Category: Mr. President

Heavenly breaking. Shattering war. Bändit and Boko Haram. Politics skyrocketing. Citizens behaving like idîots. I looked at them all. Eventually I closed the news and leave the damn lunatics out there keeping on their maniac acts. You can’t beat government. They show you exactly what they thought you should believe.

About twenty minutes after my phone rang. It was Emmy, my far away manager.

“Sir,” he said. “Should I send her payment for this week?”

“Who?” I said.

“Your girlfriend, sir.”

“Do I have any?”

He smiled. “Yes boss! You have as many as you want.”

I nodded.

“Okay,” I said. “Send it.”

“Yes boss!” he replied and ended the call.

I checked my WhatsApp messages. Ten unread and six archived messages. I ignored the open messages and checked the achieved, they are more important people.

From LahLah: “When will you get home?”

From Aderonke: “I will come to check you at your office today.”

From Funmi: “Why are you taking longer to reply?”

From Funmi: “Are you there?”

From Aderonke: “You don’t reply me?”

From Funmi: “Are you with someone else? Are you busy?”

I ignored all the messages and locked my phone. I told the lady beside my shop that I’m coming. Then I took a long walk.

Life is beautiful. But only if you make it be. You added more problem to yourself? You added more problem to your life. The best way to unfuck your life is to know when to fuck up with people. And the best way to do it. And definitely how to do it.

I branched at a barber shop. The place look a little bit outdated. But I don’t care. Can you barb? Yes! I go in. You give me nonsense haircut? I turned it to a new style. I will tell people it was on purpose, that I told you to do exactly just that. Everyone even thought I was mad sometimes.

“It had been a long time sir,” the barber guy said.

I looked at him. What are you talking about? I’m not sure here. Is this a new tactic to make me look familiar.

He had about ten different employee. Oh sorry, apprentices. I wonder if they’re all crazy. Learning in a tiny shop like this? Is the guy claiming to be their boss running a computer brain? Even the damn computer was invented by a human skull and mendula oblaganta. Or was it not called mendula oblaganta? Hard to tell. Science and chemistry and biology all do the same thing: make an ass out of everyone and give us some shitty names we wouldn’t be able to keep up to no matter how hard we try.

Out of the ten apprentices there was two girls among them. Somewhere around twenty and twenty three years. The two of them seem okay. A little bit eye catching. I ignored them.

“Have we met before?” I asked the damn guy playing some silly tactic. But he grinned in return.

“Am sorry about that sir,” he said. “I just love to be friendly.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

He nodded. “The same style on your head sir?”

“Definitely.”

He ordered the girls around and one guy out of the remaining seven dummies. I glanced at them all. I wanted to ask them: Is any of you bold enough to make any of these girls your girlfriend? But I kept it to myself.

My style was always half-dallas. Still is. I liked it. It gave me some interesting look. Couple with some occasional retouch. Black and signing.

One of the girls walked up to me and said, “Sir?”

I looked at her and waited. Sir what?

She smiled with a little bit of cautious side glances at me and continue. “I will be the one to give you the best haircut sir.”

“I don’t need it to be the best,” I said. “And whoever do it is not my problem. Just cut the damn hair and I’ll get out of here.”

She smiled again and did that thing of glancing at me sideways. “Okay, sir.”

And I enjoyed it. She got the style perfect. And she was fast. And I didn’t fall asleep.

I paid and left their organization behind. The boss ran after me. I waited.

“My little girl said he wanted to be one of your students, training. For some time before she always mentioned someone she wants me to talk to,” the barber guy said.

I checked him all over again.

“Your little girl? Training? What is that all about?”

He cracked his knuckles. I thought he wanted to punch me. Which I figured would be a silly mistake. You don’t walk up to someone and talk to them and then crack your stupid knuckles while the person is staring at you with their two eyes opened. Except you’re an idiot. Or the person you wanted to punch is the idiot. But it turned out the guy was a little bit unsure how to say what he’s trying to explain.

“It’s like this,” he said eventually and went on about two minutes explaining all kinds of different scenarios to me.

First the girl that barb for me is her sister. And her mother died when the girl was twelve. But to me it felt normal, at least people die every hours in a day. Second the girl love to be a marathon runner. Right from secondary school she’d be putting herself out there trying and practicing, but no results. But one day she saw a tall guy running fast. She claimed she was tired and couldn’t keep up with the person.

“And that person happened to be me?” I asked the barber guy who is now turning himself to a narrator. He nodded.

“Yes!” the guy said. “She said you’re the one. And since that day she want you to ber her coach.”

I shook my head.

“She saw wrong. I only practice long distance jogging. And no way I’m an expert. There are thirty billion guys out there who could jog faster than me.”

The guy didn’t know what to say to that. So I patted him on the shoulder and walked on.

“Sir,” it wasn’t the guy. I looked back and saw the girl that barbed my hair crying.

“I heard you talking about my brother,” I said. “He lives almost all around. He got his scholarship when he was in Ede, studying computer engineering. Not a good character though. Always causing scene.”

The girl smiled. The rigid load still on her head.

“I’m not talking about your brother,” she looked at me. “I was talking about you.”

I nodded. There was confidence in her eyes. Like she didn’t care. I decided to play along.

“That’s the point,” I said. “Most people mistake me from my brother. But are we that look-alike?”

I could see a trace of confusion. She controlled it well. They were buying pancakes. The kids all grinning at it. I picked one.

The lady shook her head.

“Not at all, okay? I know exactly what I’m talking about.” She glanced at the pancake in my hand. “Who is paying for that?”

I pointed. “You, or her.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“I’m not kidding. You know who exactly my brother dated. And definitely you already know he impregnated two out of the girls before he had an accident. So don’t tell me #50 naira is too much for you to handle.”

I was bûllshîting. People fell for it, times without number. I wasn’t serious about it either. Just some crazy flow. And now the girl is buying it. And it was the accident that caused it.

Very hard for her not to buy it anyway. Impregnated two out of the girls. Got an accident later on. Are you serious? Was I truly mistaken? But what about the #50 naira pancake? He is sure paying for it right? I smiled secretly. One of the kids came beside me and stretch her hand, or was it his hand, hard to tell, she or he looks exactly like a girl and a boy, all at the same time, there was pancake in she or he hand.

“You want to give me this?” I said to the little she.

“Mm,” she nodded with certainty.

I collected the pancake and take a bite. No point making the kid wait. It will be impolite. And out of manner.

The kid smiled and ran back to her mother. The second lady. Or woman. The less rigid no heavy load in my head girl.

I looked back at the rigid looking woman. “You understand me now? My brother is Lake Chas I am Isaiah Lasisi. He wasn’t born in Nigeria. And our two dâmn parents really did a great job pulling that out. Taking advantage of the immigration.”

The girl was left dumbstruck.

I took out a #200 naira note in my pocket and paid for my pancake and the little she or he girl. Then I bought another two and passed one to the little Lolita.

“So are you a girl or a boy now?” I said to her. “You look confusing.”

The less rigid girl glared at me. “My kid is not looking confusing. She’s a girl.”

I smiled at her. “Thank you for this great explanation. I would have taken her to be a boy if you didn’t say.”

“My mom used to get angry,” the kid cover her mouth with both hands and whispered in my direction. But is that a whisper? All of us hear you clearly kid.

“Maybe your mom get stressed too much by your dad.”

She shook her head.

“No,” the kid said. “My dad was never around. My mommy said he works somewhere far.”

I nodded to the kid. “Appreciate your mommy very well, okay? Your mommy knows a great way of bûllshîting all kinds of jargons to your head.”

“Bu-s-h… what is that? Is my mommy… I love my mommy.”

I glanced at her mommy. She glared at me.

“Keep loving your mommy okay? And thank you for the pancake.” I said to the kid and resumed back to my easing myself mission.

The kid called out as I left. “Thank you too. It is too you buy for me.”

Bought for me, I thought. I smiled and nodded without turning back. Mission already accomplished.

Whether the rigid girl totally believe me or not was not in my agenda to worry about. But sure, I indeed have a brother. But no, he didn’t look like me. Not at all. In fact we are both two different person. And he is older. He took two months from me. His mother was the mother that mother my mother. My mother is his mother first born.

He was a trouble maker. A reasonable trouble maker. Currently he went to village. He said he wanted to build an Imperial City right there in our hometown. Maybe he drank too much of caffeine that day. Or it was alcohol. Imperial City? Imperial City my a*s! But I remembered there was a girl with us that day. Maybe he was trying to impress her.

His real name is Noah. Noah Olayiwola. But he loves putting on a show. Plenty unnecessary show. He would go on to tell you what and everything he couldn’t achieve in twenty-five years and claim it to be done by the next three months. Eventually I got tired of his bûllshît. So I gave him a name, Lake Chas. I brainwashed him. He always assumed he is smarter than everyone. And everyone knew he is the dumbest of all. But we made him appear as being smart. At least that way everyone will have a peaceful life.

After easing myself I went back to my office-looking shop. Picked my phone and checked what is going on in the world.

The whole world want to live a different story. I smirked. A dream that is not possible. Government are wise. They know how to add more suffering.

I sipped my alcohol. A disguise. The original alcohol is actually X-MAN, one medium size 200ml and one small size 100ml. And now poured in a Fearless energy drink container. With additional 300ml natural water. Of course it made it lose the original taste. But is staying alive not more important than getting damaged by alcohol?

People were walking by. Why would they not? Here is my office. And they’re going wherever they want to go. Some look happy. Some disgusted. The happy ones smiled at me as they passed. Occasionally some are calling my name. I nodded to them all. I just glared at the disgusted ones. Who cares? Their problem.

Life is all about misleading people. You wanted to become a billionaire? You become a millionaire first. You want to travel abroad? You travel through your country, interstate. Then you travel abroad. You wanted to settle down and start building your own family? You get yourself a partner first, then you both lied to each other until you’re both blue on the face. And finally, you both said Okay, let’s stop lying, let’s see where this relationship is taking us. And boom! One of you get pregnant and the other started running around trying to be a good husband, a good father, only to get smacked in the face with bûllshît parents and inlaws. Excellent.

I glanced inside my office. Because it’s not really an office. It’s a shop. A shop disguised as a liquor shop. A shop where people come to buy their favourite drinks only to manage to get two out of seven different types they want. They always complain. I always ignore them. Because I already made the name of the business sound strange. In the six feet by two feet banner outside, it read: Drink Like Legends. So if a customer wanted to complain and lament that he couldn’t find his favourite drink. I would say, Drink like legends, okay? Which I am unashamed about. Since you couldn’t find your favourite drink in my shop, it mean it’s not part of the drink I am interested in selling. So get the fück out!

Looking at the time. 17:20. No sales since morning. I resumed at twelve o’clock in the afternoon anyway. I shrugged. No qualm. This establishment is really not for average people anyway. And if no one comes to buy, I will always drink my shît. I smiled. Major reason I opened the liquor shop. A safe place for me to carry out my mission. I’m a long distance jogger. And a badass when it comes to dealing with business tycoons. They always thought they’re smart. They’re not. All they do is bûllshît their way into human mind. And feed people with all kind of bûllshît emotional lies to make them buy their things. But either way, I couldn’t blame them. Since life is run on pretentious altitude. You appear bigger outside only to be tiny inside. Crâzy people.

I stood up. There was two girls walking past the tiny street. Women, not girls. They both have kids behind and in front of them. I wonder when they started having kids, the two of them are not that old, are they? One was wearing black gown. One bûllshît Ghana-must-go design sack unreasonably packaged and tied was placed rigidly on top of her head. She was holding it with two hands and the kids walking on in the front by themselves. The other lady was a little bit better. But more worse compare their outlook. The one with rigid load on her head look exactly beautiful than the one walking behind. Both with kids. Or both already born two kids each.

“Well done sir,” the lady with rigid load said. I looked at her and nodded. The other lady didn’t say anything. I walked on, since my initial plan of standing up is to go and ease myself.

“Do you know him?” I heard the second lady, asking the one with rigid load.

“Yes,” I heard the lady with rigid load answer. “Actually he is good at running around. Day and night he is always there. I always thought he had nothing important to do with his life.”

They were talking low, but I could hear them, clearly. But then I was smiling. Because mostly people always thought I had nothing much going on in my life.

“Did he have a girlfriend?” now they were buying something at the forth shop alongside my liquor looking like office shop. “At least he should. You know, if he can jog he can also do that thing right?”

Huh? What kind of thinker is this? No wonder she said nothing when her friend greeted me. Dirty mind.

I felt the girl with rigid load chuckled. I looked back at them. They were busy with whatever they were buying. She said, “I know one of his girlfriends. His name is Lake Chas.”

What? I double checked the girl. Do I know her? Not sure. I changed my direction and walked straight to them.