CHAPTER TWO “WHEN WRONG IS LOUD!”

©️ Opeyemi Akintunde
As Inspired by the Light!

Uncle Nureni opened the gate with so much excitement you would think we were the ones paying his salary.

Uncle Nureni had watched us grow from infancy till date.

There was one thing the Alabis had: they kept their circle small. They had retained most of their staff for almost twenty years, so Uncle Nureni, the security man, was a rich security man.

He had built a bungalow for his family while he stayed in a one-room apartment at the gate of a rich man.

What an irony.

He had made enough money to build a beautiful bungalow, but to maintain life, he had to continue living as a security man.

Uncle Nureni was a talkative, and he knew almost all the stories of the house.

“My boys! Correct children! Look at how you are dressed, sharp, focusing on your destiny, unlike these ones.”

We were familiar with these conversations.

It was how workers of rich men gossiped and bad-mouthed the children of their bosses behind their backs.

“Now, look at how you are spending your present,” Uncle Nureni continued, “going to school with laser focus, helping your mom. I already know your future. You will become great, my boys. But you see these ones, they are just living on their father’s fortune, spending it lavishly like there is no tomorrow. Do you know all the manner of things they used overnight at their useless party? If I am not exaggerating, they would have spent close to fifteen million last night.”

He hissed.

“On what? Drugs, booze, girls… It is a spoilt life they are living.”

My brother and I wanted to politely inform him that we didn’t need the update. We just wanted to clean and get going.

We didn’t want to miss the Maths period. Preparing for the SAT exam was something we were taking very seriously.

However, my brother and I exchanged looks at the mention of fifteen million in one night.

We shook our heads.

“It is well, Uncle. God will touch them,” I said, hoping that would give him a hint that we were not there for the gist.

Instead, it opened another line of gist.

“Can God change these ones?” he asked. “See, whatever a man sows, he will reap. Their father has caused many ordinary Nigerians to shed tears. Public funds became private funds. Money that should be used for the education of like one thousand children in one local government, they spend it on sending their children to the most expensive secondary schools.”

He leaned closer.

“Do you know how much Sikemi’s school fees is? One hundred million naira per term.”

My brother and I had never heard this tea before.

We knew she was attending an elite private school in the UK, but we didn’t know the school fees. If Uncle Nureni thought he was encouraging us, he was doing a pretty bad job because this was a depressing counselling session.

At that point, I knew I had to bail us out.

“Uncle, thank you, sir. They are always in our prayers. Please sir, is the front door open so we can quickly clean up and get to school?” I asked.

“The front door should be open. Martins left not long ago with his friends.”

“Thank you, sir.”

We didn’t wait for any more information.

We disappeared.

We tried opening the main door, but it was locked, so we used the doorbell. We stood there for another five minutes before Sikemi opened the door.

If lack of caution was a person, if lack of shame was a human being, Sikemi would be that person.

She had no clothes on.

Because what do you call dressing like you were going for a pool party …You understand right??!

My brother and I almost ran back, wanting to shout, “We bind you in Jesus’ name!” but we composed ourselves.

“Hey, Matthew and Mark. How are you? It’s been a while!” Sikemi said.

She was fond of mocking our names.

Matthew and Mark.

She made it sound too holy.

“How is Jesus Christ? How is Paul the Apostle? What of John the Baptist?” she asked, laughing.

If my brother could get a cane and spank Sikemi without consequences, he would gladly do it.

“They are fine. They sent their regards,” I replied.

I had formed the habit of massaging their egos.

But my brother was not interested. He went straight to the kitchen, looking for the brooms.

Just when I was about to start cleaning the living room, Sikemi called out.

“Matthew, Mark, please can you come and help with my room first?”

I looked at Mark.

His face told me he would rather go to jail than clean her room.

I decided to answer the call.

To be continued…

DEEP THOUGHTS NOVELS
Written by Opeyemi Akintunde
As Inspired by the Creative Word

www.deepthoughtsintl.org
 Facebook: @Opeyemi Akintunde
 Instagram: @OpeyemiAkintunde
 YouTube: @DeepThoughtsTV
 DEEP THOUGHTS NOVELS
Inspired by the TRUTH REVEALER
Written by Opeyemi Akintunde
 +234-8151103646