Labels
osisiye tafa
(4)
2011 presidential election
(2)
university of lagos
(2)
25th of may
(1)
GP
(1)
adeolu akinyem
(1)
batch b
(1)
bauchi state
(1)
being real
(1)
bode george
(1)
convocation
(1)
corpers remuneration
(1)
corpoer shion
(1)
degree
(1)
dele momodu
(1)
diplomacy in nigerian leaders
(1)
drummer
(1)
election violence
(1)
event review
(1)
first class
(1)
goodluck jonathan
(1)
graduate's musing
(1)
ingenuity
(1)
jega
(1)
loyola jesuit college
(1)
martial tune
(1)
media sensationalization
(1)
nigerian flag
(1)
nysc lagos camp
(1)
ohimai amaize
(1)
oronto douglas
(1)
otondo
(1)
parody
(1)
pat utomi
(1)
patience akpan
(1)
plastic lives
(1)
poem
(1)
presidential debate
(1)
presidential lunch
(1)
ribadu
(1)
rigging
(1)
roasted crickets
(1)
robert greene
(1)
service year
(1)
shekarau
(1)
short story
(1)
slain nysc corpers
(1)
sleeping on the floor
(1)
sunday ogidigbo
(1)
the 50th law
(1)
the punch newspaper
(1)
toms shoes
(1)
uche chuta
(1)
unemployment
(1)
vote
(1)
youth fora with the president
(1)
youth presidential debate
(1)
youth senate
(1)
yuguda
(1)
Sunday, 31 July 2011
'Madam,do me 3 indomie and 2 eggs, takeaway ni o'
'Ehen,my customer'
I dropped onto a seat and watched as she cracked the eggs,dropped them into hot oil and scooped spoonfuls of noodles into a styrofoam pack.
'Madam,na 3 indomie o! Make e plenty o'
'Okay,I know you nar' her lacerised face widened into a smile. She said that in obvious reference to my large appetite which she noticed in the early days of camp. 'Customer yii ma jeun gan' she kept saying whenever I hopped in.
Food gotten&payment made,I gave the shop a once-over-just a rectangular walk-in with a stove and kitchen odds and ends at its end.
'Madam goodnight' I muttered
As I walked midway out,I repeated louder this time 'Madam goodnight'
I wasn't being polite or obsequious,this was my last night on camp and I had come to appreciate these stands and people. I would miss them.
Walking back to the room,new friends staggered and patted my back,some shoved phones into my hands to exchange contacts and we all smiled dopely with the carelessness of youth.
On the tarred stretch that led to my hostel-Panama Bay we called it-I was left alone to my thoughts and the stifling ammonia from pee encrusted walls.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment