TEN
‘Zoo-gini? Which one is that?’ Uchechi’s nose was wrinkled as though the mere sound of the course itself added a foul smell to the air.
She did not wait for her daughter’s response before she went on. ‘Why didn’t you fill the doctor I asked you to fill?’
Again, she did not wait.
‘Okay, since you don’t want doctor again, why didn’t you fill engineer, or even lawyer? After all, Mama Nkechi’s second daughter, Uzoma, don’t you know her? She is in one of the universities studying lawyer now. And she is only a few years older than you.’
She turned her eyes round the room, as if to be sure every object in the sitting room was hearing her, bearing witness: the framed photo of Jesus Christ on the wall with one hand on His glittering heart and two fingers of the other hand held up, the wide Toshiba TV with two long, silver arms of antenna forming a V on it, the faded-red armchairs and the centre table covered with a white lace fabric.
Her father sat down on the chair, looking on in silence.
Adaku was more interested in what he had to say. Uchechi, her mother, she knew would always be Uchechi.
Now Uchechi was quiet too, staring at her husband. She has said enough; it was now time for Papa Adaku to buoy her comment by agreeing with her. It wouldn’t change anything because there was almost nothing that could be done now, except, maybe, to ask Adaku to wait for next year to retake JAMB, but his agreeing with her would somehow make her feel better.
Mollified.
But Onochie was taking too long to speak.
‘Papa Adaku, won’t you say something?’
‘Sit down, Ada,’ Mr Onochie said, finally
Ada obeyed immediately. Her father was the exact opposite of her mother. Most times, this made her exceptionally glad, for she’d always known only an Onochie could marry an Uchechi.
‘With my little education,’ her father started, ‘I know the course has to do with animals. Can you tell us more?’
She was staring at her father now, examining his features; his dark and thick brows, his bright-white eyes, straight nose and finely-cut lips, all in a clay-coloured complexion. She admired him.
‘Adaku?’
She stirred. ‘Papa, Zoology is the study of animals. I love biology and Aunty Rose once said it’s a very nice course.’
She felt a twinge of guilt for having lied. Aunty Rose, their Biology teacher in Community, praised her each time she did well in a test or practical. One day, she told her that a biological course would be her best bet in the university. But Aunty Rose never specifically mentioned Zoology.
‘Hey!’ Uchechi clapped her hands. ‘So when others are going about calling themselves mothers of doctors, lawyers and engineers, what will I call myself? Eh, Adaku, ngwa nu, tell me, what? Mother of an animal trainer, onye ozu aturu—shepherd!’
She looked at the other picture of Jesus Christ hanging on the wall opposite her where He was surrounded by white, woolly sheep, as if to be sure she hadn’t upset Him with her comment.
‘Will you be able to get a job with the degree at all?’ her father asked.
‘Yes, Papa. There are many places one with a Zoology degree can find employment.’ She swallowed hard, hoping she hadn’t lied again.
‘Ok. Go inside and celebrate your admission. Everything happens for a reason.’
‘Thank you, Papa.’
She hugged him and took the other way out, as if scared Uchechi’s disappointment might drive her to violence and she’d strike her.
***
Ada was surprised to see how different the school looked now. It had only been some months that she was here to write the Post-JAMB exam.
The paths have turned overgrown and many new buildings were under construction.
At the Bus Stand, she stopped a plump girl in a blue skirt to ask for direction.
The girl’s skirt seemed to have bundled her hips and thighs into one round body part.
‘Please where can I find First Bank, I need to pay my Acceptance Fee,’ Adaku asked her.
The girl turned excited. ‘Are you a new student too?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Which department?’
Adaku wished she hadn’t asked. ‘Zoology,’ she mumbled out.
‘Geology?’
‘No. Zoo. Zoo-logy.’
The girl’s eyes flew wide in excited surprise. ‘Serious? Zoology?’ Unlike Adaku, she called Zu-logy and not Zuo-logy. ‘I’m in Zoology too!’
‘Really?’
‘Yes!’
Adaku found something melt in her. She never imagined it’d be that easy to find another Zoology, least of all one that screamed it so boldly.
She asked the girl her name and she said Mary.
‘You?’
‘Adaku.’
As they walked to the bank together, she asked Mary if she is happy to have been given Zoology.
Zoology is a course schools give after all, not one people choose by themselves.
‘My dear, this is the fifth year I’d be writing JAMB,’ Mary said. ‘I am tired.’
Now Ada wished she had asked her something else.
‘The funny thing is that I was given this exact course two years ago, but I was busy pursuing Medicine. Shebi I would have been in 200-level by now.’
Not knowing what to say, Ada shook her head slowly.
She was beginning to understand it now. Zoology is one of the courses people ran away from at first, only to come back to when they are ‘tired.’
Somehow, she found herself suddenly different. Her Zoology had come first and fresh, and she was accepting it in its prime. She hadn’t gone ahead to continue trying the other courses. She has not become tired and desperate.

She managed to twist this feeling into little hope. Because she wasn’t ‘exhausted’ yet, she was going to do something different with her Zoology. Something more energetic.
She and Mary entered the bank.
As they stood in the long line with other newly-admitted students, she wondered why they had to pay to accept an offer of admission they’d written two tests for in the first place.
More like collecting money for the prize win after a strenuous competition.
The cashier was exceptionally nice to her. He was slim and dark. His grey shirt was well ironed, but she thought it was too broad for him. His black tie matched the shirt well too, but she thought it too long.
In her eyes, no other man was, could be, perfect. Only one.
But when the cashier revealed a set of clean white teeth in a cute smile, she saw, for a split second, a little of Obinna in him.
‘Hmm, Zoology,’ he said, looking at her details on the screen. ‘I read Botany.’
She smiled back at him.
Later, she would come to learn about the other equally unattractive cousins of Zoology: Botany and Parasitology. And the diligent wannabe—Microbiology. The proud Biochemistry and the mendicant Science Education.
Glimpsing on her smile, the cashier’s broadened, like her smiling back offered him great satisfaction. Perhaps it had.
She has a very cute smile, after all.
He called her zoologist as he handed her her printout. She said thank you.
‘Can I have your number,’ he asked.
She smiled at him and walked away.
Outside the bank, as Mary battled to get reception on her ‘open-and-close’ Bird GSM, it occurred to her that she’d be needing one too.
She wished Obinna had one now. Instead of handwritten letters, they’d hear each other’s voices.
Her father had bought two Trium GSM phones some months ago, for himself and her mother. But Uchechi had rejected hers saying she doesn’t have the time to be saying hello to anybody, that whoever so wanted to speak to her should come to her house.
She called GSM a new form of madness.
So she had given the phone to her, but Adaku never thought about using it. The only person she would have been calling had no number.
Or does he now?
She concluded she was going to start using the phone when she got home. After all, she was going to need it now that she was moving into the hostel.
***
Ahanna was no longer smiling as he walked into the compound.
At the corridor, Obinna was bent over the round, green stove, turning the rice with a long spoon. He’d made it two days ago. A Jollof rice that came out yellower than intended, due to inadequate use of tomatoes.
They had had to gather everything with them to complete Chief’s money.
‘Welcome,’ he said as Ahanna walked past.
He wanted to ask him if he succeeded in contacting those he’d gone out to call, but Ahanna had disappeared through the door before he could turn again.
Some minutes later, he came into the room with Ahanna’s plate of rice and meat and sachet water.
Ahanna had taken two spoons of the rice when he dropped on the carpet beside him and asked, ‘So were you able to contact them?’
Ahanna hummed, mouth bulged with food.
Obinna concluded the hum meant yes and said ok.
The next morning, Ahanna told him it was now time to go and confirm.
Obinna gave him a curious glance before bending to carry the bag.
At Alaba, they couldn’t locate the shops they’d visited before with Okechukwu.
The shop line looked different, as though people had left and new people came in.
They finally entered a shop. A young man in white singlet and jean trousers rolled up to his knees sat on a plastic chair in the shop fanning himself with newspaper.
Ahanna greeted him and asked him if he knew Mr Kayode, the name of the man that had told them he’d pay double for the powder.
The young man’s eyes went narrow in thought and then he shook his head. ‘There is no Mr Kayode here.’
Ahanna turned to leave, but Obinna held him. In a quiet voice, he asked the man if he knew about any baking powder that sells for N100, 000 per bag.
‘Hundred thousand for baking powder?’ The boy was staring at them with a crooked frown. ‘Can I see the powder?’ he said finally.
Obinna brought out one bag and gave him. He opened the sachet slowly and took a bit of the powder with one finger.
Smelling it, he started to laugh. ‘This is custard na!’
Something hammered Obinna’s chest. ‘Custard, are you sure?’
The boy put his white-stained finger to his nose. ‘Smell it na! Custard! Vanilla flavour!’
He continued to laugh and then started to call people around, to come and see another mugus that had fallen. The most recent mugus.
Ahanna disappeared.
Obinna bent and carried the bag, but couldn’t find Ahanna again. The people that had gathered stared pitifully at him. The women among them murmured consoling words. Some of the men laughed hard in amusement.
Sweat poured off him. He felt like crying. He prayed the ground would just open up and swallow him.
At home, Ahanna was lying down on the floor, wearing only his boxers. His eyes were wet and reddish.
Obinna dropped the bag by the corner of the wall. He put a small quantity of water in the kettle and lit the stove.
He dissolved a small part of the powder in a stainless bowl. When the water boiled, he held the kettle to the bowl.
He stopped pouring when the mixture started to turn yellow and he confirmed that it was really custard. He took the bowl outside and flung it away with the hot food.
Back in the room, he couldn’t find Ahanna again. ‘Nwanne!’
He ran outside, to the backyard. Ahanna was sitting on the well.
He joined him. He battled with what to say.
But Ahanna started before he could put anything through.
‘Can I tell you?’
Obinna shifted a little closer. ‘I’m listening.’
‘I did not come to Lagos to sell clothes on the ground in Oshodi. I came to this city with five hundred thousand naira.’
Obinna’s eyes came wide. ‘Five hundred thousand?’
Ahanna nodded. ‘Papa sold our land. Chief Ozua is building on it now.’
‘Your land in Agu-oye.’
Ahanna nodded again.
‘So what happened to the money?’
‘I came to Lagos four years ago. On August 2001. Nwoye brought me. He owned a boutique in Ikeja then. By December that same year, my own shop was already up, just next to his.’
Obinna listened with all attention.
‘Sales were to begin the next year. But something awful happened in Lagos on the 27th day of January, 2002.’
‘What happened?’
‘It was a Sunday. Nwoye and I had just returned from church. It was the time my belief was still strong.’
‘What happened?’
‘We were about to start eating when we heard the first boom! A great sound like the sky fell to earth.’
Obinna’s brows came together suddenly.
‘The glass shattered. The roof was vibrating. And then there was another. And another. The entire house shook. Nwoye and I ran down. The road was already filled with people. Everyone was screaming, running in all directions. Many were trampled. Many were hit. Then a whole lot of others drowned in the canal.’
Tears flowed down Ahanna’s face now.
A trickle sped down Obinna’s cheek even though he did not yet understand.
‘What was happening?’ he asked.
‘Many claimed it was a foreign attack. Some said it was Bin Laden attacking Nigeria. Others called it end time. It was later that the real truth came out. The bombs they stored in the cantonment caught fire and went off, every single one of them.’
Ahanna sniffled.
‘Nwoye’s swollen body was among the hundreds pulled out from the Oke-Afa canal the next day. A pregnant woman in our compound was also found. There was a little boy in the compound, his name was Ahmed. He was the one that first called me Papilo. Once, he told me he’d grow to become a great player just like me. That unlike me, he’d pursue his dream. He’d make sure it came true. He would play for the national team and be like Kanu. But that he would always remember me. His first coach. I believed so much in him. I didn’t believe it was his body when I saw it, dark, swollen and devoid of life.’
Ahanna’s shoulders heaved, his entire face soaked with tears. Obinna was crying too.
‘I lost everything. The shop was razed down.’
Obinna took his hand and pressed tightly.
Ahanna looked at him and gave him a slight nod, but his tears did not stop coming.

‘I thought I wasn’t going to survive it.’ He sniffled. ‘But I did. I survived. But this one, brother, I am no longer sure. I am not sure any more.’
Obinna drew closer and Ahanna clung to him, vibrating with tears. Obinna rubbed his back. ‘We will survive,’ he told him. ‘Nwanne, we will survive.’...........I need to know if peeps ar enjoying dis story and following (1 million comments)

1 million comment?? OP we go just hand over the keys to NL to you.
Please post more follow ups.

Swissheart:
Hmmn......sweet

Hoping to make your full acquaintance dear

Following .....nice one

Adaku pointed from the taxi window. ‘That’s the one.’
Soon, the white 504 Peugeot came to a halt in front of a black gate. On the wall beside the gate MILAN HOSTEL was printed in white.
‘Is this the place?’ her mother asked.
‘Yes.’
Her father came down and her mother followed.
Adaku carried her snake-skin hand bag and joined them.
The taxi man said he needed to park well and they stepped aside as he did.
He came down and opened the boot. He carried out her large wood cupboard first. A brand new family-size mattress was tied to the car roof.
Adaku walked to the car. She was about to lift the big bag that contained cooking utensils when her mother waved at her to step away.
‘Nne,hapu— leave it,’ she said.
The taxi man carried the bag out. Pots, plates and spoons jangled as he lowered it to the ground.
The taxi driver and her father were taking out the yam tubers together when two male students; one on a shirt and boxers and the other a singlet and jean trousers came to help.
They were dark, slim and surprisingly of the same height, though they did not share any facial resemblance.
Ada glimpsed on the face they made when they saw the food items: over a dozen yam tubers and still counting, half bag of rice, half bag of garri, beans and cartons of Indomie. It was an expression she recognized, that subtle show of surprise tinged with mocking amusement.
They greeted her parents with lively smiles and lifted her things.
She followed and showed them her block and then her room: Block D, Room 8.
When all was inside, she thanked them.
‘Onoo,choolufa ife nu—find something for them,’ her mother said.
She used Onoo, shortened from Onochie, in situations like this.
Her father dipped into his left pocket and pulled out a bundle of N500 notes. He gave each boy a note and the eager smiles hanging around their faces spread over. They chorused ‘Thank you, Sir’ with a bow and walked away.
‘Nne, there is work here o,’ her mother said, looking round the room and the bags on the floor.
‘I think you and Papa should start going now,’ Ada said. ‘I will take care of this.’
Her mother shook her head. ‘Mbanu,olu ehika— there is so much to be done.’
She stared at her mother. She knew Uchechi. There is so much work to be done, but she’d rather keep announcing it than bend down to touch anything.
She knew she couldn’t wait to get back home. She knew she still wanted to go to the market. She’d complained about why it had to be on an Nkwo, of all days, that she’d be leaving for school.
Her father had asked her to stay if she didn’t want to go, but she shrugged and said, ‘Mbanu, how can I choose market over my own daughter?’
‘Nne, are sure you don’t need help?’ Uchechi asked her again.
‘If you want to help her unpack, then do so!’ her father barked. ‘Stop asking stupid questions!’
Uchechi opened her palms. ‘Do I know where to begin?’
‘Start anywhere!’
Now she raised a hand. ‘Eh-eh! Papa Adaku,bikokwa, don’t shout at me.’ Her voice dropped to a murmuring. ‘I know you still think you are at home. This is university o.’
‘It’s ok, Papa,’ Adaku said. ‘I will be fine.’
Her father pulled out the bundle of money and gave her.
‘Thank you, Papa.’
Her mother unzipped her yellow purse and brought out four N200 notes. ‘Nne,tikoo— join this too.’
She collected the money and thanked her.
Uchechi leaned toward her and whispered, ‘Okwa I chetalu? Hope you still remember all I told you?’
She nodded.
Her mother nodded too. ‘Good. Once they come, tell them you are married, inu? If they persist, oso ozigbo—run fast! Do you hear?’
‘Yes, Mama.’
‘Good. Don’t even give them chance. You see those two that came to help us take your things inside, don’t think they are your friends o. Don’t give anybody chance. That’s why I asked your father to give them something so that you don’t feel like you owe anybody. You don’t owe them, inu?
Another full nod.
‘Good. We will be leaving now.’
‘Stay well, Ada,’ her father said. He hugged her.
Her mother opened her arms wide and hugged her too. She held on a little longer as if it was a competition and she needed to be sure she won.
She kicked the side of the Indomie carton as she turned. She hissed and twisted her face back to Ada. ‘Nne, are you sure the work won’t be too much for you?’
‘Mama, I will be fine.’
‘Mama Adaku, let’s go!’ Her father had opened the door.
‘Nne, let me run. Your father has started again.’
‘I wonder how he will sleep this night,’ Uchechi was murmuring as she walked through the door. ‘I don’t know between the two of us who carried you in the womb for good nine months that he wants to start shedding…’

Adaku banged the door shut.
She inhaled deeply, leaning her back into the wall. Gently, she slid down till she dropped on the half bag of rice sitting to the wall. She shut her eyes.
A knock on the door jerked her eyes open.
She opened the door and two girls entered.
One wore a blue female singlet and tight lemon-coloured shorts and the other a multi-patterned gown that stopped at her laps.
‘Welcome, newbie!’ the one in gown said.
‘Thank you,’ Adaku said.
‘Welcome,’ the one in shorts said, looking round the room.
‘My name is Candy,’ the one in gown said.
‘I’m Debby,’ the other said.
‘I am Ada.’
‘Ada? Nice,’ Candy said.
Adaku looked at her. From her expression and the brusque manner she’d spoken, she knew the girl didn’t mean what she said.
She didn’t think her name was nice.
Adaku pushed her cupboard to the wall and lifted one Indomie bag on to the top.
It was Nweke that had made it for her. He’d used white wood as she requested.
Candy and Debby exchanged a look as they studied the things in the room.
‘So, A-d-a, don’t you have any other name?’ Candy asked.
‘No.’ Now her no was brusque too.
She did not like the way the slim girl had called her name, almost sounding as the ‘ada’ for ‘fall’, like she was a foreigner who did not know how to call Igbo names.
She also did not like the way she spoke her English...with a fake unidentified accent.
More angering to her was that the girl looked like someone from Nsukka.
Debby tried to smile. ‘Ada my dear, what department are you in?’
‘Zoology,’ Adaku said.
‘What?’ Candy again.
‘Zoology, don’t you know the course?’ Ada said, starting to unzip the bag that contained utensils.
Candy took a step to her. ‘You mean you are in zoology?’
‘Yes, what?’
‘Ha. Never seen anybody in that Department before.’
‘What is your own department?’ Adaku asked her.
‘Pub Admin.’
‘Ok.’
Debby put up her small smile again. ‘Anyways, Ada, we just came to say hi. We saw you and because you are pretty, we want you to be in our clique before the other girls come to steal you off.’ Her face flushed with pride. ‘Our clique is the classiest on campus.’
Ada was staring at her, no clear emotion on her face.
‘You should see it as a favour,’ Candy added.
‘Thank you,’ Ada said, finally.
‘We’ll leave you to get settled now,’ Debby said. ‘We will come back for you later.’
She nodded—a nod that meant more than agreement.
‘Bye, sis,’ Candy said, following Debby.
At the door, she heard Candy murmur to her friend, ‘There is so much work to be done here.’
Ada wondered if the slim girl was referring to the bags in her room or her.
***
The next day, the boys left back to Lekki very early in the morning.
On the way, Obinna concluded he was going strip Chief naked and sit on his big stomach while Ahanna counted the money he’d given back to them to be sure it was complete.
Ahanna knew better. He had told him at home that there was no need coming back, that they weren’t going to meet anybody.
Obinna had insisted. ‘Will he run with his house?’ he asked Ahanna.
Ahanna only shook his head, exhausted.
Obinna struck the gate again now. He swallowed hard and waited.
He looked at Ahanna. He was quiet, just looking.
He raised a hand to pound the gate again.
A voice came from inside.
‘Who is that?’ A square hole opened in the gate to reveal two eyes. ‘Yes? Who are you?’
Obinna stared back at the eyes. ‘Don’t you recognize us? We were here two days ago to meet Chief.’
The eyes blinked. ‘Chief? Which chief?’
‘Chief Adebayo na. Is this not Chief’s Adebayo’s house?’
‘Which Adebayo?’
‘Is this not Adebayo Street?’
‘This is Adebayo Street.’
Obinna bent further to the hole. ‘Number 11?’
‘Yes, Number 11, but I don’t know any Chief Adebayo.’
Obinna looked over the gate, as if looking for a way to climb it, or push it off so that they could enter. ‘Chief Adebayo is the owner of this house and street. We met with him here two days ago. He collected our money and gave us fake product.’
‘My friend, go away! The owner of this place lives in Abuja. Even, I have not met him in person since I started working here last year.’
‘Listen to me, your master is a criminal. A big thief! Two days ago, he collected one hundred and sixty thousand naira from us, one hundred and sixty thousand, only to supply us with fake goods!’
‘My friend, go and look for the person you gave your money. This is not a residential home!’

‘What do you mean this is not a residential home?’
‘This is a rental property. People come here and hold vacations, meetings or anything they want.’
Ahanna only stared, silent and distracted, as though only waiting for him to finish so that they’d go home.
Obinna pounded the gate. ‘Open this gate!’
Now Ahanna pointed.
Obinna followed his finger and saw on the wall - JUSTICE ADEBAYO HOMES AND RESORT.
Obinna was sure they hadn’t seen it there the first time they came.
Or had they?
‘Let’s go,’ Ahanna said to him. His voice was low.
On the bus ride back home, Ahanna did not say a single word. He kept his eyes out of the window the entire time.
It was only when they got down at Oshodi that he shook his head and muttered, ‘Chai.’
Obinna patted his back.
At home, they walked into their room quietly.
Ahanna barely responded to Shege’s greeting. The young man had shouted ‘Papilo!’ the way he often did to greet him, but Ahanna did not call him ‘Shege-Shege!’ the way he usually responded.
He merely raised his hand in a half-done wave and passed through the corridor.
Inside the room, he sat on the bed and pulled into the wall, legs crossed.
‘But, Nwanne, this is not fair o,’ Ahanna started to say. ‘This is not fair at all. Okey na my padi na. He was my brother. Will you ever do this kind of thing to me? Will you betray me like this?’
Obinna said nothing.
‘You won’t, I know. You are my brother. Is this what a brother should do to a brother?’
‘When is Baba Sule coming back?’ Obinna asked him instead.
Baba Sule was the landlord’s name. He needed to slap some reality back into Ahanna.
It appeared to have worked because Ahanna stopped lamenting and turned to him.
But he only stared and said nothing.
Obinna walked to the pot and dished him some Jollof rice.
He was eating when he walked outside to Kowepe’s kiosk and got him a chilled bottle of Coke.
When he finished the meal and coke, he lay down on the mattress.
He woke up hours later all sweaty.
He took off his shirt and picked the bucket.
From outside, Obinna heard him whistling to Fela’s ‘I No Be Gentleman At All’ as he drew up water from the well.
Afterwards, he carried the filled bucket to the back of the house to have his bath.
Baba Jude’s wife was at the other end, washing clothes when Ahanna pulled down his boxers.
The woman did not mind. She kept on with her washing and her humming, occasionally nudging the crying baby on her back.
Obinna has never seen the baby quiet before. He’d concluded the baby must have been inflicted with a strange crying disease.
In the evening, they went to Okey’s ‘yard’ in Isolo and discovered he had left. The neighbours said he never even lived there. It had been his cousin’s room.
On their way back, Ahanna stopped at Kowepe’s and bought two bottles of Star Lager.
In their room, as they drank the beer, he called Obinna a fool, laughing.
‘Nnaa, nwanne, you no be am o!’ he said. ‘You no be am at all. I come village carry you because I no say my brain no complete from day one make you for help me dey reason, you still come allow this nonsense people carry our money waka.’
He was smiling.
Obinna was smiling too, but within he wasn’t entirely amused. Guilt pricked him. He believed Ahanna was right.
He’d really acted stupidly.
He shouldn’t have kept quiet, should never have tossed his reservations about the shady deal aside in the beginning.
Baba Sule came the next day, looking really mean in the face. The tribal marks on his cheeks appeared to have enlarged in the anger on his face.
He didn’t respond to their greeting. He was already on the phone as Ahanna tried to explain what ordeal that had befallen them.
Soon, three men stormed into the compound. Baba Sule showed them their room and in a matter of minutes, all they had were scattered outside the compound.
They knelt down, begging, but Baba Sule never did as though he saw them. He was so different, mean, cold and stiff.
The other tenants stood by, watching in silence. They had dull expressions of pity on their faces, but none of them interfered.
For the first time since he came into the compound, Obinna saw Baba Jude’s baby quiet.
He found some satisfaction in that and inhaled cool air.
They slept in Ore’s room that night.

teadrake:

Hoping to make your full acquaintance dear

......owkay.

OP are we not going to have our regular dose today?

Swissheart:
......owkay.

Reply to your PM

THREAD CLOSED!
REASON: Nah only OP write, Nah only OP still they comment!!!

givan:
THREAD CLOSED!
REASON: Nah only OP write, Nah only OP still they comment!!!

u ar kinda rite buh I will still consider

TWELVE
Adaku was surprised to see so many people in the hall.
She had come as early as 8, yet she met no free seat.
She climbed a bench like other students at the back.
She craned her neck, but still could barely make out the slim woman whose thin voice saturated the hall.
The way she held the megaphone gave her more the impression of a Deeper Life preacher than a lecturer.
She was teaching GSS 101 and for the fifty minutes the lecture lasted Ada wrote down nothing.
The woman’s diction was odd already and the megaphone only made it worse.
When she got to Science Village for Physics 101, there was a bit of relief. Because she’d run all the way from Multi-Purpose Hall with the boys, she was able to get a space at the fourth row.
But the Physics lecturer did not make things any smoother. He taught like he was tired, like it meant nothing if he added a little zeal because they would still not understand.
Till they buy the ‘hand-out’ and the textbook which he co-authored.
At the end of the lecture, Adaku joined the other students hustling for past questions outside the classroom.
A slim man in shirt and trousers everyone called Voltage was selling the past questions.
‘Past questions, come and buy yours now!’ the man continued to scream, even as he’d already been swallowed up by a sea of desperate students. ‘Come and buy yours o! When you fail, don’t say I didn’t warn you o! Save yourself from carry-over with just N100 now! Don’t say Mr Voltage didn’t warn you o!’
Adaku was relieved when she finally bought one.
At BIO 101 later on, she finally was able to jot down something.
It was after the lecture, as the crowd filed out through the door that she heard someone screaming, ‘All Zoology students come to the back! All Zoo students come to the back!’
At the back of the building, Ada saw about forty students; the boys were loud and chatty while the girls all looked lost, as though they were yet to believe that they were in UNIZIK, to study Zoology, with these boys.
Mary saw her and came and hugged her.
‘Nne, kedu?’
‘Fine,’ Ada said. She adjusted the arm of Mary’s blouse that had slipped below her shoulder.
Mary pulled her cheeks down. ‘I came late o.’
‘I came late too,’ Ada said.
After they had introduced themselves, the tall, slim boy that had called the meeting, told them a lecturer would like to meet them later in the afternoon to talk to them about their induction.
It was at this meeting that Ada first met Felix.
***
This would be the second night the boys would be sleeping in Ore’s room.
Ore on her own has been nothing but nice.
Yesterday, she’d made them noodles in the evening. While Obinna was trying to be nice, telling Ore she shouldn’t have bothered, Ahanna picked his fork, dug out a high heap of pepper-garnished noodles and then threw into his mouth.
Obinna ended his goodwill message abruptly and picked his own fork.
Ore hasn’t complained of anything—even, Obinna was sure she might never, even if they stayed for months.
But he wasn’t really comfortable living with a girl.
When he talked to Ahanna about it, he nodded and told him that he too wasn’t all that relaxed and that they’d leave as soon what he was planning worked out.
‘What are you planning?’ Obinna didn’t hesitate to ask him.
‘Nwanne, we need to find a place, somewhere to keep our heads in the night. We can’t just carry our things and enter the street.’
Obinna stared and then nodded.
He heard a knocking sound from the corridor now. Someone had dropped a bucket.
Soon, the curtain parted and Ore entered the room. A faded-blue towel covered her damp body from the chest down.
Obinna was beside Ahanna on a mat near the wall opposite the bed. Ore slept on the bed— a small rectangular mattress covered with a flower-patterned sheet.
Obinna shifted her legs for Ore to pass, though there was actually no need.
Beside him, Ahanna, face to the wall, was already snoring.
He hated that he was still awake, seeing Ore now apply cream to her skin. He closed his eyes and decided not to open them again till morning.
But when Ore turned off the light, he opened his eyes. Great darkness has stuffed the room now.
He inhaled and closed back his eyes.
The night far gone, the feel of a hand on him called him back from sleep. He twisted and opened his eyes.
He saw nothing; it was thickly dark still and the hand was gone.
He lay back to sleep.
Some minutes gone, he felt something again. For a second, he thought it was Ahanna and wanted to smack his head.
But Ahanna’s snores were real, and Ahanna, he knew, was too straight to touch a fellow man in the night.
He quietly lay back to the mat, but this time kept alert.
Soon the trespassing hand came on him again and he caught it. From the softness of the skin, he could already tell who it was.
Ore.
He held the hand, not knowing what to do with it.
Ore left the hand for him and started using the other.
She reached into his boxers and covered his organ in her palm.
Obinna’s heart beat a little quicker as his mind worked fast to think of how best to handle the situation.
Then the worst happened.
Ore pulled out his organ, slid down to him and buried all of it inside her mouth.
A chill sped down Obinna.
His response was quick and in a matter of seconds, his organ was rock-stiff in Ore’s mouth.
Ore started sucking him like a baby at the mother’s nipple— soft, gentle and wet.
He hated that he responded, hated that another woman was able to arouse him so swiftly.
A Lagos woman, to say the least.
Sugary sands of pleasure spread round him as Ore continued to work on him, ever so wetly, yet so silently.
The pleasure soared. He was near there when he quickly reached and pulled his hard self out of Ore’s mouth.
Allowing himself to climax would mean complete betrayal to his wife.
He pulled up his boxers and walked out of the room. He stayed outside till morning.
Ore’s greeted him with discomfort in the morning. He saw it all over her, that uneasiness caused by guilt.
She did things hastier that usual and left earlier than she usually did.
Obinna talked to Ahanna in the afternoon.
‘Did you pour in her mouth?’ Ahanna asked him.
Obinna knocked his head. ‘Be wise for once, my friend!’
Ahanna continued to laugh. Then he quietened and told him he ‘bleeped up’. ‘Nwanne, you Bleep up o! Ordinarymmicha, wetin dey there na? It’s not like you did the main thing.’
‘When are we leaving?’ he asked Ahanna.
‘This evening,’ Ahanna said.

THIRTEEN
The boy, Felix Uzonna, was a quiet boy.
He was nothing like the other Zoo boys that scream and run about the class, telling jokes and calling each other animal names.
There was an ugly boy everyone calledMandrillus leucophaeus. A short round girl called a sea cow and a tiny talky one called a mole rat.
There was also a small aggressive girl called a jackal and a very short boy calledCricetomys gambianus.
Whatever you do or say in class instantly lands you with a Zoo name!
The Zoology lectures were different too. Often, the lecturers joined the students in the jokes and name calling so that classes easily turned noisy, and fun.
Adaku often joined in the jokes too. Not all UNIZIK students might have thought so, but she considered her department the most enjoyable in the entire school.
Because Felix had stood out with his quietness and transparent reading glasses, Ada was quick to notice him.
This attraction was spurred only by curiosity. A Zoo boy that behaved nothing like a Zoo boy.
She’d sat with him in the same seat at the induction meeting. That was her first encounter with him.
She had said hi as he shifted for her to sit and he returned it.
But it was when the class went frenzy after the lecturer announced that all new students would wear red to the induction that Adaku turned to really look at the boy.
While the other boys laughed and made jokes about the unusualness of the color red for such an event, Felix’s eyes, framed by his transparent glasses, remained on the open text book in his front: Integrated Principles of Zoology.
It didn’t surprise Ada so much that he seemed to be the only one that had bought the big textbook.
When she’d asked Mary what textbooks she would advise they buy, Mary had hissed in unconcern and said, ‘Which textbook? My dear, the most important thing is the hand-outs and past questions. They are all you need to pass.’
Because her father had already given her money for the books, she went to the bookshop near Royal Sound and bought Advanced Biology.
‘What do you think?’ she asked Felix.
The boy glanced at her. ‘What about?’
‘Wearing red to the induction.’
‘The lecturer said it signifies blood hence life.’
‘So you are okay with it?’
‘I’m more concerned about the significance.’
‘I don’t get.’
‘If I’m asked to represent life with a color, red is the last thing I’d use.’
Adaku’s lips remained open longer than she intended. ‘What color would you rather use? Green?’
‘Green is envy, red is passion. I’ll use blue.’
Adaku’s face twisted slightly in surprise. ‘Blue?’
‘Yes. Blue.’
Her eyes remained on him for some time. ‘What is your name?’
‘Felix. Yours?’
‘Ada.’
‘Ada, are you an ada?’
‘Yes.’ She somehow liked the sound of that, might be the way he’d said it. He spoke English like a Professor who an evil witch somehow magically turned back into a student.
‘Nice to meet you, Ada,’ Felix said.
‘Same here.’
He closed his textbook and stood. ‘Let me get to the library.’
Adaku nodded. Her eyes remained on him till he disappeared out of the class.
***
Back in the hostel, she was peeling yam in the tiny space in her room that was designated for cooking when she heard a knock on the door. ‘Who is that?’
‘It’s me!’
She opened the door and it was Debby.
‘Please give me two packs of Indomie,’ she said. ‘I will buy and give you back when Mama Onyinye opens.’
Ada stared at her. She wondered if it was hunger that had made her eyes look swollen. ‘Have you been sleeping?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you go to school at all?’
‘No. Please give me the Indomie first.’
She opened her cupboard and brought out two yellow noodle packs. ‘I’m making yam porridge,’ she said, extending the packs.
‘Wow, cool!’ Debby took the packs hurriedly from her. ‘Let me hold my stomach with the Indomie first.’
As she hurried out of the room, Adaku wondered if classy girls ate Indomie too.
And what was the stupid story about Mama Onyinye’s shop not being open. Even if one came out by midnight, that woman would still be in her shop ready to sell.
***
That same night she was reading—flipping through the pages of her Advanced Biology, searching for interesting coloured pictures— when a knock came on the door.
‘Come in!’
The door whined and went back, letting in Candy and Debby.
Surprisingly, she did not feel the slight discomfort she usually felt when they come into her room. She found herself nearly pleased they’d come.
They sat on the bed and she dished out the porridge she’d prepared on separate plates for them.
Candy requested for a fork instead of the spoon she brought the food with.
Ada watched the way she held the fork upright, taking the yam in tiny bits, as though it was something more sophisticated than yam she was eating. The slow movement of the fork, her sluggish chewing, all did not show she was eating yam, ordinary yam porridge.
‘Babe, you really can cook o,’ Debby said, her voice low from chewing.
Adaku smiled. At least, unlike Candy, she ate normally, with spoon and life.
She did not like that she’d called her babe though. The name made her feel different, as though she’d become like them, the girls who regularly missed lectures, wore bum shorts to the road and kept numerous boyfriends.
Candy dropped her plate; more than half the food was still on it. She took the sachet of water in a plate nearby and drank from it.
She drank so little, as though it hadn’t been yam she ate. ‘Ada, we have found a name for you,’ she said, casually, like Ada had known all along that they’d been searching for a name for her.
‘A name?’ Ada said, slight confusion and one other emotion on her face.
‘Yes, something befitting of our class.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Debby dropped her own plate and said, ‘Ada, I think you will like the name’, and then, ‘Thanks for the food’.
‘Which name? My name is Ada.’
‘You can keep Ada for your village people,’ Candy said. ‘From now on, your name is Berry.’
Adaku burst into laughter.
Surprise came over the two girls.
The laughter lowered and then she restarted it again.
Finally she halted, clutching her chest. ‘Wait, did you just say my new name is Berry? Berry, isn’t that the name of a fruit?’
Candy crossed her legs. ‘The fruitier the better, my dear.’
‘Don’t you like the name?’ Debby asked.
‘Please, if the problem is English, I have an English baptismal name.’
Candy rolled her eyes. ‘Which is?’
‘Agatha.’
Now it was the girls’ turn to laugh and they really did.
Then Candy suddenly got rid of her smiles and turned serious in the face. ‘From now on your name is Berry, take it or leave it.'
Adaku wondered if that was an order.
‘Now let’s move on to your mode of dressing,’ Candy went on.
Adaku looked over herself. ‘What about the way I dress?’
‘Nothing is wrong with it,’ Debby said. ‘But, Ada—’
‘Berry!’ Candy screamed.
‘Yes, Berry, dear,’ Debby corrected. ‘You need improvement. Your dresses are all so loose and long and full of space.’
‘I like the way I dress,’ Ada said.
‘We know you do, but society don’t,’ Debby said, tone now advisory.
‘Who is society?’
‘Ada, this is higher institution.’
‘So?’
‘What is wrong with this girl sef?’ Candy said. She uncrossed and crossed back her legs.
Adaku wondered if she was now angry, if it was now time to hold her by her thin shoulders and push her out of her room.

FOURTEEN
He counted the money again. It was N5000.
He reached into his bag again. At the same corner he found the money, he saw a piece of paper.
He spread it out and read it slowly.
Two sentences:
From Ore. I’m sorry.
He did not understand. He did not know what she was sorry for.
For touching him at night and taking his erect penis into her mouth?
He wasn’t really angry about that.
He liked her. Just not enough to cheat on his wife with her.
He told Ahanna about the money.
For once he didn’t make joke.
He told him what they needed to do. They have to start something with it. No matter how small.
But what can they really start with just N5000.
Obinna quickly provided the answer.
Ahanna liked the idea. He smiled, shook his hand and called him Bill Gates.
They bought a large bowl from a nearby plastics’ store.
Then Obinna followed the other Lacasera boys to the large store where they got their supplies from, and Ahanna to a big provisions’ store to get a carton of Gala.
Obinna bought ice cubes and poured over his Lacasera bottles now arranged in the new bowl. Ahanna tore open part of the Gala carton.
With that they entered the street and sales began.
It was tough at the beginning.
When the sun had risen far overhead, its stinging rays felt like fire on their skin.
They lost their voices screaming out to buyers.
Other more experienced Gala and Lacasera boys scowled at them and called them names.
They told Ahanna he was too old, and often made jokes that his Gala has expired. So he had to spend extra time convincing the intending buyer that the boys were only making joke.
But Obinna was expert at selling.
He did not scream too much. He knew he needed not to. With his cute smile and subtle eye movements he can have you feeling thirsty for his Lacasera when you are actually not.
They sold more when the traffic was heavy, with impatient drivers honking and cursing at one another.
‘Cold Lacasera?’ Obinna would say, presenting a bottle of amber-coloured liquid. He would smile at the person, his eyes slightly hooded, as though there was something in his Lacasera that he was sure the person needed to be whole again.
Mostly, the person would cast a curious a glance, and most times they’d call him and buy, including the drivers, but never their conductors who seem to share a strong affinity with water in transparent sachets.
He sold more at Barracks Bus Stop, so he went there often.
***
Some months passed and they had made a tenfold of the money they started with.
Ahanna trusted him with the money. He was scared another Okechukwu might come along someday and use juju or whatever it was they used on him before again, because he yet couldn’t believe he had fallen so stupidly for their prank at that time. With his over four years of staying in Lagos.
Obinna kept the money well.
Not even Ahanna knew where he kept it.
One Sunday afternoon, as he moved along the stiff traffic, the window of a black BMW rolled down and a beckoning hand appeared from it.
He ran to the clean car with his bowl of cold Lacasera and now Coke and Fanta and Pepsi—he’d gotten a bigger bowl too.
A dark man asked him to give the kids at the back what they wanted.
There were three kids and they all wanted Coke.
But he had only two left.
‘You can go, we’ll call another,’ the man said.
He took the two bottles he had and thrust into the kids’ hands.
Then he ran, flung his fingers into the bowl of a nearby trader to collect one more and threw out a N100 note at him.
The man paid him and he thanked him with a smile.
Probably it was the smile that made the man give him a second look.
He didn’t notice though; he was folding his money underneath the others and was soon off to another customer. A lady in a bus wanted bottled water.
The traffic has started moving now and he was surprised car honks still filled the air.
He turned and saw that the man’s car was not moving and the cars behind him were about to devour him with their honks and curses.
He ran back to the man’s car and discovered the vehicle’s engine could not come on. In his manner of being in control at all times he quickly dropped his bowl on the car roof and signalled to the man to open his bonnet.
The man, dark with shaved head, nodded— that prompt nod of desperation.
He rushed to the front of the car and lifted the shiny black sheet of metal. He did a few checks, his fingers moving swiftly across the many wired components.
A few seconds and he signalled to the man again.
The man turned the ignition, but nothing happened.
He ran to the back and pushed the car to a start.
The man revved up his engine and moved.
Carrying back his bowl, he saw an extended hand wave at him from the car and nodded.
But then he looked again and saw the car was stopping, the man’s hand still waving. He ran back to the car.
‘Thank you very much,’ the man said.
‘It’s nothing, Sir.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Obinna, Sir.’
‘Ok. My name is Ade.’ He turned to pick something from his glove box.
Obinna was surprised the man hadn’t used a title to address himself. A man in a car as big as that should have something attached to his name at least—Chief, Dr, Engr. or even the dry and ordinary Mr.
‘Here is my card,’ the man said, extending it.
He took the card. ‘Thank you, Sir.’
‘Give me a call whenever you need anything, ok?’
He nodded. ‘Thank you, Sir.’
He told Ahanna about it late at night and he only hissed and told him it was very common for big men to give out their cards whenever a poor man helped them.
That it meant nothing and the man won’t probably remember his name when he calls him.
Obinna shook his head in disbelief but still kept the card.
In the morning, he put it inside the inner pocket of his bag.

At school, Adaku’s relationship with Felix blossomed.
It was now obvious to the other students, and the lecturers too, that they were in theakadagroup; the students who regularly used the library, bought all hand-outs and read all night.
The students who sat in the front during lectures, never missed any and whose hands always go up whenever a lecturer asked a question. The students who aid other students with their assignments and everyone struggled to sit nearby during exams.
Theakadas.
Though Adaku was not like the typicalakadasthat usually segregate themselves from the rest of the class. She played and joked with everyone and only got serious when she needed to be.
Of course, as a Zoo student, there was no way you could survive without being any zoological in behaviour.
Even Felix has come to learn this. He was now course rep and without the jokes and frequent plays, the other male students would have meted out a good dose of frustration to him.
He’d told Ada that he’d chosen Zoology just to get at his dad, who thought because he was a successful medical doctor and owned a chain of clinics in major cities across the country, that all his kids must study medicine.
‘So you chose to be the odd one out,’ Adaku had said after hearing his story, appearing neither surprised nor impressed.
That had made him curious.
He seemed now to enjoy everything about his department though: his crazy course mates, the jovial lecturers, their newly-completed laboratory near Admin Block and one particular loud boy called Okwe who could form a joke out of anything.
But most especially was his relationship with Adaku Onochie, his reading mate.
And this evening that he was finally coming to visit her in her lodge in Temp-Site, they might as well do more than reading.
He’d like them to.
FIFTEEN
A knock came on the door.
Adaku thought it was Debby. She probably had smelt her Jollof rice too, like she did her Okro soup the other day.
Surprise came on her face when she opened the door and it was Felix.
‘How did you locate my room?’ she asked.
He smiled and slapped the wall above him. ‘Block D, Room 8.’
Adaku returned the smile. ‘Come in.’
He entered, his eyes scanning the room.
Adaku suddenly felt him different. He appeared suddenly larger, taller, older, in many ways different from the way he looked at school.
Maybe it was because he wasn’t carrying his signature backpack now.
She pulled a chair for him and he sat. They talked about school while she finished with the food.
Some minutes after, she dropped a plate of steaming, red-coloured rice and fish on the table before him. He complained that the food was too big and she only gave him a face.
As he ate, she left the room to Debby and Candy’s room to borrow a chair.
Debby asked her why she needed an extra chair.
‘I have a visitor,’ Ada replied, lifting the chair.
‘Oh, one of your girls from church came?’ Candy asked, her eyes not leaving her new Sagem My X-2 cell phone
At the door, Adaku turned to her. ‘No, a good friend of mine from school came. And he is a guy.’
The two girls exchanged surprised glances as Ada disappeared out of the room.
Back in her room, she came to join Felix on the table with her own plate of rice.
‘Why give me this tall heap and dish out so little for yourself?’ Felix said to her.
‘I cooked the food, remember?’ Adaku said.
‘Oh, you’ve had a smoke’s fill, I get it.’
She smiled. She particularly enjoyed his wit. After the food, he said he wanted to stretch out on the bed.
He did while she cleared the table.
When she was done, she came back to her seat at the table.
The silence dragged.
Felix tapped the mattress, beside his upright knee. ‘I think you’d feel more comfortable on the bed and I know you think so too, don’t you?’
Adaku smiled and asked him about their coming trip to Ibadan instead.
A NAZS conference was coming up at the University of Ibadan and both of them have been selected to represent their department.
‘Do you look forward to it?’ she asked him.
‘Not really,’ he said, sitting up, now with his back to the pillow. ‘Have you been to Ibadan before?’ he asked her.
She shook her head. ‘No. You?’
‘I was born there.’
She seemed slightly surprised at first, and then she remembered she’d heard him say Yoruba words before. With another course mate of theirs, Muyiwa, who was Yoruba.
‘Come and sit on the bed,’ he said, pulling back to rest his back to the wall.
She stood and went to sit at the edge of the bed.
He stared at her.
For the first time Adaku felt uncomfortable under his gaze.
He pulled out of the bed and took her hand.
He rubbed it. Her skin was soft and smooth. ‘I like you, Ada,’ he said, his voice deeper than it usually were, meaning the words.
She took back her hand quickly as if his fingers had stung her. ‘You can’t like me, Felix,’ she said.
‘Why?’ He appeared surprised at first, but the next second his lips curved in a small smile, getting her curious. ‘I know, right,’ he said. ‘You are a badass, an unrepentant Marxist no son of a rich man should come close to, but I still like you.’
She was looking at him, saying nothing.
He took her hand again. He was moving in to kiss her when she pushed him back, gently. ‘You don’t get it, Felix. You can’t like me because I am a married woman.’
He set curious eyes on her for some seconds and then started to laugh. ‘You, a married woman, how possible!’
She stood. ‘How far is Lagos from Ibadan?’ she asked him instead.
‘Not so far, why do you want to know?’
‘Because that’s where my husband is.’
Every iota of amusement cleared from Felix’s face at once!

OP can we have more, pls?

henribj:
OP can we have more, pls?

2moro please

Interesting...I hope I will like how it ends. I smell betrayal

End of Book One

SIXTEEN
Ahanna counted the money again, wetting his fingers more often this time.
Finally he was done again. He turned to Obinna, eyes overwhelmed with joy. ‘Nwanne, hundred and fifty thousand!’
Obinna nodded, smiling with his lower lip slipped into his mouth. He can’t remember the last time he saw Ahanna that happy, and for that he felt greatly pleased himself.
Ahanna grabbed him suddenly in a forceful hug. ‘Hundred and fifty thousand, Nwanne!’
Obinna hugged him back and at the same time praying Ahanna hadn’t broken any of his bones.
***
The broker took them to the house the evening of the next day. They liked the room and the landlord and his young wife seemed a nice couple too.
They called them omo Igbo playfully and told them the person that had just moved out of the room they were seeking to occupy had been an Igbo too.
‘A very quiet boy,’ the landlord’s young wife said. ‘Oni wa tutu.’
The boys were excited.
The broker, Baba Duplex as he was fondly called, gave them the account number to pay the rent into.
That night Obinna could not sleep. Excitement wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t wait for them to move back to the enclosed shelter of a room. To own a stove and once again eat food he cooked himself.
To get away from the cold and the furious mosquitoes and the black spots they’d left all around his skin.
He longed to once again start writing to Ada. He would mention to her about their new success, but not the hard life that had come before it.
He prayed the mosquito spots disappeared before they saw each other again.
Finally it was 4 a.m. and the other flyover boys had started rising. Taking buckets to dark corners beside shops to have a bath.
After he’s had his own bath, he walked to the spot where he’d buried the money.
Even as he dug, he noticed something seemed different with the soil, but in his excitement easily ignored it.
When he finally brought out the tin, it felt lighter.
He opened it.
It was empty.
For many seconds he thought it was a dream and waited to wake up.
The minutes dragged and he was still there, kneeling and holding an empty tin.
He ran his palm over his face.
It was real.
Their entire savings were gone.
For the first time ever, he lost control and lay flat on the soil and started to cry.
Ahanna and some other boys rushed to him, thinking a scorpion or some other insect might have stung him.
‘Nwanne, what is it?’ Ahanna kept asking.
‘What is it na? Tell me!’
He kept on crying, rolling this way and that on the dirt.
Finally he pointed to the empty Milo tin beside him and Ahanna froze.
He turned away quietly and walked to the edge of road and sat.
That evening, he dressed up in his new clothes, the one he'd worn to church only three days ago, first time he went to church since their mishap at Oshodi.
Obinna asked him where he was headed, if he should dress up and follow him too, but he said no, that he was only going to meet a mighty man.
'Which man?' Obinna asked him.
'The man who had been so partial to me,’ Ahanna replied. ‘Had it not been him, we wouldn't have suffered this much at all, Nwanne.'
Obinna did not understand. 'If you are talking about Chief, forget it,’ he told him. ‘He is a scam.’
'I'm not talking about Chief.'
He watched Ahanna walk away, both hands in his pockets, his steps relaxed, like one on a visit to see his girlfriend.
He didn't return that evening and Obinna went to bed hungry, sad and worried.
That night, he didn’t fight the mosquitoes. He left himself for them to feed. It appeared he was completely oblivious of their presence even. Not even the tiny, nerve-twitching sounds they were making got him to move.
It was only in the morning that he saw the headline on The Punch front page – 'Youth Jumps in Train Track at Oshodi'
He'd shaken his head and turned away, consoling himself with the thought that there was someone out there they were better than.
But then the image—the crumpled figure of what had been a young man—flashed through his senses again, the patches of white from what must have been a white shirt the victim wore.
He turned quickly to the vendor and jerked the paper out of his hand.
He straightened it out and peered at the picture. He managed to make out the red dragon drawn on the white shirt.
Ahanna!
A great pound hit his chest. Sudden warmth spread round his brain and everywhere grew misty.
The vendor jerked back his paper from him, murmured something and went his way.
Obinna stood there, motionless, just staring into the air.
For many minutes his head remained blank.
A yellow bus passed him; the conductor was screaming 'O-sh-oo-di!’
He turned.
The bus stopped for a passenger to come down. He pressed his eyelids tight to let out tears he didn’t know had formed.
He wiped at his face quickly and ran towards the bus. The bus was already moving when he flew into it.
The conductor screamed at him to be sure he had change. 'Hold your change o! 500 - 1000, no change o!'
Inside the bus, the conductor held out his hand to him. ‘Owo da nbe!’
Obinna didn’t turn to him. His blank eyes were positioned stiffly ahead.
The conductor tapped him. ‘Owo e da!’
He turned to the dark-skinned man and a great stream of tears flowed down his cheeks instead.
The conductor drew back. ‘Ah, kilo fa ekun?I said give me your money and you are crying for me? Na your tears I wan chop ni? Pay me jor!’
That was when the fat woman sitting beside him turned to look at him. She quickly opened her purse and gave the conductor N50.
But she didn’t ask Obinna why he was crying.
The bus stopped at Oshodi and he came down.
He walked to the train track, scanned round but saw no body.
Officials have come to dispose Ahanna’s body.
He kept on looking, checking, and then suddenly it hit him again whose body he was looking to find.
It was Nwanne’s body.
His eyes filled up again and he went and sat on the train rails. People stared at him. But he didn't mind.
He waited and waited, the sun biting away at his skin, tears and sweat warring on his face, but no train came for him.
A man passing yelled at him in Yoruba. He heard 'were ni' and he knew what it was.
Mad man.
He wished now he was.
The tale continues...

na wa o... life hard

Argh.....tough one....

a very nice story but I'm wondering why it's in romance section

Op....how are u dis evening?pls come drop something

Swissheart:
Op....how are u dis evening?pls come drop something

tell him o, i guess he only listens to you

henribj:


tell him o, i guess he only listens to you

....lol

Swissheart:
....lol

can I give you a ??

henribj:


can I give you a ??

...no,thanks

Swissheart:
...no,thanks

op where at thou o??
this your story has completely melted my heart... and i promised myself never to have a soft heart any longer .