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  • Walt Shakes

    Walt Shakes

    Walter Ude (@Walt_Shakes) is an award-winning Nigerian writer, poet and veteran blogger. He is a lover of the written word. the faint whiff of nature, the flashing vista of movies, the warmth of companionship and the happy sound of laughter. He blogs at mymindsnaps.wordpress.com.

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CLOSE AFFAIR (The B.O. Okoji Experiences: Episode 8)

It had being a crazy hectic week, a week hose end served as the end of the month as well. The Thursday and Friday were declared a public holidays. As such, Wednesday was the last working day of the month. I had everything I was going to do during the long holiday all penned down in a list. Most people I knew were travelling out of Lagos, and I needed the change of environment too. Somewhere out of the hustle and noisy bustle of the city that never sleeps would do just fine. My choice of a change of environment? The abode of a colleague in Ikorodu.

We closed early from work on Wednesday; we wanted an early start in order to evade the crazy Ikorodu traffic that was already brewing. We got to Ijede Ikorodu a little after 6pm. My colleague’s home was in a massive compound littered with blocks and rods with an obvious sign of a huge maisonette structure under construction; behind it was a sprawling bungalow with four bedrooms all in the same compound. A very low fence secured the property. Since his parents relocated to Abuja, Lanre (my colleague) shared the bungalow with his relations, and every other cousin who dropped in for the occasional weekend. And for this particular holiday, the environment was teeming with able-bodied young men, all of them bare-chested and clad in boxer shorts, lounging about as we walked in with our bags.

It wasn’t long before we were pooling resources to stock the generator with sufficient fuel. One of the guys went out to purchase the fuel, and by 7pm, I was tasked to put the generator on, filling it with enough fuel to last till the next morning. By this time, the apartment was filling up with the ribald noise of boys gradually riding a high on vodka and tobacco. There were those telling jokes, and an audience laughing, and some others had settled in to a game of scrabble and cards. The stage was set for a long night, and a fog of cigarette smoke was starting to hang thick in the parlour.

The entire atmosphere wasn’t what I’d bargained for. This wasn’t the peaceful weekend away from the bustle of the city that I’d envisioned. And all the smoking – I was asthmatic, and I left the parlour because the smoke had started to disturb me. Besides, I had forgotten my inhaler at the office. Feeling slightly frazzled, I went into the kitchen, idly wondering what I could rustle up. But the sight of the cooking area filled me with dismay. It was riddled with dishes and utensils begging to be washed, and there was a stale smell oozing from somewhere, perhaps from the overflowing dustbin. Or perhaps it was a smell that had accrued over whatever amount of time someone last cleaned the kitchen. I mean, properly cleaned. The entire house had this faint air of dishabille that made me slightly uncomfortable. I had done my best to keep the abandoned guest room with no bulb – which was my quarters for the weekend – habitable.

I decided to call it a night early. With the light from my Nokia torch to show me the way, I fished out my rack of CDs, and slotted into the CD player Lanre had lent me one of Joe’s classics. And then, I laid down to give in to the soothing bluesy touch of the music. I must have dozed off, because I found myself rising up from the unconsciousness of slumber into a mugginess in the room. The music had stopped playing. I reached for my Nokia, thinking something was wrong with the player. Then I noticed it was hot in the room because the fan had stopped blowing. I felt a flash of irritation. Why had they turned off the generator? I was spreading my hands, still searching for wherever my Nokia had dropped off to, when the fan creaked back to live, and a swath of light from the corridor sliced into the darkened room through the partially open door. It seemed PHCN had brought light, because I could not hear the faint thrum of the generator.

I was leaning forward to turn my music back on when I heard it. TWAT! It was a thunderous slap. I flinched, even though the blow hadn’t been dealt me. The slap was followed by a roaring grumble: “Where una keep the money?!”

SAWAAM! Another slap.

I suddenly felt a score of goose bumps pop up on my body like popcorn machine spouting the candy.

“Una think say na joke we dey joke? See the whole drink wey una don gazzump, una still get mind talk say no money…!”

Getting stealthily to my feet, I tiptoed to the door and peeked out through the opening. I could see two young men – young boys actually, they couldn’t be older than early twenties – with torches, one was armed with a machete and the other clenched what looked like a locally-made pistol.

“Una dey enjoy abi?” One of them kicked at one of Lanre’s friends; that one was sprawled on the floor along with two others, obviously inebriated, since they’d been on the bottle since early evening. Lanre and Uzo were sober and muttering amongst themselves, while rubbing at their eyes with their hands. I could feel peppery darts hitting my eyes; it seemed as though the crooks had first attacked with tear gas. Someone pounded on the door, and the one armed with the machete opened it to let in a third accomplice. My Gawd!

Fuelled by fear, and feeling adrenaline suddenly pounding through my veins, I scanned the room quickly in the dark looking for what to use as a weapon to defend myself in case I was discovered. I could come up with nothing. I grabbed the standing fan beside the bed, and was pondering my next move when I heard another slap, followed by Lanre’s shout of pain. “Money dey inside that room o!” he yelled.

“Oya, Yellow, carry am go search the room bring the money sharpaly,” one of the crooks commanded. “Make we tidy this weeree dem wey done high,” he continued, instructing the other fellow. I quickly ducked behind the door as Uzo pushed it open. He tried the switch. Of course nothing happened.

“No light o,” he grumbled at whoever was with him.

“Agile!” The crook with him yelled back at the parlour. “The guy no dey cooperate o! Bring ya torch come o, no light for the room sef. Carry that other one enter here make we tidy them.”

“I dey come, make I lock these idiots for toilet.”

Several moments later, Lanre was shoved into the room to meet Uzo on his knees. From my hideout, I could hear heavy breathing, and through the joint that hinged the door to the wall, I could see the crook toting the gun slouched against the doorway. I knew the other two were in the room with Lanre and Uzo.

“Oya, where the money dey? Talk before we go begin wound person now! Una don enjoy finish, abi? Give us the money sharp-sharp!”

Hiding behind the door, I suddenly felt a shift in the emotions roiling inside me. Where once I felt fear, I suddenly started getting angry. How dare these vagabonds come in here and try to ruin the beginning of what I expected to be a relaxing holiday! How dare they! I felt my anger start a slow boil inside me, simmering faster with each thought, and each time I heard them scream at my friends. Suddenly my brain snapped, and with my full strength, I shoved forward, pushing the door in front of me and savagely slamming it against the guy by the door. There was a loud shriek of pain, followed by the sharp crack of gunshot. I must have broken something on his body with the force of the slamming door. I didn’t pause to find out. Grabbing the fan, I was already swinging round at the other two who were momentarily nonplussed by my sudden presence. I brought the fan down against the head of the one with the machete. He choked out a cry as he toppled over, and the other one had just lifted his club to attack me when Lanre snatched at the speaker of the CD player and sent it flying at his head. The object knocked him hard at the back of his head and he fell forward. I made a dash for the gun-toting leader who was writhing in pain in the corridor, and I dragged him back into the room. Uzo went to the toilet to release the other guys.

And then we rounded the crooks up and gave them a bit of our revival deliverance. We didn’t beat them – oh no, we didn’t. We had a more important task for them. Stripping them of their clothes, we made them clean and dust and scrub and wash the entire house. We ensured their industriousness with strokes of the cane. By dawn, I could see my shadow in the tiled floors. And when the morning was upon us, we sent them on their way, before settling down to do the needful.

Written by B. O. Okojiothers 49

Leave a comment


  1. Lmao. I dey sure say dis guy dey watch Hollywood film. Hahahaha… so naa d robbers wey tidy d house for u.

  2. anderson

     /  November 28, 2013

    Beht why una no hand dem over to d police, enh? Tomorrow nw they’ll use d vex of wht you guys did to dem to attack another bunch of innocents. Good read tho.

  3. Melexa

     /  November 28, 2013

    Hmmm… an awesome piece this is. U carried me along, I got scared with u and for u #forgotten inhaler# I even attacked with u…(I think) 😀
    Una get luck sha

  4. Yemie

     /  November 28, 2013

    Oh boy, u get plenty liver o! I know enough to know not to mess with a gun weilding person, but you guys were really lucky. Talk about free manual labour. Lol! Soo glad it ended on a happy note and that is if there’s no reprisal attack. A beautiful piece of writing, double thumbs up.

  5. Good work. I liked the ending especially.

  6. Sallie

     /  November 28, 2013

    Gbam!! Hungry idiots!!

  7. claudia

     /  November 28, 2013

    *laughing so hard my head hurt* sometimes there’s nothing as propelling as good old ‘boiling anger’!

  8. nik

     /  November 30, 2013

    Hahahahahahaha oga the law has won this battle. Imagine the idiots trying to destroy a peacefully planned holiday. Damn the look on their face , the humilation hahahahhahaha, le me read this again

  9. Yemie

     /  November 30, 2013

    I just shared this piece with a buddy of mine and something he said just seemed to click. The hunters became the hunted, bushmeat don catch d hunter. Lol!

    Payback’s a ‘byotch’ and revenge is best served cold as in ice cold, ‘on the rocks’, cold. Tx again for this piece.

  10. Yemie

     /  November 30, 2013

    And umbrellas too. Lol! I just relish it when tables are turned. Nothing compares to that feeling of absolute relief and satisfaction the writer musta felt at that hour, being in total contol and calling the shotz.

  11. b.o okoji

     /  December 2, 2013

    thank you all for ur thots! na becuz i survive make d story sweet o. lol

  12. K. Kelle

     /  December 2, 2013

    Mr. B. that was a movie-like escapade! I thank God for the comical ending. Beautiful narration, though.

  13. Jay

     /  December 3, 2013

    Nice piece bro,weldone

  14. Veritas

     /  December 3, 2013

    Onyiye!!! Dis your maze of a mind eh…

  15. jane

     /  December 4, 2013

    Bravo! LOL Smart/ Courageous guys. The literary device you used that made this piece captivating and interesting is SUSPENSE – when you forgot your inhaler and when you declared war on them. I was scared of the unknown.

  16. chika

     /  December 4, 2013

    Betty I hope u left Ikorodu that day! Nice one.

  17. edu1door

     /  December 8, 2013

    This is Good. But y u no invite me? I de find whom ti beat

  18. Adeleke Julianah

     /  June 20, 2016

    Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahaha 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂
    The turn of event is tok hilarious 😂 😂 😂


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