Life here in Benegota can sometimes feel like something out of the ordinary. From a far distance, it looks like a peaceful town with normal people. Just a step closer, and you will know why it is called Benegota.
The people here all claim to be "civilized", but let's be honest, they are just a bunch of wild animals in suits. It would have been better if this was a zoo, at least, one would know that we are dealing with creatures beyond our control.
Every day came with its own trouble. From the usual banter between the ladies on who looks more beautiful (coughs), to the guys lavishing their life savings on sports (mostly ends in tears, but they never learn). There is always something new about the city. I can't believe I got caught up in all these. Sometimes, it is safe to say that I am the only sane person here.
My name is Daniel, and I live in a rented apartment (coughs), sorry bungalow (yeah, that one that's called "face-me, I-slap-you", I'm ashamed). It's not my fault, life hasn't really been fair to a fresh graduate like me.
But enough about me. Here I am, preparing for a job interview in one of the biggest firms around. It's my chance to make a meaning out of my life. At least, I'd be busy, and not have to deal with all these nosy neighbours.
You never really have any privacy here. We make use of public bathrooms, and it's frustrating having a running stomach, and rushing to the toilet, only to see about seven to eight people waiting in line, clutching their belly. Tears would fill your eyes, and you would end up using nylon.
Imagine! Someone once snapped me mid-poo. A man of my pedigree. You see why I say they are not normal.
I looked at myself in the mirror a couple of times to ensure I looked good. I adjusted my tie, buttoned my shirt, and clicked my tongue. American style.
Just as I was about to step out, my neighbour, James, made sure to open his door, so as to let the fresh scent of fried rice and chicken find its way into everyone's room, just to frustrate us.
Yeah, that's what I am passing through in the hands of my so-called neighbors. Everyone is trying to act as though they are better than the other, meanwhile, we are all broke, living in a yard that even a chicken would see as an insult.
It's that bad. I decided to ignore, and walked down the hallway, into the open area, where the fresh morning breeze graced my skin. It felt good.
But then, the scent of the fried chicken had followed me to the open space. My mouth had become watery.
One of these days, we are going to run James out of town. It's going to be sooner than he thinks.
I walked out the gate, and greeted my next-door neighbor, Mama Nkechi, who happened to have returned from having purchased some food ingredients. She didn't bother to reply, but rather hissed, and shoved me out of her way to get into the compound.
I don't really understand her beef with me. I do have a feeling it's because I had helped her daughter, Nkechi, with her maths homework. 6 strokes for whoever scored zero, and she ended up receiving 18. I doubt if those teachers are professionals.
It's not my business.
I walked out the gate, looking as dashing as can be. I looked left and right, but saw no one. The streets looked empty as though it had been deserted.
Now that I am in my best attire, no one is on the streets. But whenever I dress like a wretched boy who life has dealt with, I'd see all my past classmates from secondary school, that cute girl everyone's talking about, and that teacher that said I won't make it.
But I wasn't going to let that ruin my day.
I set out to the bus-stop, and flagged down a taxi. Sorry, I mean danfo bus. I got in after negotiating with the driver, and after moving a few yards from where I stood, a military officer entered. He decided to sit close to me.
The journey proceeded, and the military officer kept swinging his hands from side-to-side seemingly wanting to get a network. At one point, his strong arms had hit me in the face, and all I got was "sorry".
I decided to help him get a network, and asked for his phone. He handed me a clean Iphone 16 pro. I felt like a law abiding citizen, and decided to stick my head out the window to search for a network.
While searching for the network, I received a hot slap right across the cheeks, and in an instant, the phone was snatched by a guy on a bike. I froze because it felt more like a dream, than reality. By the time I had recovered from the shock, the thief and the phone were gone.
Classic Benegota.
I have been in the same spot for the past 10 minutes, unable to put my head back in. I'm pretty sure those walking would be wondering what was wrong with me.
If only they knew I was about to enter a lot.
The military officer has been tapping me to hand him his phone, saying that he wants to make an important call. What call would you want to make that is more important than what I have gotten myself into?
Tears flowed freely from my eyes. From job seeking to prison, from law abiding citizen to accomplice.
That is what is known as "Benegota happened". I can't go to prison, I have heard that the criminals there are not smiling this time of the year.
I should have just been at home, being frustrated by James. It would have been far better than what I am in right now.
The tapping was becoming too much. I decided to be a man and accept my fate. I stuck my head back in, and he stretched out his hand, ready to collect his phone.
"Sir, I'm so sorry. It wasn't my fault. I tried to stop them. One guy snatched the phone from…"
That was the last word I could remember saying before everywhere went pitch black. I kept hearing shouts, especially from women.
The entire bus was in commotion. I couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything. Just numb.
What's going on?
I began regaining consciousness, and found myself surrounded by people, all looking at me with panic on their faces. I was on the ground, with one eye swollen beyond recognition. The people kept tapping me, even though I was partially conscious.
I rolled my eyeballs towards the left, only to see someone bringing a long stick, those big fat long ones. I wanted to scream but I couldn't, my mouth numb.
I kept hearing, "Flog him, maybe he will wake up."
What! Flog who? With that thing?
Whiam!
The fat cane landed on my legs, sending a surge of pain through my body. I couldn't move or defend myself. I could only cry internally.
Whiam! Whiam! Whiam!
It kept coming, one after another. It was as though they were flogging a stubborn goat. The guy kept lashing me with all his strength, as though I knew something about what he was passing through.
Finally, with a loud shout, I broke out of my subconscious state. I screamed at the top of my voice, shedding hot tears. These people were happy and cheering one another, saying I was shedding tears of joy.
Which joy?
If it were you, would you have joy?
It didn't seem to bother them that I was feeling pain, but they were just happy with their achievement. I mean, who uses a cane to wake up an unconscious person?
As for the military officer, he was standing right next to me, with a smirk on his face. The once happy people looked at me with so much anger in their eyes. I was wondering what was happening, until I remembered the phone.
I tried to explain, but not before receiving three hot slaps. My eyes were swollen, and they were still slapping me after everything.
I looked back, and saw them bringing tyres and fuel. My heart skipped three beats.
The military officer refused them from using jungle justice on me, and rather took me to his barracks.
From interview to barracks.
This day couldn't get any worse.
We got to the barracks, and I was kept in the guard room, still on my suit, my shirt rumpled and tie shifted to the left. Various soldiers came in to inspect me and left. Even the women looked like giants, each flexing their muscles, so I could take a look at what would handle me any moment.
Mercy? That was far from their dictionary. I doubt it exists to them.
I have explained, I have begged. But the more I explain, the more I sound like an accomplice. They have asked me to confess, one said I resemble the guy that stole his phone last weekend.
I have pleaded.
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
After five hours of asking me to confess, three uppercuts and five punches on target, the solider got a call that the real thief had been caught, and I was innocent.
After my eyes were swollen?
They untied me, and apologized. Shook my hands, and told me I was free to go.
Just like that?
No compensation, nothing?
It's not that I can't sue them, but sometimes, it's good to let things go.
My interview?
Ruined.
My day?
Could have been worse.
You right now?
Probably laughing or smiling at my predicament.
I might not have been able to attend the interview today, but I sure would try to look for a job elsewhere. No food at home, bruises all over my body, my account balance crying out for help.
Indeed,
life here is like a spoon.
But this isn't the end, my story continues.
Get ready, grab your popcorn.
Because the fun never ends.