.jpg)
The story you are about to read was written by Husband Material, a vast and innovative writer. Check him out on twitter @husband_materia. Enjoy.
Echoes
Of Dust
Poverty
has a way of dealing with someone, it creeps into your mentality, ruins yourself
ego, makes you think your cursed, then you begin to have low self esteem, that’s
when you accept poverty as a lifestyle, the air you breath and every step you
take is streamlined towards poverty and when you want to breakthrough, the
people around you tends to thwart your mentality and tell you that it is okay
to be poor and you finally settle into it.
Born
in one of the most revered ghettos in the world AJEGUNLE, I knew we were poor
from birth, my one year birthday picture looks like a gory site, bread was used
as my birthday cake and bottles of zobo was the exotic drinks that graced my
table, virtually all kids that posed with me were all naked and some wore torn
pants and were pot-bellied from the fangs of hunger and kwashiokor, ahmed my
bestfriend in that picture had catarrh all over his nose and some cascading
down to his mouth.
Madam
Caro my mum popularly known as ‘sisi lagos’ a huge dark woman that looked like
the description of goliath in the bible, with a gait that would cause stir
anywhere she enters, I was told I looked like my dad. a man I never saw, not
even his picture, my curly dark hair and fair skin with straight nose that hung
on my face like it was carved in a special mould and then placed on my face
gave suggestive facts that my dad must be of fulani origin, mama sold local gin
at the motor park and our house was a makeshift structure made of zinc and
plywood, whenever it rains heavily we place buckets at strategic points in the
house to allow rain to drop inside rather that flooding our house.
I
attended Stephen Oniru Memorial school, Ahmed, I and Rahanatu lived in the same
slum and we were neighbours, I was small but the ghetto life had made me a
grown man at age 12, I have seen little girls of my age get pregnant and
friends take to drugs, alot of my friend in this ghetto believed going to
school was a waste of time, Rambo the son to the motor park chairman was the
leader of the area boys in ajegunle and would gather all the young boys during
the monthly sanitation which was mandatory for every boy to attend so far as
you were up to 10yrs and failure to do that would attract a fine of 50naira, I
know you will think 50naira is a small money to pay but let me give a breakdown
of what 50naira can do in the slum, you could use it to buy bean cakes and
break for 30naira and have a very sumptous meal as breakfast or dinner, it
could be used to buy food from the local food vendor popularly called
‘mama-put’ and this meal is inclusive of rice, beans and stew and in the ghetto
such kind of meal is regarded as a ‘big man’ food.
Rambo
would gather all of us at the football field, holding a big bottle of the local
gin{shekpe} in his left hand and smoking a large well wrapped jumbo size of
marijuna in his other hand, he had long dreads and a very scary face with a
prominent scar on his left eyes, rumour has it that he was shot by the police
during one of his celebrated robbery in the highbrow areas of Lagos, he puffed
large smoke into the air and he cleared his throat, looked at his watch before
taking a gulp of the local gin and grinned as he began to speak
RAMBO:
AREA!!!
And
we all chorused HEY!!! and he continued
RAMBO:
My mind sweet me well well say una come out today to come work but before we go
start I get sometin i wan yan una! make I yan? I say make I yan?
Demonstrating
with his hands and jumping from one spot to another like someone possessed by
evil spirit and we all chorus YAN!! and he paused look at us for a while and
continued
RAMBO:
The way I dey vex if i dey see some of una wey still dey chop mama thank you,
the thing dey pain me, how you go dey mumu dey go school why una dey hungry for
house? you better begin dey hustle atleast to dey bring food come house, if you
no fit work for all these small small factory, you come join us for park dey do
agbero work
And
the crowd of able bodied men began to clap for him as he smiled, puffed his
weed and drank some more of his local gin and he raised his hand into the air,
which was a signal for silence as he continued
RAMBO:
I neva talk finish, if you come get morale like king rambo and obata the lion,
na to join us dey knack those people wey dey stay for victoria island, I no
talk say omila good o but since them no wan help us and police no be our
friend, na to collect the one them get
The
crowd went into a general uproar and began to sing various gyration songs as we
splitted into groups and walked towards various drainages that passed through
the ghetto to go clean it so that the stench from it could be bearable, ‘omila’
is a local slangs in the ghetto that meant stealing and being a thief in the
ghetto is seen as the best job one could get in the ghetto, the pickpockets and
the phone snatchers are looked upon like rookies while the bank robbers and the
highway thieves are seen as the professionals.
Ahmed,
Rahanatu and I had made a vow on a sunday when were playing hide and seek games
at the field in the slum when the police drove with their van into the field on
high speed and all the boys playing football, some smoking weed and girls
parading themselves for the boys to pay and go to makeshift benches by the
river side, pay 10naira and have their fun, everybody began to run helter
skelter in different angles as they jumped out of their van, chased two guys
and caught them, brought them to the center of the feild and shot their legs, I
could not believe it as I, Rahanatu and Ahmed watched from afar, all we could
hear the police men say from the distance was
POLICEMAN:
You’re a thief, I say shutup
As
the slapped them mercilessly, shot them dead and drove off, crowd began to
gather, those who were hiding at various places began to come out and in split
minutes a large crowd had gathered round to see whom the culprits were and
though we were small, the trio of us struggled through to the crowd, only to
get there and we realized it was Rahanatu’s elder brother Isa, she fell to the
ground and fainted, instead of people to help us look for help or pour water on
her to revive her, an old man whose teeth has all fallen off began to laugh and
was pointing at her as he said
OLD
MAN: Make una see dis mumu, her brother don die na faint you dey faint, no
worry yourself you go use your hand wakeup.
I
pushed and struggled my way out of the crowd while Ahmed ran to bring water to
pour on her, he ran very fast as his tiny legs could carry him, got water and
we began to pour Rahanatu and she shook her head a little as her eyes open, it
was then I made a vow to rahanatu that I’ll be her brother she has lost and
would do anything possible to get us out of the ghetto.
On
this fateful day I was coming back from school, heading straight to the park to
go meet my mum, I normally meet her after school our so that she would buy
lunch food for me, on getting to the park, I noticed that her shop was
shattered, all her local gin she sold to bus drivers were all broken, I
enquired from a bus driver who was drinking a big bottle of my mum’s ‘monkey
tail’, that’s a mixture of gin and tree roots
DRIVER:
Dis shekpe no be your concern, just rush go house, your mama say if you come
make I tell you so
ME:
Tell me na, abi she no well? who scatter her shop like dis?
DRIVER:
Dis small boy e be like say you no dey hear word, I say go house
I
turned began to retrace my steps to the house, the moment I passed Ahmed’s batcher,
greeted him mum who sat on the ground crying, she didn’t respond, she kept
crying bitterly, as I approached my house, I saw a group of people numbering a
little above six, the moment they saw me they began to run towards me, a tall
guy amongst them grabbed me by the shoulder as an elderly woman amongst them
began to cry and shout
ELDERLY
WOMAN: God I say you no do well o! how you take kill dis woman like dis? sisi
caro wey no dey find trouble
I
felt like dying, it seemed to me like mother nature had passed a fatwa on me, I
felt there was no reason to live for, The death of my mother took a heavy toll
on me, I was not allowed into the house, I couldn’t afford to raise money for
mortuary services, even those that had the money to bring would tell me that
they don’t have, so I decided to meet Rambo, since he spends money lavishly on
prostitutes, to see if he could lend me cash, the path to his house was a scary
one, two guys who had the body of a body-builder stood by the entrance to his house,
puffing marijuna and gambling with card, Ahmed knew one of the guys, Sharp was
his nickname, a friend to his elder brother, they both turned and looked at us
as we approached them
SHARP:
Dis small boy wetin you dey come find for here? athink na you wey motor fail
brake for park come kpai your mama?
I
told him yes and the reason for my visit to see Rambo, they let I and Ahmed in,
his room had two doors, a long assault rifle hung on the wall in the dark room,
fear gripped me as I tiptoed holding Ahmed’s hand, as we entered the next room
we saw Rambo having a good time with a prostitute and after he was done, Rambo
turned and noticed us.
RAMBO:
Wait wait! so una dey here dey watch king rambo where him dey ‘do something’
abi?
And
Ahmed lied immediately because we don’t want to upset him
AHMED:
Ah! ogbeni king rambo, we just dey enter here now now, as you dey turn na so we
just dey enter
RAMBO:
{walking towards us naked} una two get mind oh! even come my palace, wetin
bring una come here
I
was quick to cut in since it was my mum that was dead and not Ahmed’s
ME:
King rambo! my mama just kpai dis afternoon, I come so that you go borrow me
money make I take put her deadi body for mortuary, I go pay you back once my
school close for dis term, as i work for biscuit factory for ikeja i go bring
the money come
He
looked me for a while like I jus spoke words that was strange and stupid before
he turned first to the prostitute and gave her a hand gesture to dress and
leave and then turned towards us
RAMBO:
You dis small boy na today I confirm am say u be ode, you no just get sense, so
you wan carry money you go use survive go put for your mama wey don die head,
take this 70naira go meet akpan, him go use your mama shekpe take baff her, she
no go smell till you ready bury her.
I
didn’t take the money, I turned and left immediately, I ran back to my house,
pushed the crowd at the entrance to my house and ran straight to her corpse, I
could barely recognise my mother again, The bus had hit her so bad and laid by
her corpse till morning!
That
night I searched her box, I found ten thousand naira and pictures of her and
the man supposedly i guessed is my father, by morning Ahmed’s mum, Rahanatu and
Ahmed entered my house and helped me get up before some area boys helped me
lift her corpse and we headed for the cemetary, the cloud understood my pain
that day as it let out all its might on us, I cried and wished death upon
myself, and mama was buried.
I
was spending my first night alone in my house, everything looked strange, so I
strolled out to get drunk! that was the only way my mind could escape the
eminent doom that had befallen me, I passed an old scrapped bus that was parked
by the road side since I was kid till date, I heard moans and plea for mercy
and I knew the area boys was welcoming a new girl into the harsh life of the
ghetto, she was being raped by people she knew and would keep seeing for the
rest of her life, the girl’s voice sounded familiar like a voice I know so I
leaned by the bus and peeped, only to see Rambo hurriedly raping Rahanatu while
two other guys held her hand so tight!, I was enraged with anger that I ran to
the opening by the other end of the bus and rushed to save Rahanatu from the
evil that had befallen her, but to my utmost surprise I was punched by one of
the guys that held one of her hands and Rambo turned his scary eyes towards me
and said
RAMBO:
Hold dat boy, I say catch am sidon am for ground, all the dis jonsing pikin for
dis place, make I finish I go come deal with you
The
guy that punched me, dived out of the bus and crashed on top of me and began to
throw punches at my face, I was bleeding profusely from my nose but didn’t
deter him as I watched Rambo shamelessly rape Rahanatu while she struggled in
vain as he continued raping her and was bragging
RAMBO:
So dis na your small boyfriend abi? I go enter you finish then beat am till I
tire
When
Rambo was through with heinous act he buckled his trousers, the other guy that
was holding Rahanatu handed him a bottle of local gin and he gulped all its
content at once, burst the bottle on the ground and turned towards me with one
sharp edge of the bottle
RAMBO:
I don see say you no dey fear, I go give you one wound for body so dat anytime
you look you go remember say na king Rambo do you dis thing
And
Rahanatu who was bleeding from being disvirgined crawled out of the bus and was
begging Rambo not to hurt me, and he turned, looked at her and turned to his
guys
RAMBO:
Make we dey comot from here........... to be continued
Life in the ghetto. sadly interesting
ReplyDelete