Complications...........vita brevis

On Friday afternoon, I was in the sitting room with Bisola. We were studying together. Her parent with sister left the house for a party. 30minutes after they left, we proceed to her room; this time the romance turned into sex. We had someone cough. ************************************************************************************* It was her sister; she came in to change her change her cloths. “Am sorry” she said and left the room. I heard voices in the house; it was the chief and my boss. I left her room when the voices die down. I called Mohammed from is post at the gate to the room, I told them what happened and we decided to pack our bags. Just as we are packing, we had the chief call out our names; the rage in his voice speaks trouble. “You bastard” he pointed his cutlass towards us “Pack your things and leave my house!” he barked. We dash into the room and pack the bags. He came into the room and threw our bags out. We gather the bags and the cloths slowly on the floor until h

************************** “Are you dating him?” Busola questioned her sister with anger; I expected her to be sober when she caught us. Was it part of her plan? I wondered. I took my leave immediately. “Shameless coward” she called after me. Busola pulled my hand and whispered “Am sorry” “Ok” I replied. We left the room together. “Where is Mohammed?” “He is having his sacred bath” Uche replied “Did he do it” I asked with eagerness “Yes, but he almost fucked up” “At least he did, that’s what matters” I shut him up. Mohammed came into the room looking refreshed and pale. “My guy” I praised him “Am not your guy “Wetin happen” “What I did was bad, I shouldn’t have listen to you” “At least you did and you now know that the girl is not a virgin as she claimed” “So?” “Keep living in denial” “But e sweet you abi? I asked him with a sarcastic voice. “Fuck off” “Am going to mosque” he said and walked out of the room. *************************************************************************

It was a solemn evening, Mohammed was sober throughout the journey home, Uchenna was whistling to himself, all I was thinking of is how to deal with the girl; God forgives, I don’t. ***************************************************************************** At home, I called the boys to a round table “let’s deal with the girl” “I agree with you Tunde” Uche replied; always willing for a new adventure. “No” Mohammed opened his mouth for the first time in fifteen minutes; a sad news for the bacteria in his mouth. “E be like say you dey mad? U dey always do like say na you only pass” uche was angry “One thing I learnt in Lagos is that ‘you have to be smart and expect the next guy to cheat you’, what happened today was a lesson for us” I started Facing Mohammed now “you have to treat her fuck up” “Why? Allah will do the justice for me” “All your life, you have been holy; you always want to do the right thing until you are duped by a bimbo” “Let’s use this to pass a messag

Epilogue “Happy birthday to you” That was the song they were singing when I opened my eye. That was eleven years ago; April 10, 1999 to be précised. They came with a cake which has small candles on top, I was asked to make a wish; I did. The day was a memorable day for me; it was the day my father was celebrating his victory on his party primary election. It was a memorable day in Ilesha; an Ijesha man is contesting for the state gubernatorial seat and was sure to win. The party kick off with my birthday party, friends from all over visited and a DJ came to play, we partied and merry. Religion leaders from all over the state came to pay their homage to my father and also to collect money they never worked for. By 4:00pm, my Uncle Mr. Olufemi Philips came in with the party supporters and well wishers and the main party kicked off. A local musician was there to sing his “Adamo ijesha”; a form of music common to the Ijesha’s. It was the talk of town f