I feel like am in the dark, for a long time now I've been trying to open closed doors but just immediately as I open those doors something or someone pulls them closed again. As time elapsed have come to find myself in a relationship with the dark and I happen to be the groom of loneliness.
I closed my eyes last night with the constant fear that they may never open again but today, however, is a day I've hope and wish for but as I opened my eyes to find nothing of value in my apartment I realized I am just as poor as I was the day before. It was cold in the morning and for the first time in years, it was quiet, calm like waters in the morning river. Today of all days I needed to clear my head of any sort of thoughts and focus upon my meeting with the big boss. I tried to think of every possible way and scenario I can conjure in my head but nothing seems to make sense. As much as I like to know, no one can give me the answer I am looking for except the boss himself, I have no other option but to answer the call.
Sitting in a chair facing the window I looked down from my apartment facing the street and I notice that some things in these parts never change, only a few people here are fortunate to live and earn a proper income for their lives and families, these are the people that know the feeling and rush every morning before going to work while as for the rest of us, we are just con men, thieves, rapist, murderers, kidnappers, and who knows what some of us here are involved in these days. Most of the time I tried not to think about it but can't help but do. Then I come to wonder if my life would be different if only my mother had chosen a decent life and eventually get out of these slums but sadly she did not, am just another bastard in a community of bastards, and some of them I call friends but never get to trust. They say the one who has someone he can trust has earned another eye but a third eye in these parts is often blind making you a lot more vulnerable. The one who trusts does not last long and sad to say I've found some truth in that saying over the years down here in the streets.
I woke up from my daydream when my stomach began to rumble, what felt like minutes ago was actually hours, I've been sitting on this chair for hours. I felt the morning sun shining on my face, I've always quite loved the sensation of the morning sun, it remained me that after the longest of nights the light will surely come. I stood up from the seat and took my bath, brushed my teeth but yet still on the thought that I was summoned by the big boss, as fear slowly creeps into my mind I put on my clothes and stepped out of my apartment down to the streets of Iyara.
This part of town shows no love to its residents, the constant look of fear, desperation, anger, pain and so many negative emotions plastered on the face of different people all at the same time. Some places see your greetings as an offense so it's often better to keep quiet and just walk past without altering a word. This is a hostile neighborhood filled with people who are constantly thinking of possible ways to get violent, you see; violence in these parts of town is profitable and that is the first and last resolve of their daily income. It's the only thing we know and someone who claims to know otherwise and finally speaks up will end up either dead or missing. One thing this brutal street has thought everyone is how to stay silent. You have a dream is you being childish failing to wake up to the harsh reality around you. Every plan I've made has ended up futile for nothing seems to work. This place has been feeding on my ambition and sad to say at this rate before the age of twenty-eight I will be just as fucked up as many folks in these parts. The street kills your dreams feeds on your ambition and if your plan has a big possibility of happening and someone gets to know about it you become a target and God knows targets don't last long in this part. I've been walking for some time now trying not to think too much, even after my entire life in these parts my nostrils never get used to the constant smell of shit that never leaves the air. At least my neighborhood smells a little better than these parts. They call this part the dead zone because people just happen to like dying here.
At last, I've arrived at my destination and some men are gathered at the entrance gambling what was never theirs, to begin with. Most of these men are thieves, highway rudders, killers, and hitmen but; so was I. I appear to be gentle but my looks often fool people which was one of the reasons I've never failed any mission giving to me. I spent my early years studying most of the time, reading books, and am very much drone to ancient history be it home or foreign, I also tried to pick up a few words in other languages such as French, Spanish, and even Italian. I love Greek and most African mythology and I had plans to be a writer, my teachers told me it would be a waste of my brain if I did not go to school but as I grow up the engine to start that journey was not strong enough, another dream lost, over the years my head had become a graveyard for buried dreams. I greeted the men for there will be trouble if I didn't, they told me to sit down and wait to be called on but it will be wrong of me if I just sat there and didn't play for they can just take what I had if they feel like it, after all, am very low in ranks compared to everyone here. I've always been a good gambler not that I like it but here it is a necessity. In just thirty minutes I've earned over ten thousand naira, playing with the big thugs is very dangerous for if they see me as a treat it could be the end of me but one can't denial playing with them is very profitable. I started playing with just three hundred naira and am glad none of them noticed, it's a good thing I know how to keep my cool even in life and death situations. If I am to speak truthfully being too cold and bold has always been my default since who knows when?
Hey, you there? he's waiting for you. Finally, it was time and I just pray today would not be my last.