Sweet morning, the sun rays pouring in through the little space from the broken window pane. I woke up with a sensation as sharp as a butcher’s knife slicing through a chunk of meat. Then, I remembered the party from last night, I remembered I was so drunk yesterday. I was so messed up that my legs rejected my body (literally anyway). I never knew what hangovers felt like until it happened.
“Wait o! where am I? ” This was the question my body asked my brain. After about twenty minutes it became clear I was home right on my cranky bed. The old faded calendar hanging loosely on the wall opposite my bed caught my attention. On the calendar is the picture of the past president in his “Baba Riga”, holding his hands above his head in a sign of democracy. I smiled, not without unwanted drops of tears escaping down my cheeks.
Saturday it was. This is a day of the week I always look forward to. This is the only day I am the boss over myself. All other days I don’t have control over anything except the morsels of food that goes down my throat, yet it was on this day I chose to get drunk. Can I be blamed? I only wanted an escape from the societal imbalance that stares at one like vultures hovering over the dying meats.
Every day I wake up knowing that regardless of what happens during the course of the day I have little or no control over them. I don’t determine what bus to enter, who to sit beside me inside the “danfo”, whether it is a sweet-smelling fine girl or an alcohol-smelling “agbero” brethren. I don’t get to choose times or moments when there will be traffic, determine whether it will rain, if the sun will be scorching or if I will have an erection.
“Why was I drunk?” I asked myself, then I remembered, Yes! I remembered why I decided to drink myself to stupor. I got news earlier in the day. Agbo the vulcanizer who lives next door broke the news to me, I can’t still fathom the reason why I answered this particular call because most times when my phone rings at mid-day and I see any of my nosy neighbors trying to reach me, I always switched off my phone. But this particular day I didn’t know what got into me that I did otherwise.
My Adunni has eloped with Semiu the “Danfo” driver. This was the terrible news I received. “Adunni mi atata, oni ibadi aran, oloju ede.” Adunni is not a typical beautiful girl, But she is beautiful in a way, with a body so attractive like a young man cruising a white Benz on a sunny afternoon. She smiles very often, the dimples on her cheeks in full display when she does that.
My relationship with Adunni is one which I knew will one day come to an end, but not at this particular time when the only succor I have are those moments our bodies are entwined in vigorous lovemaking on my rickety bed or away in the bathroom behind the house. The kisses we shared always reminded me of the importance of my big lips aside occupying a space on my face.
Lots of time during our lovemaking Adunni had always mentioned that she won’t dare leave me for any man. She always insisted I have the strength of twenty stallions but now I realized “all na scam”, she only enjoyed the thing, she only enjoyed the way I thrust my thing in and out of her engine. Can I blame Adunni? I have little to offer her aside bed magic. It takes few of the strong hearts to reject the alluring offer of money especially when it will come regularly. She made the right choice.
Then I remembered that tomorrow is a Sunday. I am not much of a churchgoer but I like the sight of “dem” ushers in short skirts and high heels plus blouses revealing too much than necessary. Praise and worship keep my soul entertained. The pain of losing Adunni will be soothed by church tomorrow.
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David says
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Unknown says
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Anonymous says
Funny
Unknown says
Nice 1 sugar
Anonymous says
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Unknown says
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Unknown says
Well written
Unknown says
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Unknown says
Awesome
SOTOZO says
Awesome storyline. This story can't end here edakun.
Gen stam says
Nice write up
Unknown says
Nice
Its.dynamiite says
a flawless short story is all I want to read on a Thursday morning.I really enjoy the way you started it,making we the readers curious on wassup and how you ended the last paragraph with a LIFE GOES ON energy. Keep the good work b,I love it
_its.dynamiite
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