Man Wey Dey Reason Episode 52 – Flow1759
As we drank, i saw two creatures stood in front of me. They looked like Demons when i looked with my left eye, they looked like Horses when i looked with my right eye. But when i looked with both eyes, i saw two mighty Pigs.
“Opopo you don try, i don dey ok, my eye don dey see double” I said, as i saw the two Demons waving at me. I waved back.
“na who you dey do bye bye” Brianbox asked why i was waving.
“nobody oh, i just dey straight my hand, e dey pain me” I lied.
“Opopo you don try, we don high wella” Man said.
“una don tayah? i want make dem bring more for una sef” Opopo said.
“Bar man!! Bring more bottles” Tega ordered.
“Tega why you wicked like this, you want make i piss for my body?” Brainbox cried.
Brainbox had urinated in the nearby bush like Fourteen times since we started drinking. Or was his Urinary tracks becoming faulty? I asked myself.
1759 was as sweet as honey that day.
1759 wasn’t the year i was born, but my brand of beer. I so much loved the number 1759 that i crested it as my Jersey number when i was selected to play for my department in the Faculty cup when i was in school. Unfortunately, we couldn’t scale through the group stage of the tournament. One guy wey dem dey call Makalele show me pepper no be small.
I scored two goals. Own goals.
Makalele was good at dribbling than scoring. And he was talented at making defenders mistakenly scored own goals. I wasn’t the only own goal scorer in that match, Kc scored also, but he scored just one. The match ended 3-0, with goals from Flow with Jersey number 1759 and Kaysey with Jersey number 411. What funny Jersey numbers. Maybe the Jersey numbers brought I and Kc the ill luck, or maybe not.
If the first person in the world to score an Own goal was shot dead, then i deserved to be beheaded.
That was the ill luck the number 1759 brought my way.
1759 brought ill luck to me again when i used it as my ATM PIN. That morning i was to travel to Lagos after exams. The ATM did not only swallow my card, it refused paying me.
That wasn’t the main “Koko”. The main Koko was that i wanted to leave O’town because of hunger. That made me stayed in O’town eating Beans and Garri for two weeks until the bank rectified the problem.
Owerri town is known as O’town, just the same way Port Harcout town is known as Petakwa, Lagos town is known as Lasgidi, Sokoto town is known as Sok town, and Kaduna town is known as Kd. I say make i ask oh, wetin una think say dem go dey call Maiduguri town sef? Maid town or Maidu town, or better still Boko Haram town.
Afternoon grew to evening and we were still drinking.
“Opopo make we dey go house, this guys don high wella” Tega said to Opopo.
“you you never high? You wey call girl dey speak french with her” I said in my mind. He actually called a Lady on phone and was speaking Urhobo language with her. Urhobo sounded like French to me.
We staggered like the I’diots we were to where the Jeep was parked.
Brainbox was the last person to reach where the car was parked, and there was no space for him to seat.
“shebi na all of us sidon come na? Why space no com dey for Brainbox to sidon na” Man said.
Or was it that we all had became chubbier courtesy of the beer we drank? I asked myself.
“lap me jor” Brainbox sat on my lap.
As the Jeep moved, Brainbox a..ss bone was really hurting me, not only that, his body was as heavy as a corpse, almost crippling me.
Opopo drove so rough that i almost ate my heart.
“guy slow down na” Bigie warned.
“omoh mehn Baba jay and Snoop don miss oh” I said.
“them dey barb hair na, no how wey them go leave barbing salon com follow us go drink” Man said.
“i wan piss oh” Brainbox suddenly said.
“guy i no go fit stop this car for you make you go piss oh” Opopo said, and Brainbox said no further.
Opopo put on the car stereo and the music blasting was Tupac Shakur’s Califonia love. Man begane to sing along. It seemed he was singing the Hausa version of the song.
“guy you no sabi sing the song, you dey spoil am” Tupac cautioned. As if Tupac Amaru Shakur was his Elder brother.
Suddenly i felt something wet my trouser reaching my d’ick. I initially thought i had premature e’.jaculation.
I realized it was water when suddenly it started to pour in torrents, i looked up to see if it was raining. It wasn’t. Even if it was, i was in a car for God’s sake.
At that moment it dawned on me that Brainbox had urinated on me.
“Brainbox!! You don piss for my body” I yelled.
The next Afternoon, we were off to work. Guess what our work was? Drinking.
Drinking became our proffesion since Opopo found riches.
Behind the Lady that came to serve us more drinks dangled two a’.sses, one at the Top and one Below. I was shocked. Or was i seeing double?
Seeing she resembled the Yoruba woman that owned the drinking bar, i concluded she was her daughter.
Yorubas are known for their arsenal of a’.sses. Their a’.sses could cause traffic congestion. Sorry to say, searching for an a’.ssless Yoruba Lady is like searching for Kuli Kuli in England.
I will never forget our neighbour back then in the barracks, albeit not our next door neighbour. The Family was a family of a’.sses. The Mother had an a’.ss that i would best describe as a Satellite dish. The first daughter had an a’.ss that i would best describe as a Travelling bag, the round type. The last daughter was so a’.ssful that one could barely see any other part of her body but a’.ss! a’.ss!! a’.ss. Her name was Sade.
Whenever Sade walked, she always dragged her feet on the floor because her a’.ss was too heavy for her to carry, and kids in Barracks always made jest of her singing the popular Barracks song with the first line as: “Ikebe no dey heavy the owner, eeeh! eeeh!! Ikebe no dey heavy the owner, eeeeh! eeeh!!…………………”
If there is a place in the world that is the worst place to raise a child, that place is the Barracks. Saying Barracks children were rascals was an understatement, they were wannabe thugs.
Talking of rascalism as a proffesion, i was the CEO of Rascals Nigeria limited when i was a kid. I will never forget what I and my friend Cosmos did to his elder brother. We poured watery Poo into his elder brother’s plate of Beans, and we steered vigorously with a spoon.
Since Beans and Poo are twin brothers, he did not only eat the mixture, he sent it home with chilled water. Our reason for such wicked act was because he refused Cosmos from playing with his mates.
Back to Sade. Oh Folasade!! I had a crush on her because she was beautiful both facially and Ikebely. But she had a problem.
She had Yoruba intonation wasn’t the main problem, the main problem was that her grammar was nothing to write home about.
I will never forget what she said when i was conversing with her one hot afternoon. The following conversation ensued:
Codo(that was my nickname then): I came to your house and you didn’t greet me, why?
Sade: I greeting you na. Didn’t you seeing me greeting you?
To her, the past tense of every English word was gotten by simply adding “ing” to the word. Little wonder i preferred conversing with her in Pidgin English.
I was 17 then, and Sade was a year older. It was I who d.isvirgined her. She also d.isvirgined me.
The F’.ucking happened one evening that i was watering our farm. She too was watering their farm which was just next to ours. They had no Well, so she came to our Well to fetch water.
The urge for s’ex got to boiling point when i stared at her a’.ss as she bent down to fetch.
I grabbed her from behind with my d’ick almost tearing my trouser and her wrapper to penetrate.
We fell not on Vitafoam bed but on Ugu bed.
I was ramming hard when suddenly she started shouting: “Mogbe oh! Tambolo oh! Mogbe oh! Tambolo oh!”, i thought she was shouting because she was enjoying it, or maybe she needed it harder.
What i never knew was that Soldier Ants had started doing their Job on our bodies.
At the second sting, i jumped up and started dancing Makossa. I saw some of the Ants holding Church meeting in my P’ubic hair.
Had anybody farming around had us shouting, the person would had thought Elephants were stampeding.
The roll in the hay or rather the roll in the Ant bed lasted 3minutes because it was our first time.
“My name is Flowey, I am a Medical Doctor, i am half Italian, half Nigerian, i own that Jeep parked outside, i just came to buy my friends drinks” I said to the Lady that came to serve us drinks as i stood with her a bit far from our drinking table. I knew i said that under the influence of alcohol, under the influence of a combination of Red wine and Beer. Had it been Opopo heard me said i owned his Jeep, i would had been a dead meat.
“what is your name?” I asked her.
“my name is Folakemi, i am a student of Futo” She said.
“who ask you the name of your school?” I nearly said.
“so i should call you Fola, or Lake, or Kemi, which one?” I teased.
Yorubas are known for names that are combination of several other names. True or False? For instance the name Akindayomi is Four names in one.
“just call me Kemi” She said.
Hey! I know the question running in your minds right now is; “Flow shey you collect her number? Well, when we reach there you go know.
We got home that evening to meet a visitor in our room. The visitor was Pastor Kel. The main pastor of our church.
Baba jay had informed us in the barber’s shop that Pastor Kel was in the room, but we never believed him, even after we saw his car parked outside.
The adage; “seen is believing” could be best applied when drunk. Maybe that was why we needed to see before we believed.
Lo and behold we saw the ever Elegant Pastor Kel in the room.
“Good morning sir” Man said. “na morning be this?” Brainbox corrected him.
“Sorry Good bye sir, Sorry, Good Afternoon sir” Man stammered. He still couldn’t get the correct greeting. One of the things alcohol could do to a man.
The Pastor laughed uncontrollably. So did Pkc and MOG.
We did our best for the Pastor not to smell that we were drunk by speaking less.
Within a twinkle of an eye, i heard Man and Brainbox brushing their teeth in the bathroom.
“una get sense abi? Una don go brush una teeth so Pastor no go smell say una don go drink abi?” I said in my mind.
If they so wish, they could wash their mouths with soap and sponge, the Pastor would still percieve the Alcohol.
I say so because i know as i know my name that Pastors all over the world has spiritual Nose. Or so i tot.
When Brainbox and Man came out of the bathroom, the Pastor suddenly said; “which of you drank alcohol?” pointing his finger at Brainbox and Man.
“Pastor no be me drink oh, come smell my mouth na” Man said.
“speak English” Pkc said to Man.
“Okay, Pastor it is not I that drunk alcohol, come and smelling my mouth” he said the English version of what he earlier said.
“Man you dey Mad oh, na Pastor you dey tell make him come smell your mouth, you no dey fear God?” I nearly said.
“Pastor don’t mind him, he likes being funny” Pkc said.
“he is really funny, i must say” said Pastor Kel. “this place is still smelling alcohol oh, or is it Urine?” He added.
“Pastor you well so? How you go say big boys like us go dey piss for bed?” I nearly said.
“Pastor what you are smelling is not Alcohol, it is the smell of my perfume, it smells like Alcohol” I saved the day with a Big fat lie.
“are you sure?” Pastol Kel asked. “i am sure Pastor, i am sure” I answered.
I hurried to the bathroom to brush my teeth also, so i wouldn’t end up being the Scapegoat.
When i came out, Man said; “Pastor i want you to pray for me, i will wrote JAMB next week”
“If you “wrote” JAMB with that kind of Grammatical error, you will definately score 15 out of 400″ I nearly said.
That reminds me of my childhood friend Cosmos. He checked his JAMB result and saw 31 as his score. He was shocked.
After he printed out his result, he neatly added “1” to the 31 with a Black pen to make it 311. He got home and gave his “proffesional” Illiterate parents the result and told them JAMB had increased their cut-off to 350, and they believed.
Just for that singular act of lying to his parents, he never passed JAMB.
He wrote JAMB up to 8 times, and gave up. He gave up because most of his mates had graduated, some like myself were even working.
Why i liked Cosmos so much was because albeit he wasn’t sound academically, he was a smart young man. He couldn’t speak correctly, but he was willing to learn.
As i write, he is in the North rearing cattle i guess.
Mehn! i really miss him. I remember the fun memories ab initio our chilhood with nostalgia. Well, like they say; “Twenty children can not play together for twenty years”, and like they say also; “we meet to part and we part to meet”.
Pastor Kel held Man’s both hands to pray for him, Pkc and MOG stood as backup, while I and Brainbox watched like spectators.
At that moment, i wished the prayer would neautralize the Taley in Man’s finger and cast out the spirit of “Taleyism” in him.
Can i hear you say “Amen!!” to that.