NIGERIANS AND CHANGE

Nigerians believe collecting  'change' is part of the buying and selling transaction. In fact if they have not collected change, they may feel incomplete, Whether or not the transaction warrants a 'change' or not.

Let me tell you people a story

Mama Nonso would come to my  to buy lollipop  for her son , worth 20 Naira. Mama Nonso never came with the exact 20 Naira Note.  Instead she would come with 50 naira notes sayin "my son, you know 20 Naira is now scarce these days, Oya give me my change''...

But today something happened.......

The price of Little Nonso's favorite had increased to 50 naira. "Finally I will not have to give mama Nonso change anymore", I thought to myself. She came to my shop as usual, this time carrying little Nonso in her arms, covering his skinny nude buttocks with her hands. I never noticed how skinny and ugly he was until now

 She asked me to bring one lollipop for her smiggle look alike son, I gave it to her, and the next thing that happened made me give up on Nigerians

She counted 3 20naira notes and said "my son, u know 50naira is now scarce these days, Oya give me my 10 naira change''.

I was literally jaw dropped for 20 seconds

Disclaimer : All the characters in the story are fiction. If any character bares a resemblance to any living person by name or by description, then it is merely a coincidence..... Or maybe not😁

A Five Hour Journey

I was about to finish the first chapter of my book when I heard the knock the first time - mum and dad had travelled, so I was home alone. I had resigned not to answer because I did not want to be disturbed. But when I realized that it was 11:30 in the evening, it sent a cold chill down my spine. "who could be disturbing my peace at this time of the day?" I asked myself with a jot of fear.

'kpon kpon kpon' . I had lost count of the number of knocks, so I decided to reward the night crawler for their persistence. "who is that" I asked with a voice accompanied by fear. "it's me o" replied the unknown person. The voice sounded familiar, I thought to my self. "you who? " I said, with some restored nerve. "it's me oo, Aunty Ivie".

Aunty Ivie was my favourite aunty, my dad's only sister. She was light skinned and tall, with a lovely figure to go with it. She had that perfect dentition which could make her smile tickle even Hitler. Aunty was also very supportive. She would buy me books and say "you have to be the best writer, remember we are 'bini' people". One time I thought about handing her a nick name, but you know, tradition would not permit.

"No na, don't lift the bag that way. It may tear you know. Don't worry sef, I will take it to the room myself. I also have to remove the sweat that comes with the 5 hour journey from Abuja to Benin". I insisted on helping her, but her mind was already made up

7 minutes later, my phone rang - it was my mum
"sweetheart your daddy's sister passed away today, about 5hours ago"
I froze.