my life on campus EPISODE 26 All efforts to alter the thought that it was Bayo failed. I remained as stiff as a poker on the tank I sat on and quickly rendered a short prayer to God to accept my sinful soul. I had no choice than to appease Bayo’s angry gods to temper justice with mercy. “Bayo, I know I have wronged you. Am so sorry please. Don’t kill me please.” I pleaded, with no knowledge of the person whose hand was on my shoulder. The person kept mute, with his hand still resting on my shoulder after all the imploration. I composed myself and took the courage to find out who it was. At a snail’s pace, I turned around to gaze at the fellow who’s tempering with my security. My heart stopped racing and became completely relaxed when I realized who it was, Buhari. “Oh my God! Buhari! You are the one?” I asked, still tensed. “You got me scared na.” “Am sorry. I never meant to.” Buhari said. “You should have at least said something to save me the tension.” I grumbled with a frown on my face. “I didn’t say anything because I wondered why you were shaking and praying silently immediately I touched you.” “Hmmm, yes I was praying. I am observing a vigil.” “Is this where to pray? Why choose here when you can go to the field?” He questioned. I was already annoyed with his silly questions so I yelled, “Buhari, what’s your business with me or where I pray?” “I am sorry. Why shout at me?” He said with pity. “I was only making a phone call when I saw you from afar about to fetch water and I deemed it fit to come say hi. Since you feel bad with that, good night.” He was leaving when I hurried to him, threw my left hand around his neck and said, “Buhari, am sorry. I never meant to shout at you. Please pardon my attitude.” “No problem. We are cool.” “Sure?” He nodded and replied, “Sure.” “Thanks for understanding. Good night.” I said and smiled. With a joyful heart, I retreated to the tap to carry my bucket of water, which was yet to be filled to the brim after all these years. I had no more time to waste after the ones I had wasted, so I picked up my bucket of water and headed for the bathroom. I had a cool bath, and felt fresh like a fish. I got to my room, bolted the door, turned off the light and buried myself under my blanket. Staying in this school isnt safe for me any longer, so I decided to make my way back home, I called it quit. What shall it profit a man to gain B.Sc and forfeit his soul, I thought to myself, rephrasing the Bible quote. I didnt take the trouble of carrying my luggage, I left them all in my room. I got home with a particular frame of mind that my mother would sight me from afar, runs quickly to welcome me and give me a hug like it happened to the prodigal son; I wasnt a prodigal son though, just running away from Bayo’s threat. None of what I expected happened. I got home to meet people clustered all around my house. They were not just gathered but were weeping out their eyes. I got closer and closer to the main scene, I didnt believe what my mind was whispering to me, so I questioned a mourner. “Please, are you people acting a movie?” I curiously asked the opposite of what my mind was whispering to me. “Ha! O ti gbo ni?” The mourner asked with more tears dropping from her eyes, which means, ‘Ha! Haven’t you heard?’ I smiled and said, “I heard a rumour that Nollywood wants to use this house to shoot a movie. Is that not it?” She gave a long hiss like a snake, disgustingly gazed at me like a dirty laundry and shifted away from me. I treated all that lightly. My mind was approved a ten over ten immediately I saw Sisi Nene weeping also. I hurriedly forged through the crowd and got to her in a jiffy. “Nene, what’s happening?” I asked almost crying. She was crying profusely like a baby denied bosom milk, she was talking but her words werent audible. “Nene, please calm down and talk to me.” She quickly wiped her tears, swallowed her spit and said, “It’s you parents.” “Ehn Ehn, what happened to them?” I anxiously asked. “It’s your parents o.” She repeated. I jolted her and roared for an answer, “I said what happened to them?” “They were both killed not quite long.” I shouted aloud, “JEEEESSSSSSSUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSS!!!” The whole crowd paused their tears and concentrated on me, I wanted to cry but the tears were too thick to drop. I asked Sisi Nene again, “Who killed my parent?” “I swear, we all don’t know. The only clue we have is with Old Soldier.” I left the crowd with speed, running fast to Old Soldier’s house, which was just the next street to ours. Old Soldier was our landlord, he was not as old as he was called. I arrived and barged into his house like a soldier too. “Banji, calm down!” He attacked me, knowing why I came. “Sir! I need the clue. What is the clue? Let me see it.” I angrily requested. “Banji, sit down.” He calmly said. “Sir, I said I need the clue to the death of my parents.” I yelled. He stood up, and angrily shouted, “I said sit down!” When a soldier is angry, your madness should better heal up else you will live with an eternal scar on your cheek. I sat down quickly, calm and cool like a dove with no wrinkle of anger on my face. “Better!” He said and walked into another room. Old Soldier came out and handed a paper to me. I skimmed through the note and I was completely bolted from the blue. I gazed at Old Soldier, He gazed back at me, He looked elsewhere, I returned my focus back to the note. TO BE CONTINUED...
Posted on: Fri, 16 Jan 2015 10:00:01 +0000