TWO STORIES-MY STORY AND YOUR STORY

Hi. My name is Kunle Omope, let me tell you a story…erm…actually, let me tell you two stories.

Tunde was hungry and jobless. After luckily finding ninety-five naira in the pocket of a pair of trousers he had not worn in a long time, the first thing that came into his mind was bread and beans.

And so, Tunde embarked on the small journey to Iya Sheri’s shop. He didn’t mind that the shop was by the express road, about one kilometre from his house.

So, he trudged on by the side of the road not minding the dust from the cars that sped by, he firmly clung to the plastic bowl wrapped in a nylon bag. He was deep in thought when he heard a gunshot.

Looking back in shock, he saw a saloon car in the distance, driving furiously and recklessly toward him. In his fear, he also noticed that the car was being chased by a security truck with gun-toting policemen.

Without wasting a second, Tunde ran into the nearby bush and lay down on the ground, praying for the Devil to gently pass by.

As his nose kissed the damp soil of the bush, his mouth moved with the rapid speed of prayers. The gunshots kept ringing in the air. Just as Tunde was almost fainting from fear, a large object landed on his head.

All he could do was imagine what this object was. It was not until the noise had stopped that Tunde raised his head and realised it was a heavy bag that fell on his head. He summoned courage and pulled down the zip of the bag…Dollars!!!

Tunde quickly zipped the bag closed, lifted the bag and put it atop his head. He ran home with what he felt was the loot of escaping robbers.

A few minutes later, Tunde was in his face-me-l-face-you one-room apartment. He had emptied the bag of dollars on his bed and was thinking up big dreams.

And that is how Tunde hammered.

Now, to the second story.

After a day of very hard labour, Festus sat down inside a bus stop shed at night. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it and puffed away the sorrows of a situation that threw a university graduate into a construction site to carry kpon-kpon for a living.

He was lost in thought, but his fingers travelled a familiar path to his lips and back, while puffing out smoke that floated clumsily into the air before being swept away by the evening breeze.

At first, he thought the ringing sound came from his mind, but as he listened a little more intently, he realised that a mobile phone was ringing nearby.

Well, after he picked the call, it turned out the owner of the phone was the soft spoken butter daughter of an oil magnate.

The next day, he was in the palatial home of the very wealthy oil magnate.

Favour shone on Festus, when the wealthy man showed him gratitude for returning his daughter’s lost phone by offering him the position of manager in one of his oil companies.

Now, my readers, can I ask you a question?

Have you ever been so broke that you imagined you were the one in any of these stories?

It is called MUMU IMAGINATION. I have been there. Have you?

The End.