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The Legendary 4D

I achieved 4D.

Wait! That shouldn't be the beninging... begnin... beginning... Beginning! (Yes! Nailed it. I am not olodo, mind you. You'll soon understand). That shouldn't be the beginning, because that...that ain't even close. Let's try something else.
Okay.

I'm going to tell you a story, but let me warn y'all beforehand that I don't know how it ends. Scared? No? Come on! This situation is perfectly akin to being in a plane with a pilot who knows how to take off but has no clue how to land. Every story is a journey, and like every journey should have a beginning and an end. But when the author has no idea how the story ends,the reader has very concrete cause for alarm.
But before you start lynching me, know that it isn't my fault. Shit, you know, happens. And trust me when I say that the shit that happened on this fateful day was a steroid-addict version of the one that hit the fan, splattered off the LED TV and messed up the jacuzzi. In fact, this shit... Let's just get this over with. The trauma is just too much.

It all started with me getting a new phone.Samsung Galaxy S8. Edge. They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Now let me turn that around and tell you that heaven hath no joy like a teen whose wishes are granted. My dad had asked what
I wanted as a present for acing my JAMB and POST-UTME, and my answer wasn't far fetched. But he hadn't once broached the subject since that day, I figured he'd forgotten. Or maybe I'd pushed it. Could have asked for a Camon CX Air
.
Then I got a surprise package one night, and the next day I cruised out with Sammie in my pocket. The envy of roomies and classmates together. Latest big boy in campus. Whoever said man's not hot? This man was fucking hotter than space fuel. Girls who previously treated me like cant and wouldn't give me the light of day (or even that of a match at night) now started making convo, asking to play candy crush and word cookies. My ego inflated further. I started hanging with the cool guys in class; I was on top of the world, and the fact that I suddenly received a raise in allowances was...Mehn!

My life was set. My life was plum. I had come through like bangdadadang! But unknown to me, my village people were looking at me like


It all started on this fateful day when one of my 'real gees' invited me to a birthday party. It wasn't even his birthday, mind you,but a roommate of his friend's friend (see the chain there? Is that crystalline or straight or covalent?). I didn't care; the offer of free booze was enough.
I rushed to my Bq lodge for a quick shàkùshákù lesson (couldn't dance it to save my life). Come evening and I set out for a night of partying, dressed to kill in sleek black jeans, my best designer tee-shirt and brand new slides. Soft work, but not too soft. Just enough to give them légbègbé .
On the way, I met another 'dude' headed there, and we teamed up for the dynamic duo. Àwon omo òshòzóndi , ready to shánáwolé .

Then we reached Abúlé Ojà, an area overtly notorious for being populated with Class-D Broda Shaggis, and they started giving us weird looks that set off an alarm in my head. But I quelled it. I already had plans for the night, and by God's grace I was going to see them through (never mind that they were immoral); I couldn't just turn around and go home because of a few avaricious stares. And besides, what could they do? I was a big boy.
I put on my hard face and walked on. Nobody can mess with me;I am my father's first son.

Then Sammie started ringing, and as my bluetooth headset rolled out the number, I realized it was my mum. Initially wanted to ignore, but I knew her; she'd keep on calling until I picked. And I couldn't have her interrupting my fun. Thankfully the call was short (how are you and whatnot), but then the music didn't resume after I cut. So, without thinking, I brought out the phone to do the deed myself.
My companion reacted typically, with the "guy how far you be big boy o" and "make I feel am naa" and "omo you be baller o" while I attempted to show false modesty. He checked the phone out, and had just returned it when a voice that sounded like it had once worked out with Schwarzenegger rumbled.
" Bobo ,how far?Show naa."

What was this? I thought irritably as I turned to the owner of the voice. He looked like a typical agbèrò, seated with a group of similarly looking razz boys, and you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out he was the leader. He held his irukere casually; a half finished bottle of Chelsea.
"Eh?"I asked stupidly.
"I say make you show naa. Why you dey do like àsè ?"  He growled, beckoning me to come. And in probably what was my most blatant display of naivety till date, I walked towards them. The one to his right vacated his seat for me like I was a special guest, and I sat. It was when I looked around and didn't see my partner that I realized, at that moment,that I'd fucked up. "How far you? You be big boy o." I shrugged, beginning my false attempt at modesty again when he cut me off."  Oya drop that your phone for boys!"
The first thing that came to my mind was 'this guy is speaking Aramaic'. Or the blare of my headset had done some damage to my Eustachian tube.
"Eh?"

I was still thinking I probably shouldn't have joined the majority to ignore that volume message when something collided with the side of my face at a speed akin to that of light. And my world exploded. This is where the story ends, because, like I said, I can't for the life of me remember what happened next. It was like someone had pressed Alt + F4 on my keyboard and my brain was taking its precious time rebooting.
Now let me share with you my spiritual experience.
After that meteor... How can you say that wasn't a meteor? Who got slapped? I'll slap you myself with wooden shoe. Are you mad? Only the legendary ígbàjú olóyí has the capacity to inflict that type of structural damage to the human psyche, and that is an ultimate weapon of the African mother. Not to be seen being wielded by some backstreet o m o shèpètérí. So I insist, IT WAS A METEOR! Don't...Don't tell me what I know. I know what I know, and I know what I felt. NASA would be contacting me soon to collect samples that were already in my blood.

After the meteor hit me, I lost all motor and sensory functions. My mental pathways shutdown. My cerebrum traded places with the hypothalamus, or so it felt because I definitely heard the water in my brain slosh around. It was like an EMP had gone off in my head. Then darkness.
When I came to, the first thing I heard was an angelic chorus of "Hallelujah!" in four different balanced pitches. So beautiful, so melodious. I wish I could set it as my ringtone. But then I drifted away from the choir, moving through space time and my head was filled with random images and sounds of war; cannon booms and grenade explosions and what not. Then suddenly, I was slammed back into my body by some
unseen force that policed illegal inter-dimensional travel, but all I was hearing was a loud whiiiiiiiiiin that I reflexively looked up to be sure rapture wasn't taking place (the Broda Shaggis were long gone). But a goat passing by in search of forage eyed me with beady eyes and snorted. "Òdè òshí! Rapture ko, rupture ni! 

You've been obtained, abirùn!". To obtain someone, in the colloquial term, is to take by force another person's property, usually by threatening bodily harm. And there was no way in hell that it could happen to me. My dad is a third cousin of the Oba of Lagos, twice removed. Three of the princes are even on my contact list; we chat once in a while. My name was ***** for God's sake. So what the hell does this àsun donor mean that I've been obtained? I gave him a piece of my mind.  "Meeh meeeh meh meh meeeeeeeeh mmmmmmmeh! The goat stiffened in outrage. "Hey, no need to drag my mother into this! Instead of throwing insults around, let's settle this like billys."

Very well, then. I got into a fighting stance, and that was when the world slammed back into me and I found myself in the back of a police van(Oh yes, now I remember! The story didn't end there). They were saying something about me being one of those boys that usually constitute nuisance in the area, but when I opened my mouth to protest, all that emerged were incoherent noises. Hence the 4D I was talking about in the beginning. Not four dimensional.

Daft.Deaf.Dumb.Delusional.

And now I could see my village people looking at me like 



Long story short, I was released a while later after the police found my student ID card in my zipped pocket (I'd even been looking for the damn thing, having forgotten that was where I put it the day I collected it). With that, I was able to convince them that I wasn't a street boy, and was headed to a friend's place when the agbèròs they should have apprehended robbed me. I wrote a statement I had no doubt would end up in the àkàrà seller's collection. I was still thinking about how I'd explain what happened to my folks when I reached my place. Someone had broken in, and the entire place had been cleaned out. TV, PS4, laptops...Even our lunch. All gone.

The first thing I did was look around to be sure I wasn't on the set of 'A series of unfortunate events'. But no, this wasn't a film. It was just a way of learning that just at that moment when you think life's done fucking with you, it tells you



Note: The above occurrences might have seemed overly exaggerated; in fact, they sound overly exaggerated. But they are in fact exactly what the author experienced. That being said, if at any point of the article you laughed at his predicament, you and heaven eh....Lemme just hang it there

you  already know who wrote it...Arnis. Jimmy Arnis.

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