There are things we
can't change and things we don't want to change. Things we could have changed
and things we dare not change due to the satisfaction we derive from them. Like
spending my Sunday morning at home, sweating profusely on a supposed chorister
from one of the new generation churches on the eve of christmas, whao! That was
fun and it's one of those things you don't get a chance to do often. As
clock alarm beeped and she jumped off the bed and off to the reading table to
check the time.
I knew already it was past 2pm, i deliberately set the alarm
clock to 2pm when she insisted that i should set it to 1pm.She was apparently angry, and
she grabbed her make-up bag and went to the convenience room. I was peeping
through the torn part of the duvet and i couldn't keep my eyes off her naked
body as she made for the convenience room.She was such a beautiful lady and i
would love to see her body grace my bed every Sunday if she would find pleasure in staying away from church, moreover she would be on the pulpit the next Sunday with the choir. She came back into the room almost
immediately and hit me to wake up, i stretched, pretending i was just waking up
after a short nap. She couldn't even ask about what happened to the alarm
clock, she just said she had to leave and didn't look back afterward, i just
heard several doors banging, the last of which was the entrance door, she was
gone.
I rolled off the bed
and brought out a roll of weed that i kept in my shoe, but i couldn't get any
paper to smoke it, I reached for my bible and tore out the first page and
rolled my weed in it, my eyes stumbled on Exodus 1, "oh my Gosh!" i'm
done with the whole of Genesis, that's quite an unremarkable achievement, one
of my bed-friends, Latifah, presented me the bible on my birthday just a month
back and knowing she wouldn't be happy to see the bible half-torn, i just
tore out a couple of pages and went to the backyard to burn the rest, smoking
my weed while i watched it burn to ashes. After i saw the last page of Revelation
folding into the hot hands of fire i puffed my last weed, threw it on the
burning bible and marched the fire to extinguish it and i took my leave.
I went back to bed to
have a good sleep, preparing for the night to come. The whole room seemed so filled
and noisy like the Oshodi, the most populated part of Lagos and when i
jumped on the bed it was like throwing myself down the third mainland bridge, i
was talking to everyone on the street, yet no one heard me nor gave me any
attention ,so i just perched at a corner and tried to doze off, i just loved
the feelings i got after 'weedin' like the whole world was at my feet. I woke
up very late, realising the corner i perched was on the floor almost half way
underneath the bed. Latifah actually woke me up by banging heavily on the door,
i jumped up and ran into the kitchen to gargle my mouth with dry gin, she never
liked me smoking weed so i held the bottle of dry gin and went to open the door
she was saying a lot of things at the same time but her Yoruba sounded like
Burmese this time around so i didn't bother asking what she was saying, i just
went straight into the room and dropped like a dead man on the rug.We talked
afterward and spent some time exchanging the messy sweat on our naked body, we
didn't do anything different. Our sex life was so stereotyped that i could
predict how everything would turn out the moment she said she would be coming
over to my place. We never made out anywhere else apart from the bed and we
never changed position apart from the orthodox mummy and daddy, she was just an
homegrown local, call her RAZZ.
That night i went to
work and got home pretty late, it was around 1:22am and i had been beaten to
stupor when i was caught in the act, i was only saved by the slightest
opportunity when i fell into a ditch and the person holding me lost the grab. I
had petrol smelling all over my body, someone was ready to roast me out. My
lips were broken and my ribs were hurting, many parts of my body was oozing out
blood and i spent a handful of time cleaning up. I went to the kitchen and
grabbed a small bottle of dry gin and it hurt my mouth as it went down my
throat. I sat on the kitchen floor and smoked a couple of cigarette while the
dry gin travelled down my throat, i marched on the last cigarette and reached
for my pocket but i could only feel my bare skin through the torn pocket, no
money left in it, even the one i had gotten before i was caught had been
stolen, so i chuckled..."thief rob thief" i said to myself in pidgin,
laughing quietly as i made for my room,i couldn't find sleep nor comfort on my
bed so i went back to the past, through memory lane.
Many times in my past I
had perpetuated many crimes and atrocities but i never saw myself choking from
them, i loved life more than myself but i never thought i would live to see
another day, everyday. I said to myself over and over again, I shall die, unless
i repent but repentance was just a mere word of admittance ,i never gave it a
real thought. I just enjoyed my life of atrocities and crimes, a life of weed,
sex and gin. That night i turned to my bed side to reach for my bible and i
couldn't get one apart from the couple of pages i tore out,i had torn out
exactly what i needed, it was psalms 118:17 and says 'i shall not die but live
and declare the works of the Lord' so i closed my eyes so tight and silently
prayed to God for forgiveness, hoping for once i would embrace life over death.
After the prayer, the thoughts of the previous night sneaked into my mind once
again, i thought I was so lucky to have escaped death through the ditch after
my ploy to rob a woman of her hand bag boomeranged and again i reached for my
torn pocket and felt nothing but my bare skin and thought out loud "Thief
rob thief" i laughed mildly as my stomach hurt badly... I embraced my
bible and went under the duvet. Perhaps i would visit the church next Sunday and say Hi to God, so on Judgement day God won't ask me "Who are you?" .
4 comments:
Nyz 1 bro
Weldone. This is nice.
Lol...nyc
Thanks guys
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