Mike meets grannie

Reads: 75  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about the author's visit to his mother's village and a recount of experience creatively woven in humor

Submitted: August 18, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 18, 2012

A A A

A A A


mike meets grannie

Excited! All I was when mum said she'd love me to visit her parents. I’d for donkey years been dreaming of that picturesque village on the outskirts of Ilorin. I was only four the last time I saw her lofty hills. So, last year, I decided to fulfill mother's wish. Michael meets grannie; sounds like a best-seller. umh? I’d barely spent three weeks when I found my way to the nearest post-office. Dear mum thanks a bunch for igniting my enthusiasm in visiting the village. It’s been a rich experience these few weeks. I have no doubt that you'll thank your star when next you see me. With an average of twelve nightmares per week, I’ve lost everything called fat in my body. I’m currently suffering from a global body meltdown and my legs are the worst hit. With their broomstick configuration and chopstick morphology, they are the toast of every dog in the village. If I dare walk about on shorts, I’ll be in the autopsy room the next moment. Nothing excites me about this village. Nothing! The mosquitoes here are about the most heartless I’ve encountered in my extra-uterine life. At the last count, they've harvested nothing less than three pints of blood from my scanty flesh. Breakfast is another palaver. It’s cocoyam and palm oil every blessed morning. It’s especially horrible when it comes with smoked frog. Sometimes, I even think I’m a member of the buffo family. I wooed a girl last week and the best response she could give was to call me frog. Even with my two thousand five hundred naira Christmas suit on, a village girl called me frog. If it were in the city, I should be expecting something like tadpole. Mum, this village is a picture of everything called boredom. with malnourished children and their bloated bellies roaming the streets, I’ve seen more evil than I ever imagined. Last Friday, granny brought a girl home and told me she'd like me to marry her. maa mi, if u see this girl, you'll stop complaining about your height. She’s a few inches taller than our dining table. She’s got a lovely set of white teeth but only a few are accommodated in her mouth. The rest are accessible to the public. One thing that interests me about her is her command of English. It’s impressive! Here is an abridged version of the letter she wrote me few days to valentine's. She sent it through granny. Dear Michael, it’s with one heart that i write you this mischief(i think she wanted to write missive)All this day, you cannot even paying me a fisit efen when you hear that my father was fall down from palm tree. it’s not good o! That apart for one side. efa since the day I met you, I haf refuse to get mysef. Yesterday night, I daydream that we marry together and I born twelfe for you. I’ve pray to God about it and I know it will go to pass.it will not better for anybody that want to collect you from my hand. Amen. Terminate my greeting to baba and excommunicate me back as quick as you get this letter. hapy falentine in adfance. Your swintheart, silifa. I have no doubt that grandma edited this letter. Every word in it possessed at least one Yoruba accent mark. By the time i finished reading, I had become dyspnoeic. Some days ago, I knocked my head against the pole in the backyard and became unconscious. I woke up few minutes later with scarification marks adorning notable parts of my body; seven on my neck, seven on my chest, seven around my umbilicus and a whooping fourteen on each copy of my butt. Granny said she made an extra incision on my intergluteal cleft because I farted while she was about to round off. I'm grateful there is none on my forehead. Otherwise, my dream of quitting bachelorhood will never become a reality. Which city girl will marry a man with horrible tribal marks? Hell, none. Lest I forget, I’ve started drinking ogogoro courtesy of grandpa's benevolence. I ensure it doesn't go beyond two shots a day because of my Christian faith and your motherly injunctions. Both have really come in handy. Grandma promised me a two-day practical in taba snuffing and she was true to it. She said it was your family tradition. Mum, I never knew tobacco was that soul-lifting. I was on fire for Christ! We've got so much to be grateful for. There is a new addition to the family. Granny’s surviving goat put to bed this morning. She christened one of them daddy's first name. She said it looked very much like him. I’m cock-sure daddy will be happy to meet his namesake. On a final note, granny said i should remind you of the money for her teeth replacement. Mum, please send the money in good time. I'm not comfortable each time she smiles. It’s scary! Her surviving upper incisors always remind me of my nightmares. I remember some three days ago when the pregnant woman who sells ogogoro to grandpa made a funny remark and grandma laughed, she had a miscarriage straight away.


© Copyright 2017 Supersurgeon. All rights reserved.

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Supersurgeon

Mike meets grannie

Short Story / Humor

Popular Tags