THICK RED LIQUID

I lay there quietly without disturbance. Then I heard the noise, no, bangs. I'm used to bangs. In fact, things do not form and fall in place if there ain't bangs.
Innocuously I thought things were only taking form and being created.

It started in the garage.
The engine roared softly and was put to bed as usual. They always put her to bed before going to bed themselves. Humans, even when their babies are still awake crying, the engine would have been long asleep.
Something tells me they care about their engines more than anything else because they make certain she rest first.

Adamu slammed the door to the 2016 Toyota Tundra full-size truck and punched on the lock button on his keys. His countenance had switched from belligerent anger towards the crazy traffic on the island to a sanctimonious calm -at least on the surface.

His wife Jeanne was on the phone, she chattered away heartily on the black leather sofa without noticing her husband behind her.

"Oui, it's complicated now Dave, and you know it. I'm already married. We can't be doing this anymore." she said in a sweet feminine voice that portrayed affection towards the caller.

Adamu couldn't believe this Dave could still reach his wife. He had changed all her lines when she got back from Paris and also closed all her social media accounts before opening a new one for her in a different name. She was brand new like a virgin.
How on earth did he come to get her again? Or did she contacted him? He was confused.

"Est-ce qu'il l'est encore? (is that him again?)" Adamu asked.
Jeanne was startled but immediately got up to welcome her husband. She had disconnected the line and put the phone on the glass center table.

"Mon amour" she said.
Scenes of models like Jeanne parading themselves in see-through dresses displayed on the ultra slim 52-inch TV.

"Tu m'as fait peur! You scared the hell out of me." Jeanne said and spread her arms wide in warm embrace and tried to kiss Adamu but he turned his cheeks and she pecked him.

"Is that him again? The Dave guy" Adamu repeated. His anger had returned and he looked at her disgustingly.
What craze made me marry a white woman? He seemed to ask.

"What is it Adamu?! Qu'est-ce que c'est? I'm sick and tired of all you jealous Nigerian men." she said and turned to return to her seat when Adamu grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him. She staggered and he added to her staggering equipoise two resetting slaps. Perhaps, he thought, it would teach her that African men do not tolerate nonsense and romanticised rubbish from their wives.

This was when the pounding and banging started. Like I said, I thought they were creating art. (Please do not ask me how I got to know all these, I have my ways, and besides, there are walls everywhere, and walls they say got ears.)

First it was raised voices, threats of divorce and cops and jail.
Then a crash followed; it was the sound of glass against concrete.

"How dare you break my center table!"

"How dare you slap me?!"

She picked a fragment of the broken ruins and aimed it at Adamu.
Shit!
She missed.

Jeanne rushed to pick another but Adamu was fast enough to carry the blonde witch away from the ruin of glass and put her on his shoulder.
He was determined to throw her out of his house before she destroyed all his expensive properties.

Jeanne scratched and punch and bite, but she was nothing but a baby throwing tantrums at a muscled young man.

"Today, you sleep on the streets! Mad woman!"

Beside the staircase was a ceramic flower vase, and Jeanne was quick enough to lift it and smash it on Adamu's head.
He threw the French witch away and she darted towards the kitchen. Adamu took a moment to recover from the shock and then skittered to the kitchen.

"Sortez de chez moi votre prostituée Française!"

He staggered into the kitchen and a speeding knife whoosh past his face just INCHES away!
She then picked a bowl of fruits on the kitchen table and threw it at him, but Adamu blocked it with his left arm and it crashed against the fridge, causing various fruits to scatter here and there.

Adamu then caught his wife by the neck, almost choking her to death. He was hot. Jeanne gasped, her eyes shot red reached for anything beside her but there was nothing.

Adamu pushed her to the far wall and pinned her there.
They were both desperate. Something hot was running through their veins.

Jeanne reached out again for anything and this time she caught a cold pot of chicken stew on the gas cooker and splashed it all over him, closing her eyes in the process as they both took a fair share of the peppery bounty.

"Aaaarrrggghhhh!... My eyes! You witch!..." Adamu yelled and reached for the basin.
Just then Jeanne caught me -the pestle.
She gave Adamu heavy blows on his head as though he were cooked yam.

The muscled young man then fell to the ground like a defeated pack of cards, each body part awkwardly splaying on the ground.

Then the spirit left her. I believe it's a spirit because she gently put me on the kitchen table. That was when I got my chance to rebel. She had separated me from my wife and made me cheat on her.
All my life I had pounded only her; but today, that has changed. I pounded something else, and worse still, it was a 'he'. Yuck!

I rolled on the kitchen table, knocking everything I came in contact with askew. We all dropped on the tiled floor with varying degrees; some crashed, others bounced.
I didn't crash or bounce, I rolled till I was stopped by the treacherous gas cooker, that was when I had a view of Jeanne. She knelt beside Adamu, her hands smeared in thick red liquid.
Humans call it blood, but we call it the thick red liquid, and it made humans do the things they regret when it is hot.

~Angel Messi~
Photocredit: Google

Adventures of TEACHER CHIKE

TEACHER CHIKE

April 2000

Bisi: Teacher Chike good evening sir
Teacher Chike: Bisi how are you?
Bisi: I’m fine sir thank you sir.
Teacher Chike: how is your mother and siblings? Is your father back from Kaduna?
Bisi: they are fine sir. Baba is not yet back sir.
Teacher Chike: Alright. So how may I help you young man?

Bisi scratches his head, brought out his books and began to stammer

Bisi: Eeerrrr… Ssir… I mean… I…

Teacher Chike checks his Sagem phone and smiles; the time on the blue screen read: 15 minutes to 7pm. He had an appointment with the local government Chairman at 7:15pm.
Bisi is one of Teacher Chike’s students and he was a serious fellow with a bright future; Teacher Chike was sure of it and this endeared Bisi to him. If any student needed academic help, Teacher Chike was more than enough –he taught mathematics, English, chemistry, physics, further mathematics, geography, English literature and history— gas for their engine.
Teacher Chike collects the mathematics textbook from the stammering Bisi and ordered him to grab a chair at the backyard.

Teacher Chike: please be fast I have a meeting with the chairman at seven fifteen.

Bisi skitters to the backyard in delirious excitement. He knew Teacher Chike was the only one that could help him pass his WAEC and also gain admission into the university.

The following day, Teacher Chike woke up as early as possible and proceeded to the Chairman’s house. He and Bisi had revised into the wee hours of morning. He even had to prepare concoction rice and boiled egg for the boy when he realized he was no longer concentrating. He had also managed to call Bisi’s mother on her landlord’s phone, informing her that Bisi was with him and would be coming home as early as possible in the morning before going to write his exam.  Mama Bisi was happy and full of prayers for the school teacher, “May God bless our teachers…” she said repeatedly over the line while her landlord stood over her refusing to give her any room for privacy. “…most especially you Teacher Chike. One day, you will become the honourable minister of Eductaion.” she added.

Teacher Chike on getting to the Chairman’s house was informed by his wife that the Chairman had travelled to Abuja yesterday night. Teacher Chike then collected the Chairman’s number and called him immediately.

Teacher Chike: Hello Mr. Chairman Sir, good morning sir. This is Chinua Ikemefuna
Chairman: yes good morning, how may I help you?
Teacher Chike: sir I was supposed to see you yesterday sir, it is me Chinua Ikemefuna.
Chairman: Chinua?... See me?... Yesterday?... How? Chinua from where?
Teacher Chike: Chinua from Orile sir, your constituency sir.
Chairman: Chinua… chinua… I can’t re…

Teacher Chike cuts in.

Teacher Chike: it is me sir, Teacher Chike.
He said rather sheepishly.
Chairman: Oh oh oh… Teacher Chike!

The chairman exclaimed and started laughing

Chairman: which one is Chinua chinua that you were now saying since morning? Chinua bawo? I was even beginning to think that you are the descendant of Chinua Achebe. You should have just said Teacher Chike. Finish. Story close. Ahan…

They both laughed over the line at the Chairman’s supposed hilarious joke, the chairman’s laugh a little too loud that Teacher Chike had to remove the receiver away from his ear for a second before returning it.

Chairman: I waited for you yesterday till around past eight. What happened? I didn’t have your number I would have called. We were supposed to travel together yesterday night so we can see the minister for Arts and Culture.

The chairman paused, cleared his throat, and then continued.

Chairman: we had a deal and I recommended you to him. Unfortunately you couldn’t make it. I am afraid the deal is now off. I’m sorry Teacher Chike, I really tried to lock it down for you but the minister insists on seeing you. He said you weren’t serious.

Teacher Chike was bathed in perspiration at this shocking revelation even though the air conditioning in the chairman’s living room was at 98% efficiency.

Teacher Chike: Eerrr…Sss…Ssir…Pplee….
Chairman: Don’t worry when I come back we’ll look for other opportunities ok? Please I have to go now, I have a meeting. Thank you Teacher Chike.

(Phone disconnects)

Chairman’s Wife: Teacher Chike are you okay?

Teacher Chike stared blankly at his phone.

Chairman’s Wife: Teacher Chike?

Teacher Chike stood up silently and found his way out. He had a little problem with the doorknob which the Chairman’s wife noticed and quickly jumped to his rescue.

Chairman’s Wife: don’t come and spoil door for me biko

She mumbled under her breath as she shut the door.

Later that evening, after visiting his friend Papa J the palm wine seller, his mood became lively and light. “What troubleth thou? Come to me, my burden is featherweight, and the bees will make lightweight of your worries.” Papa J had said to Teacher Chike that morning when he saw him downcast.

Teacher Chike tarried at his place till he was wiped out. On getting home he crashed onto his double decker bed without removing his clothes. He woke up hours later and tried to eat a roasted corn he found at the top corner of his bed. --He had no idea how it got there but he was sure he bought it with his money on his way back from Papa J’s. The corn was harder than stone; he thought he’d have better luck munching stones than eating the damned thing. He later threw it into the waste bin and stepped out to enjoy the cool evening breeze.

Some minutes later Bisi joined him.

Bisi: Teacher Chike good evening sir!

Bisi said and saluted. He stood rooted at a spot and banged his left foot on the concrete floor.
Teacher Chike smiled faintly, he still felt the effect of the mixed palm wine and stout he took at Papa J’s, coupled with the heartbreaking news from the Chairman.

Teacher Chike: How was your exam Bisi?

Bisi dragged a bench and sat beside him.

Bisi: Sir the exam was awesome!

His face lights up.

Bisi: everything you taught me came out and I solved them all. It was just like I was solving past questions. Some were even word for word! Thank you sir!
Teacher Chike: those people do not have questions again. They keep recycling old questions I wonder how some students still fail. Anyways, when you are also about to write your JAMB just come let’s revise. Those ones too do not have questions. Back in the days when WAEC and JAMB was still WAEC and JAMB who born monkey?

Bisi chuckled. He checked his wristwatch and mumbled something about his mother sending him on errand so he had to leave. Teacher Chike just nodded as Bisi left. The news brought to him a fresh air of hope.

Just then, Rauf passed by and also came to greet Teacher Chike

Rauf: Aah! Master! Master de master! Good evening sir.

Teacher Chike shakes his head in unbelief at the sight of his most troublesome student. His one-sided tucked in uniform was meticulously starched and ironed. The right leg of his trousers was slightly folded making his trousers uneven in length.

Rauf was trouble and everybody avoided his ‘wahala’, but he feared and respected Teacher Chike. –that was the only person that would sneeze and Rauf will catch a cold.

Teacher Chike: you and this your hilarious way of dressing, Rauf!

Teacher Chike said and laughed out loud.

Rauf: Master de Master! Twakasa fun master!

Rauf said. This time around he raised both hands in the air and stomped his feet simultaneously like a convivial baboon showing off its territoriality to a prospective mate.

Teacher Chike: how was your exam today?
Rauf: Master that exam no be here o! It was very hard. E hard die!
Teacher Chike: Hmmm… Rauf… but I told you to see me last week so we’d revise. You never showed up, and had since been avoiding me –literally.
Rauf: Master it’s not like that. Just that this school thing ehn… e get as e be master I no go lie sir.
Teacher Chike: Hmmm… God will help you oo! Heaven knows I tried my best on you.
Rauf: HA! Master! Heaven know ooo! Aye gan know! Walahi! Twale! Ehn! Master de master! Twakasa!

17 Years Later…

A black Range Rover Evoque 2016 with darkened windows cruised into the suburb of Orile Iganmu. The streets were waterlogged from the heavy downpour of the past three days, and it is believed to continue like that for the next four days. It is mythically referred to as the seven days rain.

Teacher Chike returning from school; his peeled off brown leather folder was glued to his underarms. He wore patched baggy chinos on a faded cream shirt with extremely faded collar.
He stopped at the roadside to buy ‘ubeni’ –fresh roasted corn.

The man in the black Range Rover removes his shades just to be sure he still possesses eyes that sees.

Bisi: Is that not Teacher Chike?

He asked his wife.

Wife: who is Teacher Chike?
Bisi: that man buying roasted corn at that junction.

He says, pointing in the teacher’s direction.

Bisi: He used to be my teacher and tutor back in the days. The man was so good there was nothing he couldn’t teach. He even taught French and Chinese.
Wife: Hmmm… Bisibisibisi… Muule! Nla nla ni! Drop it! Akika!

His wife said and laughed. Bisi frowned, his brows furrowed in concentration at the long lost teacher and his wife immediately stopped laughing

Wife: Eeyah… that’s one of the problems we have in this country. We seldom appreciate our teachers except on teachers’ day when they suddenly become overnight broke celebrities.
Bisi: I’m telling you honey, this government is just crazily inert when it comes to matters like these, yet they keep spending billions of naira on schizophrenic doofy pilgrimages.

He said and cruised away.

Teacher Chike bought three roasted corns and was busy negotiating a fair price when Rauf met him at the junction.

Rauf: Ha! Maaaaaaaster! Master de master! Twakasa fun master!

Teacher Chike was embarrassed. Rauf had become a notorious highway thug who collects money forcibly from commercial motorists at Mile 2. He wasn’t proud of him and avoided him should the slightest chance suffice.

Rauf: Ha… Master don’t worry…don’t worry… I’ll pay. How much be the thing wey master buy?

He asked the corn seller.

Corn Seller: Two hundred naira.
Teacher Chike:  Haba… Rauf don’t sweat it I have change let me pay.
Rauf: Noooo… sweat bawo? With all this rain wey de fall fall every time how I wan take sweat? Oooh…master lasan… lailai… just let me pay jejely.

He gave the girl a five hundred naira bill

Rauf: Oya take this figo gimme change.

He then brought out two five hundred naira notes and expertly folds it in his hand and squeezes it into Teacher Chike’s left pocket like a typical commercial motorist would do when caught by a police officer.

Rauf: Master abeg take this one gum body. Please don’t say no.

Teacher Chike reluctantly voiced his thanks. He had wanted to buy the corn on credit before Rauf’s intervention shifted his shame a day farther.

Teacher Chike: Thank you Rauf, thank you.

Teacher Chike mumbled under his dry breath, and said a silent prayer for him.

~Angel Messi~