• Friday, March 29, 2024
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The lie that shot her…

The lie that shot her…

My name is Eghosa Obaseki, I grew up in the former Bendel State, Benin city to be precise. Life was pretty good in those days.

We lived in a very large compound that housed over ten families. Fortunately for us, our landlord also lived in the same compound and he had a strict policy of, “no trouble in my yard”, so we enjoyed relative peace. You could say that everybody got along very well.

Most evenings, when NEPA would strike as usual, you’d see members of the compound gathered in different groups. I’d usually hang out with my peers at our own corner. I still smile when I remember some of the things we used to talk about. Looking back now, it amuses me how much lies we told just to be at the centre of the gist.

The craziest story teller was Itohan. She was Mr Idemudia’s second daughter. He was one of the lucky tenants who fate had smiled on and he moved his family to Warri after he landed a good job.
There was one thing exceptional about Itohan and it was lying. No one was immune to her yarns. She weaved and fabricated tales about everything.

Itohan continued to visit us in Benin even after her family moved out. She was an interesting character. We all knew that most of what she told us (if not all) were lies but her stories were interesting and we enjoyed having her around.

One of the most interesting times was when Itohan got admitted into the University of Lagos to study Philosophy but she came back to Benin with a British accent. Sometimes she would forget herself and switch to her American accent but it didn’t bother us as long as she always kept the conversation going.

We all knew that we were in trouble the moment she started saying, “Hellor ” instead of Hello. I particularly liked the way she rolled her tongue when she said “yeah, no wahalar and innit”.

One of the children in the compound stared at Itohan in admiration as he asked her if University of Lagos was in “Lomdom” to which she responded, “Nah UniLarg is in Lagors but I visit London whenever am on holiday”.
Poor child, he looked up at Itohan and said, “Aunty, when I grow up I want to be like you”? I laughed hard when I heard the child’s father scream, “God forbid” from inside his apartment.

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It wasn’t long before the news of Itohan and her London holiday gist spread like wildfire. This meant she had serious work to do. She had to keep up with the lies or else she would “fall her hand”.

On this fateful evening, there was total blackout in our street due to a major fault from the main power source so we all came out as usual to catch up on gist.
We talked about everything from sports to fashion and dating until someone mentioned the issue of guys cheating on their girlfriends. Itohan couldn’t wait for us to land before she hijacked the gist and began to tell us about her experience in London..

Itohan’s story.
“Lemme tell you mate. So one time when I was in the UK yeah. Ma boyfriend and I were chilling in his garden then I told him to gee me some mani for ma shopping, so he gay me a thousand pounds to do whatever I wanted with it. So I went and did some shopping at Next, M&S and some big stores innit.. I did a latta shopping and I was tired as shit so I returned to ma boyfriend’s apartment to relax. When I gat there, I saw my boyfriend with another girl. He was shacked he knew that there was wahalar cos I just caught his blarck arss cheating on me with a white bitch, I was mad as hell so I brought out ma gun and I shóra”

It was an interesting story but we didn’t quite understand the last part until one of the guys, Osas asked Itohan if “I shóra meant the same thing as I shot her” to which she responded, “Yeah mate”.

As if on cue, we all screamed in unison, “Itohan, you shóra?”.

This incident happened over thirty years ago but I still laugh each time I remember it.

We had tolerated the lies for so long but this was definitely the last straw. That night, Itohan received enough verbal attack that could last her two life times. For a long time we allow her relish her tales and she talk to us as if we were either stupid or ignorant but we had to let her know that we had had enough. How she even conceived that kind of lie in her mind beats me.

She bowed her head in shame and walked away with her tail between her legs. She left Benin the next day. I guess the shame must have been too much for her because that was the last time we saw her but we never forgot Itohan.

Several years later, when my peers from the compound in Benin see each other we still tease ourselves with the “I shóra” phrase. It began a slogan when we wanted to describe something that wasn’t true.

If there’s one person I will like to see again, it’s Itohan. So please if you’re reading this, kindly reach out to me via this medium. I will really love to see you again.