By Adewale Ajayi
On the eve of the Aisha Buhari Cup, he littered social media with pictures of his departure from Abuja and added more as he arrived Lagos, brimming with smiles ahead of the competition that was put together to encourage the girl child, not some retired deacons dressed in borrowed robes.
His teeth glittered out of his heavy lips, his brown shoes looked wornout after another tiring journey but he gathered himself together quickly to perch in a chalet close to Abayomi street in Ojuelegba.
At night, he sat outside for some fresh air, as dirty prostitutes in their various sizes came calling. They dropped the signs, they whistled and smiled at the hungry deacon but he was lifeless where he sat. He has not eaten all day. He needed some rest but the hotel was in total darkness. PHCN just took the light and they don’t put on the generator once it is 12am.
Mosquitoes that looks like flies came visiting, they sang songs of praise in his ears and for the first time, a deacon became bored of praises.
He looked at the prostitutes with rapt attention, his manhood was relaxed because of lack of cash-backing and perhaps because tomorrow was not yet guaranteed.
The next morning, he took off early for the Onikan stadium, met *A man that God has always blessed* and told him his story. The response he got, was an indication that all that glitters may no longer be gold.
In Seven days, he labored in vain to be happy, but every passing day, left with it’s sad memories. At the end, Nigeria lost to South Africa and everyone disappeared into thin air. NFF officials wore gloomy faces as if we just lost a World Cup final.
The next morning, Lagos was empty. Everyone has returned to base, leaving our dear deacon in a world of uncertainty. He barely had 10,000 naira left on him, he went to his 2,000 naira chalet in Ojuelegba, paid for the previous night and had 8,000 naira left.
He trekked from Ojuelegba to Jibowu to catch the last ABC Bus but they were all gone. He sat perplexed and the tears dropped.
At that point, he laid a curse on that spirit that advised him to embark on this fruitless journey of no assurances. He looked to the north, south, east and west, help was not forthcoming. He pulled off his shoes, cleaned them, look at the sole of the shoes again and said to himself, father, onto your hands, I commit this journey.
He took off on Tuesday night and as at this morning, he was seen somewhere around Molete in Ibadan, looking so exhausted.
For every mile he covers, he drops a curse on ABC and CKD.
From this end, we can only wish him safe journey to Abuja.