! The joy in my heart knew no bound only to be short lived and quenched when I approached Shagbo market.
A huge cloud of smoke rose over the entire market area as could see it several kilometers away. “What happened? was someone burning bush’’? I reasoned. The heat and flame intensified as I approached only to discover the whole market was on fire. Oh my God!! and Shagbo community had no fire service. I started to cry but blood came out when I remembered I had left Oga Sule’s only son locked inside the shop. I increased my pace, "I would do anything possible today, even if I would enter the fire." The gas cooker I left in the shop for too long was what caused the inferno. I came nearer but it was too late. The fire was already too much that I could not stand 10 meters from it because of its outrageous heat. I kept my hand on my head screaming modaran, modaran! (I’m in trouble)
The N25 I thought would give birth to many children had definitely killed thousands of unknown children in the shops and the only child someone could have. Oga Sule
It was a sad night at Shagbo market. Countless burnt corpses were pulled out of the market. The great agony I caused was unexplainable. I can’t imagine the debt the traders whose goods got burnt would face now. The great Shagbo market had turned into a deserted graveyard. I got to know that Rofia came back to the shop but I later got to know that Rofia died alongside with her baby because the shop was locked and no one was there to open it when the fire started raging. Anyway, nobody got to know I was the root of the tragedy in Shagbo, because people knowing would only cause greater predicament. They would stone me alive, banish my family and clear any traces of my history on earth. I left Oga Sule in the cold, all he had; his wife, his only child, his shop. I sent him back to square 1. I later got to know Sule ran mad because of the depression he had to face. My badluck had cost lives and property and even ran a man mad….. Who can help me?
Can you??????????????
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 arm
“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