I’m just traveling through my mind at this moment with the goddess by side, greeting and avoiding the old and recent ghosts whose land I lord, lol.
I’ve got to get rid of some of these ugly haunt-tenants, can’t wait for old age amnesia.
AfroMuse, she’s found this cute one and she’s bullying him to share his story. Of course, he shall.
I beat the gong as AfroSays:
NO DEY LOOK UCHE FACE
The stupid Okada guy was driving me toward the ensuing ruckus; three fully grown, well dressed, able-bodied men were fighting bitterly, and I wasn’t sure it was over the typical incomplete transport fare/ fare balance situation because there was no yellow cum black striped bus nearby. The motorcyclist moved me closer, yard by yard. He wanted to catch a glimpse of Uche’s face.
My mind quickly flashed back to the testimony a friend of mine had shared at church the previous Sunday. He talked so happily because he felt quite lucky to be alive. His story was a word of caution to every Nigerian intellectual who felt an egotistical need to stand out from the crowd whenever societal disturbance reared its ugly head. Most of us had given up on trusting instinct when lives of hundreds of Lagosians had been betrayed by a canal they had willingly jumped into because they had instinctively followed crowd movement in a bid to escape the terrifying echoes of a bomb blast several kilometres away. My friend’s testimony gave us permission to trust our sixth sense once more.
He had been walking along the road, enjoying just another normal day of his life when he happened upon a police checkpoint. He had almost walked past when a suspicious car happened upon the checkpoint as well. The police had tried to stop the moving vehicle when the dubious party suddenly opened fire. Our trigger-happy law enforcement officers didn’t waste time in returning the favour – they were reportedly aiming for the tires and the sky at the same time.
My friend immediately stopped and started staring at potential gist. He ignored all instinctive demands to run. He refused to follow in the crowd’s rush for cover and he wasn’t alone, there was some mallam guy beside him as well and they were both trying to find out if Uche had pimples.
The action movie ended as soon as it started with the mysterious car escaping, his viewing partner on the floor, hit by shrapnel and a stern lesson that Uche’s hypnotic face wasn’t worth the attention.
That flashback only lasted a second, we were already getting dangerously close to the royal rumble. My mind was rapidly producing several creative scenarios in which our foray into the wrestling ring would go wrong. The motorcyclist wasn’t even looking at the road anymore, his neck was turned at an obtuse angle in a serious attempt to study Uche’s then blurred features.
I quickly reprimanded him and brought him back to consciousness, my intuition was urgently urging me forward because even on that busy road, nobody seemed interested in such a great display of Tibetan Kung Fu. I somehow managed to convince the motorcyclist back on course.
I honestly tried my best to act disinterested but the Nigerian goddess of hypnosis was too fascinating to refuse.
We stopped a few yards away and fully indulged our curiosity, enjoying Uche’s mesmerizing beautiful face.
It was so beautiful, I couldn’t wait till I saw it again.