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...
Her voice jarred in my ears like an un-snooze-able alarm as she narrated to her colleagues how her sex partner could not satisfy her the previous night. I stood at the bus stop that day for over an hour waiting to get a bus. It had not been easy for car-less residents of Lagos since the Okada and Keke ban. You either struggled or wobbled to get yourself home. I was usually part of the wobblers . That day had a vibe on its own that could send the devil himself to hell unwillingly. The sun refused to set way after past 6, the air was at attention, and car owners were very unfriendly... would you blame them? When this bus rolled up in front of me, I felt like Angelina Jolie in the Tourist, all I did was stroll in effortlessly. Yes, there are still some of us who think life is that easy. A group of 3 ladies and 3 men followed suit and we all started with this journey that would lead to another, in that Korope (mini bus). There would be wild thoughts and great rea...