In all the years I have lived; with a birth at the tail–end of the dreary days of Babanginda which I saw mostly through the eyes of Mama Yetty, then a sail through the even drearier days of the 7th king of Nigeria (do the math), to the transition years of Abdusalami up until the ascension to power of “Babalegba” (Baba Iyabo, just so you may have a clearer picture), I have killed things; things like ants that choose to over – romance my pack of St. Louis Sugar; Spiders who stay too long drawing up tapestry in the midair above my bedspace; Snakes that made the mistake of walking into Mama Yetty’s village kitchen at the wrong time of the night; Scorpions who are still forming “omo – onile” when we had set up tents for Bible Camps in the wilderness; errant Cockroaches that choose to forget that the “garbageria” is where it belongs; some rebellious Rats who will choose to raid the pantry in the dead of night, and not to forget, the dark buzzer of the night – mosquitoes – that kept coming back for more (the second bite herald a sure death – I never miss #taps chest); although I have not been able to find my way around the killing of chickens and livestock, I guess that’s just the vegetarian in me revolting against the barbarity of men; I just can’t bear taking the lives of innocent and helpless animals who has done nothing to make me react in self preservation.
Well, I almost broke that jinx (sorry) phobia yesterday, and what I will be killing would not have been a chicken or livestock; it would have been a humanstock (yes you heard me), a full grown human stock and the Screamer headline you’ll probably be seeing in today’s Punch would have been - “Teenage boy kills Lawma official”.
Hold that thought while I regale you.
Just as I was walking back on my own “jejely” from GTBank just around our office here at Herbert Macaulay where I had gone on some official assignments for the Manager, na so I just sight this their LAWMA truck stopping at the bend right at the entrance of the bank, I didn’t even mind the LAWMA trucks’ signatory smell that announce their arrival in any neighborhood (since I can hold my breath long enough to leave the stench behind), I just walked on, I could not wait to get back to the office, but little did I know that I won’t be getting to the office as soon as I had anticipated. No sooner had the trucked stopped did the LAWMA hit men in their overcolored orange overalls jumped down to assassinate the pile of garbage that was lying comfortably by the side of the road. Of course, I had fancied from afar, the vigor with which they worked, but as I got closer, I started to have this strange sensation which I waved off as soon as it came. But maybe I shouldn’t have waved it off that quickly, because just as I was going to walk past them, one of the LAWMA hit men, scratched me wide chest with a first grade pile of dirt *slow motion. #silence.
5 Second later……
Now my shirt is a shadow of itself, and I was asking more questions that I could answer in my head; why didn’t I take the other side? Couldn’t he have seen me? What impudence? Was he blind? How will I even get back to the office? And even then, what should I do to this man, should I kill him or just leave him alone? That generated another argument in my upper story, kill him, don’t kill him, kill him, don’t (like I could anyway *hiss).
So there I was o, looking like a pile of shit in the front of a potential dead man still thinking of what to do with him exactly. I was too angry, and killing him would have been the rational thing to do. Considering killing him, I was picturing all the techniques I have learned from Jet Li and Jackie Chan movies, and that just got me thinking again, having a gun would have made it a lot easier *laughs.
Nevertheless, I thank God I decided to unlearn all my Tai Chi skills and keep the man’s body intact; left to me, I would have detached his soul from his body.
But all that said, even if I could kill the screwy fella, would I have killed him? *hiss.
All the same, TGIF, wishing y’all a great weekend. Xoxo.