The Good Life serialization continues 6
“Maybe.”
“I hope she won’t be the end of
you here. What if the boss also has the hots for her? And then finds out you do
as well. He’ll roast you alive.”
Uba’s response surprised even
himself. “I don’t care. I wouldn’t mind anything that happens to me so long as
I have her.”
“It’s that bad?” Kanmi clucked
sympathetically. “I think you just need to get married.”
Uba never responded to prompts
that he should get married, when was he going to marry and all that. He did so
only with his family who were on his neck as well and his standard response was
he would get married when God said he should.
He proceeded to his desk in the
far corner. His leather top was devoid of any artifacts or papers – except his
name plate – because he had locked them into the drawers at the close of work
for the weekend. Now, he started bringing them out and rearranging them back.
Kanmi was sorting the agents’
mail which had been dumped on his desk certainly because it was closest to the
door. His desk as a receptacle for their external correspondence sometimes
irritated him even though it only happened with their mails that came in on the
weekend and the security guards who shared the weekend mails always placed them
on the desks closest to the doors.
“They’ve put all our mail on my
desk again,” he groaned. “You got two letters here, boy.”
Uba had finished the chore he
commissioned himself. He made as if to stand up but didn’t. “Bring them over,
fine boy.”
“Not on your life,” Kanmi
retorted.
Uba grinned and then really got
to his feet. The hunger pangs struck him hard just as he picked his letters
from the four groups Kanmi had separated the pile into. He stuffed them into
his right jacket pocket.
“I’m going for breakfast, fine
boy. Be back soon.”
Kanmi smiled. “I’ll keep that in
mind.”
Uba advanced up the street to a
red double freight container which had been converted into a canteen. There
were tables and cushioned chairs in it with a deep freezer in the background.
He ordered black amala with vegetable leaf soup and chunky pieces of beef and
turkey wings. He ate it in the traditional way using the five fingers of his
right hand.
He always ate local dishes with
his fingers, no matter where he was. They were best enjoyed that way, the way
the African forefathers used to eat them, and he always pitied Nigerians who
used cutleries to eat all their meals. Use cutleries for foreign meals, was his
own thinking, the clumsy things.
Note: This is the sixth page of the Oseyiza Oogbodo book, The Good Life. More excerpts to follow
on this blog. Its weekly serialization began some weeks ago but began again due
to some hitches. It's also available on Amazon and many other stores through the
links below. Other Oogbodo books available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo,
Scribd, Dang Dang and other stores are Short
Story Galore, and The Newell Murder.
https://www.books2read.com/u/mgLRgK
www.amazon.com/dp/B07DM3KC4S
www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07DM3KC4S
www.amazon.fr/dp/B07DM3KC4S
www.amazon.it/dp/B07DM3KC4S
www.amazon.es/dp/B07DM3KC4S
www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B07DM3KC4S
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