MENUKAM'S TALES
By Francisca Okwulehie( 2015)
"Loose, loose, bra ga,sa la la" are the words of Uncle Silas as he speaks in tongues during the deliverance service being conducted.
Today is the fourth Sunday worshipping in my uncle's church at Ring Road Aba ,Eastern Nigeria.
For the past two Sundays at my uncle’s church in Aba, Onwuchekwa, my uncle’s son and I have taken ushering duties helping church members undergoing deliverance.
However, a particular new member in the deliverance session seems headstrong as she gives the deliverance team a tough encounter.
I know that in no time, my Uncle will apply one of his tricks to get the woman falling under the anointing of the Holy Spirit. Speaking to the woman, He emphasizes she closes her eyes if she wants to be delivered.
I recognize this woman at the deliverance session as Madam Nkoli, the stout woman who sells abacha and nmanyi ngwo (palm wine) at Rogers street, the same place where I work as a mechanic apprentice.
As Madam Nkoli closes her eyes all she hears is a very cloudy sound close to her ears and the next second she finds herself on the floor. I nearly burst into laughter when she falls to the floor with a heavy thud; her weight is no different from two bags of caprice put together.
Uncle Silas is a showman and once again doesn’t fail in his Sunday deliverance performance. He has performed one of his tricks and Nwanyi Abacha aka Madam Nkoli fell under his anointing.
After service that day, i realized why Mama and Papa had chosen to remain staunch Catholics. The whole charade at the church today explained it all.
Anyways I didn’t come to the city to judge Uncle Silas and his beliefs. I am here to make meaning of my life. It is almost September and in no time it will be Christmas.
I need to get another job aside my apprenticeship at Roger's Road. My sisters will definitely expect me to return home with souvenirs from the city after all who leaves for a big city and comes back empty hand.
I remember my Uncle talking to my parents’ telling them about opportunities in the city for young people. He stressed on how success depended on determination and hard work.
Days have passed and two months have rolled by and I have gradually adapted to city life partaking in the hustle and bustle to make ends meet.
Some people work three jobs a day, bread hawking in the morning, tailoring in the afternoon and bean cake { akara} selling at night. When I reflect on the challenges and quest for survival in the city, De Nwoye's words "Uwadiegwu" comes to mind meaning the world is indeed mysterious.
During my experience two weeks ago at the Mechanic Workshop where I work as an apprentice, something terrifying happened that nearly cost me losing one of my legs. In fact I stopped working after the incidence.
I would have lost my leg last week. Oga Titus my boss asked me to help him lift a very heavy engine part. In the process of lifting we heard a loud blast and Oga let the engine drop in shock, I was very lucky to have wedged the engine with the last energy in me. Part of the engine fell on my foot as I shrieked in pain.
It was discovered later that the blast came from the vulcanizer by the workshop who over pumped a tyre. After the accident my boss didn’t show sympathy instead He demanded I pay for the damaged engine.
Thinking of the whole incident I ask myself “what if I had lost my leg” in the accident which wasn’t even my fault that means sorry would have been my only compensation.
While recuperating I met Chijioke on one of my evening strolls .He used to attend my Uncle's church before Uncle moved out with his family to Gabon. I told him I needed a job at the moment having explained what I went through in the hands of my former boss.
I started work as a loader at the factory down Omego avenue. The factory is owned by Chief Omego Eze, a popular business man here in Onitsha. I learnt Chief Omego has been married for the past twenty years with no child but he is said to be worth millions of naira.
Rumour has it that he is a member of an occult society. Looking at it really, his boys are doing well, or do they all belong to the same cult as him?
Anyway I need not bother about Chief Omego and his boys. I am more concerned about how to change my situation.
Even the three cups of garri I make in the morning as eba and my always ready made okro soup is never enough to take me through the whole day in this energy consuming job.
Am on my bed staring at the kerosene lamp on the small stool left behind by the earlier occupant of my room.
I reminisce those idle moments when my colleagues and I at the former mechanic workshop used to relieve little gossips and worries that bothered each person.
It was Obinna telling John a joke on how he had come to discover that life is too short to be taking panadol as everyday medicine.
He said this while swallowing the okpa he had bought from the fair complexioned Okpa seller ,ChiChi.
In his words" My friend life is too short to be taking panadol for everyday”.
Can you believe the Kaftan I bought from the mallam fabric seller recently was stolen last night.
After washing it yesterday evening I forgot to bring it in and by morning I couldn't find it where I had spread it.
While I mourned the demise of my Kaftan. Madam Nkechi suffered a heart attack this morning when her sales girl came with the news that her shop had been burgled last night.
Nwanne it was then i realized that life is too short to be troubled over."
By Francisca Okwulehie( 2015)
"Loose, loose, bra ga,sa la la" are the words of Uncle Silas as he speaks in tongues during the deliverance service being conducted.
Today is the fourth Sunday worshipping in my uncle's church at Ring Road Aba ,Eastern Nigeria.
For the past two Sundays at my uncle’s church in Aba, Onwuchekwa, my uncle’s son and I have taken ushering duties helping church members undergoing deliverance.
However, a particular new member in the deliverance session seems headstrong as she gives the deliverance team a tough encounter.
I know that in no time, my Uncle will apply one of his tricks to get the woman falling under the anointing of the Holy Spirit. Speaking to the woman, He emphasizes she closes her eyes if she wants to be delivered.
I recognize this woman at the deliverance session as Madam Nkoli, the stout woman who sells abacha and nmanyi ngwo (palm wine) at Rogers street, the same place where I work as a mechanic apprentice.
As Madam Nkoli closes her eyes all she hears is a very cloudy sound close to her ears and the next second she finds herself on the floor. I nearly burst into laughter when she falls to the floor with a heavy thud; her weight is no different from two bags of caprice put together.
Uncle Silas is a showman and once again doesn’t fail in his Sunday deliverance performance. He has performed one of his tricks and Nwanyi Abacha aka Madam Nkoli fell under his anointing.
After service that day, i realized why Mama and Papa had chosen to remain staunch Catholics. The whole charade at the church today explained it all.
Anyways I didn’t come to the city to judge Uncle Silas and his beliefs. I am here to make meaning of my life. It is almost September and in no time it will be Christmas.
I need to get another job aside my apprenticeship at Roger's Road. My sisters will definitely expect me to return home with souvenirs from the city after all who leaves for a big city and comes back empty hand.
I remember my Uncle talking to my parents’ telling them about opportunities in the city for young people. He stressed on how success depended on determination and hard work.
Days have passed and two months have rolled by and I have gradually adapted to city life partaking in the hustle and bustle to make ends meet.
Some people work three jobs a day, bread hawking in the morning, tailoring in the afternoon and bean cake { akara} selling at night. When I reflect on the challenges and quest for survival in the city, De Nwoye's words "Uwadiegwu" comes to mind meaning the world is indeed mysterious.
During my experience two weeks ago at the Mechanic Workshop where I work as an apprentice, something terrifying happened that nearly cost me losing one of my legs. In fact I stopped working after the incidence.
I would have lost my leg last week. Oga Titus my boss asked me to help him lift a very heavy engine part. In the process of lifting we heard a loud blast and Oga let the engine drop in shock, I was very lucky to have wedged the engine with the last energy in me. Part of the engine fell on my foot as I shrieked in pain.
It was discovered later that the blast came from the vulcanizer by the workshop who over pumped a tyre. After the accident my boss didn’t show sympathy instead He demanded I pay for the damaged engine.
Thinking of the whole incident I ask myself “what if I had lost my leg” in the accident which wasn’t even my fault that means sorry would have been my only compensation.
While recuperating I met Chijioke on one of my evening strolls .He used to attend my Uncle's church before Uncle moved out with his family to Gabon. I told him I needed a job at the moment having explained what I went through in the hands of my former boss.
I started work as a loader at the factory down Omego avenue. The factory is owned by Chief Omego Eze, a popular business man here in Onitsha. I learnt Chief Omego has been married for the past twenty years with no child but he is said to be worth millions of naira.
Rumour has it that he is a member of an occult society. Looking at it really, his boys are doing well, or do they all belong to the same cult as him?
Anyway I need not bother about Chief Omego and his boys. I am more concerned about how to change my situation.
Even the three cups of garri I make in the morning as eba and my always ready made okro soup is never enough to take me through the whole day in this energy consuming job.
Am on my bed staring at the kerosene lamp on the small stool left behind by the earlier occupant of my room.
I reminisce those idle moments when my colleagues and I at the former mechanic workshop used to relieve little gossips and worries that bothered each person.
It was Obinna telling John a joke on how he had come to discover that life is too short to be taking panadol as everyday medicine.
He said this while swallowing the okpa he had bought from the fair complexioned Okpa seller ,ChiChi.
In his words" My friend life is too short to be taking panadol for everyday”.
Can you believe the Kaftan I bought from the mallam fabric seller recently was stolen last night.
After washing it yesterday evening I forgot to bring it in and by morning I couldn't find it where I had spread it.
While I mourned the demise of my Kaftan. Madam Nkechi suffered a heart attack this morning when her sales girl came with the news that her shop had been burgled last night.
Nwanne it was then i realized that life is too short to be troubled over."
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