Aint trying to steal the show, just felt like posting the first episode of a tale I wrote in case you missed it….

Permission granted!!!

I stretched, throwing my hands into the air with reckless abandon, I retracted one of them to rub my belly. My sweet belly which stood pot-like instead of the normal 6-packs. It was as round as a ball; a very hairy ball. I scratched on it, delaying a little bit on my navel before proceeding to my g---n area. I was met with a heavy resistance, my instrument making my boxers look undersize. Choi, I smiled to myself as I remembered the song I had downloaded from notjustok.com. Eriga had said, ”u no nid energy to make ur preek stand”, how right he was.

My drowsy eyes scanned my room and the discovery made the early morning sleep to run from it. Clothes were scattered here and there, plastic plates of unfinished meals dotted the ground while the rug looked aged with dust. I mused, if mama knows that this is the path I had taken, then I will be in for a long preaching.

I lazily walked round the room collecting my dirty clothes and heaping them in a corner while I used my leg to kick the plates outside which upon landing, I heard the happy cackling of hens as they struggled for the reminant of whatever had been inside the plate.

”Come, outside here no be your dustbin o, see as you just throw rubbish drop for dormot”

Ekaite retorted.

Ah, I quickly walked outside my one room, stopping close to the door to gaze at my face on the mirror hunged on the wall. I had bought it from one of the mallams riding bicycle and selling mirrors. Sometimes I wonder if the mirrors will fetch them profit, considering the number of wives they keep in the house.

I adjusted my fineboy face in the mirror, cleaning the oil that had formed on my pointed nose and the dried up mucus in my eyes, fixed a perfect smile on my face and winked at the image staring back at me. The going was good. I strolled outside into the morning sun that had already made its way to my dormot, the erected zinc’s shadow casted in another direction.

”Ekaite baby, why you dey vex na, na morning be this o and na you sef I just see for my dream as I dey wake up”

I said having patted her on the chin. She was sitted on a low stool washing her clothes which constituted mainly of small small materials that could barely cover the body, but it was the reigning fashion. The water in which she was washing foamy, her hand invisible underneath it. Without raising her head to look at me, she spoke.

”Come, you think say I be one of the girls wey you dey colombi, me I get high class o, all this your talk no dey enter my head. My own na money for hand, back for….”

Like I wanted anything from her. Since I moved into the compound, she had always made passes at me, but I played it cool. Who would want a Ronaldinho for a babe, definately not me. I would not want to kiss someone and the next moment be asked if Myke Tyson was my neighbour, or I snatched Klitchiko’s girlfriend. I had an idea, like I always did.

”Ehm, Ekai-baby… This one wey you dey wash, help me na. You know say you dey like my sister and our love na right from our mama womb neh”

I flowed poetically, playing with her long hair which to me is her only attribute.

”If person no know you, na to just fall for you get am. Oya wetin you go give me”

I had prepared for this because I had done it countless times, I just went down in a squatting position and place a peck on her fore-head (ewwww), held her pimpled face, avoided her teeth and looked into her albinoish-cat eyes.

”You know say your beauty no get part 2 and anybody wey no value am go face me. I value you pass the food wey I dey chop (big lie, my stomach for flat na) and na for your eyes I go dey swim everyday (if I hear, make I bleach pass hypo?).”

She brought her head down and blushed, even her hands turn bright red. I just stood above her dancing alingo in my mind.

”Oya bring the clothes make I help you wash, leave your door open when you dey comot make I help arrange your room”

She said silently, almost inaudibly. I had jumped into the room and jumped back with the clothes. Dropping it by her side, I added:

”Wetin I go do without you, Ekai-baby, na you dey make my heart ring aloud like rose (if na wetin Davido talk be dat)”

I entered back into the room and returned with a bucket full of water which is always kept aside the room each night to avoid looking for water each night and made my way slowly down to the bathroom with a towel round my neck and my boxers bellowing in the wind while my pot belly bounced slightly.

Living the good life, I say to myself.

Welcome to my world… Attai, The Player from Kano.

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