A Day Before My Death

“Biography or autobiography, which one is written by oneself?” Our teacher asked us some years back and we confusedly answered: "bio-auto-auto-bio-bio-aut-to"; confused set of young leaders of tomorrow of yesterday. We never knew we were writers ourselves! Everyone being the author of his/her story written in paper either by him or by others. Who cares gan-an? Èèbó!

At age nine, I was introduced into the circle of lust when I do take a nap on the same bed with my female sisters and some long-distanced-siblings. I remember vividly how I so much desired to have a pinhole view of a bigger girl many years ago even when my genital knew not that it has any other function other than just passing out urine.

By thirteen, I began my adventure, peeping fully into the world kept away from the sight of our parents and teachers. I remembered our school hall we separated into sections of blocks where things beyond our imagination happen – we were young anyway, so it’s pardonable! Isn't it?

By fifteen, she wrote me a letter, the first I ever received! It was addressed ‘My love’ and whatever followed were words written by a young fellow fully captured by infatuation, I was too; so we both blended! She later received mine, and then my confidence grew.

By nineteen, sex wasn’t a major concern, it was already a routine. The only concern was if I hadn’t done it in a span of up to three days, then I’m really losing out. Well, I still had to look into other issues, Ray introduced me to K-Marquine, he was the big guy with tattoos all over his body. He later lent me his shotgun, I learnt and later became a badoo.

We had our first operation at a warehouse, I broke the gate and took four people down, and that was a success! we celebrated like ‘mens’ with girls flanking and twerking to the rhythm of hip-hop – puffing Shisha and smokes like ghost riders, drinks splashed and bought with money we knew not who owns them, they’re all ours! After all there’s no heaven!
Oh what’s heaven? That reminds me, Pastor Victor told us: “a place designed by God to house the followers of Christ, those who obey God’s commandments and those who shall not die but……” what a pity! I killed him! Yes, I did! And he died!

Alfa Mudashir explained that “It’s a garden of greener pasture beneath which rivers flow, a place for the adherents of Allah’s guidelines; that they may live eternally and not die….” But his family members buried him the next day, I killed Him! It’s our work o…

And here I am with a cigarette stuck on my lips, ladies on my hips, wine on glasses, flapping asses; this is life!

Abstract are things that do not exist, such is the similitude of heaven and whatever…. until I got confused.

“Tomorrow, all men shall die! Our bones shall decay, our flesh shall rot, our souls shall ………. And our life shall end”.

Then I asked what shall happen to our souls? He opened his lips and just like that, he fell and died! “Ẹ̀gbà wá o, Alfa Saka ní màá nkú lọ yíi … èmi kó nmo paá o”. I knew very well this time I hadn’t taken any shot, people around said Death killed him!

WHO’S DEATH?

“Death shall kill every sons and daughters of man each at a time appointed and their souls shall go back to the Creator”
Then so what?
“...then the book shall be opened and read before the heavens and all its inhabitants, thou shalth not kill; thou shalth not lie; thou shalth not commit adultery; thou shall not taketh that which belongeth not to thee…”
I was alone, K- Marquine they told me is dead, and who killed him? ………..!!!
So I asked them, when will I die?
They gave no answer, but one told me; “today. Tomorrow, next week, next year, next decade or next century, but you surely will die!”
….but now I have a book full of death records, full of crime records, full of records of rape, full of sex scandals, full of stealing, full of crimes, of no religion and of no submission…. A book called Autobiography!

Remember, it’s just a day to my death day, what shall I do? I want that place described by late Pastor Victor and Late Alfa Mudashir, what shall I do?
I am just another son of man waiting for your advices…