TEST

Word count: 6010 words.

I was born in the toilet and handle like a smelling child. Many people

including my dad hated me in such a way that I couldn’t sit with them to

drink what was in their mind. He even told his relations that I was a witch

and enforce them not to talk to me and they stick. I never blame him but

I’ve always blame him for pregnanting my mum with his hurtful poison. Mum

always love me even though my mate said I was born with ogur and insisted

mum putting me in school. This created a strong depression between my hood

and I and things became worsen than before. Nobody ever dreamt offering me

a gift even when my birthday approached. Every extended members had been

convince by dad that a witch like me deserve nothing in life.

Unaware to mum, weren’t told Dad had gotten a wife on the street. And had

lied to the wife that mum and I are bad luck and bedraggled enemies. She hasn’t seen

dad new child whose phalanges, carpal and metatarsals is like the wrist of a lovely vampire and
the

face like the dung of an animal. The child had began

friending a mate child in the morning and in the night crumble with sadness.

I promise never to forgive him because of the sorrows and rumor’s he had

pasted on our faces. When I was born newly, when the plant and grasses traversing the air

haven’t grew on my ravish skin – dad dedicated me to a Saracen sculpture

and promise that he would never dump me on the waste even though others do.
But when the emblem of his royal wealth start dying down, he forge himself out of the cage and

let me soak in tears.

I know my tomorrow shall be better than today, the weeds that overlook my

name would oneday in a peace of blindness lean to shadows of their plants and will snooze round
my past and like Joseph, their eyes would

mourn and sob and I would stand like a king and the tears rolling down from

my cheek will pity their past.

When I told mum I was going to Papa’s new

house, she almost lock me inside the poo-room. Instead I heard from her

that we should visit her grandma in the village. Grandma is the cathedral who sheds butcheries
blood on firma. She had waited under the

juniper tree without seen us or witnessing a hand waving towards her joint.

Mr. Private had invented a taxi which the whole world are watching on the TV

and grandma interest is moved to the cinema where she can expert her

skills. I and mum had finally arrived and after phoning her all she could

say is to alerted us to wait under the juniper tree while she stroll like a pregnant woman from the
cinema

to meet us.

Mum fell down after some minute and grandma arrived shakily and

tremblingly. The catalyst ranging from her face hitted me like a nuclear

bomb and I sunk in tears. She was on the hospital bed and grandma on the

right-side praying deeply for her recovery and I was searching with eyes
where to gather help and money to retreat the doctors perspective. When I

heard the finest word from the doctor I almost collapse because I believe

nothing was impossible with God even though my face seems ratlike in other

men’s affair. I remembered a passage mum showed me at my five age-old which

boost and encourage me even when eerie things try to invade my life. I

remember her saying, “My son hold firm your trust in God and when ever

you’re held with storms, call unto maker”. And the song she taught me was

like a piece of sugar added to a sip tea to produce a flavor

“ I’ll put you in front. In front of my situation. You are all that matters. You are all that matters.
I’ll make room for two, you and I Jesus. You are all that matters. You are all that matters “

I became

strong but, my grandma’s face told me all was not fine. The doctor knew if

I had stayed inside my mother’s pain;

brightened by the hurts of the day when he held grandma’s fist and told

her not to cry but to take fate. I would’ve fainted and likely to join the

battalions heading to Jericodian furnace in sunburst.

Mum and I had earlier met dad with his new wife on a bar, chopping onions

and garlic but she had silently peep off without signaling him. His wife,

Mata, the daughter of Baka — a woman whose job is to kill twins and

sacrifice it to blindly gods of death dance Had seen us but wandering where we’ve met.

We have met once in a mall when she bark on her ex-husband, telling him to
pack out of her life. Mum and I were the one to adjust her pains after

listening to a gospel song played by Nathaniel bassey. The man wanted

slapping her but because mum interrupted, the man became cool and sweet

like drink. He later explain to mum that she is a wolf-dancer. And if he

had known earlier he wouldn’t have married her, that her presence in his

house had curated a dirty slap to his relations. He even curtail that she

is lackadaisical and unable to cater food for the family.

Mum wanted going back after we had left the bar to warn her to stay away

from her harshest husband but unfortunately dad presence was a shock to her.

The first day I

unravel this world to mum, she doubted and even warn me against the

prediction. I kept silent and maintain a mind your business character because I didn’t

want her anger to split round my tone like music. I wanted us to be

familiar with ourselves and continued in a loving companionship. I love mum and I was ready to
fight for her because many believed she is like a trouble wrapped chrysalis.

I was surprise to see Dad in the hospital begging mum to wake up and

promising to do whatever she requested of. Grandma who sat by, heard that

clumsy voice and was strangulated and her feet nailed down and her right hand muffled by the
long sleeve shirt. His wife with the baby had stood for a

while and were planning to get home as earlier as five noon. Suddenly the

doctor walk in and whispered to dad’s ear that mum is nowhere to be found.
The doctor had no choice ever when he met Mata. She was the woman who burn

his first daughter and stole his money to a strange town and later phone

him to say, she is a time bomber. Nobody knew the doctor had been staring at

Mata from whence she bounce into the hospital with dad flirting hands on

her shoulder. And the doctor had secretly contacted police officers who

were on the road driving down the hospital. Dad collapse because he was

becoming fifty and the blessings he had gotten from mum left him empty when

he denied the covenant. Mata saw the corpse and was afraid to approach the

doctor because her conscience have blamed her of her deeds.

She wanted running when the police officers handicapped her and she vomited

everything she had stolen from humans including dad.

At home, I found uncle Usuji lying down on our passage with a wrapper blade tied

round his body. His wife had given birth to a child and the whole world

must know about it. He has imbibed the culture of Yoruba Janitor which

start by spreading powder on colonies and rubbing it inside their palm for

ornament. He wasn’t aware for eight months now, mum was under a cobweb. He

wanted her to assist him get Orubo from the market. Orubo was a native

powder used whenever a woman delivers a child. It was like maybe I

should help out but, mum warn me against. . Inside the

food room was plenty garri, fufu and semovita and edikani-ikon soup. I didn’t tend to stop him
from entering our food room and getting anything I value. He just went

inside and after cutting garri all I could hear was that, ‘come and put soup

for me. If I wanted to deafen myself as I normally do. If I wanted to lacerate my lips with deep
sanguine. If I wanted to force a rug needle into my narrow nose. If I wanted to push a porcupine
quill into my quaint and hazel eyes. If I wanted to lift my tongue and tie it, with a rope from a
tethered goat [Mukhtarr Mustapha], Uncle Usuji must had

lick the sauce on the ground. I would’ve ensure everything he did to me, he

repaid it in double-fold.

Uncle Usuji was eating as if someone was dragging the food with him,

meanwhile, he was hungry; and the only way to foam his face like an hungry

man was to get my part done in his life. However, within some hours, mum

and dad hitted our door and because of the rumors circulating round the

terrafirma that mum and dad are dead, I became scared, and the more their

voice alarm, the more my blood develop into a hot-temper blood. I pity

uncle Usuji who wanted to prove holiness – open the door and let the

twins mate comes in. Later, my eyes open and everything unreal became

natural. Dad cuddle and peck my soft cheek and when he held my hands to

prove his realness, mum was not exempted, she cuddle me with joy and both

of us smiled in the realm of laughter and light. I took a silken cloth an mopped their brows.

Mum had wanted to explain what make the doctor whisper to dad’s ear and

grandma’s ear that mum is nowhere to be found. He knew that, that must’ve been

the only way to tackle mum problem and rehabilitate joy into our family.

And the woman who claimed to have marry dad within the spaces, was sentence
to fifty years imprisonment and countingly before she survives out of such

bond, there would be deduction in her shape. After hearing this piece of

prose dramatically arrayed by mum and the doctor, My Dad remember that Mata

was using charm to control him and not really Akape.

Uncle Usuji have gotten the Orubo. Mum gave it to him. She had bought it

many years ago and had hid it inside the ward.

At age twelve mum and dad heard from a friend of mine whose mouth running

like a stormy flood that I was following girls around the street and have

intended to travel with them to a nearby Beach in Benin. They took me to a

secondary school and registered me, warning the principal to set eyes on me

and by the time I grew eighteen, all those dirty girls on the street

neglected me because they saw a radiant heat on me. My teacher loved me and

was ready to sacrifice herself on my behalf. She has helped many student

own scholarship without contributing money. Yesterday when she came to my

house, she told my parent I’m her best and need to attend the forthcoming

revivification scholarship program. My parents love that idea but finding

difficile to release me even for a dime. Because they know what I’m capable

of doing.

Two years later, my parents enrolled me in West African Examination Council

and unluckily was expecting my performance to be highly polished and didn’t

work out fine. Mr. Ugo had invited me for his guest parties at Victoria

Island and I can’t afford to miss it. Even though the date clash with my
Examination date, I took a different means and flied to that distance. Mr.

Ugo had been a close-friend since I entered the secondary school. Although

he does what I don’t imitate. He does things like smoking marijuana and

inhaling Igbo. I loved him because whenever I’m thirsty he filled me with

physical victuals. That day I could remember we didn’t sleep, at South

Africa banquet, we pose and snap million pictures with heavy babes and xxx Babylonian who
didn’t want us to buy them a night but enjoy the pink lips

that ooze out of us. I was busy when the afro-green mambas handcuff us like

thieves over the Xenophobic massacre that occur between our nation and them.

When I could realize myself, Ugo was down and the gun on his hand survive.

I was inbuilt in the prison and through that satellite the world viewed my

face and my parents saw how they laid Forces on me, they forbid it was me.

I slept in the prison, eight years two month without a cup of tea wetting

my throat and someone like friend buying me pizza.

When I was release and return to Nigeria as an illegal immigrants, mum and

dad blackmail me. Use a boy who was my younger to devalue my potential

because I had loss what I’ve suppose to cherish. Papa cry and cry as if I

was in dungeon and ended up paying me visit to the dark I was. I had missed

it all. People use to say when you are entice by perpetrators like Ugo you

should never consent, instead should say I don’t know you even if we’re

friends. Many young people like me have been swallowed and consumed in

murky darkness of despondency and I can’t tell where their brass soul lies.
If I knew earlier I would have hated my friends and make happy my parent. I would have watch
my actions listless along the streets, sleeping at the foot of the hills, I would have wrapped
myself and hid it from the babel of distractions, from the crowding Stony faces of Ugo partners. I
would have told late Ugo to let me free and now things are no longer the

same. My dad has rejected me because of those foolish friends who had

polluted my heart and the so-called xenophobic attacks that has emptied

lives.

I’m blaming myself for all wrong doing and I’m praying, believing

God touches my dad’s reference point and configure their minds; that I may be

acceptable.

My mum is crying where ever she is because her conscience is telling her I’m not

save and she is kneeling before dad asking for mercy and forgiveness

towards my false deed. I know no matter how spoil a child is, there’s hope

for the morrow.

I was on bed snoring like a dreamable virgin when I receive a call

from dad. He said I should come home. Yeah! God has really answered my

prayers. The next day I came home, dad and mum discussing with Mrs. USA who

had planted a seed in their life because her daughter was up-age and

haven’t seen a man for marriage. She wanted me to lay hold on her so we both

can be one-accord. My parents accepted me with sweet mouth because Mrs. USA
had stone them with money. They said I should get inside and redress

myself, pack my luggage and get ready to follow Mrs. USA to Canada.

Happily, jumping like a first-time Canadian. I shook my head and saluted my

parent over and over again. But before I left, my mum stick a word in my

heart which I’ll never forget. She said I should take care of Alicia, the

girl I’m heading to marry. And I promise I must stick to every cherishable

advice.

Alicia was waiting for me with her high-classic guards; Her mother told me

everything about her and how lovey she is and cute. In addition, Her guards

walk down to where our vehicle had halted an showed me the way to meet her.

Already her mum had told her from phone that I’m the president first son

and she believe and even when she saw my picture she couldn’t doubt. I had

the skin of the president son and my face look alike.

There was a problem after two years of our marriage, the file was unseal

and every eyes open widely to know I wasn’t a president son. My Alicia was

watching MTV when the broadcasters announced the death of Ura, the

president son, who died during a flight to India for kaftan festival. Her

mother couldn’t ease the pests even as she mobilize elite men and women to

cast me out. I was crying again. Again in a strange girl-world. And I was

questioning myself “ Is this all what life has to offer?”. From Grace to

Grass.

I quickly pack my weed out of the house, took a flight to my citizenship

country. Meanwhile, Mrs. USA has contacted my parents from home to amicably
say sorry for the maltreatment and nonchalant nature’s displayed by her

daughter. My parent are soft but hardly shyless. When I arrived, they

immovably fix me in a strand, and ask me different questions which terms to

unseal the files of love. I could say nothing because to every magic there

is an expiring date. Maybe that was how life was to disgrace me. My parent

were absolutely nervous at my requital and the way I answered them almost

blast my face. They remember I’m their only son and the best must be done

to retrieve my dream.

We were like trouble shooters in the house. Hot and tempered. Our neighbors

notice us as cat and dog especially when dad try to erase the mistakes he

has made before. He had been a marine engineer working in Shell company. He

had been a sheep clothe to his brothers and sisters who were helpless and

depended on him for love. He had no choice than to sacrifice his sacrifice

for them but years past, he has been crying because nobody remembered him.

His youngest sister grew up and became Zimbabwe First Lady without paying

Visa to visit him. Mum also had a family at Gambia and

Tokyo. When they were in Nigeria, Mum handle them like a father and I,

mother. She loves her three younger sister: Wayo, Fakery and Smart

,Without political dominance, unfair right, racial segregation. But today

I’m complaining where is the files of love. Where has the enemy navigated

them to and what has stolen them from us.

They say Change is constant and it is a way of rebuilding the cracks world.
Before in Era, dad use to call me warrior. And sometimes seek solution from

me. But now microorganism has invaded his life that my prayer is an

outright failures. He doesn’t even want to see me as his son: He said I

don’t heed to instruction, that my brain is stubborn and evacuated.

My mum wanted to give me second chance to get back to school but dad

habitually stand-upon. He wanted me to learn my lesson and correct my

mistakes. The next day I couldn’t sleep-and-eat three day meal as usual, I

had to find some kobo on the street. I serve as an apprentice for two years

before I became a fashion designer and owned my own small-firm, where

thousands of fashion designers are employed and paid regularly.

Mum shouted my name from the bathroom where she was and told me that Alicia

is coming to our house tomorrow. “How can she come to the house of a

beast?”. I said silently and went for mum’s errand. I didn’t want to see

her again because she has been a reason my dream has been melting down.

Mrs. USA came with her daughter to beg and beg me to accept her flabbergasted apology. I
haven’t

told mum, Uru, a garri seller is carrying my pregnancy and soon and very

soon we are going to wed. After I exposed my secret, everyone marvel but

that was the truth. Tell the truth and it shall set you free. Again, Alicia

is like proving to me that she love me with her heart because I haven’t

seen her kneel before me to shed crocodile tears. Her new-husband whom she

found loving because of the condom he uses to rape her was disown, because

of misunderstanding. She said, the man use to punch her like bag of cement
and hinders her from freedom. When my mother heard this, she couldn’t cry,

she cried as if someone paid her to cry. When I finally accepted to remarry

her again, Uru call me and apologize. I didn’t understand why she did that,

but later found out that she had miscarriage.

We became one and one again.

Kwesi Brew said “We have come to the cross roads. And I must either leave or come with you. I
lingered over the choice. But in the darkness of my doubts, you lifted the lamp of love and I saw
in your face the road that I should take”.

Two years later, Mrs. USA was up-age, and in

any moment she would kiss the dust. She needed Grandchild and contemplated

of me not functioning as a man positively. My parents became incensed and almost to the point
of retaining pile of garbage in their heart. This fight was beyond my control and I recall the date
Pastor Hension invited me for his groundnut feast at Sherlund Frame hall. Many souls were
empowered and captivating. Barriers and walls have been broken and Great was God in his
fullness. I told my wife about the man of God. The next day after our breakfast we travel to
Sherlund Frame hall and met Pastor Hension and his wife sipping at the coffee. My wife and I
began to curtail our problem to them. We believe that as soon as the man of God lay hands on us,
barrenness would disappear. After rendering our petition to him, he asked us to kneel down and
after the prayer, we got home. Mrs. USA came again, hoping to see us with child and when she
couldn’t, she enforce us to join her to the village. I didn’t want to go because I was sure, I’m not
God that mold children. My wife was that stubborn, she heed against my instruction and in my
absence she join Mama to the village where they met Papa karika, the native juju who solicited
that before I eat tonight, the sugary powder given to them should be injected into my food and
that night, there was an accidental occurrency which call for the attention of my colleagues. My
transportation ship sailing through China capsized and all my goods and products wasted.
National agency for Cargo Ship Transportation Control (NACSTC) and some government
insurance warders came to my office and promise to replace the wasted goods and properties
with a million dollar. Actually this was awesome and awesome. I must had return home to tell
God thank you even though it wasn’t my heart desire. I got home and Alicia was on floor
shivering like an half-life being. Her hand was pointing at a bottle which was beside her mama’s
corpse. I asked her what’s wrong and all she could say was to demonstratively point at a bottle
containing a liquid and when I scent through it had the fragrance of an acid. Native acid. She
said. Given to us by Papa Karika. Oh! I couldn’t defend myself because that condition was
beyond comparison. I call the doctor and immediately she was in the hospital taking drib into the
dying vein. “Your vein must live”. I was there praying and declaring good things concerning her
and our future. And fortunately, she coughed. It touches me and awake my sensors.

Joseph kariuki said “ Come away, my love, from streets where mankind eyes divide, and show
windows reflect our difference. In the shelter of my faithful room rest. There, safe from opinions,
being behind myself, I can see only you; And in my dark eyes your grey will dissolve. The
candlelight throws two dark shadows on the wall which merge into one as I close beside you.
When at last the lights are out. And I feel your hand in mine. Two human breaths join in one.
And the piano weaves its unchallenged harmony”.

Immediately, the doctor came to me and said, your wife is alive. “ Praise God; I shouted and
shouted until an incomer asked me what happen and I relied on God. When she was alive she
was hoping to have cross the bridge of death with her mum but her presence in life is a shock to
her. ”Papa had taken my mama’s life”. She cried audibly in a soft tones and leaned on my lap. I
began to Pat her like a baby and still believe her sleep is not what I think. She had crossed the
bridge of death and mama had laid hold on her begging her not to look back and promising her
that if she heed, all things are possible in her name. I was seen her body vibrating and vibrating
that the blanket of air was like oozing out of her body. I didn’t know God wanted to examined
my life to see if I stick firm to the covenant we took when the golden ring was initiated into our
phalanges. I love my wife more than any earthly visual. And I was ready not to abandon her but
to clothe her with spiritual fruit.
John Pepper Clark said “ What time of night it is, I do not know. Except that like some fish doped
out of the deep. I have bobbed up bellywise from stream of sleep and no cocks crow. It is
drumming hard here and I suppose everywhere droning with insistent ardour upon our roof
thatch shed. And thro' sheaves slit open, to lightning and rafters. I cannot quite make out over
head, Great water drops are dribbling, falling like orange or mango. Fruits showered forth in
the wind or perhaps I should say so, much like beads I could in prayer tell them on string as they
break. In wooden bowls and earthenware, mother is busy now deploying about our roomlet and
floor. Although it is so dark, I know her practised step as she moves her bins, bags and vats out
of the run of water that like ants filing out of the wood will scatter and gain possession of the
floor. Do not tremble then But turn, brothers, turn upon your side of the loosening mats to where
the others lie. We have drunk tonight of a spell deeper than the owl’s or bat’s that wet of wings
may not fly bedraggled up on the iroko, they stand emptied of hearts, and therefore will not stir,
no, not even at dawn for then they must scurry in to hide. So let us roll over on our back and
again roll to the beat of drumming all over the land and under its ample soothing hand joined to
that of the sea, we will settle to sleep of the innocent and free. But be heal my darling…

I was in the hospital when doctor kash unveil the dead of Alicia to me. Painful and sluggish.
I’ve to return home and see my lovey parents who were praying fervently for God to revived me
and rechange the minds of my enemies.

They were incensed and unhappy because they have seen Okechukwu, the fish boy who invented
a match-plane. We were both in class two when we were young. Our teacher use to tell us to read
our books and make quick effort to implant the world with our vision. He use to be the first to
worm his book and every us hid on the field kicking bulletin balls. He use to visit my house and
my parent use to bark him out like dog which often humiliate me and I had to warn him to escape
from my parent. Today he is a billionaire. He had invented a match-plane and the world are
waiting for him.
Mama pointed him to me on the TV and said “ Is this not your mate making sweet money?”. I
wanted to reply but I calmed my temperament and allowed her speech to be withered away like
exhaust fumes.

Taban Lo Liyong said “ Never talk of right and wrong to me, nor of left and right when I’m near.
We stand on a facet of iceberg, left is not right. Our heads Pierce up and our feet nail us down.
Spectacles can’t make us see, down below is quite tartarian. What shall we name what we
cannot see or know? The hand had five fingers and they were equally short but one finger out of
spite decided to add an inch to raise him above Dickenharry. The others, out of aggrandizement
limited likewise, the competition no sooner begun than ever will end. One finger added more
breadth than height and another shrunk out of former size in order to show them what can be
achieved with a little trying. This Hunter was my neighbor. Oneday he went to wash in the river.
While putting his trousers on, he failed to balance steadily on the right foot and his left foot
muffled by the trouser leg, stumbled into the muddy water. Realizing that the trousers had not
drunk water for a long time and therefore were naturally thirsty. He hold them to drink away to
their heart’s content. With this resolution made my Hunter friend sat down in the muddy water
whereupon the trousers we’re mighty glad, and drank water to saturation.

She look up to me and said again “ Is this not your mate making sweet money?”. I dumb-ache
myself and walk out. Mama left her palp on the dinning table and pursue me, I ran until I fell into
a deep drainage system where Papa had created for his demonic nuisance. Mama saw me and
laugh, pointing at Iji, our sculpted eaglet. I almost fell sick due to how unclean the drainage
system was; dirty and stinky. Papa came back and try to convince him of mama’s miracle, dad
instead slapped me recapping the advert of Okechukwu on the television. I endured and in night
I walk through our corridor leading to an incline fence where I can jump-through. Mama came to
my room and discovered I wasn’t there, she shouted and the whole neighborhood appeared. I
stood at an extreme watching their reaction which led to nothing. When mama saw me the next
morning, she alerted the neighborhood and when they were innumerable, she enunciated that I
was lost but now I’m found.
Hence, I was constrain and hindered from travelling to Canada to take charge of Alicia’s
inheritance. Unaware, Papa has bought a woman from the nearest tribe that share boundary with
ours and had showed to mum, whom she accepted and oblige me to marry her.

‘Marriage is not a war with tattered dirty rags falling off their shaven heads. It is a streamside
exchange.'

There was huge conflict existing in our life as long as that so-called marriage was concern. I
didn’t yield to their prospective. I knew all they wanted was a grandchild which was too heavy
for me.

'I hear a lapping child calling clamorously! I hear it coming through: invoking the ghost of a
womb'. I can’t reproduce……hehehehe

They had forgotten they were the people who enforce me to marry Alicia.

'Alicia is that, Alicia is this. She is a white girl and citizen of Norma'..

Now Alicia is dead, they have started again. I can’t bare this reproach anymore. The load is too
much on me. I neglected my bedroom because she was force to sleep with me on the same bed,
and instead prefer sleeping in a sty where pig sleeps.

Because of this mum change my room and replace pigsty as mine.

'How can I sleep in a pig shade? I’m not pig even though I belong to an animal kingdom
~Animalia’.

I watch them eat and jubilate while I decay in hunger. I watch Papa laugh and laugh in a bitter
way that annoys a child and I slumber in impurity. My hearts snooze like a warning bird and my
face remodel to an uncouth and scolding widow but my parent never tend to ask. All they want is
grandchild. They want me to do magic and forget it was through magic Mrs. USA lost her life.
'Life is expensive to buy in the market, but only strong hands manage to embezzle with hard
means. Starving the little masses…..'

My secretary call me, two weeks ago, when I was struggling to quench the fire burning within
me. I couldn’t pick because mum and dad were after my joy: For a moment I could be hearing
rhythmic voices screaming me to scavengers and carrion animals. And each time I try to turn up,
both will send me on firewood. I wasn’t a disobedient child that would echo the world about me.
Right from my birth, I had always been submissive both to my parents and the real-me. I never
doubt like Thomas even when I see myself a looser. I always accept defeat and agree I was a
defaulter.

There were many animals in the forest but when they heard our footfalls they hid and when we
arrived, mama and papa receive an alert that we are dead. It wasn’t real but I organize them to
mold it. I wanted to shock them and see what their reaction would be. The next day, my parents
and the awesome delegate located our ambush zone and saw us alive. Imagine, the reaction of
my parents astonished my companies. My mum and dad cuddle me and even promise the
delegate never to despise me again. I was happy not knowing their intention was to lock me
inside the shed until my mind is made-up to marry shadow. It wasn’t up to two years aftermath
the sudden death of my wife, and it hasn’t gotten to my turn to remarrying. I recap the saying of
an old man which says “ with money, all things are possible “. I didn’t believe when a friend of
mine quote this in his birthday, I thought he was some kind of fools. And now, my eyes have
seen what a wealthy man cannot see. That money is the bedrock of evil and had cage many souls
in dungeon.

I told myself for as long as I’m alive, no marriage no child. My parents organize a comedy show
and invited dbanj, P-Square, timaya, 2face idibia, Olamide, wizkid and Phyno. They invited me
aswell and I went, after every session, they announce to the public that Shadow is my wife. God
forbid! I rejected it and even when they ordered her to kiss me, I fell to the ground and the
invitees thought I was faint. They wanted to carry me to crime-hospital where my memory would
be deactivated, and since I was peeping with half-eye; immediately they approach me I got up
quick and fast, plunge into the nearby river leading to Igwe estate and survived. My parents sent
some divers to find me but I was gone, into a strange man country.

My parents took my picture to the studio and my face was publish on the media. But since I was
a strange man, Neighbors in Igwe estate find it difficult to relate my whereabout to police.

Two years later, I met Alicia on the way to the office and she told me all that has happen. She
said, that after an empty corpse was buried behalf, God intervene and she was clothed in a new
blanket of air that enables her breathe till date. I couldn’t believe but I later believe after she
embraced me.