After so Much threats from you Guys…
Here is the sequel to “The Jazz” Read, Laugh n share of course
Read the part 1 here. The Jazz
**Light Dims,Curtain opens,Music plays**
…..I had almost fallen asleep when I was jolted awake by my Phone’s ring tone. It was mummy maths…(lol, no na, I didn’t save her name with mummy). She said she had sent me a picture. That something terrible had happened.
I quickly opened my blackberry messenger, scrolled to her contact and saw the picture she had sent.
I couldn’t believe it!!!
GHEN GHEN GHEN GHEN
It was a picture of her hand.
The same one she had slapped the student with…
IT WAS SWOLLEN…
Whatever molecule of sleep left in my eyes immediately evaporated.
I looked closely to be sure that what I was seeing was real and not a figment of my imaginative head.
On closer observation, it was her hand surely. Her red painted nails, and a mark close to her wrists where she had been injured in one of those little children incidents whilst growing up, were more than enough to lend credence to the fact that this was real.
The pings accompanying the picture were
“Steve! I am dead! just woke up now and saw my hand like this. It must be the jazz. Please, you guys should not go to that school tomorrow. This is real.”
Here was a young lady, who hours earlier was venting in the principals office, now humbled to the point of belief in jazz by her swollen hands.
Instantly, the little cartoon-like angel and devil with fork my head curses me with in times like this, appeared beside me and their normal argument ensued thus :
“oh! Stephen, be not afraid, for thou hast the power to trample upon serpent and scorpions, no weapon fashioned against thee shall prosper” quipped the angel
“ogbeni! If u know what is good for you…..you will run for your life….look at your hand it is already swelling up. You want to now go to that school and go and now kill yourself…if you…..”
“listen not to the voice of the black one O my child” the angel interjected “i have not given you the spirit of fear…
“my guy fear and run for your life” the forked devil replied……. “ this is no time for ‘I can be your hero baby’….”
They kept going back and forth with their tantrums. On closer examination of my hand, e come be like say the fingers I use knock the boy come dey swell. From a different angle though, it seemed normal. Maybe this was just my mind playing tricks on me.
I looked at my friend sleeping on the bed oblivious to what was happening, arms stretched out like superman. Mouth wide open like he was being fed in the dream of which he occasionally chewed and swallowed to confirm my theory.
If this one wan begin swell….
na the entire body go swell be that na….because na everywhere him use flog that pikin yesterday.
Sleep eluded me. I constantly monitored my fingers for weight gain.
Every sound, every little movement had a supernatural quality to it.
I was willing myself not to believe it but that picture was too real to disregard.
It is on days like this you have longer nights, shorter days.
Morning refused to come, no matter how much I pleaded.
At last, I finally fell asleep some time close to dawn.
When I woke up, and the bright sunlight pouring into the room ushered me into the realization that it was morning, I couldn’t bring myself to look at my hand.
It certainly felt heavy as I weighed it in my mind….Only God know whether e never big like the Incredible hulk own.
I opened my eye rather slowly.
And guess what?
My hand was….
my hand was…
(in Frank Edoho’s voice)’
If you had said swollen you would have been….
you would have been…
You would have been ……..
if you had chosen swollen
let’s take this commercial break first……..
(that guy is just mad, steadily giving people high blood pressure)
My hands were not swollen, plus I received a message from mummy maths that her hand had reduced almost to normal size. It was popular opinion that the swelling must have been as a result of the bite of a particular kind of insect. Anyways, she was going to see the Doctor just to make sure she was alright and would join us later in the day in school.
That was a close one.
I felt downcast. I had let fear and stupidity get the better part of me. Abandoned logic and applied reasoning so quickly.
I spotted my NYSC shirt which was all I had to wear because the rain had drenched most of my clothes the previous night (wen fear no let me come outside come bring am inside) and set out for school with my friend, like any other day.
To be honest with you, during the assembly that morning, I was a little uneasy. My friend who was supposed to be most scared if anything was going to happen, was his normal happy self and was making little remarks about the events of that morning. After a while I eased up. I mean if anything was to happen, I guessed they had a change of heart. Even the principal although originally perturbed to see us in school, relaxed as time wore on.
Closing-bell rang and the day which was generally uneventful took a radical turn, a sudden twist, if you may…
We just noticed that most students were scampering in different directions away from an original source of disturbance. Even some of the teachers took retreating steps knowing what was to come.
As the dust cleared, I saw the student in question, who had not come to school all day, coming towards us with one of his brothers. Tall, dark, scruffy looking with enough red clothes and cowrie shells tied around his body to give him the look of a native doctor’s house….
GHEN GHEN GHEN GHEN
Obviously he had been told by his brother, that a master corper had beaten him up the previous day and guess who was wearing corper uniform, with NYSC boldly crested all over my flat chest???
He charged towards me, pointing and saying “shey ohun niyen abi ”(that’s him right?) the only response that could come out of my mouth was a faint plea that I was not the real ohun.
“is not meeeee, am not the ohun” I cried faintly as I retreated away from the charging medicine man.
His brother pointed him in the right direction of my other corper friend, saying in Yoruba that both of us were involved but he was the main person. Before my friend had the time to even stand up for himself, the student brother’s hand had touched his chest, with a finger that had this weird looking ring on it, while exclaiming at the top of his voice, “e je koriko”
I might not have known what that meant but what I saw with my eyes was enough to explain…
GHEN GHEN GHEN GHEN
First, my friend smiled.
You know that classic smile in Nigerian movies when you just ate love portion or when the madness wan start.
It was a wide satisfying smile. The same type I have when I eat ewa-agoyin, bread and cold coke…sorry! Grilled Chicken and Freshly Squeezed Orange Juice… I’m an Ikoyi boy remember?
Then he sat down on the football field and gave meaning to baba’s (herein after referred to as don jazzy, who I suspect is a jazz man by d way, if not why that name? ) earlier incantation.
He picked a handful of grass and shoved it into his mouth, and started chewing.
If na person tell me, I for no believe but seeing is believing.
The worst was that my real guy, my real realest guy, was looking like he was enjoying it.
He had this look on his face like
“oh my sweet grass, where have you been all my life, Thank God I finally found you”
He chewed, spat it out like gum that had lost its sugar, took an even Larger handful and masticated in deeper enjoyment of the act.
It’s hard to explain but my friend looked so happy and made grass look so nutritious, that I was almost tempted to bend down, take some for my self and chew too…
Omo! Who knows na, my brother, if e be say we dey miss since and these cows no want tell us….
Seeing as he had dealt with one of the targets he was here for, he started walking in my direction. But before he got to me, I had been surrounded by Kamoru and his boys.
In every public secondary school, there is always a kingpin. More like the capon if this were a cult. He was deeply feared in the school and also handled matters involving students of his school and others. He receives the letters from other schools’ capon in cases where an inter-school fight was going to happen. Which by the way, more often than not, happens because of a girl. In this school Kamoru was the alagbaara, the man in charge of defending this territory, as could be seen from some marks he had received over the years from fighting.
Their decision to defend me, was more of a territorial infringement thing to them. How could someone just come inside their school and just start threatening their people!
Heated words were exchanged in Yoruba but it did not seem like the ‘Don Jazzy’ was going to retreat. He had obviously come here to show me pepper and there was no going back.
Some teachers stepped in to beg the student’s brother and Kamoru retorted “ ma se be won, o ti poju fu won, won le se nka kan” (dont beg them, its too much for them. They can’t do anything)
In my mind I’m like; dis one haff mad oh! See my guy happily eating grass and you say they can’t do anything???
“You, Kamoru, you don’t fear me abi, because of the small medicine you have learnt abi? I will show u today!”‘Don Jazzy’ said in his Language
Through all their haggling, threats and counter threats, Only one thing was crossing my mind. Who send me come dis place eh! God. Who send me to knock this boy. E don make me join part of the “ohun” people. As I looked at my hand, the little imagined angel appeared on my shoulder and whispered “ if thine hand hath made thee to sin, cut it off”
Kamoru and his guys were in a kind of formation where you had to pass his three boys, then pass him before getting to me. But I did not feel any safer.
In an instant, the young baba charged at Kamoru’s boys and blew a powder in their faces, as he shouted “e sare”. My yoruba was good enough to know that meant “run!” and I was right because the three boys started running in a big circle around my friend, the grass eater.
It was a funny sight to watch but on remembering that I would soon join them maybe somersaulting or frog jumping round them in an even bigger circle, I lost any zeal to laugh.
Is this one mad? What is funny…
Now, the next act made me believe totally in all them jazz things.
I saw him clearly. I don’t use glasses so I’m sure of what I saw…
I saw him throw his ‘it-was-white’ handkerchief up and somewhere in mid-air, it changed into a knife.
Or for those of us who grew up in the tushed areas of the country what is popularly known as a “lebe”
Voom! He charged for the baba’s chest, before he had any chance to blow any more powder or whatever else he had in stock.
Clearly again, I saw the velocity and anger with which he rammed the lebe into the chest but on retracting, all it succeeded in doing was push the baba to the ground. He stood up, his cloth had been punctured with a little knife hole but there was no injury or any sorta blood flow.
I Died inside!
He stood up, wiped his chest and shouted “ko le woh” (it cant enter)
I saw Kamoru bring out a ring from his pocket while maintaining a focused look on the baba.
That one himself had his hands in his pocket and was muttering some incantations to himself…
Kamoru’s boys were still happily usain bolting around my grass-loving friend
while I the ohun master had hot piss in my bladder, and total belief in the existence of jazz!
As they charged towards each other, the principal materialized from nowhere, came in between them and touched them on their chest.
The next action dumbfounded me….
They both sat down on the ground, and started sucking their thumbs, with apt concentration like newly born kids. Hah!
I Realized there and then, that it was us who were working for the Real Don Baba J himself.
This same principal with almost 3million crucifix in his office and was talking the other day like he couldn’t hurt a fly, na him come jazz both don Jazzy and Kamoru!
Without Saying a word, he went to the running boys and gave them each 3 sapas. (if I have to explain what a sapa is to you, then you’re not a fresh kid at all)
A Sapa, is that kind of slap that they land on your ogo (u don’t know what ogo is too?, oh! dear! Me I can’t help u please(??? ). )
You know all those hot sapas that you have to blow your hand before giving? 3 of it landed on each boy and they regained consciousness.
Obviously my friend’s case was a lot worse because it took 8 sapa’s, 1 abara on his back and two slaps to bring him back to consciousness.
He said some words, as he gave both Kamoru and Don J his finger to kiss. They recovered, and looked momentarily humbled.
He went on to state how he had told them never to bring all their nonsense into his school compound and next time, he wouldn’t take it lightly with anyone who tried this kind of nonsense with him, before marching back to his office.
As he walked,
Don J and Kamoru had “this it’s not over until it is over” look… In my mind I’m like; if I dey here when una dey over the thing, make I die.
To be honest, I packed my bag that night. No be only daddy maths, na nephew economics.
Avoided as much as I could, any contact, with that my guy!
Abeg! No be me go come reach Abeokuta begin chop grass.
Prayed all through my Journey back home as I sat beside this very old man with long white beards who decided to wear a red shirt and promised myself never to come back there, if I made it Home safely…
I got home late at Night and as I walked in, on the roof of the next building was a black cat crying meow meow!
I now knew too much not to assume this was not that baba at my cousins place at orile.
I simply greeted the cat “good evening sir” to which it replied meow!
I went into my room and slept off, happy I had neither eaten grass nor, worse still, all the Understanding Mathematics textbooks in the school…
The End !!!!
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