Boy

Fifteen of June was a special date in my life, not just because it was our founder’s day at school, when we would be opportune to eat more food at school, but it was equally my father’s birthday. That of 1996 was a special one. I was meant to have a test at school. It was my second test in SS 2, and I had prepared quite well for it. As a fourteen years old teenager I knew that a re-test was usually ill prepared for and with promotion at the back of my mind, I studied studiously the night before, studying from 8pm till 4am only to take a nap for one hour. I was dressed at six as usual, as my father regularly takes me to school. Breakfast was served and I opted to take a bite. After breakfast, I handed over the cheap birthday present that I bought for him. I bought that primarily to prevent tongues wagging and just to get a better birthday gift when I had mine in October. After the meal I cleared the dining table and picked up by school bag. My mother jetted out of the kitchen and asked my father, ‘So soon?’ I didn’t understand the question as it was no news that we leave the house early on regular bases. I was still standing when my father said I should wait in the car. I asked him if he wouldn’t be long as I had test that morning and my mother replied with a yell, ‘Are you deaf? Wait in the car, he will join you soon!’ I wanted to be sure because I could trek to school and get there in good time. Trekking to my school was just twenty minutes and it was 6:20am at that time. I got into the Hyunda Elantra as a patient child. I remembered the ‘So soon?’ of my mother and something told me that probably they wanted to work hard on getting another baby. I knew that the Toyota Corola 1.9GLI had flat tyres, and that the four other cars were at the mechanic’s workshop for the quarterly servicing. The only vehicle in out compound was the one that I was in. I closed up side glass, started off the engine and switch on the AC. Something told me that the fuel was way passed half gauge but I didn’t mind. I was in the cool vehicle doing my final revision. I dosed off only to open my eyes around 7:45am. My dad was yet to get into the vehicle. The fuel indicator was blinking but I didn’t mind. Something reminded me that my old man had board meeting at 10am, and as the Chairman, who just queried his directors for lateness in a public establishment, the meeting was crucial for him to justify the rationale for his action. 8:45am and there was no dad, my AC was now off because the fuel dried up, as planned. It was obvious that I would miss my test and I felt that he needed to be taught never to play on anyone’s intelligence. I deflated the front tyre by the right and the back tyre by the left. That will ensure no balance at all even when a generous neighbour would give us a litre of fuel to get to the petrol station. My wise father showed up hurrying at 9:30am. ‘Sorry about the slight delay, you know women,’ he spoke casually. I told him that the gas was exhausted and he started sweating. I told him that I switched-on the AC considering his ‘I will join you soon,’ and the gas went out after about two hours. My father was shivering with anger and his eyes were almost in tears. ‘You know that I have a crucial meeting for 10am, didn’t I tell you?’ He queried tearfully but I wasn’t moved. He was wrong and he needed to be told, or better if he was brought to the understanding of that fact. It was wrong to feel pity, it was better to be rational. He picked up his phone to call Mr Jude, a neighbour, who took 15mins to get us a gallon from his car. It was after Mr Jude fuelled my father’s vehicle and drove off to his office that my father observed that his newly fixed tyres were flat. He looked at me as though I had a hand in it, and I in return had the face of a criminal. At 9:50am, my father resolved that I wasn’t going to school, and we would both go to his office. We trekked for 20minutes before we saw a bike that zoomed off to my father’s office. 10:20am, we got to his office and the board meeting had commence with one of the director moderating the meeting instead of my dad. My father tried to enter but he wasn’t allowed. My dad came to sit beside me and my unrepentant face at the lobby. He looked at me and asked me never to talk to him all my life. I should never call or text him. He told me that I was still a boy and was too irresponsible. I was quiet, but within me, I vowed to obey him. That I was a boy was mere compliment and I had nothing against him. I only acted based on his words. He felt that he could play on me, not knowing that he was playing on himself. Someone said that I should forgive him after years, but I said I hold nothing against him, but would not call, text or talk to him based on his instruction. How wonderful is it to be straight forward. Just a fiction ONI AFOLABI AJIBOLA 08036126690 21:21pm 15/11/2013

BIRTHDAY EDITION

SERIOUS BUSINESS There are times you examine yourself and you are in doubt if you are good or bad, nice or terrible, a demon or an angel. One minute you are on your knees crying to be purged. The next minute you are stirring hard but not expecting result. Last Friday, I hurried away from work leaving my lesson notes on my principal’s table. As a teacher, I had to prepare my lesson notes for the following week. I wasn’t sure if I will be in school on Monday because I had SERIOUS business to attend to. On Saturday I got confirmation that the SERIOUS business will be on Monday and Thursday the following week. There are times when a man needs to enjoy stress. That stress you gladly engage in with a damsel mourning under you and turning into different exhilarating positions. And something deep inside you will be saying ‘…just keep going’. That same Saturday, I sent a text message to my principal to inform her that I was having serious headache as a result of insomnia. She asked me to check my blood pressure, but of course there was no need. On Sunday, I sent a message to my principal that I must visit the hospital on Monday, that the situation had got worst. She approved it. The SERIOUS business that gave ENJOYABLE STRESS started around 6pm on Sunday. Although with several breaks in transmission, it ended at about 6:30am on Monday, with a total duration of 9hours of energetic thrusting. I have to spare you the details. I got my tired body out of my drenched bed at about 11:30am on Monday morning. I signed-in at the school gate at 1:20pm and headed for my principal’s office. I was hale and hearty but needed to put up my best act to ensure that I got Thursday off. The vibrant young man transformed to a terribly sickly man that held his head at intervals and will stop in between conversation to groan. I told her the truth that I got out of bed at about 11am, but lied that I was induce to sleep by the doctor because of insomnia, whereas it as a result of SERIOUS business. Every teacher sent their condolences, and one gave me food, of course I needed it desperately to gain back lost strength. The following day, I maintained the act, following the script dogmatically. I had obviously entered into character and moved a step into reality, because I was beginning to feel the pains I claimed to have. My principal struggled to tell me that out WAEC letter was ready at Ikorodu and asked if I could make it down the following day which was Wednesday. I told her that Thursday would be better. Although, I had three periods on Wednesday and four on Thursday, I told her Thursday was preferred. I acted all the way till Wednesday and I was given transportation to the venue for my SERIOUS business and school duties. I concluded the SERIOUS business at about 12:05pm on Thursday, despite the heat; I had to endure the heat to enjoy the BUSINESS. I put in my very best and the rest was history. I headed down to Ikorodu and then to Obalende for official duty. I got to school on Friday, my colleagues weren’t informed that I went out on official duty, and one after another asked about my health and apologized that they didn’t call. I smiled and told them that it was official duty and of course SERIOUS business. They didn’t understand. Minutes later, I heard a colleague saying, ‘If sex is not the most exciting physical activity to you as a man or woman, you have a problem!’ I grinned with smile and continued marking my students’ notes. JUST FICTION Written by ONI AFOLABI AJIBOLA Aka A4 08036126690, oniafoabiajibola@tyahoo.com 27/10/2013 12:15pm For more contact www.afolabioni.blogspot.com

Being Exact

There are times when being exact gets you in big trouble, I mean, unforgettable trouble. Let me explain this way; you are going from Costain to Oyingbo and the bus fare to and fro is N60. In order to ensure that you are financially discipline, you take exactly N60, or let’s say N100. Sure, you can get into big trouble. That was my lot in the month of July 2013. I saved seventy percent of my salary with friends that invested it in their businesses, ten percent to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and the remaining twenty percent for my upkeep. Hummmmm? You say. Yes. My second year as a master’s student of the University of Lagos was fast approaching and I needed to assemble 0.16million Naria, having paid 0.2 million Naira the first year. I also had to assemble money for accommodation since the Nigerian Army seemed to be ‘waiting for godot’. For me, God’s will be done. I got a call from my brother who spoke about a woman with BIS and the fact that they needed Literature in English teacher who had or was on his master’s degree. My elder brother sent me her number and indeed, I was disinterested. I checked my pocket, had about 1,200N left. I took a deep breath. It is worth the stress. I recharge 300N since the woman was using Etisalat. It will be bad to apologise to a business acquaintance that your credit got exhausted. It isn’t professional. I dialled her number to book an appointment- 12noon on Saturday (the following day) was agreed. Humm. I called my Aduni to reassure her of my undying love for her, despite neither sending credit to her phone nor bank account. What sort of fiance am I? Anyway, I did all the sweet talking from my heart because indeed she is the most beautiful woman in the world. I left my school at about 4pm with a colleague. Well, let me say a brother, ‘cause he is more than a colleague and I’m proud of him any day. I spent another 200N on transportation, having a whooping 700Naira left. I was to get to Badore to see a friend for something quite urgent- no, not romance, but finance. Please don’t think that. Romance is not the only urgent thing. But lord have mercy when I’m on fire. My Aduni can tell. Badoreing cost me another 250Naira and I was left 450N. Got back to the room filled with hunger and a dangerous joy- the joy that kills. I ate the left-over in the pot and was in bed. I woke up the following day with doubt but glory to God. I concluded that the appointment with the BIS woman will be for my friend who was teaching in faraway Taraba. I called him to convince him to come for the interview on Tuesday, but like Thomas, he wasn’t ready to leave certainty for uncertainty. He said, he would think about it. I checked the internet for the school, their structure and curricula. It is affiliated to several UK and Canadian Universities. Let me write the interview for my friend. I can’t jump out of my school for now. My curriculum vitae will be too terrible to look at. Working for 8months with the first school; another for four months; having taught in twelve different schools in just nine years of my teaching profession. Terrible you say, yeah, pretty terrible. No sack letter, just one query in nine years. Whaoo! It was 12:37pm already and I apologised to the woman and fixed another for 7pm. I studied a little and was dressed by 4pm. I got to Lekki phrase one at exactly 6:02pm. I strolled around the Estate and was determined to bet that it was incomparably better than VGC, not until I saw the other side. I gave the woman a call and she affirmed that she would be around at 7:00pm only to be present at 7:05pm. It was a long and unending discussion but the most important aspect was the remuneration. She said I should expect about 170, 000N to 200, 000N. That was after I lied that I collect 120, 000N from where I currently serve. She promised that the school will send me abroad for further training. I equally lied that my longest duration with a school during my years of teaching was a year and half, when it is actually just one year, that is, if up to that. I imagined what had made me lie conveniently and convincingly. I was very sure something was wrong. Yes, I hadn’t ejaculated for over four months except for wet dream and had being faithfully avoiding more serious and better interestingly rewarding iniquities. After the discourse, I moved away from her second new Jeep and walked towards Mainstreet bank and then to the gate. So fortunate was I, there was no on-coming vehicle and I crossed the express road in a hurry. All of a sudden, I heard, ‘you are under arrest, don’t move, and don’t talk.’ What? That was when I realized that a pedestrian bridge was just right ahead of me. I got confused. I didn’t ask for my crime, of course I knew. I was placed in the vehicle like a criminal. ‘Please! E! I! Humm! Sorry! I’m a graduate, this is my first time here. Please, Jesus, I’m from Osun State. I didn’t know. I swear to God. Anything. Ha! Ye! I have just 210N on me. I live at Langbasa. Ha! Please don’t drive the vehicle, mo gbe,’ I kept talking. I remembered my day at Jalingo prison, not as an inmate, but a motivational speaker. I remembered how the people cried loud when I asked them if they knew the word vengeance. I begged them to let go, that was then, because vengeance is of God. I remembered how a prison warden, hit a sick old man with robust baton. How the inmates fought with the last drop of their blood over who gets water first. The water wasn’t sufficient and if you don’t fight dirty, you don’t get water to drink. Everyone must fight dirty, including the prison pastor and Imam. The punches, the hammering of metal bucket on someone’s face, the dragging of the defeated on the graved round the prison premises, breaking of bone that calls for no better medical attention but Paracetamol, among other. I resumed my necessary but senseless speech. I won’t survive prison. ‘Broz please, I’m from Osun State, from Ori-Ade Local Government Area. I’m from Ijebu-jesa town. Please! Ha! Ok take my phone, but I will remove my sim and memory cards. E jo! Ha! This is my degree certificate that I snapped on my phone. I’m an English teacher.’ The man was like 007, unmovable. I imagined myself, a good Nigerian giving bribe. Will I rather be imprisoned for being greedy-‘not wanting to shake body’ than give my phone. The crime any security man arrests you for is not the basic, the cell is jam-packed already. I will only be a burden, but if I don’t give something, they will put me there and I will be on awaiting trial for years if not decades. And if anyone is ready to agree to bail me, bail is free but they have to pay for utilities- and that is about 20, 000N per month. The DPO must get his share. He asked me if I had any cash on me, even 500N. I answered the negative. Then I knew that money was more important to these myopic set of uncivilized fools in uniform. Of course I didn’t say that out. Immediate, my phone became his with no receipt, nor document. Officer! Hummm. If only I had just N500 or N200 on me, those cheap demons dressed in black wouldn’t have taken my phone. Being exact can be a minus ooo. Please take more cash. Just a story ONI AFOLABI AJIBOLA www.afolabioni.blogspot.com 08036126690, oniafolabiajibola@yahoo.com 28/July/2013, 7:25pm

TIME TO COMPROMISE IS NEAR

TIME TO COMPROMISE IS CLOSE In life, what we often plan, does not often see the light of day. You plan to be a doctor, but end up a conductor, or better an instructor. Why is life heartless? Probably because it is not just about me and my ability to keep my words? Maybe it also about others being faithful to the creed that binds every two? At the Federal Medical Centre, Ebute-meta, I was mad at the way people jumped queue and people who just came will go to their partners in crime who is a staff to grant them a favour of forwarding their files at the expense of the anxious masses diligently waiting to see the doctor. What if I was employed here, would I join others in this favouritism? Can I be a crusader for justice and fairness? Even if I want to be, once I see my people (parents, wife etc) being cheated and waiting endlessly on the queue, I will compromise. Later that evening, I was in the sitting room bored with the power outage and looking the picture of my beauty queen. I had just changed her name from sweet aduni to Aduni on my contact. I searched my phone to check for another image in order to change the image I will be seeing when she calls. I was okay with the captivating sight of hers in her sky-blue lace and blue gele. Satisfied with the selection, I decided to go through the images again. I had to do that to ensure that she was all I had in my memory. I deleted every contact of any lady that could tempt me except Dolapo-that is in my head and will be hypocritical to delete. I went through the pictures again; I saw the sky-blue shirt on tight skirt. Hummmm, I could feel the sexuality in the picture. ‘All these for me?’ I thought of asking her to delete it, so that I will be for my eyes only. The pictures were basically to show me that her butt had become bigger and her breast was still intact. ‘The female teacher that snapped these must be bad. A photo section of clear pornography in clothes, strictly for me, she must delete it. I will be the one that will have it alone.’ Calling her was impossible, my battery was flat. PHCN was grateful to restore the light. I charged my phone and with the thought in my head. ‘For my eyes only’. Switching on my phone Aduni called, I was mad with joy. After the greetings, few information and all the paparazzi. I asked her who snapped the sexy pictures. It was as if a curb harmer hit my head when she said it was a man. A teacher, and she posed flaunting joyfully. She never told me before now. A guy snapped her full back view, saved it on his phone and sent her a copy. What is she? Who is she? Can I ….? Isn’t my life a waste? Anyway, she said sorry. She didn’t mean it. How ridiculous. When on earth have I ever allowed a woman to snap me reflecting my shape or in singlet? Well, I can’t doubt her. But this is the 9th time I’m getting to know something about her not directly from her. I must be a fool to think a man can leave his entire life with one woman and vice versa. My parents started with joint account. Mummy felt, dad was cheating and spending money on girls outside and decided to quit the joint account. How foolishly stupid! Every man will not pay evil for evil, but evil for greater evil. Now my Aduni is following suite. Men pour over her, I absolutely isolated. Maybe that was the reason I can’t touch her, she has back up? Of course not. Sure, you don’t trust a woman that betrays your trust. I wouldn’t have believed if I was told. I hate revealing dresses, she wore one that the life of her breast was revealing on Saturday. This babe no send me. Anyway, I am human, I can presuppose that a woman with revealing dresses wants sex. And a woman that will allow a man to snap her breast and butt, save it to his phone, collect to her phone and send to her mugu’s phone must be …. My sincerity within the marriage wed-lock is anchored on my partner’s sincerity. In the court of law, ignorance is not an excuse. If she wears revealing clothes, I will start wearing ring, drinking, smoking and having stylish hair cut. If she says it is time to play games, who am I not to? I might have planned my life one way. But what if, my partner is ‘smart’ what the hack will I do? You plan, you wish, you pray. Others determine if you will compromise or not. The time to compromise is close. Just a story. 08036126690 Afolabi Ajibola ONI 15 June 2013, 10:08pm

MY BOSS

My Boss Tade, a very good friend of mine walked into me, uneasy. He was sweating harder than expected and I was a bit worry. I doubted if Tade had impregnated a colleague of his, like most of my peers- working class people with blood boiling quite hot. I inquired about what the matter was but he wasn’t in a hurry to tell anyone. I looked deep into his eye with the well drafted silent query, ‘-not even me?’ He looked into my eyes and sigh. I knew the problem could be a little mind blowing and I pestered with an expectant silence. ‘It is all these management people- my boss, the director, all of them. I told them that I had started my Masters degree at the University, but it is on weekends. They asked for my admission letter, I gave them. Asked for every other detail and I volunteered it sincerely to the best of my knowledge. I was interested in full time before that cost 150, 000n and lasts for a year, but because of work, I change to part time that is for a period of two years and costs over 320, 000n. Now my school needs my weekends again as they organised a seminar recently for teachers. I wrote a letter reminding them of my engagement on Saturdays. Only to come back and my principal started ranting that I won’t go scot-free.’ He concluded with yet another deep breath. I was silent for a while. I knew that he wanted my take on the matter as I pondered real hard on the matter. I looked at the entire situation from both ends. First, the school management, who have spent a lot to get the seminar ready, they even provided two complete meals and did their best to make the ambience cosy. Only for the indigent son of a bitch to waste their hard earn resources. He should be asked to tender his withdrawer. From the other end, I see this young man who doesn’t want to be stagnant and wants uncompromising adjustment for the better. I told him at last; if you think your education comes first, go for it. It is always difficult. It is like sleeping ravenous today for a better tomorrow. Don’t procrastinate, don’t let go of your master’s degree, do that which people rarely do. Anyway, when one door doesn’t close, another wouldn’t open, because when two doors open, there lies perplexity or the need to seek the face of God. That was my advice for Tade. What is yours? Add your comment please.