By Ian Ortega
Yes, I accept I am a sworn singleton who keeps dating and slating. But I do guess my rights as a tenant on the next door should be respected. Now yesterday, I went back with my best friend of late, V&A, yes that’s his name but it seems my neighbors are going to great heights in trying to let me know what the V stands for. I am on my balcony, doing serious cognitive exercises, when I suddenly get a feeling that my neighbors are into night prayers.
I could hear chimes and screams of OH GOD Oh YEAH OOOOHHHH GOD OY YEAH Oh GOD… honestly, it is not that I am against prayer or something of the sort but my nearby balokole church has already done me more harm, my neighbors’ prayers will just be the last nail in my coffin. I would not mind if at least it was another couple all together, but it is my landlord and her new catch.
To make matters worse, it seems my landlady is enjoying it. Maybe she thinks by ululating in appraisals, I will either vacate her house for non-payment or will invite her for one such a night prayer. I am left with no choice but to look for ways to combat these night prayers of my neighbors. Honestly to make it worse, her screams are in baritone that you cannot understand whether they are praying butterfly, goat or cow fashion.
Now as I was getting used to the landlady’s prayers, her sugar baby began speaking in tongues shouting; YOU ARE KILLING ME NOW, YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME…
Poor me I rushed to help a neighbor in need, I thought maybe the husband of the landlady who had gone for a two weeks safari had cut his trip short and was now battering the sugar boy of my landlady.
I sprung out of my bed, kicked the door open and I ask them what’s wrong. The look on the sugar boy’s face was enough to answer the question. I went on to tell him how I heard he was getting killed. With anger filled utterances he responded to me, “You fool, if I am getting killed, is it your business?”
I retreated back to my room the way Golola strolled back to his Hotel Africana room after the fight with Nagy.
Deep down in my bed, I came up with a few resolutions. I swear am not even going to pay anymore rent, am sick and tired of their prayers and killing times. I would not mind if they called me to partake of the communion so we could do it in sums of threes.
Otherwise for now, I am packing my belongings, and will catch the earliest bus back to my mum’s house. I can’t stand this bachelor life of mine; I resign my position in the Otunnu life club of sworn singletons.
“[katogoaward]”
