Guys, finally I post the final episode. I know say I don explain taya but make I still explain one last time. This as you know has been one heaven of a journey for me. Even when everything points to the fact that I should bring this to a close I still find a way to perpetuate it. Number 225 Katakata Street is more than just a story as you know. Were things to be different, I'd have liked to stick to my initial resolve to write this to infinitum. But mehn....anyway make e be. I wrote and rewrote these two concluding chapters so many times that I'm convinced that if I had posted this concluding one any earlier than today I would have found a reason to come back tomorrow to continue. But I found a conclusion I was satisfied with. I hope that you'll feel so too. So please enjoy. If you have to go back a few episodes to be able to follow please do. I'll put everything together in one place soon so it can make perfect sense when you do reread. I strongly recommend that everyone get copies of Number 225 Katakata Street for the wealth of information and enlightenment it contains. Also, buy make this new year sweet for your guy

Until my next project...Cheerio my friends.


ONE DAY AT A TIME (final chapter)

News reaches us that Maya has had a baby boy. I am happy for her and I text her to congratulate her. I am still in my new state of ease with the world. In the evenings, I sit alone on the soak-away slab and watch the street. After dinner when it is dark I am there again gazing at the stars. When I go to bed, I fall asleep within minutes.

Irikefe has now moved out and Castro went to live with him. Castro says he too needs to go out and find himself and I agree. Both young men receive my blessings and we have been texting on WhatsApp every day.

The council of elders have sat a few times since the afternoon of Maya’s delivery. I have not felt the need to be a part of the meetings. Sitting by myself has been enough for me.

My neighbours have let me be. They think I am on my own because I am heartbroken. If they find my bearing at variance with this line of thought, they are happy not to say. I have to be heartbroken. What else should there be? What else would make them happy?

Josephine approaches me at the soak away. She is wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I remember the last time we sat here together. She had been wearing a bum short and a top that was not more than a few strings around her body. We wanted to make Maya jealous after our first major fallout after she lost the first baby. Things got heated and I was about to go to bed with her when Mama Akunna showed up. The compound had just been praying after we were rid of all doubts that the old woman was a witch. Her alighting from a keke hale and hearty after we had finished casting her to the bottomless pit of hell made us all scram in different directions. I aborted my mission to Josephine’s bed. Someone else, Wasiu, then surreptitiously went and took my place.

Just like then, she comes and sits close to me now. This time she keeps a respectful space between us. She does not start a conversation at once. People now perceive the need to be economical with words around me and it gladdens me. Finally, she says, “I delivered her of the baby you know.”

“Oh.”

“I thought you’d like to know.”

“Well yeah, I suppose it’s good to know.”

“That man wanted to be in the room. I chased him out with the heel of my shoe.”

I chuckle and she continues, “He stood there cursing and swearing the whole time! What kind of fvcking hospital is this? Can your doctor speak English? Are your instruments clean? I swear to God if anything happens to her you’re all dead! Yen yen yen!”

“That sounds very caring,” I say.

“Caring my ass. He was just showing himself. ‘We should have gone to St Nicholas. We should have gone to Lagoon. Fvck! This place stinks!”

“And why didn’t they go to those other hospitals?”

“She was already crowning, that is the head of the baby was already visible, while they were in the car.”

I shift uncomfortably and she reaches out and squeezes my hand.

“Don’t worry he didn’t look. She announced it to him and told him to come to our hospital. She knew it was my shift. It was a great pleasure.”

“Yes, I saw you just heading out that afternoon.”

“Yes. It was too easy for a first-timer. I’m happy for her. Happy for you too.”

Again, number 225 Katakata Street begin to lurk around. I can hear their unspoken thoughts. He has found a willing replacement for Maya. Let’s wait and see when they go inside. I shake my head.

“Why are you happy for me Nurse?”

“It’s yours Ndi. The resemblance! I have never seen anything more obvious.”

I sigh and say, “Why do people say this of newborns? A month in maybe. The only obvious thing when they just emerge is if they are white or black or mixed race.”

Now it is her turn to chuckle. “Trust me the resemblance is always there. And in some families, there is even a running trait. I remember one case where this old woman came in and all she was saying was let me see the eyes. I want to see the eyes!”

“Meaning?”

“It’s a family where they have big eyeballs. As I later learnt, one hundred per cent of the time their children come out with the same bulky eyes. If you say you are having their baby and it comes out without the family's eyes, just pack your things and go. No DNA needed.”

“Now that is risky. Genes mutate. Sometimes the resemblance is borrowed from an ancestor and not the immediate family.”

“My dear as I learnt that day, if you are pregnant in that family, just start praying from day one that the genes do not mutate. The old woman was the boyfriend’s mother who did not want her son to marry the girl. She did not believe the pregnancy was his because she used to shake her bum on TikTok. The first time she smiled at her son’s girlfriend was as the baby passed the visual DNA test.”

“It had big eyeballs.”

“Just like the father’s. Just like all seven family members men and women that came at different times that day before they were discharged. It was incredible.”

We become silent. I can see more of Willy Willy’s boys in the usual places.

“This one looks like you too Ndi.”

I nod and continue to stare into space. Someone is burning a tyre from a distance. Black smoke rises into the sky. The voices coming through are frantic.

“I hope all is well over there,” I say.

Josephine hisses and says, “All is well Ndi. People here did not start acting crazy today. I’m talking about your child now. Your firstborn son!”

There is a dramatic ring to the last sentence. It sounds like something out of a Nollywood flick. The expected reaction would be for the addressee to spring to his feet, shake his head, and roar something like ‘impossible. Nothing must happen to my heir! The first seed from my eminent loins! Show me the bastard and I will cut off his scrotum!” Instead, I smile and squeeze her hand in return and say nothing. She continues to regard me. I recognize a similar expression on her face to the one on Irikefe’s the other time. But Josephine seems to have more faith in my sanity, because, after a while, she says “I know you need to do a lot of thinking. You cannot be rash with your actions. The fact is that that man is an asshole and my girl deserves better. Consider the baby.”

I remain silent and continue to take in my environment. A familiar cock with one leg hops into view. I watch as it stops and cranes its neck in the direction of the frontage where it lost its other leg. The boys of number 225 once took offence at it for pooping on their playground and crippled it with a stone and a good aim. The owner is the oldest resident of number 221 who built a small cage in their backyard for the three birds he rears and lets them roam free in the daytime. I always thought Baba Taju belonged more in Number 225 than in any other compound on Katakata Street. Rearing chicken on the chaotic street is the sort of endeavour only a resident of Number 225 would undertake. He had a piece of red cloth tied to the feathers of each bird. Irikefe once said, “Who wan thief dat kind dirty fowl? Fowl wey dey chop shit! Na disease go kill you before even the juju.” I give full attention to the cock now. The way it throws its neck from front to back makes it look like it is reconsidering its decision to visit Number 225 again. It succumbs to wisdom and hops back in the direction from where it came.

Josephine shifts uncomfortably. She is still studying me. Then suddenly she says, “But what are you even supposed to do? Our girl has gone and had her baby and has left with the man. Does she expect you to now go and pull down their door and demand for the baby? What will you even do with the baby?”

I do not feel the need to respond.

“Why are you even so calm?” She says.

I tilt and face her and smile. She cannot sustain eye contact with me. It is in the evenings like this back home that I would take to the top of the guava tree in my father’s compound. I like the mean rootedness of trees. They bloom rain or shine and are unfazed by wind or gusts. They may lose a leaf here or there, and sometimes a branch would snap under harsh conditions, but they always rejuvenate and remain. In my delicate moments, I took to the tree and I was there until I felt rejuvenated. My worries float away as it ventilates. My mother had said that the only thing she was grateful for as I was leaving the village was that I would stop nestling atop trees. It terrified her that I could always be found there even as a child. They said in the village that it was even more unusual to see a six-foot young man finding the top of trees accommodating when there were girls to chase. I sigh and take a deep breath.

“It doesn’t make sense right? I mean, I’m not making sense,” Josephine says. She bites her lips and continues, “You know, Maya has made her choice. I know you are not a saint but neither is she. You do not put a man in such a situation. I mean… what a mess! You just remain cool okay? When your child grows up, he will look for you.”

With that, Josephine gets up, hesitates and then says, “You will move away too right? Your boys are gone, Jide and Funbi married last week. You know that right?

I nod.

“Maya has happened, Achike gone too. Not to talk of all those that went in the past both on foot and in coffins.”

“Alhaji has sold the house. This time, we all don’t have a choice.”

Alhaji Sirika’s red cherookee jeep stutters to a stop as and he hops out with three Asian men in tow. Without speaking to anyone he takes the men on a tour of the house and at the end of it they stop at the frontage and Alhaji Sirika announces loudly:

“Ehm…all of you see your new Landlord o! Mr Cho. Say whatever you want to say. They will all hear.”

There are not many people on the frontage now. But Alhaji knows what he is saying. Whatever is about to happen will be transmitted in no time to everyone who needs to know. It is Number 225 Katakata Street after all.

The oldest-looking of the three Asian men clears his throat and stutters, “I buy house I change house for warehouse all you pack go!”

“Have you people heard? Please go and kill yourselves somewhere else. No more. A lawyer will come and serve you official notices. Your rent will be returned for those who still have time. May God never let me come in contact with human beings like you again.”

Alhaji Sirika hurries back into his car together with Mr Cho and his compatriots. We all know we will never see him again.

A commotion erupts in number 225.

“How did you know Alhaji had sold the house?” Josephine says to me as neighbours scamper.

“I did not know.”

“You said it just before he drove in.”

“Did I?”

Josephine regards me for a long time, shudders and walks away.

Mr Cosmas joins me at the soak-away. We sit in silence and observe. We watch as the news of our final eviction notice develops legs and moves from room to room and all the crannies of Katakata Street in no time.

Continue reading https://katakatastreet.com/2023/12/28/one-day-at-a-time-final-chapter/

Centino:
Guys, finally I post the final episode. I know say I don explain taya but make I still explain one last time. This as you know has been one heaven of a journey for me. Even when everything points to the fact that I should bring this to a close I still find a way to perpetuate it. Number 225 Katakata Street is more than just a story as you know. Were things to be different, I'd have liked to stick to my initial resolve to write this to infinitum. But mehn....anyway make e be. I wrote and rewrote these two concluding chapters so many times that I'm convinced that if I had posted this concluding one any earlier than today I would have found a reason to come back tomorrow to continue. But I found a conclusion I was satisfied with. I hope that you'll feel so too. So please enjoy. If you have to go back a few episodes to be able to follow please do. I'll put everything together in one place soon so it can make perfect sense when you do reread. I strongly recommend that everyone get copies of Number 225 Katakata Street for the wealth of information and enlightenment it contains. Also, buy make this new year sweet for your guy

Until my next project...Cheerio my friends.


ONE DAY AT A TIME (final chapter)

News reaches us that Maya has had a baby boy. I am happy for her and I text her to congratulate her. I am still in my new state of ease with the world. In the evenings, I sit alone on the soak-away slab and watch the street. After dinner when it is dark I am there again gazing at the stars. When I go to bed, I fall asleep within minutes.

Irikefe has now moved out and Castro went to live with him. Castro says he too needs to go out and find himself and I agree. Both young men receive my blessings and we have been texting on WhatsApp mod every day.

The council of elders have sat a few times since the afternoon of Maya’s delivery. I have not felt the need to be a part of the meetings. Sitting by myself has been enough for me.

My neighbours have let me be. They think I am on my own because I am heartbroken. If they find my bearing at variance with this line of thought, they are happy not to say. I have to be heartbroken. What else should there be? What else would make them happy?

Josephine approaches me at the soak away. She is wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I remember the last time we sat here together. She had been wearing a bum short and a top that was not more than a few strings around her body. We wanted to make Maya jealous after our first major fallout after she lost the first baby. Things got heated and I was about to go to bed with her when Mama Akunna showed up. The compound had just been praying after we were rid of all doubts that the old woman was a witch. Her alighting from a keke hale and hearty after we had finished casting her to the bottomless pit of hell made us all scram in different directions. I aborted my mission to Josephine’s bed. Someone else, Wasiu, then surreptitiously went and took my place.

Just like then, she comes and sits close to me now. This time she keeps a respectful space between us. She does not start a conversation at once. People now perceive the need to be economical with words around me and it gladdens me. Finally, she says, “I delivered her of the baby you know.”

“Oh.”

“I thought you’d like to know.”

“Well yeah, I suppose it’s good to know.”

“That man wanted to be in the room. I chased him out with the heel of my shoe.”

I chuckle and she continues, “He stood there cursing and swearing the whole time! What kind of fvcking hospital is this? Can your doctor speak English? Are your instruments clean? I swear to God if anything happens to her you’re all dead! Yen yen yen!”

“That sounds very caring,” I say.

“Caring my ass. He was just showing himself. ‘We should have gone to St Nicholas. We should have gone to Lagoon. Fvck! This place stinks!”

“And why didn’t they go to those other hospitals?”

“She was already crowning, that is the head of the baby was already visible, while they were in the car.”

I shift uncomfortably and she reaches out and squeezes my hand.

“Don’t worry he didn’t look. She announced it to him and told him to come to our hospital. She knew it was my shift. It was a great pleasure.”

“Yes, I saw you just heading out that afternoon.”

“Yes. It was too easy for a first-timer. I’m happy for her. Happy for you too.”

Again, number 225 Katakata Street begin to lurk around. I can hear their unspoken thoughts. He has found a willing replacement for Maya. Let’s wait and see when they go inside. I shake my head.

“Why are you happy for me Nurse?”

“It’s yours Ndi. The resemblance! I have never seen anything more obvious.”

I sigh and say, “Why do people say this of newborns? A month in maybe. The only obvious thing when they just emerge is if they are white or black or mixed race.”

Now it is her turn to chuckle. “Trust me the resemblance is always there. And in some families, there is even a running trait. I remember one case where this old woman came in and all she was saying was let me see the eyes. I want to see the eyes!”

“Meaning?”

“It’s a family where they have big eyeballs. As I later learnt, one hundred per cent of the time their children come out with the same bulky eyes. If you say you are having their baby and it comes out without the family's eyes, just pack your things and go. No DNA needed.”

“Now that is risky. Genes mutate. Sometimes the resemblance is borrowed from an ancestor and not the immediate family.”

“My dear as I learnt that day, if you are pregnant in that family, just start praying from day one that the genes do not mutate. The old woman was the boyfriend’s mother who did not want her son to marry the girl. She did not believe the pregnancy was his because she used to shake her bum on TikTok. The first time she smiled at her son’s girlfriend was as the baby passed the visual DNA test.”

“It had big eyeballs.”

“Just like the father’s. Just like all seven family members men and women that came at different times that day before they were discharged. It was incredible.”

We become silent. I can see more of Willy Willy’s boys in the usual places.

“This one looks like you too Ndi.”

I nod and continue to stare into space. Someone is burning a tyre from a distance. Black smoke rises into the sky. The voices coming through are frantic.

“I hope all is well over there,” I say.

Josephine hisses and says, “All is well Ndi. People here did not start acting crazy today. I’m talking about your child now. Your firstborn son!”

There is a dramatic ring to the last sentence. It sounds like something out of a Nollywood flick. The expected reaction would be for the addressee to spring to his feet, shake his head, and roar something like ‘impossible. Nothing must happen to my heir! The first seed from my eminent loins! Show me the bastard and I will cut off his scrotum!” Instead, I smile and squeeze her hand in return and say nothing. She continues to regard me. I recognize a similar expression on her face to the one on Irikefe’s the other time. But Josephine seems to have more faith in my sanity, because, after a while, she says “I know you need to do a lot of thinking. You cannot be rash with your actions. The fact is that that man is an asshole and my girl deserves better. Consider the baby.”

I remain silent and continue to take in my environment. A familiar cock with one leg hops into view. I watch as it stops and cranes its neck in the direction of the frontage where it lost its other leg. The boys of number 225 once took offence at it for pooping on their playground and crippled it with a stone and a good aim. The owner is the oldest resident of number 221 who built a small cage in their backyard for the three birds he rears and lets them roam free in the daytime. I always thought Baba Taju belonged more in Number 225 than in any other compound on Katakata Street. Rearing chicken on the chaotic street is the sort of endeavour only a resident of Number 225 would undertake. He had a piece of red cloth tied to the feathers of each bird. Irikefe once said, “Who wan thief dat kind dirty fowl? Fowl wey dey chop shit! Na disease go kill you before even the juju.” I give full attention to the cock now. The way it throws its neck from front to back makes it look like it is reconsidering its decision to visit Number 225 again. It succumbs to wisdom and hops back in the direction from where it came.

Josephine shifts uncomfortably. She is still studying me. Then suddenly she says, “But what are you even supposed to do? Our girl has gone and had her baby and has left with the man. Does she expect you to now go and pull down their door and demand for the baby? What will you even do with the baby?”

I do not feel the need to respond.

“Why are you even so calm?” She says.

I tilt and face her and smile. She cannot sustain eye contact with me. It is in the evenings like this back home that I would take to the top of the guava tree in my father’s compound. I like the mean rootedness of trees. They bloom rain or shine and are unfazed by wind or gusts. They may lose a leaf here or there, and sometimes a branch would snap under harsh conditions, but they always rejuvenate and remain. In my delicate moments, I took to the tree and I was there until I felt rejuvenated. My worries float away as it ventilates. My mother had said that the only thing she was grateful for as I was leaving the village was that I would stop nestling atop trees. It terrified her that I could always be found there even as a child. They said in the village that it was even more unusual to see a six-foot young man finding the top of trees accommodating when there were girls to chase. I sigh and take a deep breath.

“It doesn’t make sense right? I mean, I’m not making sense,” Josephine says. She bites her lips and continues, “You know, Maya has made her choice. I know you are not a saint but neither is she. You do not put a man in such a situation. I mean… what a mess! You just remain cool okay? When your child grows up, he will look for you.”

With that, Josephine gets up, hesitates and then says, “You will move away too right? Your boys are gone, Jide and Funbi married last week. You know that right?

I nod.

“Maya has happened, Achike gone too. Not to talk of all those that went in the past both on foot and in coffins.”

“Alhaji has sold the house. This time, we all don’t have a choice.”

Alhaji Sirika’s red cherookee jeep stutters to a stop as and he hops out with three Asian men in tow. Without speaking to anyone he takes the men on a tour of the house and at the end of it they stop at the frontage and Alhaji Sirika announces loudly:

“Ehm…all of you see your new Landlord o! Mr Cho. Say whatever you want to say. They will all hear.”

There are not many people on the frontage now. But Alhaji knows what he is saying. Whatever is about to happen will be transmitted in no time to everyone who needs to know. It is Number 225 Katakata Street after all.

The oldest-looking of the three Asian men clears his throat and stutters, “I buy house I change house for warehouse all you pack go!”

“Have you people heard? Please go and kill yourselves somewhere else. No more. A lawyer will come and serve you official notices. Your rent will be returned for those who still have time. May God never let me come in contact with human beings like you again.”

Alhaji Sirika hurries back into his car together with Mr Cho and his compatriots. We all know we will never see him again.

A commotion erupts in number 225.

“How did you know Alhaji had sold the house?” Josephine says to me as neighbours scamper.

“I did not know.”

“You said it just before he drove in.”

“Did I?”

Josephine regards me for a long time, shudders and walks away.

Mr Cosmas joins me at the soak-away. We sit in silence and observe. We watch as the news of our final eviction notice develops legs and moves from room to room and all the crannies of Katakata Street in no time.

Continue reading https://katakatastreet.com/2023/12/28/one-day-at-a-time-final-chapter/

Why he/she is not responding on WhatsAPP?

hafizfarhan:


Why he/she is not responding on WhatsAPP?

Who?

It's been an heaven of a ride, from the day you stroke the pen and let our realities danced to the ballads, sonnets and satire intricately woven from the deepest part of your soul.

I say thank you sir for this sweet journey, it was worth it and until when next you spare another episode (perhaps), the feets that marched out of Katakata street who have found a place on Nairaland will come back for one last dance.

As the Yorubas would say, Ire o!

hafizfarhan:


Why he/she is not responding on WhatsAPP?

You mean the writer?

All good things come to an end.
Thank you Centimo.

Centino, thank you for this masterpiece bro. It was worth the years. I wish you the very best i your future projects, can't wait to read the next masterpiece from the great Centino

hafizfarhan:


Why he/she is not responding on WhatsAPP?

Me?

jojothaiv:
It's been an heaven of a ride, from the day you stroke the pen and let our realities danced to the ballads, sonnets and satire intricately woven from the deepest part of your soul.

I say thank you sir for this sweet journey, it was worth it and until when next you spare another episode (perhaps), the feets that marched out of Katakata street who have found a place on Nairaland will come back for one last dance.

As the Yorubas would say, Ire o!

Even I can't quite weave it like this. Thanks man. Great lines.

Jojodjo:
All good things come to an end.
Thank you Centimo.

You're welcome

Hydriss:
Centino, thank you for this masterpiece bro. It was worth the years. I wish you the very best i your future projects, can't wait to read the next masterpiece from the great Centino

You're welcome. There's another on the way for sure. Just like with 225 Katakata Street, I let it bubble and simmer within for a while before I let it out. We're almost there. There'll be an announcement in the new year.

Centino:


You're welcome. Surely there's another on the way. Just like with 225 Katakata Street, I let it bubble and simmer within for a while before I let it out. We're almost there. There'll be an announcement in the new year.

Awesome, I'm sure it will also be a good read. Keep up the good work champ

Mr cosmas a ghost thanks centino for dis great master piece centino

Ophixialtohny:
Mr cosmas a ghost thanks centino for dis great master piece centino

You're welcome.

Centino:

You're welcome.

Any Epilogue to finish it up patapata??

Centino, it's been a very long ride and every journey was followed both here and on the website. I really want to commend you on this master piece and also to commend you on knowing when to throw the hat in. Looking forward to you next piece, do make sure to tag us.

do4luv14:



Any Epilogue to finish it up patapata??

Nor tempt me bros. For you, YINKS89, tsharp and a some others I'll probably keep writing. But had to kill off my favorite character to make sure I don't come back. The story had become my life. Even when I wasn't writing it I was writing it. Will do many more in my life time but 225 Katakata Street will always have a special place.

YINKS89:
Centino, it's been a very long ride and every journey was followed both here and on the website. I really want to commend you on this master piece and also to commend you on knowing when to throw the hat in. Looking forward to you next piece, do make sure to tag us.

Didn't even see this before mentioning you in do4luv14 reply. Thanks YINKS89. You're top 3 in my followers list from the first pages. Even if I post in New York Times I'll always tag my Nairaland community. Y'all are wonderful. Indeed it's high time. But I'll be back.

I feel sad already.

What can I say?

Thank you Centino the centimetre

Centino:


Nor tempt me bros. For you, YINKS89, tsharp and a some others I'll probably keep writing. But had to kill off my favorite character to make sure I don't come back. The story had become my life. Even when I wasn't writing it I was writing it. Will do many more in my life time but 225 Katakata Street will always have a special place.

More than special, I finally decoded Mr Kingsley word's,, after that Assignment episode with NDI,

had been a constant here and on the site always refreshing for new update,


More GRACE bro

Centino:


Didn't even see this before mentioning you in do4luv14 reply. Thanks YINKS89. You're top 3 in my followers list from the first pages. Even if I post in New York Times I'll always tag my Nairaland community. Y'all are wonderful. Indeed it's high time. But I'll be back.

we are honored to be a part of this success and I also want to tell you that we would always be supportive of your other works coz you have proved beyond doubt to be one of the best at what you do

SunFlow:
I feel sad already.

What can I say?

Thank you Centino the centimetre

My man! Thanks for all the support online and offline. You guys made it happen. Until next time.

The best part of this is that this wonderful story did not end up as one of the abandoned ones. Very many times it almost felt as if that was what will happen.

Thank you for seeing it through to the end. As much as I love the story I believe it is the right decision to end it and to end it now.

This is the best story here no matter what anyone says and I'm happy to have been a part of it from page 1.

As for the conclusion, whatever the outcome of Ndi and Maya could have been it would still be fine. It was that complicated. The romantics would love this ending.

Mr Cosmas. He was too good to be a human so fair enough. When he did not knack anybody in that compound I suspected him. Very poignant final words there too. It was also typical Centino to finish off leaving us scratching our heads. Well done boss. As The others have said, do carry us along wherever you go. You made the last 6 years beautiful for us and you always deserve our support.

tsharp:
The best part of this is that this wonderful story did not end up as one of the abandoned ones. Very many times it almost felt as if that was what will happen.

Thank you for seeing it through to the end. As much as I love the story I believe it is the right decision to end it and to end it now.

This is the best story here no matter what anyone says and I'm happy to have been a part of it from page 1.

As for the conclusion, whatever the outcome of Ndi and Maya could have been it would still be fine. It was that complicated. The romantics would love this ending.

Mr Cosmas. He was too good to be a human so fair enough. When he did not knack anybody in that compound I suspected him. Very poignant final words there too. It was also typical Centino to finish off leaving us scratching our heads. Well done boss. As The others have said, do carry us along wherever you go. You made the last 6 years beautiful for us and you always deserve our support.

My man tsharp. I know how many updates I did just because of your prompting. Yes you were there from page 1 and have barely missed an episode even on the site. Thank you. I told EkopSparoAyara (who no one has yet matched in detailed analysis of episodes he read) that I'll fly down to whatever city you are and have a beer with you. Same with him too. You guys been too much.

Centino:


My man tsharp. I know how many updates I did just because of your prompting. Yes you were there from page 1 and have barely missed an episode even on the site. Thank you. I told EkopSparoAyara (who no one has yet matched in detailed analysis of episodes he read) that I'll fly down to whatever city you are and have a beer with you. Same with him too. You guys been too much.

Thanks boss. Will be honoured to host you. Pls check your email.

Omo, Nairaland

You finally took the bold step to end this story. Kudos to you for making that bold decision.

I don't see 'Freke doing anything significant with his life anymore. I had already lost hope in the dude a long time ago. Unfortunately, he still wallows in self pity. His dreams will continue to be that - dreams - unless he picks himself up and makes an effort. That's why Jonjo will always continue to lord over him as a man and have his "girl" and "love of his life". Even little Clementina that he so stupidly decided to let his manhood think for him over still listened to Jonjo's advice over his. 'Freke wil continue to remain irrelevant as a man except he changes his ways. That's his true awakening. Unfortunately he currently sounds like someone who would one day, sooner rather than later, find himself somewhere on the 3rd mainland bridge staring down at the waves below, gathering the courage before taking the final plunge.

By the way, what happened to the sultry Lizzy? The last time she was mentioned was when she took 'Freke to the prophetess and came back without a word to him.

keelsors:
You finally took the bold step to end this story. Kudos to you for making that bold decision.

I don't see 'Freke doing anything significant with his life anymore. I had already lost hope in the dude a long time ago. Unfortunately, he still wallows in self pity. His dreams will continue to be that - dreams - unless he picks himself up and makes an effort. That's why Jonjo will always continue to lord over him as a man and have his "girl" and "love of his life". Even little Clementina that he so stupidly decided to let his manhood think for him over still listened to Jonjo's advice over his. 'Freke wil continue to remain irrelevant as a man except he changes his ways. That's his true awakening. Unfortunately he currently sounds like someone who would one day, sooner rather than later, find himself somewhere on the 3rd mainland bridge staring down at the waves below, gathering the courage before taking the final plunge.

By the way, what happened to the sultry Lizzy? The last time she was mentioned was when she took 'Freke to the prophetess and came back without a word to him.

Interesting take.

I wouldn't know what would happen for sure with Freke but your postulation is tenable. It was not an easy ending to find and like tsharp noted it all could have turned out anyhow and it would still be OK. I'm satisfied though that it is still making us think.

Lizzy was out of the picture from that moment. That was the plan. Ending the story started from that chapter I think. One by one canceling out some major characters. Having been privy to everything the prophetess told Ndifreke she knew there was no longer a place for her so she quietly left the scene.

Thanks for summation man.

Thank you Centino!

Alhamdulillah, joined this page around 3-4 years ago, really grateful you found a way to finish what you started unlike many stories here, thanks so much, looking forward to your next story.

Centino:


Nor tempt me bros. For you, YINKS89, tsharp and a some others I'll probably keep writing. But had to kill off my favorite character to make sure I don't come back. The story had become my life. Even when I wasn't writing it I was writing it. Will do many more in my life time but 225 Katakata Street will always have a special place.

Well done Centino! This story is one of the best I read since Sophocles. The ending is perfection. Mr Cosmas could not have been a normal human. He seemed to be operating on a higher plane. Always the voice of reason. More like an angel that came to offer guidance and borrowed a human form to do so. Thanks so much Centino. More ink to your pen!

Centino thank you so much for finding it worthy to end this story for us, i really appreciate you for this. I knew mr Cosmas was not a normal human like us. Thanks so much once again brother