Talk to Me

The dark sky told no story: no stars, no moon. He climbed up the stairs to his apartment on the 2nd floor as though he didn't just get a sack letter at work.

He would not return to the office the following morning. He would not get a chance to tell the company secretary, Ronke, how much he loved her and wished she wasn't involved with the senior bosses. He wouldn't see her because she was fired too.

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The flight of staircases seemed longer than usual, the fluorescent lights didn't seem to work, even though they had recently been replaced.

As he turned the door knob, his mind flashed back to ten years before when he opened the doors to tell his father that he had failed JAMB for the 4th time. The look on his father's face  had torn him apart. The pang he felt in his heart reminded him of the fact that he hadn't stitched the wounds of time past. He still wouldn't.

This weekend, he would turn up at QUILOX using his last savings. He would dance till dawn. After which, he would head to the Third Mainland Bridge and kiss the waters.

You would read on LIB that some fishermen found a dead body in the waters on the past Sunday. You would wonder why. And then you would look in the mirror of your family and friends. I hope that when you do, you lend out a hand.