Entry 43 by Felix Omokaro

My belly is getting bigger. I feel kicks inside my tummy. I really think I am mad because how would someone kick another person and the other can’t tell where from.

I have not felt like smoking that weed for long. I feel very hungry these days, but I don’t want aboki’s indomie anymore. Rosco no longer calls me to his car and I do not get the N100 naira he used to squeeze in my hand. I have not been seeing Rosco.

I hear those men that come to drink tea and eat bread at aboki’s place talk about my belly. They wonder how a mad woman became pregnant; they wonder who was responsible; they wonder how a man in his right senses would pass all women to sleep with a mad woman. Some say “E go be all these big men wey dey do rituals. Dem need mad woman to sleep with to make money”. But they don’t know it is Rosco. They don’t know sleeping with Rosco is the sweetest thing in the world.

In this my smelly place, all those women who chase me away when I go near their shops gather around me as I lie down on the floor shouting. I feel an excruciating pain in my lower belly.

I hear the cry of a child. It is a boy they say. I did not look forward to the day anyone would always be with me. I am happy for once that someone does not have anything to say about me, may be because he is not able to talk. But he cries a lot and I have to breast feed him. I hold him a lot.

Since small Rosco came here I have not seen Rosco. I see the other older men but not Rosco. I suspect he comes here because he cannot do without smoking that igbo. I know he will still like me to do to him what that igbo cannot do. He will still be shaking that his dreadlocked head.

One day as I was out to get food I saw a man who was crossing the road and a car hit him. Everybody started shouting but the car did not stop. I started to hear Rosco’s name. I go over to look and I see Rosco on the floor. But he cannot move. He is dead.

Small Rosco did not meet big Rosco. But I am sure Rosco knew small Rosco was coming. He does not look like that Rosco with his rough dreadlocks.

I have lived in this house with small Rosco but he is no longer here. He has been taken away. They say it is not good for him. They say he cannot stay with a mad woman. They say he is not like his mother. Where would he get another mother? It is only small Rosco that will not look at me shaking his head. I will wait here till small Rosco comes again.

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