Anyone could tell he didn’t belong once he opened his mouth to sing the first line of the song “Kumbaya.” Apart from the unconscious cracks and the battle of staying on the key of C major, Joni was shaking with each breath exhaled. His legs wobbled, his hands waggled, and his eyes spoke the language of fear mixed with doubt. How shocking! He was introduced to the choir as a tenor singer from a sister church called Oasis. Unfortunately, this oasis had its lungs and throat all dried up. Joni stopped singing from the looks on every face. By a corner, he saw the man playing the drums lift his eyebrows - not in wonder but a mechanism most people adopt to hold back laughter. The woman playing the bass guitar was looking down at nothing. As Joni’s eyes roved around the church, he saw an invisible congregation, all rising from their seats, eyes tight with laughter! The white walls were bloody-looking. Ah! Even the brown wooden cross on the altar resembled a negation. Joni felt the wo...
THE ENGLISH MAN At first, I perceived him as my enemy, as did my colleague. When you regarded him with a greeting he responded with silence or a frown, not once, not twice. He had these knocked knees that he threw around like his pride when he walked out or into the ENGLISH lab that accommodated unfriendly dust. I pictured his face one day as the image of the un-wiped whiteboard occupying space in the lab. The board had many inscriptions on it that were quite ugly; like drawings of an amateur. It just hung there, representing a deceitful notion of facility needed. He would resume very early every weekday. His black shadow (computer bag) would sit on his desk signifying his presence when he left to teach a class. This black shadow suited a computer engineer or a lawyer, but certainly not an English teacher. I remember once picturing him in a suit and a tie, or a range rover sport. I had to perish the thought though because I wouldn’t know if he’d ever smile even in suc...