Kayode! Kayode!! Kayode!!!. He yelled. I was tired of his nonsense. This was the fifth consecutive day he had come to my apartment and his ranting though justified had frayed my nerves. I had exhausted every worthwhile excuse and my creative repertoire was depleted. Silence. Sweet silence. Silence was the way. I had shut the blinds and turned off the lights yester night. My apartment was empty; I hope he believed it was.
He wanted it. He wanted the rent. It had been months since I’d last paid. I did want to pay but working under the present administration in the state was torrid.
I was going to be late to school again today and the proprietress aka “The Stare” was going to give me that “look” again; the look was the perfect combination of disappointment, anger and frustration and that’s how Mrs. Adedara got her nickname.
Its 8:45am. Mr. Bashir is still outside waiting for the rent. Its 9:12am…..9:38am…..10:17am. . I brought out my “Hope” stash from the Noreos nylon under my bed. #9,350.00; counting it was relief, counting it was joy. I had toiled for it, begged here and there and become some what adept at fixing electrical equipments in my area. #10,650.00 more and the humiliation and self esteem bashing I got from Mr. Bashir would be over. He soon left.
An hour later I strolled into the staff room amidst giggles. My colleagues understood. Amaka said “the stare” had asked of me. This was bad, this was really bad. I didn’t have time for her wahala; my moral was sinking when Mr. Salami said they had bailed me out. Thank God, I was totally elated.
Ifedayo ran into the staff room, I hoped he came to remind of my period at 12:45pm. I was wrong. “The Stare’’ had requested for my presence at the gate. On my way there I heard voices. I heard his voice. Kayode! Kayode!! Kayode!!!
I stopped in my tracks. This was a dream. Bashir was definitely not shouting my name at the gate. I willed myself forward. I could feel “The Stare” staring at me. She venomously ordered me to deal with the problem and report immediately to her office.
Kayode! Kayode!! Kayode!!! He shouted repeatedly drawing stares from the students and my colleagues. Kayode pay me my money. I said pay me my money. Kayode! Kayode!! Kayode!!! Pay me my money now. A small crowd had gathered. I was on my knees pleading for leniency. Bashir didn’t stop. He reveled in power. Soon my fist interacted with his face.
The fight was nasty; I was fired by “The Stare”. It rained cats and dogs on my way back home. I met all my properties outside thoroughly soaked by the rain.
AUTHOR: Adah Udechukwu Joseph