The Robbery

It is 5:00pm in Banana Town.

The shoes neatly stacked in rows demarcated by their sizes and colours.

I bend over cleaning and dusting. Leaving them out to dry, I take a walk around the state.


Later in the day, I am packing the shoes, I hear the honking of a horn. I rush to the gate, it was my tenant.

He drives in.

‘Sisi’, he calls out to me, ”this one wey you pack out these shoes, abi you wan begin sell dem”. I laugh, noooooooooo, na sanitation I dey oooo, I reply.

It is 8:15pm.

He walks towards the gate. Just then two men majestically walks in. Holding guns.

I gasp for breathe. I am sweating profusely like the temperature has been raised high. My legs wobble as I look on in awe.

For safety, I throw my phone to a safe hideout.

It is 8:07pm.

”Wey the money, wey the money” they ask just before I hear the gun shot.

Gradually, I tiptoe backwards to the back of the house to safely secure my little teenage head.

Shouts of ‘my belle o, my belle’ fill the air.

Fear paralyses me where I am hiding.

It is 9:30pm.

I am still hiding.

Are they still here. I can’t tell. I struggle to hold my breath.

I sneak out gradually when I hear familiar voices.

Few hours later. I hear there was a surgery.

The bullet was seen lying peacefully inside big moulds of ”fufu” in my tenants stomach.

I thank God.

#Moral of the story-

eat fufu as dinner and bullets will be found hidden within.