A BLOSSOM FAIR

Kingsley had just landed at the local wing of the Murtala Mohammed Airport in Lagos from Kaduna. It had been a hectic nine months shuttling between work at the brewery and home, then welcoming a newborn baby over the period.

No matter where he finds himself, Lagos is always home. The feeling that comes with being in this city is inexplicable. The fibre of his being is in tune with the razzmatazz that is Lagos and at this moment the gathering cloud of the coming rainfall seems not to have any effect on the blazing sun and the attendant heat from the scorched tar that leads outside the airport to the streets of Ikeja and the world that is LAGOS.

A quick dash to Allen Avenue or a visit to an ailing uncle at Opebi would just be ample, but suddenly the thought of Uncle Okafor on his sick bed reminded Kingsley of his old-time friend from Federal Government College Warri. Kingsley has had a special bond with Oke right from their High school days, maybe it’s the FESTAC connection or maybe it’s just the way their spirits clicked. 

Although they belonged to different hostels, they had managed to share beds sometimes while alternating rooms at other times and in the process made a common set of mutual friends, and it had remained so all through the years, even after Oke left the school untimely for health reasons.

Kingsley checked his Phone, now running out of airtime, and opened up his online bank platform to recharge his airtime, dialled the number and on the other end was the same spirited voice of his friend with a soft “hello”.   “Guy, I just entered town a few minutes ago. How are you doing?” Kingsley asked with some concern in his voice. Oke paused for a second or two and said calmly, ” Bro, I just dey but you no go understand”

Over time, Kingsley had come to understand that Oke doesn’t talk much about his situation, but to sound this way, then something must not be alright.

“I be wan see my uncle for Opebi before, but I go see am later. Where you dey?”

Oke responded in the most relieved but assured monosyllable Kingsley had heard in a while, “Home”.

Immediately after the call, plans changed. Kingsley tapped the Uber App on his phone and made the unscheduled trip to FESTAC to go see Oke.  In a few moments, a Toyota Camry with a beautiful lady drove down and in one soothing but business voice said, ” Ore mi are you the one that booked me on Uber?” Kingsley simply nodded, got into the car and in a few minutes he was on his way to see Oke. 

The Uber driver, a light-skinned lady in her mid-forties, was in the mood to gist to make the ride enjoyable for Kingsley, but brother was in no mood for any conversation as all his mind was focused on his dear friend. He had never heard him sound like that, and the thought of what he may be going through sent chills down his spine and he whispered a silent prayer to Mother Mary.

Much of Lagos now looked different, but that meant nothing to Kingsley at the moment as his mind was lost to the universe in a mixture of hallowed and scary thoughts.

The time it took to get to FESTAC from Ikeja seemed like a million years and a second in Kingsley’s mind at the same but as he finally arrived at Oke’s house, he said a polite thank you to the driver who was already sure the young man was in no mood for niceties and he walked straight to his destination without even acknowledging the greetings of neighbours whose looks said more than he could imagine at the moment.

A gentle knock on the door, and it gave way as it was already ajar before he walked in. Right in front of him as he got in was Oke. Tears almost welled up in his eyes, but the cheerful smile on Oke’s face and a poignant “Kingslo!!” brought life back to his face as the three exchanged pleasantries with Oke’s mum watching silently with a smile on her face.

Two brothers sat down to catch up and discuss life. Oke had been diagnosed with Diabetes during his days in secondary school, and he was withdrawn from school for close monitoring and care. Little was heard of him as the years went by and his mates graduated and left for different journeys.

As the years went by, Oke’s condition got worse, and most of his former schoolmates were not aware until it became unbearable for his family to handle alone. There was a national outcry to save the young and promising man’s life, and the cause was duly championed by one of his contemporaries in school, Kevwe Rughere, a lady with some clout and outreach. 

It didn’t take long before the news of his condition caught the attention of some other influential old students of our school, and in a short while, reprieve came, and things got better, or so we all thought until now.

Kingsley held the hands of Oke and told him blankly, “Brother, I need to reach out to some of our guys to see what they can do”. At these words, Oke lifted his head as if to comfort Kingsley, ” Guy, don’t forget that we will always win”

“We will always win”. These words echoed in Kingsley’s head again as he remembered the first time Oke said those words.

It was a football match between the J.S.S. 2 students and those of us who had just entered the school. They played us silly in the first half, and we were losing 2-0, then Oke was introduced in the second half, and before he got in, he said those words with the belief of a talisman at the prime of his trade.

We all took the words with a pinch of salt, but in a few minutes, the “baddest” lefty Ocho had scored a goal, and a mesmerising move by Oke from the right flank led to the equaliser.

While we were jubilating that we had equalised, the J.S.S.2 boys were getting impatient that they were not pummelling us as they had expected in the second half and in a moment of anxiety, their goalkeeper fouled Onome, our striker, in their penalty area with just under two minutes to the end of the match.

Oke stepped forward and calmly sent the goalkeeper the wrong way, and that was the final moment of the match as we all ran onto the field and held his shoulder high.

Those same legs are laboured in pain today, but the hope in his words and the twinkle in his eyes remind me of Opoto, our Principal at the time, who always says, “Your best friends for life are the ones you make here”.