THE TOWN-CRIER

Kere o, Kere o, Kere o

Akede oba is here, the anointed sound from the king’s lips

I have come to spit fire, for your king is angered

Today, the king emits ire unto the land

So gather your ears and lend them to your king’s voice

                                                      

I have heard you all flock like birds to the village square

Perching on trees and twittering tales about your king,

The kingmakers, his family and allies

If only you all knew what I know

I was once a bird like you all

But I was no ordinary bird

I was a singing bird, a canary

I sang about those who cover our heads with umbrellas

And pile money mansions over their heads

The palace guards who unseated their kings

My sonorous voice traversed this land weekly

But that was many moons ago

You have taunted and mocked me about the king’s second akede

Do you not know that when a dog stands beside a lion

Idle birds can only make sounds?

The noise from the playing ground will not stop the throng of my gong

The stones you hurl will not puncture my vocal chord

He was once like you too

Your king’s naked feet has been blistered by this rough grounds

He once had no crown to protect his royal head

His parents could not afford the white man’s books

For he is but a descendant of fishermen

Yet he is king today

These are troubled times

It is true that our land is fertile

Harvest is plentiful but the village is hungry

Do not be quick to cast aspersions on your king

Do not be deterred by the Pandora’s Box the chiefs’ committee on harvest has unraveled

Food will abound in the land soon

The king only needs another 4 years

You all know your queen was taken to a faraway city

The tales you spin about her condition

Might just put Mogaji Enudunjuyo’s story telling skills to test

Luckily, he is but Fagunwa’s creation

Let your queen be!

She will be back when she can

Her employer, the baale of Bayelsa is her fan

My job is not an easy one

But it is what I must do

So that when the king becomes oba ana

I will have a smorgasbord on my table

THE SCREAM THAT RUINED ME

 I can’t hear the alarm! I can’t hear the alarm! That was the first thought that flooded my brain and in one motion I had sprang up from my bed and reached under my pillow to switch my phone on and check the time. Hmnnnnn…came the sigh of relief as my screen revealed 4:10am. First phase of the mission accomplished!

LESSONS FROM MY FATHER

Father once told me a story, about a young boy and the boy’s father. You see, my father seemed to have this impetus to fill the void the absence of a grandmother was bound to create, especially in our knowledge of African folktales. He told many stories but this little boy’s own stood out because father didn’t tell me the morale of the story. He only told it and left me to decipher the meaning.

THIS GENIUS OF A THING (2)

                      

If you didn’t read the first part of this piece you can check the previous post. If you read it already then welcome to the beautiful entrance to heaven.

            

At the entrance to heaven, Fagunwa is stopped by Onibode for questioning.

THIS GENIUS OF A THING

My memory is travelling today of its own volition. It is going places I didn’t send it and if truth be told, places I only have a vague knowledge about. The gist is that I was lying idle today and came across the book ‘Ogboju Ode Ninu Igbo Irunmole’. Some of you have probably never heard of the book. Shame, shame, shame! It will be one of the great works of fiction you never read. So, I find myself travelling with the duo of Akara Ogun, transported into the various adventurous journeys on different quests and I got thinking. Let me confess that ever since I heard the story of that Nigerian boy who bagged a degree in Neuro Science and broke record at John Hopkin university, I have become somewhat discontented with my life. That is what happens when a person takes a step outside oneself in order to sift through the mystery that is our life.

AM I A PROSTITUTE (2)

 If you did not read the first part, check out the previous post. This is the concluding part and am sorry it took so long. It wasn't my intention to keep you in suspense (maybe a little), many things just came up. Enjoy it!

I walk back indoors, pull the zipper of my knee-length gown, remove my slippers and step onto the bed before I have the chance to change my mind. Chief flashes me a smile and tells me he actually prefers that I undress him but he is willing to let this pass. However, consequent times must be different. Now, I feel tears descending my face. Who assured him there will be a next time?

AM I A PROSTITUTE?

My stomach grumble continuously and I feel the consequent coil that starts from my lower abdomen and travels the length of my stomach. The bells in my head begin to sound and Professor Iwekaye’s head becomes enlarged in my sight. I suddenly have this mental image of a girl who slumps in class. She has no father, her mother is being treated at the hospital for typhoid, her younger sister needs money to pay her WAEC fees, this girl has not eaten in the last 3 days so she slumps in class. Of course she dies before getting to the hospital.