Millipede Chasing - Part 7

MILLIPEDE CHASING

This story is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

PART SEVEN

Good news! Their Madam had an emergency and had to travel that morning to Owerri, they heard from one of the older boys in the senior section. He was all dressed up to go out. It was strange, because usually boys did not just go out from the orphanage. Something was going on and the two friends had to find out what it was.

“Where are you going?” Okafor asked the well-dressed boy. He was always the inquisitive one asking all the questions, while Emenanjo was the quiet one who did most of the listening.

“Ha! Me? Can’t you hear the music? There is a wedding party. All the boys have gone already. I just came back to get container to carry food,” the boy bragged with a proud smile.

“Container for what?” Okafor asked. He and Emenanjo looked at the red cabin biscuit container he was holding.

The older boy who was still standing in the passage not far from the exit door, found Okafor’s last question silly. He was in a hurry to get out and did not have time to talk to the stupid little boys who bugged him and wasted his time.

“Have you never been to a party or wedding before?” he asked with a condescending frown.

“No,” both Emenanjo and Okafor answered with wide eyes.

“One thing you must know is that every party in Nigeria, especially weddings, has R.S.V.P written on the invitation card. Do you know what that means?” he asked while playing with the container between his hands.

“No,” replied both boys, who were eager to find out what the acronym meant.

He stared at them with authority, “Well, listen with your thick coconut head. It means ‘Rice and Stew Very Plenty’”. The older boy did not wait around for them to ask him to clarify his statement. Already too much time had been wasted with them. He rushed out of the dormitory which accommodated thirty-nine juniors and then he bolted from the building like a madman in his rush.

Okafor looked at Emenanjo. Emenanjo looked back at Okafor. It was their own personal code to do their silly act. Suddenly the two friends fell on the floor. They raised both their legs and hands up in the air and laughed garishly like two puppies being tickled fiercely on their tummies. They made a terrible racket in their amusement.

“Look who is talking!” Emenanjo shouted, still laughing.

“It’s his head that looks like coconut! Has he had a look at himself in the mirror? Acting like a beggar, taking an empty container to a party. Idiot! They will send him away with a broom,” Okafor kept laughing.

Emenanjo, lying just 2 feet away from his friend, stopped giggling. He was having second thoughts about what the older boy told them. Always one of those children who thought too much about things, he pondered on the possibilities. He propped himself up on his elbow and said to his friend, “We should go to this party.”

This prompted Okafor to pass his friend a glance and then he looked back at the state of himself, fiddling with the red shorts he was wearing. It was a problem. They could not just jump up and go to the party, they had to look respectable. “We don’t have any nice clothes. Look, all my clothes are torn,” he moaned. He rose from the floor, dusted himself off as if it mattered at all and went to sit down on Emenanjo’s bed. Looking a bit down, he was glaring at his friend who was still lying on the floor.

But after some consideration Emenanjo stood up and went to the window where he could still hear the merry music from the party and replied, “Well, we can’t wear rubbish clothes to the party. They will throw us out immediately, thinking we are beggars or thieves.”

Okafor’s checking of his clothes urged Emenanjo to also scrutinize what he was wearing. He noticed pretty much the same things as his friend, that he was also wearing a short, except that his shorts were much too big. They puffed out, making him look swollen up down to his knees. It made him look like a small fish in a big pot of soup, his scrawny little body drowning in the vast fabric of the oversized shorts. “God! I wish I was a rich boy. Look! Just look at my big pants! Even those street beggars dress better than me!” he cried in astonishment.

A long pause settled in the room as the two thought about their predicament. Only the faint and alluring music could be heard. Suddenly Okafor had an idea. “Hey, let’s wear Madam’s children’s clothes. I remember when we washed one of her children’s clothes that it was the same age size as we are,” Okafor said, passing a look at his friend for a quick reply; “and those clothes should be dry by now, you know,” he continued. He was so proud of himself for thinking of a good solution, even if it would cost them a lot of trouble.

“Madam will kill us if she finds out!” Emenanjo exclaimed. He was a lot less mischievous compared to his brave friend. “I have had enough of being punished by Madam, and usually mainly because of you, Okafor!”

Okafor jumped up from the bed and swaggered to the window where his friend was, raising his voice, “So, you don’t want to eat rice and stew? They might even be serving goat head pepper soup! Do you want to miss that? Hey? Don’t you want to eat goat’s head? Me! I want to eat too. I heard that pepper soup is the best food ever, forget rice! Far more delicious! Isi Ewu (goat’s head) is the food of rich Igbo men!”

Emenanjo knew Okafor was right. This was a perfect opportunity to eat until he burst. Today he was tired of being a hungry, ugly vulture desperately waiting for food. Instead, today, he will be a fat greedy shark that never had to wait for food. He had had enough. He wanted to be in heaven right now and these foods were definitely going taste better than Madam’s food. With a big smile which suddenly appeared on his face, he jumped happily, “Today is chomp day! Chomp!”