GREENLAND

I hate proud and pompous people especially celebrities, having spent a reasonable part of my life at the Queen’s Shed Cafe in North London, I’ve met several local and international celebrities who have an overdose of such stupendous idiosyncrasy. One morning during the winter, a tall white dude came into the shed, he was very tall that he had to bend his long neck to pass through the door post and despite the weather the paparazzi were all over the place, taking several pictures, some were standing, some kneeling, some were taking pictures from their cars while some just stood, frozen and shivering with their cameras in their hands and in anticipation of a new move by this tall dude. Well, he sat just beside the chimney and ordered for a cup of coffee and classic bourbon creams, a lady came in almost immediately and sat on the same table with the white dude, she looked quite older and sophisticated, i tried to steal a glimpse at what car she brought but it was already a festival outside, with press men and camera men all around the place.

"Hey! Another cup of coffee" he called out to me, and without wasting time I went straight and brought the coffee,’ more classic bourbons for my lady'' he said again and I went back and got them immediately

'Have this..."he said, stretching out a 5 pounds note

‘‘Keep the rest...have a life with it, or you want this?'' (Raising a toy banana key holder)

‘‘Oh...thanks'' I replied, feeling rather disgusted, what sort of life would I have with 2 pounds and what’s the banana gesture for? I thought rather aloud while the whole pressmen and camera men listen

'You said something'' he asked

‘‘Oh no, not at all''

   My shyness wouldn't keep stopping me from speaking my mind; I just wished I could lambast him for uttering that phrase. Well, i have a clue of what it is to be an attendant in one of the traditional cafes in London. Things are more different here though, four years ago I was a business owner in Beijing and everything was near perfect, starting up an African cane chair room, but the dream life didn't last for long, because i had a big problem identifying Chinese debtors, Chinese people are like photocopies of themselves and yet they look like originals of several photocopies, so several times i accused the wrong people and often times i got carted away in the police van. Life in Greenland is often like that, that was what my friend told me and I kept wondering when Greenland would be my homeland. In the summer of the same year I left the debris of my life in Beijing and went to the east. Russia is one of the places you want to visit before you leave the world, saw a beautiful Moscow from the moment I stepped at the airport and i had thought of seeing several other places like the Valley of Geysers and Baikal Lake someday, but from the moment i stepped on Lipetsk Airport I had wondered if there was anything better in Moscow than the first sight you behold. Racism was at its peak and everyone seemed uninterested talking to blacks, at a point I thought it must be hidden somewhere in their constitution not to ever be attentive to a black man but out of two evil one is better, the weather in Russia was worse, so I never worked before I left, always busy shivering at a chimney-less house that i got for the price of a 14 inches Macbook, just for a month.

  London is more interesting though, everything works for the government here, at the detriment of yourself, the tax might just be a three alphabet word but it could  take a man from hero to zero, that’s why i just have to swallow my pride in the face of it all. I’ll face the meanest of insults and racial abuse just to own a living and pay my share of tax. I met uncle Fidelis two months ago along Fulham road and pleaded with him to accommodate me in his house but he told me what I’ve always heard since i got to London 'This is London my brother, everyone for himself’. Well, it's true everyone for himself, because i can't see myself accommodating anyone now that i have an apartment with a low income out of which that little devil called TAX would evolve. I ask myself sometimes, how do i go back home after these many years in Greenland without having anything to show for it, anything in this context is lots of millions to build a house, buy properties, acquire a car and raise your standard above your peers, that’s everything in the Nigerian context. Everyone believes Greenland is a goldmine, that’s why everyone struggles to get out of their homeland and they would sleep over at embassies just to get an interview to leave Nigeria, to leave their home for the battlefield, they believe the white man's land is a sure bet to riches but people like me and my friend, Uzodinma, who voluntarily showed up for deportation after frustration think otherwise.

   So after the tall white man's racial insult, i did my usual, went into the convenience room and came back with my soaked handkerchief, insults like that make me cry, just as I got back in, Ms. Shelley noticed my red eyeballs and came over to console me, she never bothered to ask what happened because it all happened right in her presence as she fancied sitting at the Cafe like a customer, flipping through pages of newspapers, by this time Ms. Shelley identified the man as Mark Coster Ray, the popular British cricketer. I am not a cricket fan so to me his name was more popular than his face. Ms. Shelley said life in the Cafe is a life of insult and she has had her share of it despite changing her name to Shelley from Adaora. Mark stood up with his woman and left the Cafe while all the pressmen didn't bother to come to me for  any interview,  I am so irrelevant in London' ,I think.

The next morning my photograph appeared in the Newspaper for the first time in my life, alas for the wrong reason, there were several newspapers with pictures of me collecting money from Mark with an unbelievable smile and different weird headlines...Mark tips Queen's attendant, British Mark helps soul brother, Mark the giver...

 "For God sake, where is Mark's fucking statement and the banana?" Ms. Shelley screamed as she read one of the photo-shopped papers.

Drop your comments pls.

WebRep

currentVote

noRating

noWeight