ONE DAY I WILL WRITE ABOUT THIS PLACE.
I sat by the window side of the old eighteen seater bus, that gently took me out of my childhood, I watched in sweet agony how my present slowly became history.
Things started to fall apart not today but some years back when my friends had a change in identity, Sani became Sanzee, his trousers no longer fitted his waist but his thighs now, Tope now became eccentric placing much priority on clothes and shoes, Always smiling when the girls came calling and saying
"Topizzy is an handsome guy" They would hug him making his body spread with fire of lust and his eyes glows with admiration.
Chinonso became chinobest having this desire and passion to flaunt teachers orders and fight hapless people.
I watched from my small enclave and my own world, I watched how our dreams disappeared, I watched how the books we loved fizzle away like the petrol spirit. Those years when we competed to have the highest score in test and be the best pupil in school slowly fly into oblivion.
"I want to become a lawyer"
" when I grow up I'd become a doctor" gently changed into
" By tomorrow I'd toast that girl"
"You know that girl is dying for me"
" I will beat that teacher if he try me again"
********
I stare at the rusted zinc and watched how those silver zinc have turn brown, the driver in his old torn white kaftan started the old bus which jerk, then it grumbled and fumbled into live.
Some times I'd hike down the street and see my friends and I'd hail their names cheerfully but they'd turn with this exaggerated hubris and coldly say
"How far Prof" twas insipid and flavourless, those exurberrance in their voice tends to wither at the sight of me.
But things became bad when I had a surprise visit, Tope had his head bended towards the cold soak earth, the cold that engulf our neck of the woods had no effect on his body, beside him stode Shade, a dark brown girl with hips like that of an ijebu woman who had given birth to five children, I've always seen him holding her waist and brushing his lips against hers passionately like newly wedded couple.
" Prof help me na" his eyes showed a hapless boy whose mother would beat when he revealed his wrong.
"how???" I asked not knowing what to say, the words he wanted my mouth to air was the safe side of an abortion, but I won't say it.
"Tell your mother about it" I counseled..
He looked at me, I pitied him, I pity his stained ego while he stood up and gently walked away, Shade tried holding his hands but his hands never bonded with hers. She stare at me and surprise filled her face.
Her face no longer glitters with beauty nor the lipstick that made the boys yelled in sycophantic seductive praise.
"You've got sexy lips" she'd blush hiding a shaded pride
The lips gently gave way while she grunted and gently spat out lumps of stuffed sticky waters from her mouth, things will never remain the same because time changes yesterday.
(C) AZI OLIVER ATSEN
I sat by the window side of the old eighteen seater bus, that gently took me out of my childhood, I watched in sweet agony how my present slowly became history.
Things started to fall apart not today but some years back when my friends had a change in identity, Sani became Sanzee, his trousers no longer fitted his waist but his thighs now, Tope now became eccentric placing much priority on clothes and shoes, Always smiling when the girls came calling and saying
"Topizzy is an handsome guy" They would hug him making his body spread with fire of lust and his eyes glows with admiration.
Chinonso became chinobest having this desire and passion to flaunt teachers orders and fight hapless people.
I watched from my small enclave and my own world, I watched how our dreams disappeared, I watched how the books we loved fizzle away like the petrol spirit. Those years when we competed to have the highest score in test and be the best pupil in school slowly fly into oblivion.
"I want to become a lawyer"
" when I grow up I'd become a doctor" gently changed into
" By tomorrow I'd toast that girl"
"You know that girl is dying for me"
" I will beat that teacher if he try me again"
********
I stare at the rusted zinc and watched how those silver zinc have turn brown, the driver in his old torn white kaftan started the old bus which jerk, then it grumbled and fumbled into live.
Some times I'd hike down the street and see my friends and I'd hail their names cheerfully but they'd turn with this exaggerated hubris and coldly say
"How far Prof" twas insipid and flavourless, those exurberrance in their voice tends to wither at the sight of me.
But things became bad when I had a surprise visit, Tope had his head bended towards the cold soak earth, the cold that engulf our neck of the woods had no effect on his body, beside him stode Shade, a dark brown girl with hips like that of an ijebu woman who had given birth to five children, I've always seen him holding her waist and brushing his lips against hers passionately like newly wedded couple.
" Prof help me na" his eyes showed a hapless boy whose mother would beat when he revealed his wrong.
"how???" I asked not knowing what to say, the words he wanted my mouth to air was the safe side of an abortion, but I won't say it.
"Tell your mother about it" I counseled..
He looked at me, I pitied him, I pity his stained ego while he stood up and gently walked away, Shade tried holding his hands but his hands never bonded with hers. She stare at me and surprise filled her face.
Her face no longer glitters with beauty nor the lipstick that made the boys yelled in sycophantic seductive praise.
"You've got sexy lips" she'd blush hiding a shaded pride
The lips gently gave way while she grunted and gently spat out lumps of stuffed sticky waters from her mouth, things will never remain the same because time changes yesterday.
(C) AZI OLIVER ATSEN
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