First thing i do in every morning is turn on my data connection.
Yes, i know, it's phone addiction, you will damage your eyes, the sensitive rays from a phone are capable of causing cancer—bla-bla-bla—Keep the advice to yourself.
It's Friday again. TGIF. But Mumsi still isn't back from her trip. It's unlike her, to travel suddenly then over stay on top of that. But i would be telling you lies, if i say I'm not enjoying the bit of peace I've gotten so far. I sleep a bit while letting the status' on my WhatsApp load. Earlier, in the middle of the night when I had to wake up to take a piss, it was like i was at the north-pole, freezing myself out in a singlet and an old pair of jeans, Tobi cut at the knees with a sharp pair of scissors. Now I'm in full cold-weather-proof-armour. I'm talking about beanie, hoodie, jean trousers, and stocking-ed feet. I snuggle into the now warm folds of my tussled sheets and enjoy the last streaks of night.
Ma
Trouble is not anosmic as you would think. Trouble stinks, with a fetid aroma like sulphur roasting a corpse. My nose has been trained to seek it out since the day a lorry tried to put its metal rib cage straight through Mum and I, since the day i woke up in n a hospital bed with an inferno in my lungs and lead flowing in my veins.I got to school late, as usual. If i was a junior i believe my life right at this point will be one full of frog jumps and kneeling out in the open for hours, the sun in my face. I've been there and done all of that, enough for five life times. I waltz into the class like a princess from some fairy tale story.Welcome to the benefits of being in SS3. You are a student and at the same time, you're not. Check this; you could put a javelin through the white marker board and get a pat on the shoulder as punishment, but God help you, you dare staff. You'll be handled like a terrorist. No lie. And trust when i say it's neither a Queen'
Guyyyy, this gbedu dey mad gahn.Oh, sorry. Sometimes i forget you aren't from PH city. I suppose I have to explain that now eh. I will break it down to you like the learned bilinguist i am.That was pidgin for: This. party. is. hot.And pay attention to "hot" there, 'cause it's not just any type of hot. It's broiling-blazing-roasting-flaming-baking-steamy hot—igneous hot. The kind of skin blistering fire i felt on my hands after i assisted Mumsi in rinsing those shiny chili peppers she grinds to add to the moi-moi to give it colour. Yeah, that's about it. I've never been to an actual party, but any three year old will know a-making-sense-party when he sees one.Ok, pause. Hold that thought for a second, would you.It wouldn't be the whole truth if i told you that. I've been to one or two decent parties—if I'm being completely sincere—where we all had to wear conical party hats and drink lukewarm Capr
An A-list artiste's concert wouldn't be this roof raising.'Roof raising' is a simple way to describe it. They are making serious attempts to set the roof ablaze and gas up the naked night sky.I meet Pascal at the gate post where he's turning his pockets inside out, looking for money to pay off the kekenape that dropped him. Hippie red, blue and pink glowing from the tricycle's headlamps wash him in fluctuating rainbow colours that make his deep brown skin brown-emerald one second, and brownish indigo the next. He spots me and hollers my name. I wave back and go on to meet him. He wraps me up in an embrace worthy of a grizzly bear, for like the six thousandth time since I met him. Boy sure likes his hugs. "Hey are you wearing make-up?" He sounds suprised that I would."No." I lie smoothly "I'm not. Why?""I swear it looks like you are." He squints at my features, I smirk up at him."Ha! I knew you were wearing make up
Twelve O' three and Amanda's still not here.Abe swishes the contents of his cup around and stares at the people swaying around him. It's his second in almost an hour, he just swirls it round and round the cup, like doing that would make it taste any less than some bodily fluid. Braids are sweeping the floor, shapes like hour glasses strut about. The type of babes that you don't even glance at if you don't have up to five-hundred-K in your account that is easily spendable. I know when Abe is checking out a babe; he gets that dangerous glint in his eye. He shouldn't even bother."She's girl is pretty." He says.I cut him some nasty side and say "Don't even dream about it."He snickers. "I was just stating the obvious guy, relax.""Better. Just leave it at that level." He laughs a deep laugh that curls up from his belly. Ahmed is still trying to get Chantelle to laugh. So far, he has managed to squeeze half a smile out of her, twice
"Ello bae" Abe drawls when i get to them. Then he does a double take and goes "Ummm, Bae where have you been hiding all that fine-ness".Somebody hold this boy, pls.I sure am glad that i decided to bring my jacket along, because it seems like the only thing preventing him from biting me. Chantelle shoves him with her free arm and he goes tumbling back, snickering the whole way.And there is Chideziri, standing in the doorway. Chideziri letting the bulb's glower roll off him in waves of crimson. The colours and the noise can consume every one, except him. Chideziri making the moment seem a lot more worth living in.He asks Abe smoothly, in an extra nice voice "Where do you want your teeth, on the floor? Or in your cup?" He sounds like he's only half joking.Abe's grin is smug."Those are options A and B, what option says none of the above?""None"He glares at Abe for a moment, then dis
A whisper of words, that's what it begins as.Then slowly, ever so slowly, it creeps, then crawls into a formidable tempo that can turn heads. A smile bright as any street light in this crazy city Suns up Amanda's face. Resplendent in its rays, beaming directly on my face. I wonder why they even bother with all these solar powered lamp posts lining the alleys and walkways, when a single person can make-up the whole town in glowing, scintillating shades o'brown and white."Oh my God! This is my song!" She shrieks.I don't recognize the song until Falz's voice seeps out of the home-theatre speaker, loud and accented, and confident in its pitch.YahWhat if I ask you to marry me?Born for meJe ka ride till eternityWhat if I say there's no plan B?Say I ready to come in to meet the familyComeWhat if I already planned it?I find myself being hauled back into the hou
That Disc Jockey knows his stuff.The cheer is a roar, and it is a combination of hollering and lip-synching. Soon the party is alive again. Abe leaps out of his seat, startling Ahmed wide awake. He bounds into the quickly converging crowd and screams "Gimme space, make I no kill person!" then he does that swaying dance he does, with his knees bent in a crouching stance, his arms moving as if he's rocking some big Madam's hip.SMH........ We are immediately caught up in a tide of skin—russet, honey, latte, cinnamon, umber, whatever. Sweaty, dry, oiled, perfumed; it doesn't matter. We all are just skin. What matters is the now. The damp heat that isn't even a little uncomfortable, the screams of "She say A-ye, No lele", the energized air forcing birr down my burning windpipe, the touch of strangers arms and bodies and vibes on mine. That's all that has an iota of meaning in this now. And this now.....this moment...it's covered
Even Chantelle gets into the fray. It's that dope.I've been thinking on what Tobi says about the brother of a fool being a fool. Judging by the crazy dancing I see I say my friends are fools. Big time. And If it makes any sense, then i am one, too. And I couldn't care less. I want to be a fool for life, if I get to keep these ones, if by some chance, fate doesn't reappear to tear our clique apart after this stage of our lives. I am aware that there are few re-beginnings and fewer happy endings, but these moments—these minut bursts of light are all I'm certain of.