The air as usual looked and smelt beautiful to me. The amount of flies buzzing over my head gave me joy. I could point them out and call them by their names since I've known them for a while. Abu was the one with gold lining his wings, Ada always buzzed louder than the rest. Segun had a thing for the mucus that gathered abundantly by the side of my eyes. He was always there feeding on it hungrily.

As I raised myself and stared at the garbage in front of me, the flies scattered a bit then returned.

"Please warn us next time. You scare us when you move suddenly." Segun said to me with his mouth full. I shook my head making him unsteady some more. If I hadn't grown attached to him, I would have swiped him dead with a flick of my fingers.

"He is a glutton, pay no heed to him. I wonder what he enjoys. Always seated perched to your eyes eating and eating all day yet he never gets fat."

Ada buzzed.

"I know. But he helps me keep other flies away." I muttered gently. It isn't one of those days that I would yap and yap. My mind was somewhere else. I had seen workers dressed in uniform and holding huge chains come to pick Alake. It still looked surreal to me. No matter how hard he tried to fight the chains thrown on him, it tied him down. With a loud bawl he had suddenly become silent and had been led away meekly. All these happened in the dead of the night. I hadn't slept in my usual spot because of what I had picked earlier from the garbage and eaten. My stomach had a terrible upset that I had to close both legs to prevent faeces from finding their way down my legs. A mad man is a repulsive sight, add faeces to him and people might want to shoot him dead.

With the way those men looked around cautiously, even going as far as my spot, I knew they would return. Yes, they usually do. First they had tried to lure me with banana but it didn't work. Then they had come with coke and bread but it wasn't yummy enough. I still preferred the taste of decaying food and its slimy feeling as it glides down my throat.

"What of Alake?" Abu asked. He had wandered off and had returned some moments later.

"He was taken last night."

I replied gloomily.

"Ohhhhhh!" The three flies buzzed in unison. "No wonder you look all grumpy this morning. One would have thought that you found love by night and by day, heartbreak."

Ada added.

"Well, love is a mirage. It is only real when you have something going. The moment you are not there, forgetfulness sets in and your name gets relegated to the cesspit of unwanted memories."

"Wow, you are poetic."

Segun said from the safety of my eyes. I could see him rubbing his hands together as if in satisfaction before going back to devouring the food that poured out abundantly from my eyes.

"Poetry comes as a result of unreciprocated love." A smile was starting to crease my face but I stopped it halfway. I still hadn't forgotten the name of who had made that quote, Danteomo. The Memory Lane I was drifting into was magical at first but the ending was terrible.

"I don't fall in love. In fact, I don't think we flies have hearts. What we have is just a thin film that allows little blood from our head to pump around our bodies. The next time I visit that school over there, I will eavesdrop on the lessons, maybe by then I will tell you what that organ is."

Abu said as flew and landed on my dreads.

"You need to wash your hair. Fleas and ticks seem to be rioting up here."

"Let them be. My body is large enough to accommodate y'all." I replied him.

"I am very much interested in your story."

Ada buzzed. Her wings shown in the sunlight.

"You want people to keep up that notion that individuals like us talk to ourselves right? People will say I am mad."
"Ain't ya? If you weren't, you wouldn't be here."

Segun buzzed.

"I am not. The circumstances of the world drove me here. I know you all are in my mind but to humour myself, I will tell you my story."
I said to them as I walked to my spot to sit down. I leaned back and closed my eyes. The memories in digital colour came flooding back. I opened my eyes to shut it out before starting to talk.

"My name is Ochuko and this is my story...."

To be continued...

#JoeyWrites

Mehn this intro is worth more than a nuclear weapon...
Lemme book a spot here...

I had goosebumps all over reading this. A story from a mad man POV, ride on baba flow

(Episode 2)

I stretched and turned on my bed that morning. My mind was a little blank. I did not know where I was at first before slowly it dawned on me that I was in my room. My very room had looked strange to me, maybe because of the excitement that was bubbling inside of me. I refused moving from the bed until I heard my mother's voice. As usual she was raising a high praise and it could have been what had woken me up, in fact it always did. She was like the alarm clock in the house. Once it is 5:00am, her voice in a its strength starts singing. From Yoruba songs to Igbo down to Hausa and Ijaw songs.

"Satan comot for road o! I carry Holy Ghost fire, I no get brake o! I go jam you for head!"

I yawned lazily. If I didn't go and join in the prayer or come in some minutes late, I would be the topic of the morning devotion. No one, neither me nor my sister likes it when we are topics. This is because all our sins are called into remembrance. It is as if the ones you have been forgiven, the ones you did the previous day and the one you are planning to do would be lined up. Mama preaches so much about how God forgives and forgets and had always told us to ask for forgiveness whenever we wrong someone. This we had practice from infancy. Mother, she would say she has forgiven you but if you come late to morning devotion, you would realize she hadn't forgotten.

"Blessed be the name of the Lord, he is worthy to be praised and adored! So we lift up holy hands in one accord, singing, blessed be the name, o, blessed be name, oo, blessed be the name of the Lord!"

A time of worship in the dimly lit room. Even though there was constant power supply, mother always insisted that the room be left semi or totally dark. Says it makes her feel comfortable communing with her father in heaven early in the morning.

"Father, we pray that you direct the footsteps of your son. Do not let him fall by the wayside like the grains of corn in the parable of Jesus that got eaten by birds. Oh God! Let him fall on fertile soil and may his results multiply successfully in the name of Jesus!"

The whole family screamed a thunderous "amen!". My eyes cleared. No wonder I had been excited earlier to the point of forgetting my immediate surroundings. I was going to school today.

"Dear Lord, he is your son and after crying for five years, you dropped him in my womb. Like Hannah, I gave him back to you. God! See him through in the name of Jesus! Evil shall not befall him, trials and persecutions would he overcome in the name of Jesus! And dear God, if any girl decides that my son is whom she wants to lead astray, let her die by fire in the name of Jesus!"

I heard the reverberating amen but my mouth was shut to the last point in the prayer. I have always wanted freedom and schooling faraway from home presented my much sought-after freedom. I had always been close to God from the beginning. Maybe because according to my mother, she had cried to God and he had met her at the point of her needs. Initially, while still in primary school, it was fun hearing my mum referring to me in the presence of my teachers and classmates as "pastor" but when I got into senior classes in my secondary school days, I always cringed when she called me that. Deola was what was on my mind night and day.

"May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the sweet fellowship of the Holy Spirit rest and abide with us now and forever. Amen."

The prayer came to a close. I opened my eyes and lo and behold, it was a full house. The first light of dawn was already seeping in through the curtains. Father was already dressed for work. Usual of him. Mother always made sure of this. Sometimes I wonder how she does it. She's probably the last to sleep but the first to wake up. For the first seventeen years I had spent on earth, the routine never changed.

"Ochuko..."

Father's voice cut through my thoughts. I looked at him. He was beginning to grey on both sides of his temple but his eyes still carries fire. I couldn't bring myself to stare for long into the eyes of my father. It was always intimidating making me cower in submission.

"Yes daddy..." I replied standing up slightly from the chair I was seating on. A quick move of his hands made me remain on the seat.

"I have given everything to your mother. She is going to give them to you. Now listen to me. You are no longer a child. Anything that would make you leave this house to go stay on your own whether in school or anywhere indicates one thing. You are grown. You have always made me proud and I know you wouldn't stop now. Be a good ambassador to this family because if outsiders wants to judge the way and manner I raised my children, they wouldn't ask me. They will simply look at your life. Left for me, I would have said you should turn eighteen first before going to school but the world has changed. The quicker you go to school, the quicker you graduate and the quicker you get established. Hardwork pays and perseverance plus honesty propels one into greater heights."

Father paused a little before continuing, "Ochuko, you have a family that is not bereft of love. And the best has been given to you. I am not saying you will not encounter life but when you do, remember the son of whom you are and the family from which you come from. Do not let the simple things of life distract you from achieving your life long goals. Remember, it is the way that seemeth right but the end thereof is destruction. Keep your head down and learn. If you need any help, whether financially or morally, don't hesitate to dial my number or your mum's. We will always be there for you."

I looked up when he stopped talking. This was the lengthiest speech I had ever received from my dad.

"Okay father."

I muttered. He wasn't done yet.

"I am not saying you should not make friends but please, do not allow your friends chose you. You should do the choosing. And if any of them doesn't conform with your vision, do not waste time in cutting them off."

"Yes Sir." I replied.

"Now come closer." Father beckoned at me. I did and he placed his hand on my head. For the first time, I actually felt connected to my father. Even though we talk sometimes and my mother always made me tell him about my big problems, I felt he wasn't there enough or he doesn't love me enough. His action that morning wiped off every trace of doubt. Father truly loves me.

"Success is yours my son and no evil eyes shall see you. You shall go to that school and return more than a conqueror."

It ended abruptly. Father turned and left the room. I just stood there watching his retreating shadow. I had caught a wisp of emotion in his voice.

"Ochuko mma, go in and take your bath."

I felt mother's hand on my shoulders. I nodded slowly and moved towards the inner room.

"For your mind you dey feel yourself shebi."

Oh God, I had totally forgotten that Osas existed. She was smiling sheepishly.

"Dey there dey talk, your time go come. Na one week dry fasting them go declare for your head. You know say you be woman na..."

I left the talk there. She understood and showed me her five fingers. I smiled. Mother had walked to the kitchen when the exchange of words started. I knew my stomach would be pleading for mercy in no time because mother would want to feed her son one last time before he leaves the comfort of her home and the sweetness of her food behind.

To be continued....

"We walk not because we want to but because each step takes us closer to achieving our destinies."

#JoeyWrites

Dear Readers, I will be updating either once or twice a day depending on the strength of my mind and battery power. Currently working on my Final Year Project and it is consuming my time but I love writing. Lol, writing stories is different from writing codes in Java and PHP. At least here, there are no rules but right there, the rules are cray cray.

Please y'all shouldn't get angry when there is no update for a while, it is the situation of things.

I am JoeyWrites and I write to be read!


#JoeyWrites