Right now I feel very tired and I am resolving to sleep. I woke up about late in the evening; i certainly enjoyed my sleep that i did not wish to wake. Infact I was wondering what it will be like when I die, if that sleep will be as sweet as the ones I’ve been having lately.
For days now, I feel hunger several times of the day and find my tummy rumbling like children are dancing inside, just like I feel right now. But the only problem being that I have just 20 naira left, and with Rosco not calling in a week my options have been dry.
I couldn’t take the hunger anymore, so I took my plate to the aboki, still clean, I have managed to use it for four days without getting it dirty.
On my way to the aboki, everyone had their eyes on me like it was in the beginning when I had just parked in. They seem to have gotten used to the conclusion that I am a mad woman, and have stopped snickering at me. But they are at it again, and now with a little pity in their eyes. Some of them called at me and muttered words I did not understand but I still managed to give them a big smile and shake my buttocks for them don’t know why but they seem to always enjoy it, especially the children.
I let the aboki sell my usual before I gave him the money, just as I expected he shouted and called me names. He insulted me so much and even called me pregnant. I knew I had to run before he uses his cane on me but I wanted to get my revenge, so I bent to pick a stone, ran to a short distance, threw the stone at him and headed home. I heard him call out at me “damborouba.” I really can’t remember what pregnant means but I know it has to be insultive. Come to think of it some people I saw today said things like that. Why are they calling me that? Could I really be mad, because I think that’s what it means? I think it’s a strong word for another level of madness. “It is all of you that are pregnant” I blurted out.
I miss Rosco,i wish he would just come tonight. He hasn’t even been parking his bus here for days now. I decided finally that I need someone to talk to,i think I can talk to the ‘agbo’ woman who sells ‘jedi-jedi’ to Rosco and his cohorts. I will like to ask her if she knows Rosco’s whereabouts, otherwise she can find someone who will do to me what Rosco does, and lastly I ill beg her to help me tell people that I am not mad and probably stop calling me pregnant and maybe she can explain to me ‘sef’ why they think I am.
Nice story. A touch of brilliance from you. Kudos for a job well done. Wish you all the best.
Totally!way to go!all d best!its a nice piece
beautiful end to a perfect story……..
Creative piece!Certified OK
you pointed out the fact that her disorder might have disturbed her understanding of the word ‘pregnant’.That is good.All the best
A gud job…kudos to u…
Wow! Got me smiling as the story revealed true CREATIVITY!
Really lovely piece.
Keep it up.nd wich u̶̲̥̅̊ success
Dats a splendid one dear.kudos 2 u&kip it up
So far, this is one of the few that have maintained the tempo. Too much clarity of mind in many of the entries, they didn’t fit in with the original story. Well done.
nice one, u’ll make a good story teller…
Well I think this is very much ingenuine and sanguine…..it is a smaller reflection of large scale denial ans split personality crises experienced by many sane people in our scieity….good work.
Well I think this is very much ingenuine and sanguine…..it is a smaller reflection of large scale denial and split personality crises experienced by many sane people in our scieity….good work.
Well I think this is very much ingenuine and sanguine…..it is a smaller reflection of large scale denial ans split personality crises experienced by many sane people in our society….good work.