Another Summer Day
Something to make you nostalgic
I got off the bus, humming to Kierra Sheard’s ‘Invisible’-beautiful song I thought, but not as beautiful as the weather. I loved summer, it made everyone bubbly and happy. Although, sometimes the heat became unbearable- well, not exactly; at least, not when compared to where I come from. I remember how I used to walk under that melting sun for about 15minutes almost every Saturday just to get Punch newspaper for my dad. Well, maybe there was something in it for me too.
Mama Caro’s puff-puff was the best; always hot and sweet. The few seconds I had to wait while Caro- her daughter wrapped it up into those black and yellow polythene bags was like eternity to me. I couldn’t wait to ‘devour’ it. In fact, the only reason I did not eat it on the road was because of those riff-raffs hanging around every corner of the streets. You know, the ‘sister, sister, is you am calling. My name is Chudi, what’s yours?’ yeah, those kind of boys. They are the same boys that are quick to make jest of you when you make the slightest mistakes. Reminds me of the day I fell face flat on the floor, as I walked home from my friend’s house.
I was wearing this pink tank top, black ¾ pants with the same shade of pink as my top taped to the rims of the pants. With my long black hair extensions tied back, I walked briskly, trying to go past unnoticed and as quickly as possible; but that wasn’t going happen. Just as I almost got Malam saka’s kiosk, I did not notice the pile of stones on the floor- the ones the little kids used as their goal post when playing football.
“Yeee.. hahaha! See our African queen for floor…”
You have no idea how embarrassed I felt. I don’t even know what hurt more, the bruises I sustained or the comments I heard them make. Thank God for Dolapo, my sister friend that was walking past just about then.
Dolapo, Dolapo, that girl.. hmm, I reserve my comment. Oh, who cares? I’m just going to say it. She’s got terrible MO (mouth odour). You could describe her as ‘drop-dead-gorgeous’, but once she speaks, everything changes. I know it’s more of a medical problem because she’s got white teeth, but still, that MO is baadd! We’ve tried talking to her about it, but she’s so defensive. And I’m reading her facebook status now ‘Husband-hunting mode activated’- good luck with that honey, but me thinks there are other issues you need to sort out first.
Talking about issues to be sorted out, I better call Damilare and let him know I can’t make it to Manchester this weekend. Ahh, he’s the true son of his father (like duh, always wondered why mum said that), he’s calling me already. “Hey Dee…”
Claim: Originally written by Nigerian Fiction Member 248 - Tomilola Lawal
Nigerian Fiction Title 107