I don’t know whether it is something to be happy with or not. The blood that prevents Rosco from coming has stopped coming.
“Were eleyi tunti bere niyen”… he hisses and goes away angrily. He doesn’t pay. Well who cares about the money. I only miss the thing more than I even miss home self.
I don’t give a damn that those sick people passing would continue to cover their nose the more when nothing smells. I bent slowly and emptied my bowels, maybe the third, fourth or sixth time and it is not yet ten in the morning. Seems I’ve lost counting.
I don’t think it is aboki’s tea that is causing the interruptions from the reportage of this new mad woman in town. Even times when akara and akamu used to be the order of the day, it was always a full bowl consumption. God bless Mama Emeka wherever she is.
With smiles and my N5 to offer, she would fill my bowl to the brim. Oh my bowl! May it not be well with that Rosco’s colleague who used it to pour water into his engine while I was asleep. Not even that big fool himself who dare try it if not for sleep.
It was shattered into pieces by another unfortunate colleague. On waking up, I didn’t see the pieces on the road, neither the bowl. I won’t confront him, but I won’t forgive him.
All that is history now. Even the aboki’s indomie and egg has been tasteless in recent times. It seems the Boko Haram people shout at him has been affecting his recipe. I wish they stop using those words.
What a sight! I wish I could tell Rosco when he comes back in the evening to enjoy that thing with me. It is not as if I don’t look forward to our evening “sessions” together. But how much would it be sweeter if he would ask whether I’ve eaten and demand to know how home has been when he has been away. When would Rosco stop being a fool?
Well, he is enough source of happiness and asking for more might be asking for too much. At least the comfort at night. He thinks he is on top of me, but I am sure whenever those poundings take place, I am on top of the world. And most importantly, the monetary incentive to buy from aboki is always a pleasure of a life time.
I didn’t want to miss the next scene, but urination
Hmnnn….Oluwa saanu fun wa, a tall bearded man mused as he made an attempt to cross away from my frontage, looking at me in bewilderment and shaking his head in no particular direction as if trying to show some pity to the dancing woman.
Then the other mad women that are half-naked and men, raising something up that looks like a small metal and focusing it on the woman dancing. Only God knows that kind of madness.