My Landlord And I…

This story is about my journey from butter land to Pako land. Growing up was fun; I had all I needed at my fingertips (almost), but then my dad died when I was in my final year at the University. This is not another Cinderella story…one ugly man married my mum and life became “unrosy”. Fortunately for me, I got a good job after my service year, so I didn’t have to live with my mum and her ugly husband for another year. Although it took me forever to get an apartment, I finally secured one in Mushin and surprisingly I met my landlord a month after I had moved in. I was told he had gone to visit his mother in the village, but when I finally laid eyes on him, I wished he had never returned.

REWIND…by good job, I meant one that secured me a Mini-flat in Mushin. I was raised to mostly ignore people and not engage them. My mother always told me “only thugs raise their voice and fight”; these made me ignore my landlord’s madness at first, until I met Apollo who opened my eyes.  A week after landlord Mumuni returned from the village, he asked his personal assistant to inform the tenants that the early ‘Morning Prayer’ would start soon. I tried asking him for an explanation, “is there a church that I am not aware of in the compound?” “Patience, you will find out soon” replied the P.A.

The first morning prayer was on a Monday morning, on this wonderful day, I found out the real nature of my neighbours. Strangely, they all believed that any misfortune that befalls them is caused by one of their neighbours. As at 4.00am I heard the sound of a gong (alas! I had only read and seen that in social studies text book). I peeped through my window, and saw my neighbours trooping out of their flats. The prayer started. …

O God, my enemy must die!!!

Ma je ko di ola, oluwa mi

Die die die!!!

(Iya Nuru)

Today, tomorrow, next tomorrow

Whenever you find time

But don’t let my enemy kill me before you do!!!

Die! Die!!!

(Iya Shade)

It took me a while to figure out that the neighbours directed their prayers towards each other, I stood by my window and watched has they performed their ‘early morning prayers’ promising myself never to partake in this. Few minutes later, I heard a knock on my door, It was landlord Mumuni, “Mr. Philip, why are you not out there? You don’t want to miss out on this life changing prayer session, do you know that God answer prayers more at this hour? And we also need to welcome you with prayers” This last statement made me picture my life in Orile Iganmu in a self contain with a landlord worse than Landlord Mumuni. (this type of prayer can only do one thing,destroy lives!). There was no way I was going to stay in the midst of these people and let them point fingers at me. There it was, even though I didn’t know where it came from, the dumbest lie ever….   ‘’I am a Muslim”.

At around 7.00am, my neighbours were ready for work and no one would have guessed what happened by 4.00am. One of them asked why I was not at the prayer, I told her that I am a Muslim and the look she gave me still taunts me till date.

I thought I had seen it all…the unusual prayer session but I was a taught a lesson soon enough. I came home one evening after work and met my standing fan in a new position. Asides the standing fan everything seemed normal, and then I opened the door to my room…My shirts were on the floor. You don’t understand! My designer shirts that I had funds to acquire when I was in school, you don’t understand! I plan to continue wearing them until someone pulls them off because by then it would have gone back to the maker.

I stormed out of my flat to Landlord Mumuni’s, his door was wide opened so I could hear some people discussing me. “I don’t think we would have a problem with Philip, I am just scared of young men who look quiet and always do what you ask of them’’ said Mr. Israel “Is that what you are worried about, he’s a Muslim aka Bokoharam, hmmm…’’added David. After I learnt the reason my room was tampered with, I stormed in with so much rage but these were the only words I could utter;

“This is so unfair, what did I ever do to you to deserve this, I cherish those shirts you flung around my room more than this hell-hole you call a house”

INTERMISSION

Yes that was my response to this horrible incident, what happened to privacy? My landlord gave my neighbours a spare key to search my room because he needed to confirm if I was a terrorist, and the only insult I could utter was hell hole!… Are you amazed because I am, a 26 years old Nigerian man!. Another amazing thing that happened was that after lamenting like a girl (no offence) my neighbours, including Landlord Mumuni had the expression that said….o rindin sha o. They all apologized  carelessly, as stupid as I was, I knew I had just been slapped 250 times, my self-esteem had just been washed off with hot water. At this point, I knew I had to upgrade, but how? I pondered as I left with shame.

After this embarrassing incident, I started keeping to myself. It’s not like I had a kind of bond or relationship with them before. I just could not look them in the face out of shame plus you know how news spread in this kind of environment, I could not go anywhere in the compound without being laughed at. My neighbour Mama Uju paid me a visit one Saturday Morning, the same Mama Uju that was asked to pay back her debt after 2 months by her neighbour and instead of paying back or even promise to do so, she got into a fight with her. She claimed she had just borrowed it 2 weeks ago and that she will pay whenever she has the money. Yes! the same Mama Uju is now in front of my door, “Well done o, hope you are okay, please can I borrow 5,000 and I promise to pay back in 2 months time” I used all the polite grammar I had learnt in my etiquette class in primary school just to avoid any brawl. Lo and behold, it worked! She smiled and left me in peace.
A week later, Mama Uju was in front of my door again, this time, she was on a bra and skirt, (this was how I met my guardian angel,Apollo) “Bros I don come back o, Shey I fit get that money now”. The next thing I noticed was mama Uju running round the compound…..Apollo with a traveling bag in one hand and a cane in the other. Apollo walked up to me; “hi, you must be the new neighbour, I am Apollo”. My mouth was agape for a long time, and when I finally got myself, the first thing I said was thank you.

Later in the evening, Apollo paid me a visit. “I traveled to Ibadan to visit my parents; I enjoyed myself so much that I exhausted my leave.” I didn’t ask him any of these, I just offered him a seat, not that he needed my permission. “You see, I used be like you, vulnerable, quiet and VGlicious, but these people are mad, I mean really mad, so I had to toughen up”.

”Yoruba will say, were ni won fi wo were”,

I didn’t understand the last statement but I knew I had to be like Apollo. “so what’s your name VGlicious?” Jeremy, I answered. “That’s the beginning of your problems as long as you live in this house, Jeremy ke? No be Muslim you be?” “ehmm, I lied about that, I was not interested in their strange method of praying” He laughed so hard I became scared. “Well, that simply means you are trainable…so when do you want to start?” Right away, I answered eagerly

After 3 months of being tutored by Apollo, I knew I had to leave before someone kills me.
All my intention was to toughen up so none of my neighbours could push me around. I never thought that my lessons and practice as a student of Apollo will yield any fruit, at least not yet. Very early one Monday morning, I went out of my room to get a bucket of water. While I was waiting for my bucket to get filled up, I decided to go in and get another bucket. When I got back to the general tap, my bucket was no where to be found, coincidentally, Apollo came to fetch a bucket of water and saw me looking round the compound for my bucket. “That person has just taken advantage of you, mainly because you are  VGlicious, he is in a hurry to get to work and so are you, so what are you going to do?” I really need to get to work early today, I will look for the bucket later, I replied. “That’s why they will keep doing this to you, the best way to do this is to stay back and fight!”

”How do I do that, I do not know the person with my bucket”,

(Apollo replied almost immediately) “fortunately I do, there are just three tenants capable of this and they have specific days for acting this way”. Before he could reveal Kola’s name, we saw him returning with the bucket, ”I am so sorry, this must belong to you, I was pressed and could not wait. “What do you mean you could not wait, so I can wait? That’s selfishness” I found my self saying all these and so much more. I was putting into practice what Apollo had taught me: ”don’t let them land, that shows that you are angry”. All of a sudden, I felt my head spin a while, and something tasted like blood in my mouth… I had just been punched twice without alert or warning! Apollo was there to ginger me, ignoring how miserable I was feeling, I got into a fight with Kola, and when Apollo saw that I could die if he didn’t do something, he separated us.

There was no way I could have gone to the office, instead I spent the whole day in a clinic beside the house. Although this brawl had earned some respect from my neighbours, I had to leave Apollo and my neighbours behind. It was hard getting a new apartment, with so much shame, I begged my mother to allow me stay until I got a place to stay.

Maja Kehinde