Letter to Ochuko

My dear Ochuko, I am very sorry you ended up this way. You never concealed your feelings. You behaved like those uncircumcised male goats that flocked around my backyard and put their noses into the smelling buttocks of their female partners.


Ochuko, anytime a lady passes by, you never ceased to express your lustful desires. And with your huge head you approached these ladies. I don’t know how you did it but after spending some few minutes with them, they would smile, opening their teeth like a starved squirrel and give you their contacts. Just like that!

Ochuko, I never had problems with this your habit. Not at all. I minded my business. And you minded yours. But not until you decided to try your voodoo on my sister, my very own sister. After all my warnings Ochuko, you still could not tame that black carrot that dangled between your legs. Instead, you used your spiritual complications to force her phone number out of her.

I collected your phone and deleted her contact from it. But unknown to me, your huge head had enough memory to store her number. And immediately I left, you refilled her contact. Ochuko, If only you could use those memory spaces to store bible verses or even use them to continue your education. But you couldn’t. Your teacher had complained that you couldn’t even spell your name correctly. It is this same water melon head of yours that couldn’t spell your name that is able to cram ladies numbers. Malu.

All would have been well Ochuko, but you went around bragging about what you did to my sister. You even told Fergor the barber of your new conquest. As soon as I heard about your ranting, Ochuko, I came to you demanding an explanation but instead of saying something that could at least prolong your life for maybe another week, you spate out these naked words; “Na you wan marry your sister?” I got livid.

I quickly took the fastest route to my kitchen. I came with rage and stabbed you on your shoulder. But you kept threatening me. Many persons came to your rescue and said that I should drop the knife. I did Ochuko. I did. But you thought you were stronger than I was. You quickly went, broke a Gulder bottle and started running towards me with the sharp edges.

But Ochuko why? Why would you think that even if I would die by bottle, it would be an alcoholic bottle? I am a Christian and I don’t drink alcohol.

But as you ran towards me Ochuko, I took my knife from Fergor the barber, the one you explained all your lies to, the hungry looking Fergor, the one that have a neck like the circumference of a Pepsi bottle; and quickly gave you another cut in the stomach.

Immediately, your intestine gushed out. They were white. I actually thought nothing about you could be white; your white singlet had been dyed black by your chaotic dirty attitude. But I was wrong, your intestine was white. It was white like the inside of a coconut. After some more stabbings, your large intestine came out, these ones were like those big flat deflated balloons. They had mucous on them. They were whiter than your soul.

This piece is a fictionalized account of a true life story. The characters used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarities to real persons living or dead is coincidental.

Fegor

Happy birthday to my real guy, Okwori Fegor, wish you many years ahead even as you become plus one today. Enjoy your day.

© Ezekiel Efeobhokhan
600 pharmacy UNIBEN

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