Permit me to skip the part where I act like I’m interested in how you are doing and tell you how I’m doing. Today’s story straight out the Life of Shovel is one I want to jump right into.
First things first, if you ever went to a ‘standard’ Nigerian boarding school, surely you know the evils of that place; suffering, struggle, wickedness, ‘slying’, bullying and all.
You see, in Secondary school, junior school to be precise; I was a bad sharp guy; that’s what I thought. I hated many of my seniors; everyone hates seniors anyway. There was this one beast that I hated the most. I’ll call him O for security reasons. Screw this, his name was Osarume. I don’t care if you see this. Nigga I hate you so much. Words can’t describe how much I hate you.
Osarume was a tyrant (Feels so good to say his name without addressing him as ‘Senior’). This guy was more evil than the devil. He derived joy and pleasure in inflicting pain and watching others suffer. It was obvious I hated him so he always made sure I never smiled while he was around. Mind you, this particular guy wasn’t your average bully. But this story isn’t about Osarume; there are many other idiots in this life, and one of them is the main character on this episode of ‘Life of Shovel’.
On this episode of Life of Shovel, we witness yours truly reap the fruit of his labor. This particular story features one great and powerful frog. I don’t want to say his name cos it isn’t worth typing. I’ll make this brief cos I have other stuff to do.
This particular guy was a very funny and disturbed bully. He was two years ahead of me and he was the dirtiest thing alive so I always found it funny when he tried it be wicked. But we all know how this life works; small power and mans head go swell.
This guy’s art of wickedness was not bad. I respected him cos his wickedness had nice traces of creativity. Nigga always made sure he did things differently. The details aren’t necessary as they are not the main point of this story.
Story Story Blah Blah Blah, I changed schools and so I was free from this guy. Few years later, I jammed him in University. The first day he saw me, he offered me a handshake which I gladly accepted cos uno, keep your friends close but your enemies closer. Over time, I bumped into him more and we always exchanged a handshake, fist bump, or thumbs up.
I like it when people think they know when they really don’t know; or when people think they are friends when in truth, they are managing to be acquaintances.
I got tired of pretending to be more mature now. Acting like I had forgiven and forgotten everything this bobo had done to me got boring cos I didn’t. I still hated him. For god’s sake, I saw the scar from one time nigga stabbed my arm. Plus he lashed me on my back a few times; I don’t like getting lashed on my back K
We know how God can be at times. When he knows we want something for the wrong reasons, he doesn’t give us. I always hoped that one day; Mr. Almost-As-Evil-As-Osarume would need me.
Sort of contradictory, God never disappoints too. One day like this, I went to eat in one cuisine like that. It wasn’t a buka; just saying.
Dodo is the best thing to eat with your Jollof rice. I was on the final piece of Dodo when out of nowhere; someone tapped me on my shoulder and said Hi. Yup, you must have guessed it, it was our guy. I said Hello and shook his outstretched arm. After the fake exchange of greetings, my guy said he needed 150 naira and that he wasn’t with enough money and he couldn’t pay the full amount on his bill.
Is Jehovah Jireh not too wonderful?
I didn’t waste time. Speed of Flash and Zoom, the ‘No’ was sharp and loud. It was too obvious that it was a fake No. But uno na, one day bush meat go catch the hunter; one day, the hunter will be hunted, every day for the thief, one day for the owner. Today I was the hunter; I was the owner. His father.
He begged me to give him whatever I had cos he had already eaten. I said No even louder. When it was obvious I wasn’t gonna help him, he left and got back on his table. Head in his hands, clearly confused, he began to shake.
The heart of man can be wicked people. When I was done with my food, I got up, went to the counter, bought two cartons of Five Alive and began to walk towards the entrance/exit of the cuisine.
On the way out I stopped at bad man’s table and placed one of the cartons in front of him. He looked up, obviously disgusted and annoyed and watched me walk out (although awkwardly) like a boss.
Five alive was 250 bucks…but…