diary of femo sledge(episode3)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Femo Sledge continues his thrilling didactic tales in this episode which examines the hypocrisy religion brings to the society.

Submitted: July 19, 2017

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Submitted: July 19, 2017

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DIARY OF “FEMOSLEDGE”
RELIGIOUS HUSTLERS EPISODE 3
Since I was a child growing up with mama in Ojuelegba, I always heard her say,” Irinisi ni isonilojo,” a Yoruba proverb which means that “appearance is a way of judging mannerism” and I had always believed her until recently when I started believing the Oyinbo man’s adage that looks can be deceptive. Well, don’t blame me. For a very long time, I always thought that hustlers were street guys, prostitutes  and politicians (at least, we all agree that politics in Africa is for hustlers who need make quick money). I had always heard traces of how alfas and pastors extort money from their followers all in the name of offering. I remembered what happened at the naming ceremony of  one of our Union members, “Lati”. When we got to Lati’s  house, the  alfas had not even arrived yet .We waited for almost two hours before  their  arrival . When they came, they just sat and did not apologize to the guests. Soon, the whole proceedings started. The Imam, who anchored the occasion had a sugar coated tongue and I could see him eye those wads of notes that everybody was donating with greed. As the  programme dragged on, some of us discovered that the alfas were more interested in collecting, “owo ope’’, “owo alubarka” and other money rather than bringing out the name of the child. Even after the child had been named, they still sat on the table devising other means of extorting money from guests. When the situation got out of hand, some guests stood up and never returned to their seats. Those of us who had guts just brought at our “ganja” and started smoking in front of them. At the end of the day, they rose up to leave. Later, we heard that there was wranglings among them over who gets what? Na wa o! alfas sef wan hustle for good pay. 
Anyway, that day, as I  got to our park, Igando park, I noticed that so many people were gathered at the front of the union office discussing about something important . The nearer I got, Iya Ruka’s loud voice rang into my head.
“Ha, na wa o, we no fit trust people those days o , na so dem see human head for one alfa hand for Osogbo last week” she said. Initially, I thought it was another case of ritual killing “O boi, everybody wan ride Venzar these day o”, I thought it within myself. I recalled that Seun, my friend’s younger brother who was into “yahoo yahoo” just bought a Jaguar last week and I was beginning to wonder whether the boy had not introduced something else into internet fraud. Those days, Yahoo Yahoo has degenerated into ritual killings, we hear cases of headless bodies of ladies around so, I was skeptical about how Seun got his money. Anyway, I’m not morally justified to judge anybody since I also do runs for politicians. I’m not against making money as long as it does not clash with my interest. Everybody is a hustler in Lagos,” I concluded.
“Wetin happen?” I aksed as I reached where the crowd were.
“Femo, so you neva hear wetin happen?” fatty said to me. Fatty was one of us, also an agbero (hustler like me). As usual, his mouth reeked of Iya Ruka’s ogogoro and his eyes were blood shot and red.
“Wetin?” I inquired curiously.
“You no hear say “Pastor” don carry people money waka” he dropped.
“Haba now, no dey talk that kain thing, “Pastor” na man of God and he dey trust worthy,” I charged back at him.
“Hmm, person wey never show for a week now, dem dey try im line, e no dey go,”
“Pastor was the name we called the thrift collector who usually came to our park. He got that name because he was always dressed like a born again Christian and looked deeply religious. Many a times, he had preached to me to accept Christ as my savior and stop my hustling life but I always asked him one question to dissuade him from pestering me further.
“Wetin I go come do if I no hustle,” I often asked. That was when silence always prevailed between the two of us and he would simply end by saying, “may Jesus show you the way’” I would say’ “amen”
But now, what I was hearing was unbelievable. Pastor, of all the people in the world. “Perhaps something had happened to him and nobody knew,” I thought Pastor was so loved by all the traders at Igando Park. Even among “agberos” we still had people who contributed money with Pastor so what could be happening now?” I ruminated further.
“Abeg, na lie joo, wetin Pastor wan do with your money, no commit blasphemy with these our people o! I pressed Fatty further commit blasphemy with these our people o!” I pressed fatty further “ Blas-wetin, I dey tell you say we go in house, dem talk say e do park last week and nobody knows where im park go,”
I was stunned as I opened my mouth in disbelief so, pastor was a con artist”. Somebody who was always dressed like a born again and always trying to win soul for Christ anytime he came to collect the daily thrift from traders face. Even Adamu, “the maishai” at the park was in the gathering, his face, sullen and his mouth but speechless. Chairman, who was trying to calm everybody down, seemed not to be in control of the situation as people continued to murmur. Even passengers whose buses were yet to be filled joined the crowd as they discussed a “scani” done by one of those who claim to be “God’s anointed”. Na wa o, nobody can be trusted these days, appearance, at times is not a way of judging mannerism . I was almost thinking of starting monthly contribution with Pastor before this bubble burst o. “Na God save me sha” I thought, “but if my money dey there, I sure say na Ogun go kill am since my money na from hustle” I concluded. There are a lot of religious hustlers around these days. Be careful who you give your money to since nobody can be trusted in this era when desperation has entered everybody’s heart. Even alfas and pastors wan ride limousine. Lol!  

 


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