
Every single time you stare at the boy’s missing picture, your conscience pricks you. Over and over again. You can’t find peace. Existing has become tiring. But you cannot kill yourself because you have set goals. You go still need touch one or two kain places. There are girls to smash. You haven’t even smoked loud yet. Kenneth tells you loud triggers the most silent moves. Deadly, macho man moves. Nobody can even fuck with you if you’re that high. Gaddemnit.
But you’re stuck with fighting your conscience. You’ll forever be stuck with it because when your daddy said you shouldn’t apply for Electrical Engineering, you were bugga-ing. You want to connect and fix all the fixables. Stabilizer go trip off. Small something that requires patience for it to come back on, you have off paynt, off singlet, you have go and borrow screw driver. See you, see spanner, see tester, plier. You have loosened new Stabilizer, and you’re fixing imaginary damages because na only God know wetin dey do you.
University days. To crown it all, you did not even school in a sane country, na naija you dey read Electric Engineering. Big joke. You’re done with school. Graduate. Big man. Life is going well. Dad just built a new house. Your family relocates. House needs wiring. There’s a need to prove your worth. You go to the market. You get new equipments and wires for work. You’re all set.
Engineer de engineer.
You’re done wiring. Connection on point. The bell outside your house rings, toilet flushes. You switch the fan on, the cooking gas in the kitchen goes off. You off television, water go start to dey pump.
Your uncle calls your father. Says he wants his child to comman spend the weekend at his place. Daz how he came with his 2 year-old bobo, ate, and left him over for the weekend. TV dey show. Bubu is addressing us and telling us Merry Christmas. Your father is pissed.
“Go and off that rubbish, my friend!” he orders.
You go to off the TV. Your hear the toilet flush. You run to the toilet, you don flush bobo. Na only you hear am. Bobo dey suck-away. Bobo will spend his Christmas there. Weekend comes. He’s still nowhere to be found. They declare him missing. They make posters. They make posts. Shares. Comments. You share it, too.
But inside inside you, you know wassup.
This is so hilarious. Na real e be things be this
😂💀
This is hilarious, man.
I like how it takes off from an unpredictable tarmac and swerves us into a happy cloud, I mean it’s funny. I like this wittiness.
Attaboy.
Murder! Murder in the house! 😂😂😂💔
E be things true true
Beautiful piece
Hilarious. I love everything about this story. I went from giggling to chuckling to laughing too loud. Well-done.
How you wire humour in to a dire situation with little effort leaves me in awe. I’m still laughing hard by the way.