A former work-mate Jay was giving me the low-down about something that happened to him recently.
A while back, he had attended an awesome Halloween party, and had decided to go as a traditional masquerade. Ingenious right? The last costume party I attended, I had gone dressed as a Navy Captain. I came away with a few girls’ numbers at the end of the night. Maybe, some mistook me for a rich former Chief of Naval Staff. My uniform did come stacked with my rank and many badges of honor. Ok, too ‘many’ information….
Jay brought the mask back home after the party, and hung it as a decoration on his room wall. It was a really grotesque mask – just imagine the alien’s face in the movie Predator. I chided him for hanging up the mask in his room, as it stuck out like a sore thumb, spoiling the overall décor of the place.
Fast forward, a few months later, he pulled this really hot chick when he met at a wedding in Ikoyi. They spoke on the phone for days, and then she promised to come visit him one Saturday.
Jay got the place ready for the lass’s visit. He tried to make the pad ‘condusive’.
He took out the sofa from the room, so that the girl would have to sit on the bed.
He turned down the thermostat on his split unit AC so that the place was very chilly, in case his female visitor required ‘warming’.
He ‘arranged’ rubbers at every nook and cranny of his pad, to be ready whenever or wherever it went down. He put one on the bedroom dresser, put another under one of the pillows, one on the window seal, another in his pocket, two behind the television unit.
He warned the gateman not to leave his post, to prevent a mix-up.
He did some push-up, pull-ups and bicep curls with really heavy weights. Then he showered, dressed up and sprayed a healthy dose of Pleasures for Men by Estee Lauder.
The girl finally came around 2pm (African time), wearing a really smart tank top, some skin-fitting jeans and some really nice shoes. Jay was like wow! Jay said that she had a figure like a palm-wine keg.
They chatted a bit, dug into some take-away that Jay had sent his house-boy for, and even watched a bit of the rom-com “Notting Hill”. By the time the part of the movie where Hugh Grant and Julia Robert’s characters climbed a wall into a garden came, Jay and his date had started snogging.
They were making out just fine, almost heading for a technical knock-out, when the girl looked up and noticed the mask.
Jay said that the way this girl flew out of his arms and bed was like a scene from Matrix where Keanu Reeves did a limbo type movement to dodge a bullet in slow motion.
Her voice trembling, she shreiked ‘What is that? Is that ojuju?”
Jay tried to explain calmly “Nah, love. It is just a simple Halloween mask.”
The girl was not convinced. She moved towards the door “What is a grotesque mask doing on your wall? What is it? There must be something wrong with you”
Jay tried to explain to this chick and allay her fears. She nor gree o. The die was cast – she even refused to finish the movie. After a while, she received a ‘phantom’ call from her bestie, and said she had to meet her cousin in Ogudu. She bounced out of the crib like she was running from something.
Jay was left with a bruised ego and the damn mask on the wall. He took it down from the wall, and hung it in his living room instead. Let it bother uninvited guests now instead. Like the landlord and his agents.
In Nigeria, people dey fear. And most tragedies are usually blamed on one’s perceived enemies. If a politician got caught in EFCC’s net for misappropriating public funds; he would usually blame it on perceived enemies who are ‘intimidated by his profile.’
A neighbor’s son got caught with stolen car parts. His ma threw herself on the floor, rolling as she cried ‘My enemies have finally gotten me. Mo ti ku o…”
And at that point, I felt like defending her so-called enemies. I could swear I never saw anyone else with her son, when he living it up, blowing money fast. Even his friends would have been weak.
There was a program on TV sometime recently where a guy said he had just recovered from an ailment. According to him, he had ‘stepped’ on poison which had been an entrapment by his ‘enemies’, and had fallen ill. And I am like, wait a Nigerian minute (which is long by the way if you add African time), which one is ‘step on poison’ again? I never knew people could actually ‘step’ on poison? I thought they just put it in your food or beer, when you stepped away briefly to the loo. Or is there Wi-fi or Bluetooth poison now? But it made me realize how Nigerians feared their enemies.
Sometimes in some quarters, if a person bought a new/used (or tokunboh or Belgium) automobile in Nigeria, family members would gather and make professions, pouring libations on the tires to ward off enemies.
May you trample over your foes with these big-ass 17 inch rims.
May you never ride shot-gun while your enemies are handling the steering wheel. If it is my Bentley, I don’t mind actually.
May you see your enemies in your rear-view and never with your head-lights.
May your enemies be forever in your boot, but never in your bonnet? Don’t say amen here o. Some Ferraris and Lambos have their engines in the trunk instead.
Someone even prayed: May you never go backwards as you drive this car. All well and good, but you still need to reverse out of this tight-ass parking lot after these prayers end.
At church you could see members of the congregation tapping away on their blackberry or catching 40 winks or scoping flesh lustfully, but as soon as the pastor starts prayers binding ad destroying enemies, everyone springs to attention with the chorus of a resounding amen. And why not; you enemies may park behind you on the church car park, and be no-where to be found after service ends to start with.
If every person has enemies, then that means everyone is somehow an enemy to someone right? Then who are the good people then? Am I someone’s enemy even though I wish no man any evil? Haba, na wetin? My take is that everyone who has a village must have enemies.
Think well. Your enemies checked your SSCE, NECO and JAMB results before you did. They are the ones you hid information from when you got a visa for Jand (even the 3 month one).Your enemies were the last to know when you were interviewing for that choice job, but were the first to know when you landed that lucrative contract. If there is a way to trace your facebook page visitors (like Hi-5 used to have, and Linked-In does), you would see that your enemies check on you 24/7.
If the enemy of my enemy is my friend, should I really be hating and cursing him too?
All these postulations and theories are giving me malaria, abeg. As I go to cool off with some tender cow-leg pepper soup (okay this too is hot), let me pray for each and every one of my dear readers as you begin the 2nd half of the year:
May your pain be champagne.
If you are Fanta Chapman just out of the fridge, your enemies would be Limca in a 23cl ‘solo’ bottle straight from the crate.
If you are a Mercedes ML 500 from a V.I. dealership, your enemies would be a Daewoo Racer old model (without AC) with a “For Sale” jerry-can on it.
If you are a Hollywood blockbuster starring Johnny Depp, your foes would be a Yoruba movie with wrong English subtitles and gold tooth alatikas.
If you are a Celebrity poker game on ESPN, your enemies would be a local game of Ludo with 2 of the red and green seeds missing and the glass broken.
If you are a packet of Chivita juice, your enemies would be an agbalumon seed spat on the ground.
If you are a Transformers (movie), your enemies would be NEPA transformers with the mercury missing.
* Just joking, but I wish you all well. God bless.