₦airaland Forum

4 Play:
Na Doyin write this nonsense? This is a degradation of the act of reading.

It shows you are totally devoid of even a morsel of sagacity or indeed your lack of perspicacity
that you cannot detect the evidence of a modern Dickensian talent 

maedan:
I think I liked the style of the first LondonTown story. The raw comedy was really cool. Not digging this new persona at all.

Even me sef don dey tire for the tori. . .

I am rustling up a story in my old style so watch this space

''Oi'', I shouted, ''what the mess are you doing?''

They were four of them, I guessed  in their late teens. Certainly
they were too young to ''roll'' with Khaled.

''We are friends of Khaled, blood'', one of them replied.

''I am not your blood'', I reprimanded. ''You had better give me
one good reason why you are trying to break his window or else
I will call the po po.''

''Bruv, Bruv . . . . .Listen yeah. . . . .You can call Khaled and ask him
about Soldier. he will tell you, we go way back.''

I didn't know if it was simply the staccato rhythm of British ghetto youth speak
or if he was a natural stammerer or perhaps he was simply scared I might actually
call the police like I threatened, he lacked the penchant for bravura like most youths.
His silent companions on the other hand were either clearing the debris of broken glass,
a prelude to entry, or hidden under a black hoodie.

''Because you go way back, don't mean you can just break and enter man's flat through
the window does it?''

He chuckled uneasily,''Nahhhhhhhh bruvits not like that. Khaled is far away in North and
he has got some stuff of mine yeah, and man needs them things real quick. So I called him
and he says we should try get in anyhow.''

He obviously noticed the look of disbelief on my face.

''Just call him, Blood,'' he insisted, reaching into his pockets for his phone.''You have his number
yeah?''

''No''.

See I had never had cause to take Khaled's number. I would simply pop downstairs and after a
few hours simply pop back up to my flat, so it had never even come up in conversation either
deliberately or by accident. So when he disappeared two weeks ago, I had no way of contacting him.

I pulled back into my flat and dialled the number the youth gave me. . . .

''Hello''

''Yo Khaled, what's happening. Its Bola''

''Heyyyyyyyy. . . .Bola, what's gwanning?''

''Nothing much men. Where you been though,'' I asked, a slight hint of concern
in my voice.

''Blood, I've been up North sitll, chilling with the missus''.

''Ohyou chilling with Paula yeah?'' Paula some pretty faced, but kind of scrawny
chick that had got Khaled all swoony. He met her not too long before his disppearance.

''Yes Blood. Girls treating man real good you know'', he said, and I could hear the delight
in his voice. Evidence of a pussy whipped man I thought.

''Your little friends over here did say you were up North as well''

''What friends?'' he asked, with a noticeable tinge of anxiety.

''Some little youths trying to break your window right now you know.
They say they know you from way back''

''WHAT. . .'' It was no longer a hint but full blown anxiety.
''Should I call the police, Khaled?'' I asked

''Errr. . . . .'' He sounded so flustered and hesitant. A marked departure from his usual
laid back persona.''Did they say what their name was?''

''Their spokesman said his name was Soldier''

''Soldier'' he repeated,''Did he actually say Soldier?''

''Yeah man. . . . .that's what he said.'' I said with a slight bit of irritation

''Bleep blood. . . .'' he screamed down the line.''Why can't these blood clots just leave man
alone?''

''You know what Bola yeah, just leave it. . . .Err let me speak to you
later on.''

Before I could even offer the usual ''okay'', he cut the phone off