Drama at the Library I

His smile was insistent and warm, a little out of place, like a brilliant sun in another galaxy. Not a likely find in the library. Well, there was something unsettling but endearing about him, I later discovered it was the French. In his mind, he’s the only one that can speak French in the library.

“Mademoiselle, j’aime ton cheveaux”, to which I smiled, “merci”, because he like my hair. I face my book as I’m forgetting my French verbs, and I didn’t want to disgrace myself in front of Ghandi. “C’est mache bien?”; wanting to know if my extension box is working. I nodded, thinking (do and plug your laptop before someone ferst you and plug o. I can’t settle quarrel.) Just as he made to plug it, NEPA “off” light.

“Maman, pas lumierre?” I dye, uhhnn uhhmmm, NEPA jest bring light ni. As if he read my thought: “desole, tu me derange” Oh God, can this egbon jest keep kwayet? Of course, you are distopping me. Bert I flashed him my smile, “j’ai oblie tout de mots, donc, je parle un peu monsieur”. Because I forget all the French they teach me in Alliance Francaise, he should do small small so I don’t disgrace myself.

“Awwhh, d’accord, pas mal, tu vas bien. Tu parle bien”. ” Vraiment?” I asked half-praying not to disgrace my French teachers as le conjugaison was doing “sandalili sandalili” over my head. Just when I thought the figurine in his father’s compound has finally gotten a drink, he started manifesting again.

Egbon don fly to Baba Library, you know that one that use to holler-, “lecturer continuo nnu.” When he spots anyone talking in the library. Ehhnn, that one.

10 mins, power never come, na so egbon provoke, “dey no go bring light, which kain tin nah?” Dasow one egbon for my back- obviously incensed by the “qu’est que ce…=¢=€ππ¢®|℅€^©°¢℅’:@&$($:$&???”, he’s been shouting since morning- answered:

“You know DSA’s (Dean of Students’ Affairs) office? Jude has gone there”… Someone whistled to emphasize the “ela”, and suddenly the library roared in laugher. Chesssoss, I dye. Dasow I know egbon is not Francophone after all, because e jest keep chut afterwards. Chaiii, Nigerians and sarcasm are like this (interlocks both pinky fingers).

After a while, I packed my things and to, “je vais parti o.” He replied with renewed gusto, “a la maison, qu’est ce que tu vas fais a la maison?” Me I need to go “parce que j’ai beaucoup a faire.” I’m a busy grh or somtin laid at. We exchanged names and we were “enchante.”

The rope I use tie my hair is too tight, girl have loose her beauty finish. I am hungry and tired. Bert no sooner had I boarded Campus Shuttle than one egbon started to chant “kant yorr blessings name dem wan by wan”. E dakun, who did I offend today nah?

Post Author: Arinola Ogunniyi

I tell simple everyday stories we take for granted in ways you wouldn't have imagined them. From dated stories, myths, reviews, "street-lores" to topical issues, these mind bending series will leave you begging for more. And if you trip over my sentence structures, it's part of the experience. You can call me the Last Story Bender. I mastered the rules of language to break them.

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