When I was younger, happiness was trekking 26 minutes to the bank of Tin-Can Island. I did not know how to swim but would enjoy the view of the boys wrapping marijuana for sell. Some of the boys would switch from selling hemp to dazzling free spectators at the open field. Before I knew the count of numbers, Ajegunle had two foremost playing field, Adidas and Maracana. Over time, dilapidated and collapsed schools infrastructure made way for what became other training pitch.

In one year, around 7:30, I left home for Maracana to savour the atmospheric marijuana and the free football. That morning, I wore only my purple pants and drove a motorcycle tyre. At the pitch, bigger boys sent me errands to get marijuana. Interestingly, the younger me did not see anything wrong in mature men choosing to extinguish hungers with smoke. It was their choice and when I had my way, I will dance with the shaking smoke to the bank of the lagoon to watch the tide and to view a queue of ships docking at the port.

One day, the spirit of my village people overwhelmed me and I decided to learn how to swim. Foolish me. I sheepishly walk into the lagoon until I began to float. The lagoon pulled and pushed me until I was waltzing with the sea goddess. Back then, I believed in a lot of superstition - and I still do - and I was sure that I was dancing salsa with a mermaid. The lagoon drove me from Maracana to the back of the fence of what is now Bola Ige Millennium High School. I felt like I had disappeared, a little dizzy and a little tipsy.

I walked out of the lagoon and sat on the sandy bank, my purple pants, dripping of salty water. The sands dried and absorbed some of the water in my pants. The lagoon blew and invited me to swim more, I rebuked it and focus on the crabs. The crabs however do not appreciate my presence. Like coy secondary school girls, they would tease me to bank and then run to their holes. It was funny how they never - even for once - miss the road to their home. Fifty three times I attempted to catch one but I couldn't. Out of desperation, I tried digging one out. I failed, as the lagoon tide constantly wash away the fragile sandy door.

A sudden hunger pang pinched the walls of my stomach. The sun was already atop my brain, frying whatever was left of the lagoon water on my body. I picked up myself and walked home - my walk now extended to 32 minutes because of my sudden and unplanned teleportation. On the way, I realised that I had forgotten my cherished motorcycle tyre at Maracana. When/ if I get home, I imagined my mother would kill me. It'd taken her six days to replace my last stolen motorcycle tyre. Back then, motorcycle tyres were a cherished toy that kids were even allowed to pack in their homes, and I did have my parking garage behind the wooden cupboard.

Arriving home, I discovered that my mother and sisters had gone out to hawk. My food - a plate of rice topped with Egusi soup - was on the table. 150 kobo, the money for lunch was underneath the plate. I pocket the coins and the ate like a Wolf. My dad arrived with his traditional frown, he was the definition of a super villain. He watched me, like an examiner suspicious that I had cheated. He walked slowly, unsure if to use the leather belt I was now accustomed or a worn out cane for his interrogation. He sat on the bed and watch me like a leopard would watch a prey. My pounded like a Tiger Generator running out of fuel.

I was sure that he intended to kill me - which I did not mind - but I did not know if I would prefer being alive in that room with him, pondering my fate in fear. He allowed me to finish my food, without interrupting. Then I quickly rush to fetch him a bucket of well water - for his bath. Then I polish his shoes, then sun-dried them before brushing them to sparkling black. That afternoon, I was overdoing things like a teenager trying to impress a visiting crush. By the time I was back in the room, dad was asleep and I was relieved. Whatever I may receive would be deposited in my future punishment. But right now, I have 1 naira and 50kobo to spend before mother arrives in the evening.

The End.

Written by: Semiu Adefemi Adegbenle (Femiblaze)

Thanks for Reading..

Nice..enjoyed it

Interesting

Lalalasticlala myd44 Kindly check if this is worthy of front page

Lalalasticlala myd44 Kindly check if this is worthy of front page

Guy, where you dey na, na my abété be that na

Which part of Ajegunle? ☺️

Ojoku na

femiblaze:
Which part of Ajegunle? ☺️

Na ojora I go beside mokoya the back of millennium

muhammed50:
Ojoku na Na ojora I go beside mokoya the back of millennium

Beautiful school. I'm familiar with your school. We use to pass through Millennium to go there. Some of my friends actually attended Ojora. Akpan Sunday, Adams Kazeem, Obot Wisdom and Shade.
Though, It's actually been long I last visited Ajegunle. We relocated sometimes around 2008. So, what I wrote is largely fragments of what I remembered.
I attended Oluwa Memorial Junior Secondary School.

Interesting,,,,,,,,,. Tnks Sir

femiblaze:

Beautiful school. I'm familiar with your school. We use to pass through Millennium to go there. Some of my friends actually attended Ojora. Akpan Sunday, Adams Kazeem, Obot Wisdom and Shade.
Though, It's actually been long I last visited Ajegunle. We relocated sometimes around 2008. So, what I wrote is largely fragments of what I remembered.
I attended Oluwa Memorial Junior Secondary School.

OK guy