STILL WATERS

Yemisi, Iyalode's daughter was just a step above adolescence when she discovered boys. The attention tickled the nape of her neck and filled a hole in her soul that ten-ten could not. Yemisi would cock her small hips dangerously left and dangerously right as she walked on by. She would tilt her nose when strangers whistled 'fine girl', 'look here', refusing to bless the cat callers with her attention while basking in theirs. And would break into songs of laughter when boys like Alani gave her cheap bracelets they bought with money stolen from their mother's purses.

It is true that she publicly rebuked Alani when news filtered that he emptied his father's pouch. But Yemisi had such harsh words coming from a mouth dressed in lipstick that Alani bought.

Yemisi would lead the boys on with sweet words of endearment, teenage boys who have grown tired of their mother's affection would find shelter in her demure. Her graceful face never ran out of smiles to donate. She would take her fair palm to her mouth and plant a kiss upon it. She would blow it to them and the boys would swoon among themselves, each savouring a droplet of manliness.

Yemisi would never admit she courted men but often times she would be seen in the company of a man--- and a man--- and a man. But no, never men. She distributed her jovial personality equally and satisfied whoever hungered to get a taste.

The rumour mills were full and exhausted from churning out gists of her escapades. 'She did it in the back of a truck with the Court Clerk' Labake whispered to her friends. 'I heard her screaming in the bush with the palm wine tapper' Tolani narrated her own version. And the whole village watched on, waiting for time to bring Yemisi's dirty linen to the fore.

And time manifested indeed; in Labake's stomach and the whole village was in disarray as to the face behind the deed.  Not a month after, Tolani's stomach bulged and everybody went ballistic with tittle-tattle about the father.

The two girls fingered Dotun, the shoemaker but he swore on his late father that he was not responsible. Dotun professed that the only thing his thing could do was piss and nothing else. What is erect? Erect was an alien concept to him.  The whole village waited for the two girls to bear the unknown man's seed but, it truly was no surprise as both babies had a cleft in their chin the way Dotun had and their skin looked like they were dipped in darkness.... like Dotun was. And that was the day he became a man.

This drew the attention away from Yemisi for a while, but the eyes eventually rolled back, pumping rumours relentlessly into the social circle. Now, Yemisi taught Labake and Tolani but didn't teach them well. Now, Yemisi does it worse than everybody else but she is infertile so pregnancy is impossible.

Iyalode had had it up to her clavicle. Her ears had become so full that words would occasionally fall onto the floor. She would drum it into Yemisi's ears to refrain from boys, or else, she and her daughter would squeeze into one trouser and try to walk in it. And her father would peer through his thick rimmed glasses, lower his newspaper and hold his peace, using his silence to agree with his wife.

But Yemisi remained undaunted. She still swung her hips to the rhythm of her steps and the rumours that followed her made a trail of gossips and whispers. Yemisi almost became a snake on wet sand in the village.

 And then she caught Femi's eyes.

Femi had heard the stories of her sexual conquests and had made up his mind to taste what the village had tasted. He honed his manly skills and practiced his boyish looks. Femi then sang his most beautiful tune to Yemisi's ears. Wooing her a thousand times, with a thousand gifts in only a few months.

Yemisi bloomed to his words and relaxed her defences. Her hips began to swing different as she only reserved the allure for Femi. And when the time came for the deed to be done. Femi was beside himself with joy as he unbuttoned his trousers.

Femi was definitely giddy and Yemisi was clueless.

Here was a girl that would talk dirty and foul but when it came time to sling mud with mud, she cowered behind her unbroken flower. An innocence she spent most of her days trying to shield from the world.

The clerk in the truck, the palm wine tapper in the bush, the shoemaker in the toilet, Titi's father behind the palm tree at the New Year’s Party, the blow job at the back, the quickie in his room... and his room... and his room. Everyone had slept with Yemisi, yet no one had.

And Femi’s trouser rested on his ankle. Almost in as much disbelief as the wearer.

That day, somebody grew wiser.

Currently I have no interest and hope in Nigerian politics, this is why I have offered no opinion on the latest happenings in the country.

We are all tired.