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Wednesday, June 5, 2019

A Rich man or a Womanizer by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren



Leokad, a popular book distributor in Aba, Abia state, ordered for 200 copies each of my books—Giant in a Hut and Billy the Island Goat. On Tuesday morning, I was at Izuchukwu Motors at Jibowu to do a waybill. When I walked into the office, I was not comfortable with the silence that hung in the air. The office was a funeral and whoever coughed was sent to the gallows. Izuchukwu Motors have never been this silent. I approached Peter, the receptionist at the table. Peter tried to impress me with an exaggerated smile as we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries but it was easy to tell that he was in the same pool as others who seemed to swear an oath not to talk when Oga is around. He was not alone on the table. Peter is bare five feet tall. By his side was a man who is almost two times his height. He was dark and had a strong square jaw. He wore a shirt that had seen better days and his faded jean trousers worth nothing. But the man held a phone that was the size of an Olympic stadium.

I ignored the poor soul. “Leokad needs these books. Please make sure he gets them tomorrow,” I told Peter.

“Have you started promoting?” Peter asked me. His face broke into a gap toothed smile.

“NO. We are still supplying,” I replied. “I think I will start promoting by June!”

“Good.” He nodded almost a million times. He lowered his head to prepare the documents.

I frowned and cleared my throat. “Mr Peter,” I said. “Tell your company to open an office around Ojo or Festac. Jibowu is too far from my office…”


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Peter raised his head. But before he could respond, the man that sat next to him raised his hand and interrupted our conversation because his Olympic sized stadium phone rang. As he answered the call, I felt embarrassed. Why will a man like me interrupt my conversation by the mere wave of his hand? I wanted to react immediately but I decided to hear one or two things from Peter before I blow hot. So I swallowed hard and walked briskly to the other side where I could be closer to probe the hell out of Peter. Then I leaned on the counter and asked, “WHO IS HE? WHY HIM GO SAY MAKE WE NOW TALK?”

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“He’s my oga!” Peter whispered words that I could hardly hear as if it was an abomination to talk.

“HOW? I NO UNDERSTAND. WHICH OGA?” I probed with one eye on the man who was still on the phone. He was enjoying the telephone conversation but we were weighed down by the weight of his voice.

“THAT IS IZUCHUKWU! THE OWNER OF IZUCHUKWU MOTORS! You can meet him. Discuss your challenges with him!”

My jaws dropped. My eyes and mouth were widened in surprise. I looked at Izuchukwu and shook my head because I was not completely disappointed. I am blessed. I have met very wealthy people. They are hardly materialistic. Most times, they appear simple and casual. But in their simplicity, they are very domineering. Everything answers to them. They work extremely hard to keep a low profile and be away from the public. That is why you will meet the owner of Chisco Motors at one of his offices nationwide and still will never recognize him.

Izuchukwu is a terrible man on the phone. With his baritone voice, he doesn’t need a public address system to speak to the entire Lagos! He was on the phone forever and I could not wait. I turned to Peter and announced my leave because I also have my business to attend to.

Lagos is a small world. If you are smart, you can never be stranded in the city of Lagos. So I walked back to Jibowu to connect a vehicle that could take me to Mushin, the notorious town that never sleeps. Mushin can be clothed in blood in a matter of minutes. Mushin gives you everything—fame and fortune, curse and death!

My birth certificate shows I was born in Mushin. I love the street but I am not notorious. The street is my heaven because it raised me. If you are on the street, don’t join the crowd. If they are heading to the south, turn to the north. The most important thing is to stay in touch. Make sure you are not left behind. If you go with the crowd in a place like Mushin, you will be destroyed. If you master the street and possess it, you will have a good life! The street is complex. There is no regimented life. It gives you life in different shades. You could wake up to a violent morning and then embrace a blissful night on the same day. You can make a lot of money in the morning and still go to bed broke.

Yes, you can get killed in Mushin if you don’t mind your business. The people who rule the town don’t give a damn about what you think. They are real tough cookies. I have seen rival gangs kill each other and people desert the streets for days for fear of being killed.

Finally, I arrived at Mushin. I hit the side walk and made for the vehicle that will take me to Ilasa. I forgot my hands in my pocket. In my mind, I was alone in Lagos. The city was me and I was the city. I enjoy walking alone, especially with my hands in my pocket. But something out of this world knocked me back to reality. Two beautiful ladies were approaching me from the side walk. They were pure artistry, beauty and elegance. One had a good height and the other was barely reached my shoulder. But what she lost in height was made up in hips and bursts. She was the full package. That’s my kind of woman. I am hardly turned on by slim women. So I fixed my gaze on the lady with the full package. 
As my mind worked on the beauty, she glanced to the left. Before I could blink, she dashed into the shop. Then I noticed she strapped a baby to the back. I smiled. “Your man is enjoying,” I thought. Her friend followed her into the shop. As I approached the shop, I slowed down so that I can have a final view of the beautiful creature that nature threw at me.  I was disappointed when I saw the lady in a fight with two other people as her baby cried out loud on her back. Her friend was trying to pull her away but the lady was too strong even with the baby on her back. She took on the man and the woman in the shop as if there was no tomorrow. When she was finally dragged out of the shop by neighbours, I took her aside to a corner where I could have a proper of this beauty. “Why did you go in there to fight?” I asked as if I was actually going to solve her problem.

She breathed deeply and replied, “That man in there is my husband! We are married. I have three children for him. This is one of them,” she turned for me to see the one on her back.

“Eh-hen,” I nodded. “That is still not enough for you to go into another person’s shop to fight your husband and the woman.”

She looked at me and her innocent look broke my heart. “Oga,” she continued. “My husband doesn’t feed his children. Every time he tells me he has no money. But he rented that shop for that woman.”
“The woman you just fought?” I asked.

“Yes. She is his girlfriend. I have the receipt of the shop in the house. It’s with me! Initially I did not want to fight her. But when I grabbed my husband, he asked her to fight me.”

Speechless! I scratched my head and took her to a bench where she sat down. Then I walked back to the shop to catch a glance of the man in the mess. The man and his girlfriend have been battered by the light skinned lady. She had no injuries on her body but that could not be said of her husband and his new girlfriend who had cuts and bruises all over their bodies.  This lady is not only beautiful; she is a super woman.



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