Here we feature two short stories from Nigerian writer Alagbe Omotayo: ‘What On Earth Are You Looking For In Heaven?’ and ‘Stingy And Wicked’
What On Earth Are You Looking For In Heaven?
Snoring like a tired pig, dreaming of some places blessed with nature at hand. But the rate at which my mum was binding spirits and telling God how much she loves Him made me realize it was already 7:15am.
I dashed to the bathroom releasing some gold-coated salty liquids and some refreshingly darkened stools with traces of vegetables around it after a quick intake of a glass of the universal solvent.
My mum cried out in one of her baritone and dreadful voices
“Andre, get out, you’re late boy!”
I quickly finished my great session. Putting on my well-ironed starched shirt and black pant trousers. I went for my Charles Southwell black shoes, dressing my Korede Bello type of hair, I said to myself “dia fada, I go finish Dem for this interview today.”
Noticing a soft and gentle touch on my right shoulder, I saw a flash of this brown gown my mum wore to my convocation from the mirror. She started like always with her now-cool alto voice,
“My dear, your Father in heaven will favor you today as you go”.
A thunderous ‘Amen’ was what she expected but I gave her my own version. With her unfading candor, she spoke for a quarter of an hour. She wished me well.
I rushed out of the house with the knowledge that I only had fifteen minutes to get to the interview. I thought to myself, “make I take bike jare, danfo go tey!”
Saw a bikeman with his teeth brown like chocolate cowbell.
“Ajibade” I said,
He replied “sebinty naira”
I told him “kai Mallam, walahi nah forty naira dey my hand.”
He said “pipty naira.”
I agreed and asked him to hurry. As we set in motion, I turned on my Innjoo Fire Plus to listen to ‘Top of the World’ by D’banj.
Like Fast and Furious, the movie, a short not wide but speedy mini vehicle popularly called Micra ran into us and caused a bad collision.
The harmonizing of people from different places around the world singing ‘Hallelujah’ in one accord was all I could hear.
“Am I dead?”
I could not conclude in my heart because while I was unable to join the concert, I equally could not recognize the scenery nor the language.
The voice of my mum crying and saying in between sobs
“Andre, please don’t leave me”
Made me open one of my stitched eyes. And looking to my right side, I saw the gravity of the injury the bikeman had sustained, Iya Andre shouted
“Doctor Doctor, he lives.”
The doctor rushed in and looked at me with great amazement.
The woman with whom I shared some certain resemblance said
“Young man, what on earth are you looking for in heaven?”
Stingy and Wicked
With just fifteen minutes to the end of the exam and two questions yet unanswered, I was wracking my brain to get it done. But the questions were like going up a mountain of a thousand and one feet. Since I didn’t want to cheat in my exam, I devised a method; write back the questions in my answer booklets.
There came the end of the exam. Movement began, students discussing in pairs as if there had been a terrorist attack on the school.
Yusuf asked in an anxious tone “guy weytin you get for question two?”
“I don forget my brother” was my reply.
He replied sharply, “it’s okay” and he disappeared into the thin air.
I knew if I had told him I didn’t attempt the question, he would have started his explanation on how to go about it with much candor and enthusiasm, which would have been regretful seeing how he would dish it out from his temple of knowledge.
Thinking out loud and soliloquizing on my way home.
“What could have been the reason I couldn’t answer those questions?”
“Was it because of that busty girl beside me that kept a random peep on my answer booklet?”
“NO!” I exclaimed.
“Oh my goodness” I remember, it was because of Damilola my roommate.
I kept thinking of how callous I was with the guy that morning in the examination hall. It kept dawning on me on how I could have turned this around today.
Woke up that morning to see Damilola destroying a bowl full with the famous colorful rice after a long jack through the night. I wanted to stand up to the occasion and join him in a clash of the titans but I remembered his stingy prowess and I stayed ‘asleep’.
I was really furious at this attitude of his. I kept on yearning for my own share of the food. But I had my own plan – to show him how wicked I can be.
As soon as he left for the bathroom after the disaster he caused the bowl, I jumped up to execute my plan.
With rage I took his well ironed-starched shirt and dipped it into a bucket filled with universal solvent and left for the kitchen.
On getting there, I saw another bowl filled with the same amount of the same meal he just consumed with a note beside it.
It said, “brother I didn’t want to disturb your sleep, enjoy yours.”
Wow! Tight one