How do I even talk about this?
Mumsy no dey let me drink water keep cup.
‘Jones, when are you going to be like James?
Last week, he sent his mum goods.
The previous week, he sent his Dad a Jeep.
You are still here, eating my food.
Drinking the water I kept in the fridge.
After all the school, all the school fees.
Ordinary spoon, you haven’t bought for me.
I go, I go…time don dey go.
Na when I don go you go gimme money?’
‘Mum, I’m trying. God’s time is the best.’
‘Shut up, na now you go know how to preach.
Is that how I paid for ur school fees?
God’s time is the best, God’s time is the best.
You forget faith without work is dead.’
‘But I’m working na.’
‘Is it that thing you call work?
Sleep by 2, wake up by 4.
And nothing to show by end of the month.
Except to chop, chop and ask for more?’
Mum hissed and left, my head hissed as well;
boiling, headache. I need to chill I swear.
Straight to my room, earpiece in my ear.
Maybe a good song will take me far from here.
Two albums gone, my head still burning like hell.
Thinking of what I must have done wrong to deserve this torture I call life.
Is this what I deserve after my strife?
In school, I didn’t party or have an affair.
Only relationship I had was with my books.
Reading in night class to be the best.
To see the light before the end of the tunnel.
But I’m out the tunnel and darkness lingers everywhere.
Depression has become a part of me.
My mood swinging like kids are playing in me.
Mum screaming at me, Dad not talking to me.
Girlfriend? Well, she’s tired of me.
Three birthdays and 3 Valentines, I couldn’t get her a gift.
So she left, said she cannot wait for me.
She wants to make babies and start a family.
My salary na 30k and I’ll be 30 in a week.
So I no fit blame her, her shoe don dey pinch.
Me I’m just thinking, how do I make this green?
Surfing the Web, then a message came in.
reminding me I have just 20MB.
Ooh fuck! Another drop to my ocean of problems.
So, I stormed out of the house to meet one of my gee.
He just got back, was schooling overseas;
short course, a year or so and he came back with a Jeep.
He say na part-time job he take buy the ride.
‘Nigga, you gotta hook me up before I die here,’ I told him.
‘This life don tire me, help your guy abeg.’
As we kept on discussing, he gave me a number.
‘Call the person tell am say na King Kong brother.’
‘Yea, he go know wetin I dey talk.’
Called him two days later and we started to talk.
One month later, I’m at the airport.
3 months later, my Mum is waiting at the port.
2 Toyota spider and 3 Ford salon cars.
Everyone one is happy, I start receiving calls again.
‘When you go come visit, We don dey miss you.’
Nobody dey ask me how I get the cars so soon.
Maybe dem think say Malaysia government dey share motor.
Anyway, two years later I’m back, deported and broke.
With a long scar at the right of my torso.
Money gone, one kidney gone and innocence gone.
Once filled with hope, now back to where it begun.