My yansh itched again,

As the sun’s heat permeated through my skin,

Making me groan from inside.

When the itching persisted,

I began to think of the best way to scratch the stupid thing

Without attracting attention to myself.

It was Xmas period,

I had been paid a very silly amount to be a mascot

For a primary school having their Santa Claus show;

My job was to stay in front of the school like a statue for three hours,

While only changing positions unnoticeably at intervals.

I was dressed in my customary uniform;

My upper body left bare, while

A white wrapper adorned my lower body.

All uncovered sections of my body were smeared with thick coats of white paint.

You would mistake me

For a ‘Ojuju Calabar’

All these, for a meager amount of 2,500 naira! Imagine! (Pshew!)

As the sun scorched,

The heat became unbearable

And my body itched more

My body ke?

Forgerit o! Na the yansh own bad pass.

Kai! Come see me see wahala!

I stylishly ‘scratched’ my ‘yansh’

As it started its Libya rebellion again,

Praying also that my time will soon be up

And I can collect the useless money and go home.

While bemoaning my fate,

And regretting ever subjecting myself to the mascot ‘wahala’;

A mad man walked past.

He must have heard me hiss

Because he suddenly paused and looked back:

He peered at me with interest.

His curiosity must have gotten the better of him

Because he walked back towards me.


Mo gbe!

Mo ti daran!

I began to sweat profusely as he walked towards me.

I contemplated between running for my dear life

And pretending I was a statue.

Before I could make up my mind

He stood right in front of me and studied me

Like a student studying for JAMB.

Suddenly he poked at my chest with his index finger.

Me ke! Smart guy!

I no even breathe not to talk of shaking.

Na me go come mumu sotay mad man go re-arrange my life.

He poked my forehead, I remained still.

He cocked his head to one side and stared at me.

He poked me again,

This time around,

On my paint covered tummy.

I no shake lailai

He arched his eyebrow and he pulled my nose.

Still I did not move,

But me know say I don dey enter am small-small.

Suddenly he bent to pick a piece of wood

That had been lying at my feet all the while.

As he raised his hand to smack me with the wood,

I farted loudly.

Ol’ Boy! The mess loud no be small!

The mad man paused as the sound and smell reached him,

Giving me time to device a new plan.

I thought about running

But when I remembered my 2,5 I changed my mind.

Before he could raise his hand again,

I started a very slow robotic dance

That caught his attention;

He dropped the wood and watched me with interest.

Before I could say ‘Amen’

Bros sef join me for the dance.

Ol’ boy!

Come see as mad man dey dance running man.

When he got engrossed in the dance

I began to stylishly move from my spot.

He must have noticed because he paused,

Cocked his head again and

Tore me two very hot slaps!

Twack! Twack!

The slap rang louder than any Chinko ringtone I ever heard in my life.

As I saw him raise his hand for another slap

Ol boi! I took off like a mad rat,

runnung as if all my life depended on it.

Come see as mad man dey chase me for street.

I dey move the guy sef dey move.

 If you see me that day you go know say Usain Bolt no sabi run rara.

How I escaped it that day still baffles me.

Till date I still remember the slap; The slap hot sotay I forget my money.

Na how to escape the mad man trap na hin I dey find.

As for my 2,5….. Well, Maybe one of these days I will call the school to collect it 🙂


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