Afrosays to me

…random excerpts from my communions with the AfroMuse

Caution June 13, 2012

Filed under: Laconic — afrosays @ 10:42 pm
Tags: , , ,

Be wary of Monty.
 
If trees could not carry flowers and birds could not sing, Monty would do both on their behalf for she wants to help everyone. We do not all want her assistance. When the river grew tired of running, Monty asked to run in her place. Now even though the river is rested, Monty wouldn’t let the river run again.
 
Monty has no place in this world.
 
Monty has no place but to take the place of others.

 

The Passenger May 27, 2011

Filed under: Scenic — Betty @ 10:03 pm
Tags: ,

The gong I beat, you might not know.. I borrowed it from your village. It is old and rusty but familiar.. Listen, for it might explain why they act the way they do…
WaryBetty

It?

He looked over his shoulder again. It was still there. What it was, he knew not. His wife looked at him sharply.
“Femi, face front! Ki lo n se yin gan? You want to kill us? What are you looking for?” Her high-pitched voice did nothing to ease his fear.
There was a presence in the car, asides him and his wife of two years. And it was an oppressing presence. How could he explain this to his wife without sounding like Looney Tunes? He decided to keep his mouth shut.
He stepped on the accelerator and zig-zagged on the road, knowing it was a stupid thing to do but somehow hoping the movements would unsettle whatever it was.
“Ye! Femi! O o ni pa wa oh! What is chasing you? Are you mad?” His wife screamed.
It chuckled. It was more like a low cackle. It pleased it to see him riled. After all, why else was it here? It enjoyed seeing the other people on the road rain curses on him. They were doing it’s work for it. It would cause the uneasiness, they would do the cursing. It would save it’s curses for a stronger target. It smiled and grew bigger, opened it’s pores and reduced the air in the car.
Femi took a deep breath, then struggled to take another. What was happening?
He shouldn’t have been sleeping in church. He loosened his tie. He lowered the windows, where the hell was all the air?
His wife was panicking now; her hands fluttering all over and shrieking in Yoruba. He felt dizzy. He couldn’t hear her. Get out! Yes, he had to get out of the car!
He swerved the car to the shoulder and jumped out, startling a trader who was setting out her wares. Cars horned. People screamed in protest.
His wife ran out to him. “Femi! Femi talk to me! What is it? Blood of Jesus! Femi! Da mi loun!”
Femi bent over, hands on knees and dragged in the air. “Sade, there’s.. there’s something.. something in.. in the car.”
Sade looked back then looked back to her husband. He must be going mad! “Femi, there’s nothing in the car..” Her grandmother had warned her against this marriage. She should have listened. Now, her husband was going mad. “Femi?”
She reached to touch him but he jerked and started to run like the devil was biting his very heels. Sade took off after him. “Femi! Femi!”
The trader shook her head. These crazy rich people, they had left their car open. Her daughter tugged at her wrapper. “Yes? Omo mi?”
“Mummy, why did they leave the old woman in the car?”
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