ON BOXING DAY. (Late Post) TrendyVoice

30 December 2015

ON BOXING DAY. (Late Post)




I walked the street with pictures of money in
my pocket.
__ Martins Ekong
We were big eyed boys without soap on our
skins, but we dreamth on and on..
___ Passenger.
I woke up in the bed chambers. I do not
remember sleeping here, but there should be
an explanation of how I came to be here.
Maybe mother or our house help brought me
here.
As I stumbled off the bed, I was greeted by the
strong stench of puke, the type which is caused
by excessive alcohol.
As I scurried out the room, I met my father
halfway through the lobby. Young man, where
did you sleep last night, he asked. In my room I
stammered, looking back to the room where I
had emerged from. It was then it dawned on
me, I woke up in Maureen's room. Now
Maureen was my mother's house help, who has
stayed with us since she was a little girl. Am
sorry, I said, I was drunk. Sorry for yourself, he
shot back.
I hate my father, he never acts like he was
once a teenager. He stood there looking at me
like he does not put one leg first into his pants
like every other normal human being. What
annoys me most about him, is that I cannot
walk out on him. Fucking tradition! I cursed
unintelligibly under my breath.
Now look here, he shouted, take the car you
went out with to my mechanic. And when next
you are going out for a drink, use one of your
mother's car, he added walking out on me.
Mother was arranging something in the
parlour. She wrapped her gracious arms around
me immediately she saw me. See how you
look, she said, go take your bath and come eat
something. There has never been a better
mother than this, I thought.
I left my mom with a smile, walked straight to
my room upstairs, and shuffled myself into the
bed. I laid there for a while thinking of last
night. My friends and I were high, the girls too,
I remember getting a kiss from Esther, very
beautiful girl, I thought.
I stood up from the bed, undressed myself,
and stepped into the shower. As the tiny
strands of water sprinkled on my face, I woke
up. My younger sister was sprinkling water on
my face. Daddy dey call you, she said. Fool, you
nor fit tap me, na water you take they wake
me, I spat at her.
I rose up from the mat on the ground, folded it
into a tiny chunk, and swept it under the only
bed in our one room apartment.
As I walked out of the room into the yard, I was
greeted by the scent of my mother's Christmas
stew. I savoured the scent for a while and
walked over to my father who was sitting in a
bench outside the yard.
Good morning papa, I greeted. Ehen, he
answered, take the bush meat my trap caught
yesterday to Mazi Enumah's house, he would
give you 1200 Naira, bring it and let us buy rice
to eat the remaining stew,he added.
As I scurried off with the bush meat, I thought
of the dream I had last night. It pained me that
I could only hope, dream, and wish for such
things.
Its boxing day, and as I walk the street this
morning, I let myself wish for the most
hallowed things in life, one of which was that I
had some money in my pocket..
Credit- Jindu















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