“Well your life is shit. Welcome to the realisation that everyone before you has made.” Mfon says. He’d given the same speech at least fifty times, touring the country to promote his book. It flowed out of him seamlessly “You cannot change your life till you change the Paradigm. Create your own rules.” he raised his fist as his words drifted through the crowd who seemed disconnected from his message. They paid for him to get energy pumping through their blood; To give their spirits the jumper cable starts they needed. Over the next thirty minutes he launched into a speech about how to divide your goals into minute achievable aims and then execute. As he reached his time, he saw a few faces in the crowd light up. Some had even begun to nod, taking notes as he went on.
“What’s the new motto?!!” he asked.
“YES I CAN!” They replied. full of more energy than when he started. It wasn’t new; these people just needed a reminder. He left the stage to a massive applause, the crowd chanting “YES I CAN!”
He needed to get home. He enjoyed the last few moments of silence as he shook the organiser, who gave him his paycheck, after which he signed a few copies of his book.
‘HOPE>DESPAIR’; Conquering Life.
Mfon got into his car and as he started the ignition, checked his watch.
17:59. Any second now
“DID YOU MISS ME!!”
The voice screamed in his head. He imagined how it’s owner looked from its timbre and tone; An elderly man with a crooked nose, pale wrinkled skin and yellowed teeth.
“No,” Mfon says “I did not.”
“Admit it,” The man said “These few hours when I’m your guy a good for you; I try to tear you down. You’ll resist. Nothing much.”
Despair, his eternal foe, rang out in his head, his voice, unchanged in years. He was unwavering in his quest to drown Mfon in the depths of the negatives of his past. Resilient in reminding him that his future wasn’t a out of unending sorrow, filling up with his dreams, only to set them ablaze.
“Amazing. you’re reading my mind” Mfon said “That’s why I spent my day drawing ‘I love Despair.’ banners.”
“You did?”
“No,you dumbass.” he headed out of the Highway. The only term to describe the weather in Calabar was an honest-to-God inconvenience. He’d wake up and the rain would mean a long sleeve shirt and a jacket. Upon reaching his destination ten minutes away, the scorching sunlight meant he’d be soaked by sweat and the initial rain. It was still raining at the end of November and clearly only God knows because even google no sabi.
“Let him prattle,” another voice joined Despair. Female
This voice he imagined as a tall lady dressed in a white pant suit, skin the color of teak wood. A warm voice, calming to the senses; Hope.
She always appeared after Despair. Ever since the first time he stood on the bridge about to jump to his death. She gave him assurance that the future would be better than today. He’d listened, and held on to life. Good for him that he did; He was blessed with a new job, a beautiful wife, Eno. Their daughter, Elyon. He hurried home to meet them. Eager to hold his daughter in his hands, miss his wife deeply and hear all about their day. Life was good.
“Ikpa,” Despair said “You’re in for a huge disappointment. Just turn into incoming traffic, save yourself now.”
“- or suffer eventually.” Hope said, mimicking Despair’s shrill voice “We get it! you suck.” Mfon chuckled. Hope was right; Despair was a trap. He’d held on looked to the future and he wasn’t let down.
An Angel and a Demon lived in his head.
“Please hurry home,” Hope said “Ely awaits.” Her voice was filled with admiration for Mfon’s daughter. He drove past the food vendors , past children huddled in the run down bus-stops with no money for food. They passed a lit cigarrette and take in with each drag, disease and addiction. The cigarette offers warmth though, which is more than they have. His phone buzzes and he picks it up.
Hungry. Dying. How long still?
Eno doesn’t waste words. He hastily types his reply
Be back soon
Okay. Hurry up
Mfon put down his phone and when he looked up, the traffic had dispersed. He turned into street and put on his inner light so the vigilante guys could let him into the estate. He drove forward and reached his gate. The gate opened after his security guard identified him by the sound of his horn. He drove in and turned off the car.
“Welcome sir. “ Attah, the guard chorused.
“Thank you oh!” Mfon replied “Ame dia mkpo?” he says, asking if he’shad anything to eat.
“No sir!” Attah, the guard, replied. “Madam bin talk say she go find me food.”
“Mma ufok!!” he calls out to his wife. He heard her as she told their daughter “Daddy’s back!” she says. He looks up at her as Elyon walked up to her mother, who picks her up and waves to him, urging Ely to follow suit.
Elyon smiles, raising her cherubic hand to wave.
The explosive force comes first, followed swiftly by the heat. Mfon is hurled backwards into the fence. “Oh fun.” Despair cries out as everything goes dark.
************He begins to see her transform. Her voice became a cold, shrill whisper through damaged vocal cords. Her form hunched as her skin lost its vitality, wrinking slowly as the fire in her eyes gave way to pitch darkness.
Hope is here, but she’s no longer his.
Eno and Elyon died in the explosion. The shop behind his home refilled propane gas cylinders; he remembered crawling, trying to reach their mangled forms. He’s pushed in a wheelchair, watching as his wife and child are lowered into the ground, Ely’ s coffin half the size of her mother’s. He’d listened and filled his heart with hope. Hope, who laughed at him now, her cackling voice louder than Despair’s.
There were two demons in his head.
