ONE CHANCE

Hey everyone! Hope you have been enjoying the latest posts and stories on the blog? If you can remember “Yagazie” by Ebosetale Oriarewo, we hope you can enjoy the lovely story too. Don’t forget to share and comment. Enjoy this very beautiful and comical story

This woman must think I’m mad, why else will she suggest I pay 500 Naira for just this gown? All these bad belle women everywhere, God forbid! I’ll pay her the money just because this dress is very important to me. I collect the dress from the woman and leave her small and smelly store raining curses on her and her generation. Thief, thief woman.

Tomorrow is going to be my day, the day that I will be discovered and this talent in me brought to light. All these people in this community will see me and they will tell my story to every one who cares to listen. I’ve bought my dress now, I’ve bought make up too and I still remember how Funke my neighbour attending the university of Lagos had taught me to apply it, I have mastered my walk and I have gotten all my goods for sale. Everything is ready, I’ll have something light for dinner and sleep soon, so I can look fresh for my day. 

The cock crow woke me up. I’ve never been this excited. I hurry to have my bath before the bathroom becomes full and I have to struggle for space. I take my time washing and scrubbing, it’s important. When I am done bathing, I apply my cream slowly and delicately like all those pretentious models I saw on Funke’stelevision. My brassiere and pant today are new, mama Tobi sold them to me at a good price- 750 Naira only. I will put on my dress before my make up so I don’t stain it, yes. This dress is the one that girls are calling ‘bandage dress’. It will bring out everything- all of my assets. I will have to suck bele sha, after all the fruit and water diet Funke said I should do for one week still no change. Useless girl.

Funke said you apply foundation before concealer, or is it concealer before foundation that she said? Which one is even the foundation or the concealer here? All these Marykay. Everything is for beauty. I’m not sure I remember where to contour and where to highlight. I’m already tired oh, but I will not give up. Pastor said the violent taketh it by force.  

People are out and about now, I’m done and ready to go. If only Iya Pelumi did not make this Ghana weaving so tight, just see my forehead on display. Enemy of progress.

“Baba God today’s business will not be like the rest for me oh, you told Pastor Kunle that this month will be different for me and so shall it be, and I know you will reward the offering I gave in church on Sunday, 200 Naira is bigger than my usual 10 Naira, and I promise that when I make it I will not forget to pay my tithe, I swear. In Jesus name, Amen.” 

My bowl of bread well balanced on my head I step out of my house. Everybody is looking at me, I’m so beautiful. I call out to passers-by to buy my bread with my recently learnt American accent, I walk like the model I’m about to become and stop for a pose every now and then with my hands on my hips. People pass me and take pictures. Jumoke had better be afraid, strong competition has arrived. 

Nobody is buying my bread, no problem TY Bello can pay me more than bread money. Those area boys told me she would be coming to this area for a photo shoot today, I paid the bastards 1000 Naira each, they were four in number. Four thousand Naira. Why are all these ones laughing? My Pastor warned me of mockers of prophesy and how they’ll suffer in poverty forever. They didn’t bother me, I carried on with my sales advertising my ‘sweet, fresh agege bread’ as I went. One man threw a fifty Naira note at me and walked past, he didn’t buy bread or speak to me, I called out to him and cursed him for thinking I was a beggar, but I kept the money. God was starting out small. 

It is afternoon already, no TY Bello or Tinie whatever his name is. Could those boys have lied to me? But pastor can’t lie to me, he’s God’s mouthpiece and God doesn’t lie, is that not what they said? I just need to be patient. My makeup is running down my face, this Lagos sun wants to spoil my show, God will not allow it. I can’t walk like a model again, my legs need rest and my stomach too. I’ll eat one loaf of bread, when I become a big model I can pay for the entire bowl of bread. I’ll sit here and eat and rest and then I’ll get back to work.

I’m eating and then this man walks up to me. He is really big, he greets me and I great him back. Finally Jesus has done it, maybe he is TY Bello’s bodyguard. He asks me to follow him and I do, all the while asking him if I look okay to meet his madam and sticking out my tongue to passers by. I’m telling them of how I’ll come back for them as I’ll be needing servants in my mansion. My accent is back, and my catwalk, sometimes a bounce is also back. Fame is sweet. 

He puts me in the car and there are armed men in the car. I think to myself TY must be very rich to have such protection. I talk to them a lot, ask them questions but they don’t answer me, instead they speak to themselves in a language I’m not familiar with, and laugh about something. I wonder what’s funny. They shouldn’t answer me, they should just wait till I become their madam and then they will know who is who. Worthless men that they are. 

We arrived at a place, I know this place. Ah! But this can’t be TY’s house or does she live around here? The men lead me out of the car and when I realise where I really am and who these men are I try to run for my life, but they’re faster and they bundle me up into this building I don’t belong in. I’m not mad, I’ve tried to tell them but they don’t care to listen. I’m not mad I promise them over and over again, I try to explain how I was just waiting for TY Bello and Tinie whatever to come for me. They don’t listen, instead they throw me into a cell with mad people. One of the men says that at least today the boss will pay them something for capturing one ‘mad one’. 

Please incase you hear anybody looking for me tell them I’m at Yaba Left and I need proof of my sanity. My name is Victory Adebola, Help! 

By Ebosetale Oriarewo.