“Jags”, the voice over the line said…
“Yea”, i replied sleepily, my voice crackled as i mused.
“I need you to do me a favour” he said. I could hear the desperation in his voice. “What could be this guy’s wahala again na?” ,i thought to myself.
“I’m listening” i said, as i rolled over on my bed. Obviously i was angry, and i had every
reason to be. Saturday morning is the only time i get to sleep for as long as i wanted and i cherished it like a wife. “Where this one carry him wahala come from sef?” I muttered to myself.
“I’m at a wedding in Uloho Avenue. We’re about to begin procession right now. The problem is, their keyboardist just called now that they rushed his mum to the hospital. Can u please come and play?.”
Not again, i thought to myself. I shrugged and sat upright on my bed.
“Okay…No problem”, i replied, contorting my face. It was unacceptable that someone just disturbed my saturday morning sleep and more so when the person didnt give me prior knowledge. But then that person was my musical director. It made it kind of difficult
to say no to him each time he called me without notice.Despite the fact that i was rewarded handsomely in every ocassion, it didnt stop me from getting angry each time he booty-calls
me.
He told me to get ready quickly cos a car was coming to pick me up, said ‘thank you’ like, 3 or 4 times, then hung up.
I dropped the phone and jumped out of bed. As i made towards the bathroom i bumped into my mum.
“Where are u going?” She asked suprised to see
me up that early(well late in some people’s world since it was 9:48).
“Digwo”, i greeted her firstly…
“Vre do”, she replied,looking at my haggard shape.
I told her the story as i grabbed my brush and paste. She shrugged and said “na u sabi” , and walked off towards her room.
I ran to the bathroom. Sleep had fled.
The driver horned again, this time with more impatience.
“I’m coming oh” i shouted back.
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