Homeless But Not Hopeless *A Short Story*

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  • #255371 Reply
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    This is a short story of an orphan who passed through hell, everything about his life is lyk a head without a cap….
    So sit and enjoy as i unravel the mystery of kunle’s story…

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    </strongEpisode 1>

    It was a bright monday morning, the morning was still cold, leaves were seen dripping of the early morning dew…
    Kunle was taking hot pap and bean cakes, it was another week on a site where they were building a storey building belonging to one of the princess living overseas, either in london, japan or wherever only
    God knows.
    Kunle was a labourer, he usually went to building sites where he was most useful on daily basis, he mixed cement, arrange blocks and plastered building blocks for different parts of the house.
    At times too, he helped the carpenters in making roofs and ceilings on almost finished structures.
    Even though there were so many house being put up.
    Daily paid labourers and workmen like kunle are not well paid.
    Can you imagine a grown up family man being paid two hundred naira at the end of a full day’s work.
    All his colleagues at work were buying and eating bread and beans, a good food routine for workmen but kunle couldn’t afford to buy that….
    Things were not good, in fact he felt life has not been good to him.
    As he sa on a cement block eating his remaining bean cake, he tried to recall everything about his life…
    It had been very hectic and full of struggles…
    Kunle was just six years old when he lost his father and mother and he became an orphan…
    They were living in a hut built by his father who was a small scale farmer.
    He would buy cassava, yams and other farm products, take them to ibadan and lagos to sell, come back after a week to his wife and two kids.
    Kunle was the first born and his father had just enrolled him in the only school he found in the remote village and so he was very happy while the mother was caring for the baby girl,
    Yemisi, one year old.
    There was a day kunle’s father went on a journey which he usually embark on with a lorry of yam and never came back.
    Rumour had it that the lorry had an accident with another one on a hill where both lorries rolled into a valley killing everyone but then nobody survived and nobody saw the wreckage to confirm the story.
    Months after people in the village still did not know how to greet or even confront kunle’s mother who kept hoping and praying that her husband would walk in one day as usual but nothing like that happened.
    Kunle’s mother did not have any work so, with time all the money and food in the house was finished and she had to care for two kids.
    After a while, she started selling vegetables, pepper and tomatoes.
    Things were never the same again, like stew with no salt, her life had no direction, they live in abject poverty.
    Things became worst from worse when a snake bit yemisi while her mother left her at home.
    Her mother came back from the market rushing the child to the hospital at night was too late she died before the next day.
    Her life was now totally chattered.
    She became depressed and developed high blood pressure, she could not go to the market daily and so could not afford to eat a square three meals a day and live well.
    Exactly a year after his father’s death, kunle’s mother also gave up the ghost and was buried without ceremony.
    Kunle was moved to uncle bayo’s place at the other bend of the town.
    Little did he know that the worst awaits him….


    #255436 Reply
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    #255445 Reply
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    Lolls @pizzaro. Tnkz 4 d invite

    #255449 Reply
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    Nice start…………kip it rolling

    #255454 Reply
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    Thanks @pizzaro

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    Kunle regretted moving into uncle bayo’s house because it changed his life totally…
    Uncle bayo was the only known relation of kunle’s mother from the same town.
    He was a very young man living alone in one room,
    Because he was a drunkard, he was scarcely at home and generally broke…
    Uncle bayo was in primary six when he got the daughter of a neighbour.
    So he ran off and lodged in agamo village, briefly with kunle’s mother and father before he got his place a few years ago.
    Because he would drink and drink always,
    All his income was spent on *weed*,
    He often lost his jobs.
    Nobody could remember his real name but everyone nicknamed him as “Uncle drunkard…”
    He would always put on one
    Cap or the other, a T-shirt and baggy knickers and sandals.
    All these affected kunle’s school.
    He often went to school hungry with his uniform torn and dirty, no books, pencil nor biro.
    Whenever he had to pay his school fee, it was always a great struggle as uncle drunkard never had money.
    He would promise and promise with little or nothing happening.
    After a while
    Kunle was forced to go out after school hours to sell tomatoes and pepper.
    In the
    Evening, he would go into the bush and hunt, he might catch a bush rat or snake and sell it and use the money to buy a textbook or pay part of his fees.
    By the time kunle was in primary five,
    He was almost twelve years old.
    He had had to repeat classes two times;
    He failed woefully the first time
    And was very sick,
    He could not go to school the second time-truly.
    His uniform was badly torn and he couldn’t pay for the exams.
    Uncle drunkard did not care or bother…
    Nowadays, uncle drunkard had become a notorious and habitual criminal, and whenever he is enjoying or smoking *weed*,
    If disturbed, he would bring out his belt to beat kunle
    “Am i the one that killed your parents?, dont bother me o or do you want to kill me?, little devil.”
    Kunle would cry his eyes out,
    He would cry and cry throughout that day and far into the night.
    Life was so cruel and bad for him.
    It got worst to the extent of taking his friend’s uniform on loan.
    Bolu gave kunle his old shirt and for an amount to be paid every monday at school.
    He would manage to keep it for the first term, then when they resumed in the second term, bolu had calculated the three weeks holiday asking for the total from kunle.
    Kunle was surprised, he could not talk.
    “we agreed that you should pay me every monday and three mondays have passed now, so where is my money?”
    “i said, where is my money?”
    He repeated shouting at him.
    “but… but”
    Kunle kept stammering.
    “but, we didn’t include holidays, you know we don’t wear uniform during holidays…”
    Kunle intoned finding his voice back…
    “that is not my business”
    Bolu said and slapped kunle two times.
    “let me have my old uniform back now”
    Bolu said trying to remove the cloth from his body.
    Kunle started crying as bolu unbuttoned the shirt and untied the rope he used as belt and removed the knicker also.
    Except for the torn under wear kunle wore, he would have gone totally naked.
    In shame, kunle ran out of the school and went back home.
    Never had he been disgraced
    So much in his life,
    He wished the ground could open and swallow him up…


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