DREAMS PART 3

Mustapha was kept in the cell by his father for talking to his mother rudely. I wondered what kind of lazy man the general was. You cannot train your own child again. You are leaving the fate of your child into the hands of the Nigeria police force… hmmm. I told him what I did wrong and he felt bad also. The soldiers that came to release him the next day stood in for me also. Immediately he stepped out of the station his levels changed. Three cars came to pick him and soldiers started barricading him again. He picked ten thousand naira from a slot in the car and gave me with his number written on a card. Give me a call and sirens started clearing the road for the wayward son.

Now I’m a free man with nowhere to go and nobody to call a friend apart from Mustapha. I walked into a joint and asked for cigarette and soda. Everything seems expensive in this town as soda is five hundred naira. I brought out a copy of complete sports newspaper I bought the previous day and read slowly to kill time. From time killing I mistakenly slept off. It was the giggle of some beautiful ladies that woke me up. I was scared and ashamed. Did I really sleep off? I thought to myself how loud my snore was. The ladies looked at me one more time in my confused state and laughed again. A woman walked up to me and asked if there was no problem, I told her there was none. 

I left the joint in shame and walked to the nearest phone booth to make a call. Mustapha has given me his number and how would I start calling someone I just met; who gave me ten thousand for accommodation problems again. The line rang all through the first time with no response. There was a complete ring the second time also. I was about leaving when the phone rang and he was calling back. I rushed to pick and told him the situation I found myself. He gave me an address and told me to meet him there. I stopped a taxi and told him the address: No 234b Kwame Nkrumah Street Asokoro. The driver looked at me in surprise like; who do I know there. 

It was three houses away from them Mustapha’s house. It was like a guest house. He opened a room for me and introduced me to the workers. He told them I’ll be here for a while thus I should be granted all the priviledges expected. I knelt to thank him but he pulled me up and said something “what are friends for”……. Frank don’t worry you’ll do better for me if it was you. I nodded like I knew I would but …….. We sat outside under a tree in the compound reminiscing when a group of girls walked inside. That’s my sister and her friends. They come here more than me he said. “They were matured and ready to be slaughtered” (a slang we use to describe maturity). They walked to us and greeted Musty and I. they said they came to do some group learning. They want to learn more about Sigmund Freud’s psycho analysis.

I leaped into the conversation: Sigmund Freud was an Austrian neurologist who became known as the founding father of psychoanalysis. Born: 6 May 1856 and died 23 September 1939

Freud qualified as a doctor of medicine at the University of Vienna in 1881, and then carried out research into cerebral palsy, aphasia and microscopic neuro-anatomy at the Vienna General Hospital. He was appointed a university lecturer in neuro-pathology in 1885 and became a professor in 1902.

In creating psychoanalysis, a clinical method for treating psychopathology through dialogue between a patient and a psychoanalyst, Freud developed therapeutic techniques such as the use of free association (in which patients report their thoughts without reservation and in whichever order they spontaneously occur) and discovered transference (the process in which patients displace onto their analysts feelings derived from their childhood attachments), establishing its central role in the analytic process. Freud’s redefinition of sexuality to include its infantile forms led him to formulate the Oedipus and electoral complex as the central tenet of psychoanalytical theory.

Significantly Sigmund believed every human could be traced in his deepest part through some basic instincts. The unconscious is the portion of the mind of which a person is not aware of. Freud said that it is the unconscious that exposes the true feelings, emotions, and thoughts of the individual. There are varieties of psychoanalytic techniques used to access and understand the unconscious, ranging from methods like hypnosis, free association, and dream analysis.

They were lost in my prowess of thoughts that I became a scene of knowledge to them. When I stopped they knew they were where they needed to be. Then I asked what the assignment is. They slowly opened their books and read “write on Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalytic theory”. Then I met the first three female friends in Abuja. 

With a textbook introduced it took me less than three hours to compose a prose on Sigmund. They appreciated me extremely and I became a muse for their success. Aisha started having feeling for me after I told her my life history one rainy afternoon. I mixed up the story in such a way that the devil would also pity me if he tends to listen. The emotions were greater than those in titanic and like a sinking Jack she became a Rose Surprisingly the daughter of a multi millionaire kissed the son of Dr and Mrs Itohan of blessed memory. She held me tight as she kissed me and told me when we pulled apart that she would always be there.  Then I knew again, I have a dream.

DREAMS PART 2

My name is Francis Itohan, and I’ve lived all my life in an environment that characterized the epitome of affluence and poverty. Development was minimal, poverty was rampant, and insecurity was undeniably present, famine was a regular, injustice resided in the neighborhood, kidnapping was now on the loom.

Weird as it could be that some don’t have good water to drink the others use a tank of water to wash their cars every morning, while some don’t have transport fare some roll in convoy, while some can’t find a place to lay their heads others build bungalows for dogs, while some are looking for food to eat we most organize buffet and at the end wasting these foods, while some don’t have clothes to wear others fill their wardrobes with what they will never wear, with insufficient police officers to guide the populace some keep thirty in their compound. The rich could do whatever pleases them and go away with it because justice resides with them.

Of these two one would wonder which I belong; none, I was in the middle class in a society that draws energy from the lower class to enrich the upper class thus suffocating the poor. Growth was restricted in all aspects of life, social, mental, religious, academic even physical. It was suffering and smiling all the way down. Growing up was fun at my level because I don’t have to think too much of where it was coming from, my parents need to get it. From my nursery through primary to secondary and lastly to the university I’ve always been the genius that everyone knew. I was the best in all thoughts of life apart from money. Read all the books in the world on how to get rich quick and discovered they don’t work in our society. Nigeria is greater in diversity than the “think and grow rich and rich dad poor dad” thing. One thing works in this country; if you can’t beat them join them. The truth is you can’t beat them.

I’m an epitome of frustration. The world seems to hate me and I don’t want to run to church because of hunger. Our fathers and mothers seem to be good liars because with their toners of story this country called Nigeria was once a good country. How did it depreciate to this level that it has lost all her flavours.  They all bought milk at 30kobo, when Volkswagen beetle was N300 and it was free education all the way. I don’t know if some of you remembered there were little or no armed robbers in the villages. And they all had jobs when they finished secondary school not even university. They lived in a jungle with no crime but brought us to a city which urbanism has destroyed.

Many mothers were teachers, nurses or traders creating time for their children but suddenly all these issues I’m talking about became dreams impossible for the present day young Nigerian to achieve. 

The accounts department packaged my money and gave me. I counted it in shame as I walked out of the company. I didn’t know the next step to take but I know I must stay where I am. I looked around and saw a more frustrating Lagos.  Since the death of y parents life has changed from being average to below poverty level. I feed from hand to mouth and savings was an abomination to me. What do I even have to save though? I resorted to a relocating but I won’t tell my landlord before he arrests me because of the eleven months house rent I owe. It was a long trek to ikeja from my office but to me it was a stroll. I got to khalif’s house and saw him drafting a proposal. He is also a jobless man but a better street boy than me. He lives on lies and he is capable of doing everything. From estate agents to oil and gas, sales rep, he even arranges affidavits and fake documents all in a quest for survival. He bought two sachet of water for me. It was chilling, which helped to quench the thirst generated from the sun. Who are you writing a proposal for I asked? I’m going to Abuja he said. What for…… guy I don tire for Lagos. I want to be close to the source of the national cake. I bought the idea and asked if I could come. Why not he answered with the assurance that we have an accommodation with an old friend of his who lives at Mpape district in Abuja. 

The next day, we took night bus to arrive Abuja in the morning. It was a ten hour drive and when I saw the glamour in the capital city I knew it was a venue for your dreams to come true. The wide roads and beautiful landscapes caught my attention and the way they smiled like they had no problems was attractive. I pitied my landlord; he is waiting for me to come back. He should sell the lantern and half mattress I have left in the room, I don’t care. As we alighted from the bus and stepped on the roads of Abuja, I knew I was a millionaire. I brought out ten naira from my pocket and walked to an aboki to buy Benson. I lit it and walked to the street to meet Khalif who was making a call. It was the third drag before a truck parked beside me and a man came out saying I’ll be paying a fine of five thousand naira for smoking in public. I was surprised at what he was saying thus I built a deaf ear. Two policemen walked towards us and told me to cooperate else I’ll be charged for ………. Something I can’t remember. I quenched the cigarette at this stage and started pleading.  Sorry man your fine is five thousand naira. Haaa for just smoking ten naira cigarette! My complains and appeals worked no magic, and the next point was Utako police station. The whole dream of becoming a great man in Abuja is going down the drain again. 

We were four in the cell I was kept. There I met Mustapha; a son of a retired general and my dream changed

DREAMS PART 1

The big and luxurious lobby was now getting busy with dignitaries of all kinds; it was when the senate President’s entourage arrived that I knew I was in the right place with the right people. Governors, ministers and their wives were all in attendance. Power and influence were at par this faithful day.

Senator Osawumi Tunde (OSA) as popularly called when finding his way to the top had always had the courage of a leader. Reading his biography written by one of the topmost writers in town Dr. Ajadi Iyiola, one would know he was far from silver spoon while he was born. He really was born with no spoon. His contest to the national assembly was with many hassles including an election tribunal,

all which ended in his favour anyway.

His person can be felt like Jesus entering into Jerusalem. That was the closest I’ve been with him. He looked towards me and I bowed to show some respect though I am older than him. Other dignitaries respected him also. He is really the number three citizen of the country. His wife looked beautifully elegant. Stare not for long else you might see no more. She radiated the beauty of the first in the man and with her by his side you know he is really presiding over senators. Then I knew rich people know themselves, also their wives. One peculiar thing is the smile they keep, like they have no problems. Though it looked plastic but you can’t but do it, so I started smiling also.

Exchanging pleasantries with ourselves and the champagne been rolled in trays, I watched my thoughts not to flow in a different realm from others. It was obviously a groove of the Whos’ but the question is who is making it happen?

They all had surnames that appear on Google for holding one position or the other in this country. What would you expect in terms of security? All I thought of was which day would I mount the seat of power in my own nation. Designers were supposed to see the glamour of their designs in the rich and know it was not really meant for everybody. The reporters were trying to capture every part of the drama and a live broadcast was inevitably uninterrupted but in a short while, the real drama was to begin.

I excused myself to the gents to get prepared. The master of ceremony has already started to greet his way to the stage and then I was off. I washed my face as I saw on TV and clean from a sheet of tissues that was beside the sparkling ceramics. I knew I would soon experience the greatest applaud in my life and from tomorrow, I would be a force to reckon with in this country. Nigeria has tortured me and now it was my turn to torture Nigerians. I checked myself in the mirror and I was looking so neat.

Opening the door I saw the wife of the defense minister, she has just ended a call, Francis she called me: that’s my first name I thought but I wasn’t angry. Answered like I was expecting her to know me and told her how well I like policies her husband just introduced into the force we laughed over my broad knowledge a little before she started complementing my book. She said she has been told by many how respectful I am and how intelligent I am. Thus she needs me to accept an offer from her. Tell the world my husband is the inspiration behind this writing.

My story is well spelt out and the chapters show glaringly how he grew to be who he is, not a defense minister. He never joined the force and never married a Yoruba woman. Don’t bother yourself too much Francis, as she put her hand on my shoulder. Five million naira she whispered and she was gone. I stood there a little, thinking to myself, would this be one of the obstacles that will affect my rise, not at this time nothing can stop me.

The master of ceremony has introduced some dignitaries. The royal fathers were seated and I was sighted and told in two minutes I would be coming on stage. I remembered my physical and health education teacher. We were thought how to breathe in and out.  I applied that to show no sign of fear in me but I was a little tensed.

Let’s put our hands together for Professor Francis Itohan. With a great applaud and a standing ovation I knew everything was possible just believe. I remembered hours of study to get to this level in life and rejections I‘ve received, now I know the sky cannot even limit me I’m going somewhere if you’re interested let’s glide.

Waving to acknowledge the applause I slowly with a glaring smile climbed the stage to deliver the speech in a writing that would change our nation and Africa in general. With a buzz sound in my ear I turned and discovered it was my alarm it was morning again, almost getting drowned in my sweat, I put on my rechargeable lamp, it was 5.30a.m . The darkness ravaged the whole town but I know if I don’t get out of that bed I’m losing livelihood. The senate president, defense minister’s wife, royal fathers, designer clothes, governors were all dreams.

I felt like going back to sleep but I knew for that dream to be actualized I need to be awake. I rushed three blocks around the corner to get a bucket of water to follow the custom of ablution.

Queued a little to get a space in the bathroom and the normal dress code never changes, off I am to catch a bus and the day just started. At the junction the long bus (molue) was already slowing down and the shouts of ojodu Berger produced so much noise. I got on the bus with my usual standing position finding my way to get a seat at every bus stop and failed till I got to work.

The office has not changed only one thing changed that day, I had a parcel on resumption and then I knew I was acculturated to the company personnel and the identity I got would make my whole morning. Now I know I am a full staff and nothing can stop it again. People now know me with my place of work and parcel can be delivered to me at work, because my house really had no address. A step at a time walking to my department and waving with the hand of parcel while tearing it, a letter this long should be an admission in all these schools I’ve applied to but why my company’s letter headed. Then I felt the chill of pain flow through me and the words read carefully:

We regret to announce to you that your services would not be required in this company any longer. This is the board’s directive and all entitlements would be paid. The papers for your payment are enclosed in the parcel delivered to you we wish you luck in your future endeavors

Signed

Thomas yori

 NB: i wish to apologize to all my readers that I've been distracted lately by another assignment which just finished. now I'm back and fully prepared to share the stories. good guys would continue after this series.... thanks for your understanding. i love you all