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.

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

u ar kinda rite buh I will still consider

How do you think the world is gonna be if everything is vice-versa, gels liking sex and boys loving money.....who would woo who? Pls comment!!!

adaksbullet:
Has I was come bak frm sch these mourning (I teash english laguag on obafemi awolowo univacity), I see soja wife on rain so I pack too cari her too her aos, she say tank and com in my car (rose ros) so as I was say go, I cari her too her aos and she say mr adaksbullet tank u o, I hapi and smile romatic to her and she leak her lips...she say come in sir and I come in whit her,as i was sit down in chair she jos junp to me kiss me well...kai her lips hard like iron spoonch but I no mind, ikiss kiss kiss kiss she noun stop say she come say she want to go and remov her cloth insid, as she go I quick remov ma clot and boxa...has I was shake ma bombom, sombodi jos torch me as I luk too kiss like this, I jus here gbooooooooooooooooooa for face of mine, I faint thr streat ni...has I wass wake up com, I here the woman say "am the one that pregnat heR"........inshot, the soja cari me go thr barack dem beet me I die small..........



Noun I wan jostis, they sheet me o noun mine wife is ask what do me for bodi what shall I told her ppl?


Help prof adaksbullet o

chai 4 dis post again? Upon d advice wey I give u 4 dat oda 1 nd u call ursef teacher...buh guy make we talk true, u too worst wetin happen na? We wan comot ur brain put engirish text book ni...I neva see diz kain tin b4 ooo 'eleyi gidi gan' mayb akpos na ur student sha

adaksbullet:
Has I was come bak frm sch these mourning (I teash english laguag on obafemi awolowo univacity), I see soja wife on rain so I pack too cari her too her aos, she say tank and com in my car (rose ros) so as I was say go, I cari her too her aos and she say mr adaksbullet tank u o, I hapi and smile romatic to her and she leak her lips...she say come in sir and I come in whit her,as i was sit down in chair she jos junp to me kiss me well...kai her lips hard like iron spoonch but I no mind, ikiss kiss kiss kiss she noun stop say she come say she want to go and remov her cloth insid, as she go I quick remov ma clot and boxa...has I was shake ma bombom, sombodi jos torch me as I luk too kiss like this, I jus here gbooooooooooooooooooa for face of mine, I faint thr streat ni...has I wass wake up com, I here the woman say "am the one that pregnat heR"........inshot, the soja cari me go thr barack dem beet me I die small..........



Noun I wan jostis, they sheet me o noun mine wife is ask what do me for bodi what shall I told her ppl?


Help prof adaksbullet o

chai 4 dis post again? Upon d advice wey I give u 4 dat oda 1 nd u call ursef teacher...buh guy make we talk true, u too worst wetin happen na? We wan comot ur brain put engirish text book ni...I neva see diz kain tin b4 ooo 'eleyi gidi gan' mayb akpos na ur student sha

My fone error (ride, write)....(Sent, send) biko na mistake...wink

Trypa:





Lol kul

hmmm, eleyi gidi gan oooo....na only laff u dey laff, any ways ride down ur contact or ur pin buh if dnt want any oda person to add u sent it to my email.....u grab?

dmcdad:



Epic! I would love to hire this guy to write an English exam for me. I think he would do great. What do you think?

your F9's go pass wole soyinka's own

dukeolumde:



Cool. Nice one bro. Keep up d good work.

one love

profojah:

Ani mo ti Faye mi fun Jesu

omo aiye, tuale, buate, baba ooo, oga nla, agba awo.....ahn ahn, vigil 4 wedsday?

dukeolumde:



Yes it is and the original writer is a very good writer. Another thing I noticed is that there is no direct relationship/correlation
between d Ops assumed personality in d write up and his pictures(Dp)... I stand to be corrected.

story for d irumole....I neva said its mine, shared it 4 story lovers like me

profojah:

Emi gan ti faye mi fun Jesu.. Mo wa ni night vigil lowolowo bi mo se ba e soro.. Shey omo ijebu ni e ni? Tori o ti jo awon omo ijebu-igbo yen ju

ama canadian nd I want to jah too, bawo ni mase se?

missmary:


guy wan kill me...

chai see dat ur teeth, e big oooo ( jez 4 fun) ...my own big too abi?

MrsPhyno:

i'm part of the indomie generation nah.
we no dey dull

oyah no shaking 'gbosa'....if to say na me u date u 4 no sey u fit dull (no insult)

MrsPhyno:
Lol secondary school gals no dey mumu like dat nah...
Them don sharp up

They know say virginity na biiiig business in naija so they keep am for their higgest bidding maga huzban to appreciate

but b4 dey qot wise, u don fall prey?

profojah:

washere.. nkan to shele nipe.. Wo ma mount ori e sinu owo poun mewa.. O ti ye e?. Shey omo aye ni e?. Shey o ma n la skunk?.abi skuchies lo mo n mu?.. Ma ma form bolo, shey bi omo igboro.. Ko de ma jara e..ma je ki enikankan ma pe e ni ase lai ki se Ancelloti... Ti won ba sebi oloriburuku, GBA oju anybody..boje falconey ni, GBA oju e... Ibile... Oya je knuckle..obinrin bi okunrin

missmary, dis 1 wan send u to hell ni oo

‘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.

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!’

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…’

falconey:


[color=#990000][/color]

lwtmb wat a smart winner..delete gel or virus or waheva ur name is, am not a gel nd am not a virgin....I Bleep pretty gud

Trypa:




Lol dats kul

I wuld love to knw u more.....friends? "extending an invincible hand shake"

delectablegyal:


Shoro niyen?

Obviously, u r not a virgin.

am damn sure u ar not a virgin either....talking indirectly 'shey post niyen'?

Mehn ur vocabulary worst, chai as I dey read am e dey gimme earache...no insult buh u nid to work on it, relax nd go thrh ur post again wen u wanna drop any thing lyk dis...'Motaka oshi danu, eminirekan' so my life is not ruined

After several months in gym, don jazzy finally has 6 solid pacs… Lmaooooo, Is this truly him

Ogbeni cum nd finish dis tin na....ion dey wait since

‘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)

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.

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.

Trypa:





Sure I will

sowie trypa, my bad...didn't knw u were a qel....mabinu

PrimeMinisterr:


thats a gurl, not a dude.
.
.
.
her pics is right there on her profile.

oh, um so sowie....my mistake, I never checked her profile nor see d feminine sign

‘Wow!’ he screamed even before the page could fully load. ‘You are admitted! Nne, you have admission o!’
She did not know how to feel. A complex mix of joy and something else flowed through her.
Then suddenly the smiles on Emma’s face started to die.
‘Zoology,’ he murmured. ‘Ada, they gave you Zoology.’
She peered at the screen and it was really Zoology.
‘What courses did you fill?’ Emma asked.
‘Pharmacy,’ she said.
‘Haa.’ Emma hissed, in the way people do to show they are very sad about something. ‘You should have asked me.’ His voice was now low. ‘You should have asked me. UNIZIK does not admit for Pharmacy yet.’
‘I didn’t know,’ she said.
‘Haa.’ Emma swayed his head and hissed again.
Adaku stared at him, wondering why he seemed so sad.
Zoology, she knew had to do with animals. She wouldn’t mind it at all.
After all, she owned a hen called Nkoli who she pretended to talk to.
When Nkoli in her manner of doing things the inexplicable way, decided to hatch her chicks in the kitchen roof, she was the only one Nkoli allowed to touch her babies and bring them down for her.
And truly she did not like Chemistry which she knew is the bone of Pharmacy that much.
She had only chosen Pharmacy because her mother had asked her to study ‘doctor’ so that she’d finally find a lasting cure to her periodic arthritic pains.
Because she knew she could not stand the sight of human blood, she’d opted for Pharmacy instead which she hoped would be an adequate substitute to medicine for her mother.
She looked and Emma’s eyes were still on her. ‘Emma, print my result,’ she said.
‘Ok.’ He turned to look at her again before bending to set up the printer.
The concerned look was still on his face as he handed her the printout and gave her her change.
It was as though he couldn’t imagine someone like her studying that course.
‘Thank you. Bye-bye,’ she said.
‘Bye-bye,’ Emma said, his voice so low she barely heard him.
She did not turn to look, otherwise she would have seen how he swayed his head in the way people do to show pity.
***
Today, the two boys were exceptionally happy.
They were meeting with Chief today. They were finally going to get their wares and couldn’t wait to start selling, making millions.
After they told him their money was complete, Okechukwu had told them Chief would be returning to the country in a week, and that was today.
They have so many customers lined up already, one even said he needed four bags straight and was going to pay double if need be.
The baking powder was the scarcest thing in Lagos now anyway. Not even in Alaba International Market, could you find any more than 20grams to buy at once.
But this evening they were going to get the 10 bags they’d paid for.
‘Obyno, I done leave you go!’ Ahanna was already outside.
From inside the room, Obinna heard him strike his leather flip-flops against the wall to clean them.
He hurried with his shirt.
‘Let’s go,’ Ahanna said as he came out. The Ghana-Must-Go they’d use to carry the bags of powder was folded into four and held under his armpit.
The bike they took stopped them at Oshodi Express. In his blissful spirit, Ahanna waved down a taxi.
When Obinna gave him a surprised look, he told him to keep quiet and better start adjusting to the new life of money and comfort.
The taxi driver said he’d collect N3000 'last'to take them to Lekki where Chief lived. Ahanna did not protest. He gestured to Obinna to enter the car.
He hesitated.
‘Nwokem, enter na! Na so the poverty done do you reach?’
Obinna held the front door handle to open it.
‘Enter the back!’ Ahanna barked, nearly startling him.
He joined him as he entered, mumbling that they have to enjoy what they paid for.
Obinna did not understand why staying at the back meant more enjoyment than the front.
He would have preferred to sit in the front. He liked to stick his head out to look at the tall buildings and busy traffic.
He was annoyed when they got to the bridge and he could not see the ocean well.
The silent sea spread over the horizon like an endless dark-grey blanket. He wondered if the small figures on tiny wood structures he saw on the water were really people.
He held himself not to gasp at the sight of the tall buildings that lined the ocean.
But when he saw a slim structure that towered high into the sky perforated with over a thousand windows, the gasp flew out of him without his notice.
‘That’s NITEL Tower,’ Ahanna told him.
‘How do people climb it?’ he asked.
Now Ahanna smiled, the double-faced smile of city people. ‘They use elevator.’
‘Oh.’ Though he did not know what an elevator is, how it looked, he didn’t bother to ask either. He hated to get that smile from people, Ahanna least of all.
Finally, they were in Lekki, the part of Lagos that looked nothing like Lagos. Where the day appeared to move at normal speed and people looked more human, not like the crazed figures he saw in Oshodi.
The houses looked like they were built for people too.
The air felt like air and he saw trees and grasses and even a grasshopper.
The taxi stopped them at No. 11.
Ahanna ‘settled’ the taxi man and they walked towards the gate—wide and black, made from smooth metal. He raised a hand and struck the gate.
They waited.
Ahanna knocked at the gate again.
A small, square hole opened on it and they saw two eyes. Then a portion of the gate slid back and a young man in blue and black appeared.
‘We are looking for Number 11 Adebayo Street,’ Ahanna said.
‘This is Adebayo Street, how can I help you?’
‘We are here to see Chief.’
‘Chief?’
Okey appeared at the gate then. ‘Boys, wetin happen na?’ he said. ‘Chief done dey wait tey tey!’
‘We are sorry,’ Ahanna said.
As they followed Okey in, Obinna wondered what he would have said had they not used a taxi.
He stared at the house in awe. Whoever that was strong enough to mould something like that in Lagos is worth his respect.
Inside, they sat on the cream-colored couch and waited for Chief.
Obinna felt uncomfortable surrounded by so much expensive things: the glass table with silver legs, the gleaming dark-green tiles, the wide TV, the…
Chief appeared and his eyes ran to him.
They quickly stood and greeted him with a bow.
He was in a long loose robe, a tall large man with elegant slowness. He did not drink from the glass of wine in his right hand; a fancy black walking stick was in his other.
He sat down on the couch facing them and dropped his glass of wine on the table. He inclined his walking stick to the arm of the chair.
‘Sir, I have brought them,’ Okechukwu said.
‘I see.’
‘Good afternoon, sir,’ Ahanna greeted again.
‘Good afternoon, sir,’ Obinna joined, as if to be sure Chief did not sense any disrespect and decide not to help them again.
‘How do you do, young men?’ he asked them, his voice wealthily calm.
‘We are fine, sir,’ they chorused.
He asked them what they’d like to take and they said, together as usual, that they were ok.
Chief nodded and asked Okechukwu to collect the money from them.
Ahanna handed him the black package.
Okechukwu counted the money and nodded at Chief.
‘How much is there?’ he asked.
‘One hundred and sixty, sir.’
‘Ok. Go in and get them the products.’
Two at a time, Okechukwu brought out the 10 bags of the expensive powder for them—transparent 5kg sachets.
Ahanna packed all into their Ghana-Must-Go and they thanked Chief and left.
When they got home, Ahanna placed the bag under the TV table and spread a wrapper over it.
He changed his shirt and walked to the call booth at the end of the street to call the people interested in the powder.
He called the one that disturbed them the most first, the one that said he was willing to pay double the price.
The number returned unavailable.
He tried another and it was same.
After the third number and none was able to connect, he walked back to the house smiling.

NINE
Obinna dropped his wet shirt back into the bucket. Rubbing his hands on his knickers, he ran into the house.
The noise was coming from Room Four. Ore’s room.
He put his ear to the door. Ore and her visitor were arguing in raised voices.
He tried to listen, tried to understand what they were arguing about, but there was just so much Yoruba going on.
He finally decided to think that was how Yoruba people argued—after all, he’d always thought they talked a little louder than average.
And he was the only one that had run to Ore’s door.
He was turning to leave when he heard the sound of a hard slapping and the accompanying squeal of pain.
It was Ore that was slapped, he knew at once.
He pounded the door. ‘Ore?’ Again. ‘Ore, are you inside?’
‘Obinna, please help me, please!’ he heard and the next second, dull sounds of repeated blows followed by Ore’s cries.
It appeared his presence had only angered her tormentor the more.
He tried to open the door; it was bolted from inside. He drew back and came back to it with force. The door flew open.
He dived at the guy beating Ore on the bed and flung him away. He held Ore; her mouth was bleeding. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked her.
Ore pointed to his back. Before he could fully turn, the stool had slammed into his head.
He reeled and fell away.
‘Obinna!’ Ore was running to him when the guy that had hit him grabbed her by the hand.
He said something in Yoruba. ‘Shebi oun leleyi.’
On the ground, Obinna shook his head and staggered back to his feet. He lunged towards the guy and both of them locked in a tight struggle of muscles.
Ahanna flew into the room then with another neighbour. They separated the fight and the other tenant who was Yoruba too started asking Ore what happened.
The visitor straightened his shirt, pointed at Ore and murmured something and then walked away.
Ahanna asked Obinna if he was okay.
He shook his head, eyes rolling, as if to reset his brain back into order.
Later in evening, as Ahanna handed him a blister pack of Panadol, he reminded him that this is Lagos where heroes don’t last.
He nodded and swallowed the tablets.
Ore would later tell him that the boy used to be her boyfriend and that she just told him she was no longer interested in the relationship when he got upset and slapped her.
‘Why did you tell him you are no longer interested?’ he asked her.
Ore said nothing and walked quietly away.
***
Adaku was surprised she wasn’t having the normal anxious feelings associated with checking results.
The day they’d gone to pick their WAEC, she’d felt so nervous she nearly threw up.
When she finally got the envelope, she’d given it to Obinna to open and tell her only if she should cry or not.
Obinna had opened the folded paper gently, glancing up at her from time to time.
The white sheet of paper straight in his hand, his eyes widened in horror.
Adaku felt a hard pound in her chest.
‘Ada, I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice low with sympathy. He folded the paper back, shaking his head slowly. ‘All others were good, but you failed English and Maths.’
Adaku suddenly felt like crying.
He extended the envelope to her, deep concern on his face. ‘Don’t be so sad, I’m sure you will do better next year.’
She breathed hard and took the envelope from him. She made no attempt to open it.
‘You don’t want to open it?’ he asked.
She shook her head, her lips compressed.
He started to laugh.
Her eyes ran to him.
‘Open your resultjor!’ he said. ‘With that much A’s, I’m sure Principal Eze will preach with your name at the assembly for months!’
She slowly straightened the paper, her heart still thudding.
And then she smiled, and slapped his head. ‘Mkpi!’
He was chuckling.
‘Let me see yours,’ she said.
He gave her. She nodded as she whispered each grade: C5, C6, C5, B2, C4, D7…
She turned to him. ‘D7 in Geography?’
He nodded. ‘Didn’t touch that map sheet.’
She handed it back. ‘Good result.’
‘Thank you.’
They hugged and walked home holding hands.
But now that she was on her way to the Computer Centre in Adazi with her scratch card and printout, she was surprised she wasn’t feeling the usual prick of anxiety at her sides.
She stared boldly at the computer screen as Emma typed in her details.
He was smiling, both at her and at the screen. She didn’t understand the smile, she didn’t bother to try either.
‘So which other schools did you choose?’ he asked her.
‘Just UNIZIK,’ she said.
He turned to her. ‘Only UNIZIK?’
‘Yes.’
He left his eyes on her for a while, and then on a consoling note said, ‘You will get it’, before turning back to the screen.
Adaku gave a perfunctory nod.
‘Awka is close,’ Emma added.
Another nod. ‘Yes.’
He finished typing and submitted.
They waited, staring as the short bar at the top of the page slowly filled with green.
The loading got to the near end and paused. An error page popped up instead.
Emma looked at her with guilt, as though he was somehow the cause of the poor network.
He clicked on the back link and re-submitted.

His relationship with Ore had also blossomed.
The first time she’d touched him, inside the room, he’d gently pushed her hand off and quietly left the room for her.
The second time, a week or so later, he took the trespassing hand, held it tight and told her to listen.
She obeyed and after he drew closer and narrated to her all about his wife in the village, she nodded, smiled and told him she understood.
She also told him his wife was lucky and he smiled, and felt extremely good within.
Slowly, their relationship melted into a platonic sweetness.
He stopped being afraid each time he was alone with her. They played together and joked often.
She taught him how to sayekaro,ekasoandekale. How to eat Agege bread andewaby first turning theewaand oil sauce into a smooth brown paste.
He tried it and liked it.
He told her to always sayodi mmawhenever he asked herkedu?
She helped him write his second letter to Ada. That evening, she told him to cancel the ‘I Miss You’ he’d written at the end of the letter and write something like ‘Thinking Of You Always’ instead.
He didn’t understand her reason, but he’d agreed.
She also told him to draw something on the letter, a funny image he was sure would make her laugh.
He hummed and turned his eyes up in thought.
He finally drew two chicken legs on the paper and wrote underneath it, ‘How is Nkoli doing?’
‘What is Nkoli?’ Ore asked him.
‘She will understand,’ he said, smiling.
***
Ahanna first told him about Okechukwu and his business deal on a Saturday night.
They had just finished eating and were lying on the bed, their eyes to the ceiling, waiting for NEPA.
He’d found something fishy about the deal—buying bags of baking powder that has surprisingly gone scarce in the market—but he’d agreed, majorly because Ahanna sounded very excited about it, and the fact that he really did not know much about Lagos and its deals.
More relieving, they were not to pay the hundred and sixty thousand naira immediately. They would pay in parts, comfortably spread over three months.
Okey had said they should follow him to the market to confirm, but that Chief was a very honest man.
That he’d imported the powder by mistake and now he wanted to help people with it, young people like them who needed help. Young people struggling to make it in Lagos.
They’d gone to Alaba with him with a small sample of the powder—a smooth, sweet-smelling white dust.
A man was ready to pay N150, 000 for one bag immediately if they had come along with it.
Since people discovered the powder could be used for so many other things other than baking, it had disappeared entirely from the market— the man told them.
He took the small sample they brought and gave them N10, 000.
***
The next day was Sunday.
They followed Ore to her church— The Redeemed.
Before Obinna’s coming, Ahanna used to attend Miracle Mountain Ministries in Isolo, the pastor was called Pastor Sharp-Sharp, from the quick-working nature of his prayers.
But Ahanna stopped going after many months and nothing changed for him.
Pastor Sharp-Sharp was sluggish in his case.
He agreed for them to follow Ore to her church now that Obinna has come and it appeared God has finally remembered he existed.
Obinna liked the church, the way the choir sang Igbo and Yoruba versions of every song, as though a competition to find out the tribe that would out-dance each other.
He also liked the cold malt he drank as a ‘first-timer’.
Later in the evening, he was outside washing when a tall young man passed him, walking into the central corridor.
He had looked up to greet him, but discovered the man was not in the mood.
He seemed in a hurry.
He bent down to his bucket again, but he soon heard noises.