The living witness

Episode 09 — Was it the rain?  It was a breezy Saturday evening. The cloud was dark and thick that it rumbled steadily. My 13year old self was already so excited of the rain party which would go down that evening if it rained eventually. Some clouds dribbled but fumbled and would not bring rain. I hoped this one would not disappoint.  'Junior, have you drank that agbo (herbal mix) I left on your table since yesterday?', my mummy asked in a really serious tone, entering the living room where I was, glued to the TV screen. 'erm...um..', I stuttered 'Oor, you're doing yourself o, something that you'll just pour inside that stainless cup and gulp it down, if you like be complaining of headache o, you hear?' she sat down on the three-seater sofa. The weather was not only great for a rain party, it was superb for watching a favorite movie all cuddled up. 'Ewo tun le leyii? Which one is this one?', she asked, as though she was truly intere...

Episode 08 - When I Was Twelve  The phone rang. I stood up from where I was reading in the dining and quickly ran to give him his phone outside, where he was gisting with my mum. "Daddy, Big Mummy is calling you." I gave him the phone. Answering the call, my dad started a discussion with his sister. "Hello my Aunt, hope you're doing well, how about my younger ones." He continued in our native language, Yoruba.  "Ola, please put this cup inside for me." My mother said as I was about to go inside. I took the cup from her and took it inside. After about five hours, it was 10:00pm, my parents were already within the building. He informed us that Mrs Adeniyi, his sister, would be visiting on the morrow. Astonished and elated, with strong passion and rigour, we were moved to arrange and rearrange the whole house, especially the guest room.  We couldn't sleep early that night as we anticipated their arrival the next day.  The D-day came. Since...

Episode 07 - Leemao   He lied on the floor as his dad kept landing blows with both fists to his face. He was bleeding all over, the thoughts of why he didn't just stay in school kept coming to his mind. He shouted begging his dad, but he was more than ready to kill him. It all started one summer, my boys said we should go jogging through a distance of about fifteen kilometres. I laughed at them with the thoughts of how that could even be possible. Then I saw Olamide, the girl I've had a crush on, from my first year in the University.  She was the complete definition of a woman: beautiful to behold; meticulous in intelligence and dramatic in dexterity; her agile yet fragile body blend with the figure eight shape and her perfect, well carved curves. I'd give her a ten anytime, any day. Olamide took a swipe at Jeff, my best friend and asked if we were going for a jog. I immediately replied yes. I couldn't imagine what came over me; whether it was the feeling of...

Episode 06 It was a windy evening. The ground just drank a bout of rain. One could smell the burnt okra soup, coming from a neighbouring house.  "Phew, what kind of smell is this." He said, as he stood up to take a bottle of water. Their dog came around and started to lick his feet.  "Stop it jare ." He shouted  but the playful dog continued even further.  "Kola! Kola!! Come here." His father beckoned on him. He left the dog and ran inside the house. There had been no light since the morning. The transformer supplying their area had blown off and it was glaring that there would be no light unless it was fixed.  "Go to the room. Take a five hundred naira note from my wallet, go and buy fuel, so we can switch on the generator."  He took the cash, got a keg from the backyard and walked out of the gate.  As he walked on the street, he started thinking about his new phone. His father just bought a phone, and he promised to give him once he...

  One could not but notice his anxiety: from the tiny little sweats that acervated to form droplets of oily waters; to the shakiness, plus tremors, dancing his hands to and fro. His legs were not left untouched too. The cover of his pen was already hurt, having suffered damage due to an unintentional tensed clenching of his teeth on the innocent rubber. The answer script was tainted with water. Despite the enormity of the paper, it was only his name that he had written.  As he raised up his head, what he saw were serious minded, roughly grin-faced individuals whose fast paced pens and sharp pencils danced rigorously to the tune of their mind. Each one swiped his booklet with such dexterity and it continuously made a solo for the calm, cool and serene atmosphere in the hall. All hands were filled with inky imprints and their heads were bent, inclined adjacent to their papers.  Francis is a Yoruba demon who schooled in the city of Akure. He was widely acclaimed ...

"Ada, come and buy pepper for me," Her mother said.  "Send Ene, or am I the youngest here?" She took a swipe at the woman she calls her mother.  "Okay Ene, take the money and buy pepper for me." I was bitter and annoyed. I stood up sluggishly and collected the fifty naira note from her hand.  As I strolled along the street of Elele Town, I wondered why I came as the penultimate child. My sister was an arrogant monster who was so lazy to do the house chores. The only thing she knew was spending time on WhatsApp, telling people 'what's up'; she is always blushing while texting. Her cachinnate gestures were the most annoying to me. She claimed to be the Queen  of the house but there was no dignity or a sensible character in her.  My younger brother was a tyrant: a man of many stomachs; ever eating, never satisfied. His case was even worse.  As young as he was, every tongue of errands that spoke to him was always met with rebuff. Excep...

One could start with a pair of shoes sitting on his chair, clothes scattered abroad like sprinkled water. One could also notice a pack of biscuit nylon situated adjacent to Dele’s head. However, what mattered to him was the extravagant jingling and ringing of the bell by his father. Mr Akin yawned as he rang the bell but the sound spread quickly like a bedspread across the house. Everyone including myself came to the sitting room to take our morning devotion, after which we will go on to prepare for school. It was 7 minutes past 7am when I got out of the bathroom. I would have to leave home by 7:30pm if I don’t want to be late for school. I had everything planned out and it had always worked out for me. As I wanted to wear my socks, I found out that they were dirty as always, so I took a soap from the kitchen, silently washed them and pressed them with an iron. It was a bad habit but was comfortable nonetheless. I took to my heels to arrive at the gate as the punctuality pr...