Yesterday,
Kunle came in,
seething and sulking,
as if someone died.
We prodded, we taunted,
but he wouldn’t tell us
what happened at the bank.
Today,
in the campus shuttle,
stuffy with midday heat,
two girls swapped gist
behind Kunle and me.
The fat one began –
“If you saw what I saw
yesterday at the bank…”
A tall guy, headphones on,
queued next to mine.
“Ehn ehn? So what happened?”
the skinny one replied.
“You know how, with headphones,
when the volume is high,
you think you speak softly,
but really, you’re loud?”
“His headphones, they tricked him
but not with his voice.
The banking hall scattered,
when his rear speaker
misfired a fart.”
I spun around to Kunle.
But before I could speak,
he fired me a warning:
“If you tell anyone
at the dorm or in school
I’ll tell everyone
about Aminatu.”
