Bashir is the lean fulani type from Bauchi. Fine boy, tall, dark with eyes like a chic. He is very shy and will naturally sit alone or mind his business during discussions, drink outs, parties and all. But he was my closest friend then.
We went for a competition (he plays chess and soccer.) Then we were all lodged in same room. 3 days into our stay, one of our crazy friends Uzor came to the room and said, “Bullet (my nickname), why dis ya maalo friend stand for mouth of bathroom dey wait make everybody baff finish before him go baff?”
I was surprised myself. We propounded different reasons why he may not want to bathe with the other boys…
“Abi him get kuruno?” Says Jato.
“Abi him nor get d*ck?” Says Bay
“I think it’s unislamic to bath with other men watching”. Mooted Akeem
“Oh, he be ‘l’okol’obo!”
We all laughed about it.
A few minutes later, I peeped and saw him still waiting in line, with his long Jalabiya. I walked up to him and asked, “mallam, why you nor enter baff since na? Your game na 2 pm o and 12 don nack”.
He smiled, “make I wait make the guys baff finish”. I was about to turn and walk away when I noticed a bulge in his Jalabiya. I think am, “abi na snake?” So I decided to ask, “mallam, wetin dey ya Jalabiya wey reach ya knees so?”
He quickly covered up with his towel and smiled, looking away.
In the evening during our sit out, Bashir ran too me, “Shegu, abeg I need your help”.
Me confused asked, “wetin happen? You wan buy ya next match?!”
He narrated how this Calabar girl was after him and blablabla and he wanted me to tell her he is married.
We were about to round up when Louis walked up to us.
Now Loius ehn, she’s this kind of chic wey God create on a day He was happy. She get curves, the manCHESTer and ASSanal type, if you see her hairy legs ehn, if you see lips, chai! She come be dat kind geh wey if she dey talk to you, she go dey look you straight in the eyes. Dey use eyes nack you.
“Bashir, so you ran to Segun to save you? So tell me the story. Why don’t you like me? I nor fine!?”
I looked from Louis to Bashir, Bashir looked to me and then to the floor, clutching his manhood. So I broke the ice, “Louis, I like you, erm Bashir like you. Him just get one small comma.”
“Spokesman Sege, wetin be the comma?” She said to me, looking at me like who dem nor send wey dey put mouth for matter.
“He is married with 5 kids!” Looking at her straight. Of course I lied!
Louis looked from me to Bashir then to me, clasped her hands and laughed like a woman who was asked to pound fufu…”is that all? Shebi you na Muslim? You fit marry more than one wife? Me nor wan marry you o! I wan nack you ni o!”
Very bold. Daring and dangerous that Louis. Chai!
I felt small. E do me like make ground open make I enter. I looked at Louis, mouth wide open and she said to me, “wetin dey there? You see wetin dey ya friend under? Na so I like my ‘rope!”
She walked away and I faced Bashir and asked, “guy, wetin dey ya under?!”
Brethren, Bashir na donkey own he carry o! To crown it all, him na virgin.
Somehow, I gii am liver. Me, emi Oki, emi dudu…Then tell Louis wetin she need to know. She said to me, “no problem. I go teach am”.
The rest is history. This was in 1997.
Louis and Bashir go wan die if dem read this story. But thank God, no be their real names I take write the piece.
Happy Married Life guys. May what you have found last forever, amen.
Morale of the story:
if you have a tool please use it well (not many like it like that sha). If you want a thing, please go for it. No crime inside o, burn the shame!
SW&SH is a weekly series on here on my wall and on Chungai Media. Join me.
I am done, I am gone, I am ghost!