Gidi Grind

I was at Renaissance Hotel earlier today for an event, and I remembered one stunt I pulled about 4 years ago laidat. I had gone for an interview at Ikeja GRA, but on getting there, I learned it had been rescheduled. Haaaa, o ja mi lara je. “Is that how my enemy will waste all this fineness and perfume?” Perfume that I steal from my brother’s room? Faaaaa faaaaaaaaàa fahhhhuhhhhiiiiii (shakes bottle) lifts my jacket (faaa fooihhh foohhh fahhhh). *Look rrandarrannd, lift armpit (ffaaahhhhh faahhhhh fooihhh fiaaaahhhuuu). You know how you use to use perfumes that iznor your own, especially when it’s original Chic cologne.

You step into the corridor and all the mosquito in the ecosystem come falling at your feet, blood everywhere. Haaaa Maami will be hearing the smell in heaven that day. As I cannot waste my Mary Kay and perfume nah so I look rrandarrand, and standing right in front of me on Isaac John, Ikeja GRA was Renaissance Hotel o. I thought it won’t be a bad idea to step into the world of elites and test my liver fa. And so, with nothing but my dreams and a good name to it, this girl made for its gate.

I escaped the main entrance, with my shoe doing kooooiii koooiii as if is my grandpa, Pa C.A that is paying their salary. I was tempted to greet the guards (home training will not let somebody’s enemy to be great), remembering there is no “mai-” in front of their own “guard” I ignored them and made for the next hurdle. A guard courtesied me as he opened the glass door and I nodded my appreciation with an air. That very moment, I just knew i was born for great things. I felt it in my gut, and so I stepped in with the air ac gushing at my sun-smacked face.

I patted my revolver, just in case… #test1passed.

So I got to the lobby and that is when the test of faith started. A guard asked to take my bag. “To where nah?” my eyes implored. How was I to know they wanted to screen it? I looked around and it was as though I was looking into an aquarium. Rich people chilling and moving around with such calm fluidity. Life looked so soft and easy on the other side, so palpable I could hardly resist reaching out to feel it. If only I can make it through this revolving glass, nothing will be impossible unto me again.

The lady at the entrance asked me to drop my phone in one raffia container laidat. I did, still looking around for my bag. Opelope foreign feem that I use to watch o, had it been is Nollywood, dazow I will disgrace my family name and they will use my enemy and do spectacle. I could still feel the sun where I standing, and I knew if only I could take a step forward, the glass door will open up to me and with it all the riches therein…

I exit the revolving glass and forgot (didn’t know actually that I was meant to) collect my phone. Everything happened so fast, liver dropped by one bar by now o. But I recovered and slithered my way towards the elevator with a sultry gaze just like I saw Uma Thurman do in “Kill Bill.” Their fada, is it me they will be using and be killing shayo? Mmmssshhhweeeemmm, their head is not complete. I collected my bag and faced my destiny, but I could still feel the lady’s eyes trail behind me as she radioed her colleagues-in-arms, abi colleagues-in-walkie-talie sef. #test2passed (or so I thought).

“Please, those guards that use to form hospitality and be bowing like estranged cousins of agamagama, don’t mind them o. They want to stall your plans to get to your destiny,” but I ignored the voice in my head. One young guard looking like Tabula Rasa imsef volunteered to escort me into the elevator, “ehhhnn emi nikan tan,” I was flattered. Not knowing his intention was to know my mission there – either for a function or simply to collet small ac and charge my phone. Meanwhile, I’d taken some selfies, while Tabular Rasa pretended to be up to something else. But in reality he was reverting to his boss who’d been watching me from the surveillance camera doing “change your style, another style and another style… be like that… electric shock…”

In my mind, I was praying for Rasa to leave me alone, I know my way, but he was there doing his job. He gave me small space looking at me askance while I called Olowogbogboro to “please save me, I won’t do it again…” Olowogbogboro did not pick my call o. Rasa be walking upandan with walkietalkie, and the crackling sound on the other side of the line is not sounding friendly at all.

“Madam, have you found the venue?”

“I’m coming.” Desperately seeking escape, I cannot fight.

I walked down the hall and pressed elevator, elevator open sesame and I saw two tall causasians, one male, one female… Just my luck!!! On seeing white homosapiens laidis, my brain froze over. Before I humiliate myself gaping at them slack-jawed, I smiled and heard myself ask “are you going up or down?” Usually, my brain would shot down like awa Tiger generator but thankfully not that day. They smiled (with paternal indulgence the way their forefathers did when they first came to “trade” with our ancestors and carted away with our Benin bronze and best hands) and said “down.” The white female homosapien held the elevator, and I slithered in again with my lofinda slaying them. I’d never been in such close quatres with whites before. In fact, I could smell their tobacco breath, both standing sixfeetplus above sea level.

I behave myself before I misinterpret their warm disposition and start a conversation with them, or anything else so they know I’m not intimidated by their heights or presence. I took a raincheck on that and focused on my phone instead, not holding it too tightly and ensuring the muscles around my shoulders were relaxed. Smiled at an imaginary joke on my phone and just as I stepped out of the elevator, I heard myself say “thank you.”

Thank you! Thank you??? What for? Whatever happened to “do have a lovely day,” or was it even necessary? Hiannn… Just when I had decieved them I was tush (or so I thought), that is when my village people now borrow my mouth. Won so naa, “you can take the bush man out of the bush, but you can’t take the bush out of him.” I made a mental note to give myself a flogging later that night. But in all, I was proud of myself. I passed the test, anything is better than F9.

“I will be back,” I told myself as I stepped into the blazing sun, looking at the gigantic building, “but this time in my car… This money, we must have it together…” And today, I made good my promise. Again, I told myself, “I will be back…”

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.

2 thoughts on “Gidi Grind


    (March 6, 2019 - 3:08 am)

    Keep the good work. I love this.

    Jésùjoba Pópóolá

    (March 10, 2019 - 2:37 pm)


    We wee eat this enjoyment together ni.

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