A FOOL AT TWENTY

EPISODE V

Lesson 1: When You are surrounded by, vultures try not to die. Tottenham Hotspur has killed me and those vultures (my friends) will be waiting to devour me. Let me switch my mode to speaking in tongues.
Lesson 2: Do not laugh at those who are drowning when you are yet to cross a river. Shey those friends of mine are a conglomeration of arsenal and Manchester united fans. Izoryt. I will hire a congregation of laughers and mourners for them a week before they lose.

I had to wait till it was around 11pm, before I decided to "nicodemusly" head for home. I brought out my phone to call my younger sister (Nenrot) to open the gate for me, but was greeted with 167 missed calls. Thank God I told you that my friends can be so annoyingly crazy. Now you can see for yourselves. My phone would have been crashing in the mortuary and getting ready for embalming and burial/cremation, had I not silenced it. I did not bother to check, though an infinitesimal number of persons might have called in-between.
The phone rang twice before I heard footsteps coming towards the gate from inside. I rushed with "sorry baby sis" before I saw my mum disappointedly standing in front of meeee. Good morning, amean good evening or good night mum, I stammered. Is this the example you want to set for your younger ones? She interrupted. Haba Mama, you did not even bother to ask me what happened that I returned home this late. I gently answered. Look at my hands and body na. [I had intentionally soiled my hands, jacket and Jean (concentrated on the knees) with red sand. I also lightly scraped my palms against a wall. All these I did in case of incasities which eventually came]
[Now, it's not like anyone will spank me oo. But I wanted to preserve the respect being accorded me by my parents. I am highly respected in my family, amongst my relatives and in my neighbourhood. In fact, I was once told by my sister and and younger cousin that, almost every parent makes reference to me when it comes to good virtues (please someone should hold me before I faint). They also told me that, children both younger and older than me were consistently told to emulate me. Did you just hear that? My head swell, burst into pieces that day. It took me the grace of God to pack the pieces and reassemble them oo]
My mum took some few seconds to examine my body. Ah ah!! what happened to you? She quickly asked. I cleared my unlubricated throat, and innocently answered. I was attacked by bandits. My mum shouted in surprise. I continued. They asked for my phone. I was about to start pleading and subsequently tell them that I was an orphan ( skipped the orphan part sha), when 2 huge dogs appeared from no where, started barking and approaching us. That gave me enough opportunity to run with all my energy. I ran and hid in an uncompleted building. I was there for almost two hours, until I was sure they were no longer in that street. My mum immediately locked the gate. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh! sorry my son she said in bewilderment. she began to brush off the dust on my jacket with her hand (if I were still a kid, this would have been the right time to start sobbing, she would have cuddled me the more). And you did not call anyone, she asked. Noooo! Mama, I answered. I would have exposed myself now. OK, thank God you are safe now she continued. He used Dogs to save my son, may His name be praised (me dog? I did not see any dog oo.Lol, I thought). This government should do something about these jobless and useless children oo. I nodded in affirmation. This is how they would have injured or probably killed me sef I said. On hearing that, my mum started her usual castings and bindings ( My son shall not die young, the devil has no power over him.......). I started rushing inside, before she will open a church. She led me to the sitting room where I was aggressively welcomed by the usual loud snoring of my dad who was fast asleep in the master bedroom. I then entered the kitchen and met my food waiting for me. I instantly demolished a great mountain of "semovita" with a thick forest of well decorated and palatable "ogbono". It smoothly navigated its way through the once aggressive and coarse, but now super lubricated oesophagus down to my stomach. I drank 2 cupful of water and released a loud belch. I retired to my room and surrendered to my once sorrowful but now joyous bed (she taught I wouldn't come back, so romantic right?). Before I could say "Jesus wept" I was in dreamland. "Bon Nuit Mon amis" .Good night friends. See you tomorrow. Hug your beds and don't be jealous of my own oo.

Hello everyone....Hope y'all are doing great. Updates are coming pretty soon... Just don't want u to have constipation and indigestion in ur precious brains..Lol
....So take ur time to digest diz ones
Twenty47, Ann2012 and Hada2020 I see y'all....U d best..

EPISODE 4

My eyes had already sent message to my hypothalamus located in my brain which is cruelly imprisoned in the confines of my calcified cranium. Telling it to beg and stimulate my salivary gland to immediately commence the secretion and production of saliva. The guy collected the letter and reading the content, obliged and quickly commenced the secretion of volumes of undiluted saliva. The salivation was profuse until I tore a large flesh of sugarcane and began to masticate. Oh! I even have a match to watch. I pray this stubborn Tottenham team won't be stubborn today again ooo.
I slotted my earpieces into my already exhausted ears. I played my best love song titled " you don make me fall in love" by Dbanj to celebrate my newly found love (by faith..Oh ye of little faith). I excitedly and dancingly trekked to the Twenty47 viewing center. I did not realize how much of a spectacle I had turned into with my dancing and loud singing until I was greeted with stares and laughter from passersby and onlookers. I then relegated my self to only walking and lip singing as I completely devoured and annihilated the helpless sticks of sugarcane with the plantation of exoskeleton ruggedly arranged in my mouth called (teeth).
I briefly stopped by to empty my GP tank (bladder) at a nearby bush. I brought out my impatient watering can and properly irrigated the semi-dried and malnourished grasses with up to 2 litres of warm rainfall. They should be grateful you know, coz mine contains: urea +water = urine.
I finally got to Twenty47 viewing center at liberty boulevard, close to British America Junction in Jos metropolis. that's where I normally run to hide from my annoying friends anytime Chelsea is playing a tough match (Chelsea can disappoint like Nigerian government walai). The last time I watched such a match with them, I went home sobbing with swollen eyes ( As a man, I refused to cry). I'd prefer to watch such matches anonymously and console myself by listening to music(once beaten, twice shy. Me sef sabi English na. at least I get E8 for WAEC na).
I paid the fee and collected my ticket. I was about sitting my "gluteus maximus" (buttocks) down, when I checked the score. Mtcheeeew, not again na. Shey these guys are demons ni. they'll never allow Chelsea beat them ni.Ah ah now...It was just 20 minutes into the game, and Tottenham was already 1:0 up. I immediately picked up my phone and silenced it before my friends will run down my battery. I then remembered and started thinking of my Daniela; how I will kneel down and propose to her, and how she will shyingly close her eyes and say "Yes I do". (If you are jealous, then go and get your own. why are you complaining?).
It's a goooooooaal!. I unconsciously jumped to my feet and started shouting it's a gooooal!. Only to look at the screen to see Tottenham players celebrating 2:0 game over. I slumped to my chair in disappointment. First half ended. second half resumed and Chelsea started building momentum. Chelsea scored after 77 minutes to make it 2:1. I wanted to shout but decided to disguise as a "Dan adawa" (an opposition fan) or a neutral fan. I stayed glued to my chair and my heart was busy pounding yam inside my rib cage. please Chelsea score another goal, I prayed. Tottenham dominated the game. So I will be so glad to escape from "White Hart Lane" with a draw. When Chelsea were beginning to build up the tempo close to the end of the match with a few chances, then a certain Emmanuel Adebayor unsuspectingly noticed Chelsea's goalie, Petr Cech selling "Akara" outside the confines of his goal post, rifled a thunderous shot from 40 yards out. it's a goooooooooaaal!. The whole place answered. I don die. My friends go bury me today. Meanwhile, Missed calls had reached a staggering 45. That reminded me of the proverb: " When you are surrounded by vultures try not to die". Mooooogbe!. I has die. I has dead. I has deaded.

The chuckle turned laughter was like music to my ear. I had to go back, but this time I sat on the vendor's bench whose legs were partly supported by bulky stones. The bench, I guess should be in its 80s, if I am to go into the world of woods and benches. It made a squeaking sound (exactly the sound of a mouse caught in a trap.) as it sagged downward. Who cares? as long as I can catch a glimpse of the owner of that sumptuous voice, that almost ripped apart the organs that were caged inside this bloody " Homo sapien" called "Nengak" ( my tribal nomenclature given to me by my parents which means; God is One). But you can call me "Nenny as am fondly called.
I began scanning and perusing the adorable and super-charming creature with my magnifying lenses called eyes and praying that something should delay the vendor, before I heard "Nagode Oga". "Allah maka albarka" ( Thank you Oga. may God bless you). She collected the sticks with a jaw dropping and eye plucking smile. I don die again. They marched to the stupidly waiting hilux van and wickedly zoomed off.
I was still lost in thought or still in paradise, when a hand tapped me on my shoulder. That brought me back to earth. I turned and saw the vendor asking me why I haven't left. probably, he must have forgotten about my torn note, or he had pardoned me. I cared less.
I was only able to grasp the ovally beautiful face that sent me to oblivion. I also knew that I over heard the dad called her with a name that ended with a "la". I couldn't really place it, but I guess it should be Daniela. Wooooow! What a lovely name for an angel like her, I thought. I went to my phone's diary and saved the date as the day I met Daniela my Angel.

A FOOL AT TWENTY

EPISODE 2

Haba Daddy, calm down and allow the man concentrate now. A lady alighted from the right hand side of the hilux to meet the huge man standing by the sugar-cane table. I couldn't get a clear view of the lady before she got to the man I believe is her father. She was handling the man's right hand, and since I was standing by the left hand side of the man; I couldn't see the lady save for her freshly looking hands that were busy swinging her dad's hand. My eyes continued to swing like a pendulum Bob in resonance with the lady's swinging arms. How I wish it's my hand she's handling. I'd have to be taken to a psychiatric hospital the next day I dreamt.
The vendor had finished counting the sticks and excitedly announced the amount to the once angry and impatient but now calm and pacified gigantic man. "Nera Dari Tara da Talatin ne Oga" (Oga it's #930) . The man asked him to package the sticks for him. The vendor checked confusedly as though he had kept a big leather bag under his table. He briefly excused himself to go get a polythene bag.
I was about absconding, or better still leaving, when I remembered there was a sweet voice I needed to peruse the owner. She was partly masked by the man who wouldn't move forward or backward to allow me get a clear view. "wanni irin Maye ne wannan? ( What kind of a wizard is this man na?).
The man was growingly getting impatient part 2, while I was growingly getting annoyed and frustrated. As if he knew I was waiting for the littlest opportunity to view his daughter's curves, he then turned and faced the lady speaking a language I presumed to be "Idoma", thereby completely masking my poor, innocent and helpless looking eyes. I got angry and was about leaving ( after all what's the use of seeing her if I can't get to talk with her and probably get her contact?. There are many fishes in the river, if you catch one and it escapes, plunge deeper and catch another one. That's my Uncle's popular saying. Let me come and be going Jor)
The lady then chuckled and laughed a little as though she was making jest of me. She was actually laughing at the vendor.
What music did I just hear? I thought as I heard her laughed.
Chelsea, the players, the management can go to hell for all I care. How does watching Chelsea's match add a Kobo to my account balance na. Who that one ep na?. This is the kind of excuse I give when I have an important AP that's clashing with Chelsea's match. They can decide to get relegated. Mtcheeeew. I thought within micro seconds.
The vendor had arrived and was packaging the sticks, while I was on a brief journey to heaven to check if any Angel was missing. From that time I ceased to be my self. I became a confirmed emotionally obliterated fool.