𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝑯𝑾𝑯

𝑿𝑽

Unknown Pub
11:27pm
Somewhere in Ibadan

It was dark but he didn't care that all he could see were gray flames dancing around the dim red lights. Even as the blue bright lights of the little pub blinded him he sat still, swirling the putrid yellow drink in his glass cup. His mind was numb at this point, however he couldn't bring himself to care about anything.

He didn't care about his family, especially not his wife who was always on his case, and he could contribute little for his children aside from providing them with what they needed. Around him the noise from the loud speaker suddenly came crashing. It was like a wave sweeping away his troubles, a ride that filled him with adrenaline.

A man with open eyes yet blinded by the lusts of his desires, women everywhere. They're entertaining old men like him, selling their bodies for whatever change they can find. He took a moment to stare at his ringless finger. Out here he's free from any bonds. His eyes were so red from whatever additional drug was spiked in his drink. He coughed out smoke before snuffing the cigarette butt in his hand with his thumb.

"Nwoke m I'm telling you, Manchester United is going to win this match." One of his drinking mates laughed heartily. The smell of alcohol stinked the air even as he opened his mouth. "Barcelona are small boys na! Small boys. Ana m agwa gị {I'm telling you}" he shook his legs, an inductor of how drunk he was. Mister Sinobichukwu couldn't be bothered about the match which he already bet thousands of naira on, disregarding how his previous stakes were a loss.

Alcohol is but a temporary fix to a permanent problem. No matter how much you drink you can never escape the reality that awaits you. Slowly the problems he was trying to avoid were catching up on him once he spotted the short robust woman approaching him. She walked with confidence as if she had won it all in life. The epitome of a thorn in his flesh he was never able to get rid of. An addiction that stuck harder than the drink in his hands.

"Hey," she drawled in a sultry manner, shifting her body weight to one side essentially accentuating her hips for his view. She was dressed shabbily and it ignited a strong desire in him. He shook his hand and fisted his hands trying to avoid this temptation. The image of his wife smashing the beer bottle flashed through his mind. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

So he decided to ignore the woman.

"Asa nwa," the men whistled as they showered praises on her. She wasn't satisfied though because her man wasn't giving her any attention.

"I can't stay for long because of the child I'm carrying. You guys know how it is, abi?" she chuckled sinisterly, effectively shutting up the loud men. No one wanted to get involved in any dirty mess. The club was full of them. The upbeat music added to the building tension in the room, and once in a while people would turn to glance at them.

Mister Sinobichukwu shot up from his chair, swaying to the side as he struggled to stand straight on his feet. He waved the bottle in his hands, rage bubbling in him. "I'm not responsible for any of this!" he shouted, saliva smeared on the woman's face. "S... stop trying to destroy my life! Just let me be you this witch. I don't have anything for you...a...again. Go and find the man of that child."

Her face set into a hard frown, all her pretense went out the window. She resembled an evil person as he described and it scared the man.

"You think say you smart right? When you were using me back you no think say your rubbish life go drag you down the mud. Now you want japa? You dey craze. You hear me?! Me and you go fall down together no matter what!"

Mister Sinobichukwu didn't bother replying. He staggered with the beer bottle, attempting to ignore the situation completely. How did he get stuck with such a wrangly woman?

"Come back here!" She screamed. "You no fit use me like trash. This child is yours! You can try to hide but you can't avoid this." Some men tried calming her down. She pushed them away as they did so. "I can't carry this burden by myself o."

He started running. Crashing into tables, servers, glass cups crashing brought back the wretched memory he was trying to block out. It's like he's too far down in his errors to go back. Suddenly, he thought, if he could he would have never let his wayward life ruin the little good he had.

That night he walked aimlessly on the street. When the morning dawn descended and the smell of wet dues and humid air filled the atmosphere he went back to the popular pub where he left his car. It was a struggle driving back home. Sleep made him half conscious, his eyes swirled, never settling on one object. The sun burned his eyes as well.

Upon reaching home he parked the car by the entrance, basking in the pin drop silence. Sleep is all he thought about.

He heard sniffling coming from one of the rooms. Begrudgingly he went to check it out, everything was double as he walked but he just wanted to check. In the room he could make out the form of a little girl, however he was too drunk to recognize her. She held something in her hand as she cried into her pillow.

He turned around.

The girl turned around.

He was gone before she could see him.

He didn't even make it to the bed before crashing on the ground into a deep sleep.

***
A short insight into his life.
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