Number 225, Katakata Street (A Story By Centino) - Season 1 - Episode 5

6 years ago

Number 225, Katakata Street (A Story By Centino) - Season 1 - Episode 5

I never saw the relationship between Sister Esther and Mr Kingsley in the light Irikefe constantly alluded to. Sister Esther who was interested in the destiny of our souls and payed so little attention to her appearance, it was sinful to even begin to imagine her in that way. The first time I saw both of them interact, it was a fierce quarrel they were having. Well, fierce from Sister Esther’s point of view. Mr Kingsley was cool as a cucumber, only punctuating Sister Esther’s rants with one quote or another. Irikefe said the quarrel was just lovers’ spat. “A girl slept in The Undertaker’s room the other night. Sister Esther knows because she is always watching his door.” On that occasion she had accused him of stepping on her clean clothes that fell from her hands as she was returning from the backyard airer. I heard her screaming “you wicked man! Idiot! Nebuchadnezzar!”

Mr Kingsley, seated on his room embankment said “If I am not out of my mind, it is alright with me. Saul Barrow 1915.”

“Mad man. Open your mouth and talk. Defend yourself let everybody hear you.”

“Silence alone is grand. All else is feebleness. Alfred de Vigny 1797.”

“Hypocrite. You stopped talking because you used your mother for money rituals but you have remained poor.”

Irikefe turned to me and said “If he does not start talking normally now, he will quote an African next.”

Mr Kingsley’s eyes suddenly reddened and became drawn. There was spittle bubbling from the corner of his mouth and his chest puffed out.

“Whenever things begin to go well in this world, the devil comes and puts a woman in your way, Robert Mugabe.”

And so it went on. Irikefe insisted Sister Esther was only in a fit of jealousy.

“But she is born again” I said.

“Leave that thing bros Freke. They are the worst. Give them a few days and she will be back cooking his meals.”

That is why when Sister Esther disappeared from the gathering this morning and Irikefe worked out her whereabouts, I could not help but tag along.

Each of the two floors of the compound has a common kitchen situated beside the toilets and bathrooms at the end of the corridor close to the backyard. It is one bare room tenants are given space to place cookers on top of individual cupboards to do their cooking. Walking down the corridor you are assaulted by the smell of stew and urine and soap in a giddying blend. Those who cannot digest food from this arrangement place their stoves on the corridor close to their doors to do their cooking. Mr. Kingsley and Sister Esther found a better way yet to make their food in a level of decency the rest of the compound envied. Since his room was the closest to the staircase, Mr. Kingsley one day cleared the rubbish from the space under and put his cupboard and stove there for his cooking. He protected this space for himself alone for a long time until one day we saw that sister Esther had sq££zed her cupboard in there too and there were no borrowed words of resistance from Mr. Kingsley.

“So what now?” I said to Irikefe when he led me through the backyard to the side of the building from where we could peer under the staircase and follow the movements through the hollow bricks used there for aesthetics and to allow ventilation within the corridor.

“That is Mr Kingsley’s stove she is using. There is no way that food will not be landing on Mr. Kingsley’s table. And there is no way those two will not resume normal service tonight. It will be in sister Esther’s room in case another girlfriend of Mr. Kingsley’s turned up. I will be by their window monitoring things don’t worry. I will have something for you in the morning.”

“If you took your carpentry work this seriously Irikefe, you would have had your freedom by now. You would have even started your own business,” I said.

“Which nonsense carpentry business is that bros?” Leaning closer he said to me “Can I tell you something?”
“You know you can,” I said.

“Okay” he said and hesitated.

“I’m listening.”

“I want to start doing Yahoo.”

“Irikefe!”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh Calm down bros. I have a target. If I don’t hit good money within a year, I will get an ugly oyibo woman to come down here and marry me. She will bring her dollars. When it finishes her family will be sending for us. With hard work I will be able to catch one, even if it is a Philipino.”

“That is the most stupid thing you have ever said Irikefe.”

“Bros Freke, that is what boys are doing now. See Ayeni at number 35. He has married and divorced three oyibo women already and he has never reached Seme border in his life. All he does is press his laptop from morning till night and they will be entering planes and landing in Katakata Street. He has bought the house they are living in now and has constructed a flat out of the rooms upstairs. Big boy.”

“You will get caught Irikefe.”

“Why haven’t they caught all the others? I may look stupid but I’m not. I will get by.”

“I think we should go back and join the rest. The papers are interesting today.”

“Tomorrow I will get my laptop. Someone is getting me a second hand one from Westminster. I will pay when I make my first hit.”

“When you pick your Dad’s pocket you mean?”

“Haba bros. I’ve stopped that one since na.”

“Good for you.”

“I will try and make a video of Sister Esther and The Undertaker tonight.”

“I hope they catch you and change the position of your nose with a frying pan.”

“No they won’t. They will be having too much fun to notice the recorder I will place inside their room before they go to bed.”