On a bright sunny beautiful Saturday afternoon, an afternoon best for ceremonies in yoruba and the type of Saturdays businessmen and women pray for. As people are busy bustling with life in Ile-Ife, so are some people dejected in that same town just as Niphemi.
Niphemi sat with a bench, wearing a three quarter faded blue jeans, with a shining white cotton-made Singlet slung along his neck just as guys do do.
He sat lost in his thought, dejected and with a funny frustrating look on his face. He was busy soliloquising and thinking on how his life has dwindled down from a life of affluence to one of misery, in a matter of some years.
In his delirium, he has even forgotten that very Saturday is his birthday.
But that wouldn’t be a good news to him either because that time two years ago he was cruising around in a Toyota corolla, with ladies at his Beck and call, a very fat account and friends ‘bathing him with champagne. He can’t keep himself from wondering where all this friends are IN THE SPACE OF A FEW YEARS….except his friend nicknamed whizzy.
He jumped outta his skin when he felt a hand tapping him……..