OLYMPUS HAS FALLEN
Dear Davy Jones, New year tinz. Lol. The boredom of this particular holiday is unnerving. My parents think I should be preparing for the new session – reading ahead of the class and all that.
I will have you know that it really doesn’t work that way. Bottomline – I am not taking the advice. I should have some resolutions. But, honestly, who keeps resolutions these days anyway?
Dear Davy Jones, I think we are making progress. I see I have a daily ritual of writing in u these days. I am really bored. You know how I stopped reading romantic novels? Actually, I never stopped. Don’t think I ever will. A girl has needs, plus I have to indulge myself, last session was grueling and these holidays seem everlasting. Again, I may have blown my only chance to intern. Even putting on the sultry seductress voice over the phone while talking to Paul – the guy in charge of the internship placement thing – didn’t work. I swear, that guy is a born again Christian. Or maybe I sounded like a croaking frog -_-
Dear Davy Jones, if I don’t get to kill my brother one of these days, my life won’t be fulfilling. That boy is a pain in the back side. My parents would always support him, especially my mum. It is so unfair. Ever since he got admission like several months back, the idiot – yes, I am not taking that back- has been misbehaving. *Calm Down*
Okay, I know they have these ridiculous procedures for freshers, Unilag likes to milk people dry, but he has been going to school ‘indiscriminately’. That boy is up to something, and when I find out, I will expose it. Am really pissed. *Take a deep breath*
Dear Davy Jones, forget everything I said yesterday, I actually love my brother. He is the only sibling I have and I always want him to be happy. So, he has been behaving weird these days. Don’t give me that look. I have been buried in them cheesy romance novels but that doesn’t mean I have been oblivious. I have duties and responsibilities as the eldest child, and only girl. What?
Fortunately or unfortunately for me, my parents are yet to resume work – till next week. So, as I walk tiptoe past their room, the temptation to eavesdrop is overwhelming. I blush –Nigerian context – as I lose my footing and hit the door with my left shoulder. My mum calls out, ‘Mayen!!! What’s all the noise about’’. ‘Errr… I need money to buy credit and I was wondering if I could….’ My mum didn’t let me finish. ‘Is that why you wanted to break the door?’ I bite my tongue as I return with a contrite, ‘I am sorry mum. Dad, Good Morning”. I return to my room shuddering as I think of what I may have interrupted.
The bell of the LAwMA guys arouses me from my lazy haze. I scream for my brother. ‘Donald!!! The LAwMA guys are here. Go and get the dustbin.’ After several minutes, I don’t get any response. I don’t even hear the sound of his door. I stalk out of my room vowing to deal with him for undermining my authority. I get the bin from the kitchen and the one in my room. I empty them into the general bin and I begin to drag the bin towards the end of the street. Those retards keep parking their vehicle at the end of the street. I feel steam coming out of my ears. MY brother is so going to pay. I put my nose in the air, ignoring my hairnet and shapeless Pjs as I Trudge on. I imagine the guys on my street are having a field day at my expense. As if that Is not enough, One frail old woman dumps her refuse on me as I try to avoid the sweaty armpit of one of the Lawma guys. I am about to release my fury when I see the old woman struggling to get back her bag from the vehicle before that rolling thing swallows it. I tell her to move back before she is crushed by refuse and people. People are so retarded. I am short, yeah; but that gives you no right to throw refuse over my head. I dip my hand in the refuse thingy, without thinking. I retrieve the Bagco Bag and retrieve my dustbin. The Other Lastma guy ogling me needed little persuasion to empty it. He let his hand linger too long when giving me the dustbin. At this point, I am more weak than angry. I give the woman her bag. My left hand, my whole body actually, smells like a compost pit. Jesus! Do people defeacate in their dustbins or something?
I get home and wash my hands first. The harmattan makes me thing twice about having my bath. So I put on the electric kettle. Thank God, NEPA decided to have small sense. I stay on the floor and look longingly at my bed. Donald comes into my room, without knocking. Seriously, I am really going to kill him. But His face looks white and ghostly and his eyes are red. He sits beside me and I put my arms around his shoulders. He is sobbing softly in my laps. My eyes begin to water too. After ten minutes of the heavy rain, he looks at me.
‘You smell like those Lawma trucks’
I laugh and reply with, ‘Res Ipsa’. He looks into his palms.
‘I sold my playstation’. That hit me like a ton of bricks. I scream,’What!!! Which One? (The only one -_-) The one I bought for you?’ He nodded before he continued. ‘It was Jessica. You see, I wanted to get her going-away present. So, I saved up a little money, and added it to what I got and bought her a Samsung Note’. I hold my breath as I wait to hear the rest. ‘She has been banging Taopheek all along. She said she was way out of my league. I was really into her.’ I sigh. Taopheek is a Babcock guy and I think that’s child abuse. Jessica is fifteen like my brother. He starts crying again. ‘ I f-ffeel like a fool. My self esteem and my reps are gone’. I hold him more closely. I am really clueless and for the first time in a long time I don’t even know what to say. He raises his head. ‘This is really weird’ He continues before I can disagree. ‘So, you are not mad about the Playstation?’ I shake my head. ‘You know, my birthday is a few months away, I will be sixteen’ I wave my index finger at him. ‘You get nothing from me this year, okay? Go and tell your parents’. He gets up and walks to the door and I am thinking about how I may not be a bad sister after all. He looks pointedly at my chest. ‘ Mayen, did you go out like that?’ I look at him blankly. He rolls his eyes. ‘Like without a bra? I am not a pervert, but please don’t do it again. Olympus has fallen”. He flees my room but not before my novel hits him squarely in the face. ‘Ouch!!!”
The mirror beckons and the scales fall out of my eyes. Olympus has really fallen…