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A hair’s breadth

Emeka woke up with a start. He pulled the blinds in his room apart and looked outside. The day was bright. He cursed under his breath as he sat up. He picked up his phone which lay on the headboard and looked at it. The time read 6.45a.m. He hissed. It was too late to try rushing to meet up. Even if he could fly to the airport right now, he would not make it. He thought about the amount he had to pay for a no-show and he hissed again. He stood up from his bed and cursed.

He remembered setting his phone alarm to 5.00a.m last night. His luggage was already packed and he had put it beside the door. He could not fathom how sleep had decided to play a fast one on him.

He walked to the bathroom. As he plastered toothpaste on his brush, he picked up the remote control on the bathroom shelf and switched on the TV in the living room. A newscaster was reading the news and Emeka noticed “Breaking news” in caps scrolling behind her. He increased the volume of the TV as he continued to brush.

“…… the Enugu bound plane carrying about 93 passengers crashed a few minutes after take off and…..” Emeka spat out the paste in his mouth as he moved closer to the TV with his brush in his hand. His vision blurred and the images on the TV danced before him. He felt something wet on his left foot and he looked down and realized his mouth had been agape. He ignored the paste on his foot and put his two hands on his head.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” He cried out.

Image result for near death images man shutterstock

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Photo Credit: https://www.sciencealert.com

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Death wish

The aroma of Tolu’s food wafted out of her kitchen into the nostrils of the other students in the block. It was a block of six flats occupied by students of the University of Lagos. While some students stayed on campus, some preferred to have a home away from home. They rented apartments outside which were close to the school campus.

Tolu heard the knock on her door as she prepared to settle down to consume the bowl of semovita and ilá àsèpò that she had just cooked. She knew who was at the door. There was no need asking. She ignored the knocks.

As she put each chunk of semo into her mouth, the intensity of the knocks increased. She got upset and walked to the kitchen to wash her hands. The persistent knocking continued as she strolled towards the door and opened it.

“Haba Tolu, why didn’t you open the door on time nau?” Feyi asked as her eyes searched round the room like a thief looking for something to steal.

“Ahn…ahn, so you are eating without me now? No wonder.” Feyi continued as she walked to the kitchen, washed her hands and settled down before the bowl of food. She dipped her hand in and began to cut the semo in large chunks, swallowing them in quick succession.

Tolu looked at her without a word.

 

The next day, Tolu walked into Feyi’s flat without knocking. She knew the door was always open during the day.  It was locked only at night. Tolu cleared her throat to announce her presence. Feyi, who was lying down on the floor reading a novel looked up.

“Wassup?” Feyi asked as she dropped her novel on the floor.

“Nothing much. I came to pick up a few things.” Tolu said as she walked towards the kitchen.

“Ehen! You did not keep anything here.” Feyi replied as she stood up and followed Tolu.

Tolu had come with three big polythene bags. She opened the kitchen cabinet and started to empty everything she saw into the polythene bags. Garri, rice, beans, spaghetti, curry, thyme, maggi etc.

“Ahn…ahn…what are you doing nau?” Feyi shouted.

“I am packing the foodstuff we would need for the month.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

Tolu stopped and looked at her. “Pick one. I pack the foodstuffs we would need and you can continue coming to eat your lunch in my place or I poison the meal, so you can die and leave me in peace.”

Feyi’s jaw dropped. “Haba! It hasn’t come to this nau. You should have just told me that you don’t need my company during lunch.”

Tolu burst out into hysterical laughter.

“What is funny? Please just drop my foodstuffs. I won’t come to your flat again.”

“No ma. This is to replace everything you have eaten in the last one month. You can decide not to come again from today.” Tolu said as she began to walk towards the door.

Feyi stood in front of the door and tried to stop her from going out.

“Feyi, don’t try me. You know me from way back in secondary school and you know that I can redesign your face if I get upset.”

Feyi frowned as she moved away from the door. Tolu was known as “mama fighter” in secondary school. Feyi watched helplessly as Tolu strolled out of her apartment with all the foodstuff in her kitchen cabinet in the polythene bags.

As Feyi locked the door to her flat, she decided she did not want to die yet. It was better to stay away than get poisoned.

——

Photo Credit: http://www.familydoctor.org

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The Choice of Freedom

Bisola looked at her husband of thirteen years with confusion clearly written on her face. “Was he serious about what he just said?” She thought. “Where had she missed it?” “Was this a result of something going on that she had been blind to?” So many questions that begged for answers.

Ikechukwu walked out of the house and slammed the door behind him. Bisola looked on unable to stop him. Her husband’s statements had torn her and she wondered what she was supposed to do.

******

Ten years ago, Ikechukwu and Bisola had a registry wedding followed by a small reception for close family and friends. It was an agreement between both of them to cut out the unnecessary expenses associated with large weddings and save for their future and that of their kids. They had both prevailed on both families to agree to their decision. It had been difficult for Ikechukwu’s family to accept as he was the first son of the family but he had been adamant. His family insinuated that Bisola was the one manipulating  him do a small wedding. He however explained to them that Bisola’s father also wanted a large wedding but after consultations, her father had agreed to what he proposed. He therefore, told them if his proposed father-in-law could agree; they had no choice but to consent as well.

Ikechukwu worked as a top executive in a commercial bank while Bisola was a sales executive in a pharmaceutical company. In four years, Bisola gave birth to three boys in quick succession. Ikechukwu asked her to take a break from work so that she could give their kids undivided attention. He said he did not like the idea of maids taking care of his kids. Bisola agreed and resigned her job to take care of the home.

However, Bisola knew that she couldn’t sit at home and do nothing while tending to her kids. She therefore, wrote professional exams and acquired entrepreneurial skills. She started bead-making from the money she had saved over time and soon, she became sought after by all and sundry because of her penchant for durable products.

 

Everything was going well for the family of five until last year when Ikechukwu lost his job at the bank as a result of a mass restructuring programme. Ikechukwu became depressed. Bisola tried to cheer her husband up by asking him to invest their joint savings in a business. Bisola advised that they invest in a poultry business which would bring steady income but Ikechukwu wanted more. He couldn’t wait for a gradual increase in their profits. This caused a friction between them as Bisola was skeptical about the business he wanted to invest in.

 

After many weeks of friction in their marriage, Bisola agreed reluctantly and signed the cheque authorizing Ikechukwu to withdraw eighty percent of their savings. In four weeks, Ikechukwu realized he had been scammed and their whole savings of about ten years went down the drain. Bisola was devastated. Their last son had just gained admission into the secondary school. Their upkeep at home had been solely from her bead-making business which had expanded over time.

 

Just when everything seemed to be going downhill, Bisola received a call from an old friend. Her friend told her that a marketing manager was needed in her organization. The company was a pharmaceutical company of repute and she asked Bisola to forward her CV to her. Bisola immediately brushed up her CV and sent it to her friend by email. She hoped and prayed for the much needed break.

Two weeks later, Bisola was invited for an interview and in a month, she received a letter of appointment with a decent salary and an official car. She got home to share the good news with her husband. She had intimated him about the call and had carried him along but she noticed he had been indifferent.

 

Bisola looked at the letter of appointment opened on her laptop. Ikechukwu couldn’t be serious about her having to choose between the job and him. She had listened to him when he asked her to resign her job years ago to take care of the kids. The kids were in boarding house and the last one was going to join them in September. “Why was he being selfish?” She thought. She understood that his inability to provide for them like he used to was depressing for him but now that she had an opportunity to assist financially, why was he giving her an option of choosing between him and a job.

Bisola put her hand on her head as she contemplated on what to do. No, she wasn’t going to reject the offer. She would plead with her husband when he returned to listen to the voice of reason. She prayed in her heart that his ego would not stand in the way.

——

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The Party

The grey Lexus jeep drove out of the expansive compound. The driver looked to the left and to the right before turning towards the express way. Just as the car was about to hit the express, a man on a power bike parked at the end of the street whipped out his mobile phone from the pocket of his pants and placed a call. He adjusted the ear piece in his left ear as he spoke. He nodded as he put the phone back into his pocket and kicked the engine. He put on his helmet and followed after the car keeping a safe distance.

The driver kept his speed limit at forty kilometres even though the road was free. The car turned into a hospital off the expressway and the driver parked the car. He got out and rushed to open the boot. He brought out a motorized wheel chair, shut the boot and rolled the chair towards the back door on the right hand side of the car. He opened the door to reveal a bulky handsome man. His eyes were tired even though he masked it with a smile. He was greying at the temple and his hair looked like a comb had just passed through it. He was wearing a blue collared T-shirt on brown corduroy pants. The pair of canvas on his feet spoke volumes about his taste.

The driver held on to the wheel chair while the bulky man hoisted himself into it. Once he was settled in, he placed his hand on the joystick and powered the chair while his driver tagged behind him.

The biker stopped a few metres away from the hospital and placed another call. “Yes, he is in.” He waited to get a response before replying. “Okay, I am waiting.” He put his right hand under his jacket, felt for what he had kept in there and smiled to himself.

 

The bulky man drove himself into the reception of Rainbow Physio centre. The receptionist seated facing the glass doors immediately looked up from the laptop in front of her when the door chimed. “Good afternoon, Mr. Giwa. How are you doing today, sir?” She asked cheerily.

“I’m fine, thank you Atinuke. I have an appointment with Dr. Okechukwu for 1.00p.m”

Atinuke’s fingers hit the keyboard of her laptop as they moved quickly. She paused as she looked up at Mr. Giwa. “1.00pm today?”

“Yes today.” Mr. Giwa replied.

“I’m sorry sir. There must have been a mistake. Your appointment is not for today. It is scheduled for 1.00pm tomorrow.”

“Oh my! Really? I thought…..” Mr. Giwa was saying before he paused. He put his right hand on his chin. “I am sure the appointment is for today.”

“It is right here sir.” Atinuke said; tapping her forefinger on the screen of her laptop. “Dr. Okechukwu’s calendar is blocked for you tomorrow, Thursday at 1.00pm.” She continued.

“Okay dear. I hope I’m not beginning to……”

Atinuke looked up from her laptop. “Sir?”

“Never mind dear. I was talking to myself. I’ll be here tomorrow then.” He said as he turned his wheel chair towards the door.

“Have a good day, sir.” Atinuke called out as the automatic doors opened.

Mr. Giwa replied with a wave of his hand.

 

The driver rushed to open the door of the car while Mr. Giwa helped himself in. The wheel chair was rolled back and lifted into the back of the SUV.

“We are going back home, Leke.” Mr. Giwa said when his driver eased into the car.

“Okay sir.”

********

“He’s leaving the hospital. Are you ready?” The biker spoke into his phone. He waited for a response.

“Yes, there is a bit of traffic. Maybe twenty minutes.” He continued.

“Okay, that is fine.” He concluded as he rubbed his gloved palms together and put his helmet back on.

 

The trip back home took longer than twenty minutes. About hundred metres away from Mr. Giwa’s residence, the biker trailing him sped up and blocked the way just as the driver was about to get to the gate.

“What is going on?” Mr. Giwa said; his voice shaky.

“I don’t know, sir.” Leke responded and tried to maneuver his way but the biker was already walking towards them.

Mr. Giwa checked the doors to see if they were locked. The biker knocked on the driver’s window. Leke shakily put his hand on the window button and rolled it down. He lifted up his hands immediately. “Please don’t kill me. I will give you whatever you want.” He shouted; his voice unsteady.

The biker looked at him. “I’m not hurting you. I want to see Mr. Giwa.”

The driver looked at the rear-view mirror to look at Mr. Giwa’s face. “Sir?”

“I have a message for him.” The biker said.

Mr. Giwa looked at the driver’s eyes which were still on the rear-view mirror. He raised his hand to signal to the driver. The driver took the cue and nodded to the back.

The biker walked to the other side of the car and Mr. Giwa wound down his window with a button. The biker put his right hand under his jacket and Mr. Giwa froze. The biker’s gloved hand revealed a tablet and he pressed on a button before he handed it over to Mr. Giwa.

Mr. Giwa hesitated but the biker pushed the tablet into his hands.

As Mr. Giwa took the tablet, he saw the faces of his grandchildren smiling at him. Someone was recording them and they all chorused “Happy 70th birthday grandpa. We love you.”

Mr. Giwa’s countenance changed instantly as a smile spread across his face and he looked at the man who had delivered the tablet.

“Happy birthday sir.” The biker said as he nodded and took a step backward. He turned to walk towards his power bike which still blocked the entrance to Mr. Giwa’s residence. He picked up the power bike, climbed on it and zoomed off while Mr. Giwa and Leke watched in amazement.

 

Leke put his hand on his chest as he took a deep breath. He put the gear in drive and moved closer to the Giwa’s residence. He honked and the gateman rolled the gate open. As the car drove in, Mr. Giwa looked around him in shock. There was a huge canopy erected inside his compound. A flurry of activities lay to the left and to the right. A band was playing at the far end of his compound singing solemn praises to God. Rows of chafing dishes lined every corner and waiters stood behind them. A different set of waiters were serving cocktails to guests; some were seated while some were standing and exchanging pleasantries. Mr. Giwa could not believe what was happening around him.

Leke parked the car and retrieved the chair from the boot as he assisted Mr. Giwa in getting settled into it.

“Hello, Mr. Giwa.” Dr. Okechukwu said as he walked towards his patient who had powered the chair and was already moving towards the activities.

“Doc? You were part of this?” Mr. Giwa asked astonished.

“Of course. I wouldn’t allow my patient miss his 70th birthday party because of an appointment, would I? The doctor said as he smiled.

The band noticed Mr. Giwa and started singing a happy birthday song for the celebrant. All the guests who were seated stood up and joined the birthday chorus.

As the chorus ended, Mr. Giwa’s grandchildren and children all hugged him one by one as they wished him a happy birthday. Mrs. Giwa stood behind her last child and as her husband got his last hug, he smiled at his wife. She looked beautifully wrinkled and her eyes twinkled with love. She walked up to her husband and bent down to plant a passionate kiss on his lips.

“I love you darling.” Mr. Giwa whispered.

“I hope I didn’t give you a scare.” Mrs. Giwa asked.

“Oh, you definitely did.” Mr. Giwa said taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry darling. Please relax and be calm, it’s your party.”

Mr. Giwa looked at his wife as he held on to her hand and smiled.

“You deserve the best. Happy birthday, my love.” Mrs. Giwa said.

——-

Photo Credit: http://www.istock.com

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The grass cutter

The clock in Chinaza’s room struck midnight. Chinaza stood up and moved slowly along the wall of his room. He picked up the cutlass lying by his stove carefully. The intruder on the other side of his door was going to visit his ancestors today; he thought.

Every morning, he woke up to meet trash dumped in front of his door. He had accused the neighbours a number of times and each time, every one of them denied the allegations against them. This night, he was going to catch whoever was dumping trash in front of his door red-handed.

The moon was full and it illuminated the corridor of the face-to-face rooms where Chinaza had moved in six months ago. He was grateful for the full moon because that would enable him see the intruder clearly and unmistakably.

He held the door knob gently and opened the door carefully trying not to startle the intruder. Just a swipe of the cutlass and the intruder would forever regret making his abode his dustbin.

As the door creaked open, Chinaza came face to face with a large grass cutter. He lifted up his cutlass as the grass cutter made a frightened attempt to run away. The cutlass landed squarely on the tail of the grass cutter, cutting it off totally. Suddenly, there was a loud scream from the room opposite Chinaza’s.

the-grass-cutter

The scream continued to rise in crescendo waking up the sleeping neighbours who all came out of their rooms groggily to meet Chinaza with a blood-stained cutlass. “Wetin dey happen for hia?” The landlord barked as he walked out of his room with a wrapper tied around his lower body.

“I am also wondering.” Chinaza said still holding his cutlass.

“Wetin you dey do with cutlass for this time of the night?”

“I wanted to catch the intruder dropping trash in front of my door every night. I caught a large grass cutter and hit it on the tail; only to hear screaming from Baba Jojo’s room.”

The scream continued to emanate from Baba Jojo’s room and the neighbours all agreed to find out what the problem was. They knocked the door but got no response. They banged on the door but no one opened. After about ten minutes, the screaming died down. The landlord ordered that the door be broken down.

The door was broken down to reveal Baba Jojo lying down on the floor of his room with a deep cut on his leg. Blood streamed out of the cut. He had bled to death.

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Photo Credit: http://www.nairaland.com

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When the sun shines

The sun beat hard and we felt the heat in the air-conditioned vehicle. It seemed the sun was intent on unleashing on the occupants of the earth. The air-conditioner had little effect even though it was working at the lowest temperature. I wiped my brow and looked at my kids. I felt sorry for them but we were better off this way than with the air-conditioner switched off and the windows rolled down. The heat outside could be better imagined than felt.

As we were about to descend a slope, the car in front of me danced backwards trying to maneuver the edge of the slope. It was a red saloon car. I am very poor at brand of cars, so I would leave the brand to your imagination. Three men were seated at the back while the driver and a passenger sat in front. The car got stuck and its tyres rolled in the sand whipping up dust. I backed up a bit as I realized the car would need to do same and re-maneuver its way.

Why don’t the guys at the back just get out of the car so it makes it easier for the driver to maneuver the edge of the slope; I thought.

I stood still as there was no other way around unless I faced oncoming vehicles. I decided to wait it out till they got their act together. Besides, I wasn’t in a hurry. I moved back again to free up more space for the car. The car started to reverse and I waited for the driver to re-maneuver his tyres. Instead, the driver kept on reversing without looking backwards. I pressed on the horn continuously until it happened like lightning.

When the sun shines

I thought I was watching a movie where I happened to be the main actor. My jaw dropped as I saw glass shatter. The car had backed up till it hit my car. I was driving a four runner which had protective metal guard rails. The heat of the sun coupled with the force with which the car hit the metal guard rails caused the rear windshield to shatter into little pieces. The three men seated at the back seat looked at me. They got down from the car and it had a free ride down the slope. So what were they thinking before? I thought as I rolled my eyes.

I drove down the slope and the three guys were by my side in a jiffy. “Where do you think you are going?” One of them asked. “Excuse me!” I responded.

“Can’t you see what you have done to our car?”

“What I did to your car?” I asked in astonishment. “I am sure everyone who witnessed the accident is aware that you reversed into my car”.

“You can’t go away. You have to pay for it”. Another said.

I looked at them like they are speaking in another language. “Pay for what?” I asked. “I should be asking you to pay if my lights are broken”.

At this point, other drivers who witnessed the accident, got down from their vehicles to talk to the guys harassing me. “Leave her alone”. One shouted. “She kept on pressing her horn”. Another said. “How person go dey reverse and he no go look back?” “And all of you siddon for back, una no fit get down”. “Why all of you comot when the glass don break?” “Which driving school una go sef”. Different voices scolding the men.

The driver who was all along checking the extent of the damage to his car came to meet me. I waited expecting him to join his friends in the blame game. “I’m sorry madam for the harassment. You can go”. He said. “I am sorry about your vehicle”. I responded and drove off.

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Photo Credit: http://www.jaguar-swansea.co.uk