DANCING TO THE DEVIL'S BRASS-BAND

DANCING TO THE DEVIL’S BRASS BAND

That fateful morning, I struggled out from my bed because of the extensive weeping into the early hours of the morning. All my joints were aching and worse still my head was pounding as though I were at the middle of the battleground. I was determined to   attend to my already scheduled visit to Vera who had lured me into believing that love bears and understands all.

My present problem all started the last time I visited her. Vera was down in spirits. Her roommate Isabella like a CIA agent had signaled me that she has been like this for two days. “No wonder the terrible stench that oozed out of her mouth when she reluctantly muttered what I presumed to be ‘hi’ to me”, She was totally different both in looks and attitudes from the Vera whose presence melted even the most solid of hearts.

 Her popularity in the campus started when she worn the prestigious Miss Campus beauty pageant which was keenly contested not only because of the prize money but also the attendant influence and popularity that follows the winner. It took me a whole session to woo and win her love. I wondered what has overtaken Vera that she could not even take her bath at such an hour of the day. My mind raced up and down trying to find possible answers but to no avail. As I was still trying to figure out what next to do, she broke into an uncontrollable crying, her eyes were red and her nose was running. I thanked my God that Isabella was still in the room when her neighbors ran into the room to find out what was happening. I managed to calm her down assuring her of my willingness to render my life if it need be to help her out of whatever it was that was eating her up. I fought hard to accommodate the foul odour that kept on oozing out from her mouth each moment she made effort to talk. Finally the bomb exploded, lo, it was her academic woes and the public disgrace this will cause her and worse still the possible extra years that is staring at her face.

DANCING TO THE DEVIL’S BRASSD BAND

As she poured out her soul to me, I was consumed with grief for her academic misfortunes .The fifth result of our first semester course had just come out and she has again successfully registered another failure which conventionally among the students is regarded as the police number thereby bringing it to a total of eight courses already lined up for her for resit. As I comforted her on my chest, I was lost in contemplation what she actually would request of me to do knowing too well that impersonation is not only a criminal offence but also punishable with expulsion in the University. I was in a fix as I prayed hard that she requests nothing in that regard. I remembered the words of my roommate Jerry to me about Vera, during her reign as the Campus Queen that she has lost focus and devotes more time than required on irrelevancies and public functions that makes her keep her academics at bay, I frowned and quarreled with Jerry attributing his remarks about my Vera as driven by jealousy and bad-feelings. I even told Vera about it.

Regrets and confusion overtook me. “A man that gathers the maggot infested firewood should not complain at the festival of the lizards at his compound”, I managed to mutter to myself. After some few moments of deafening silence, Vera flared up as though stunned to life by a gadfly.” Why do you hate me so much? What is that I have done to you that make you keep me at arms length? This is not you my Charles, what has happened to that fire, those burning flames we shared? How can you call me your babe and you cannot be there for me when I need you most…” “Please stop Vera”, I quickly interrupted. “You make me feel like a Judas! You know I would do anything for you. Please baby, don’t say anymore, what is it that you want me to do now?”  With eyes as bright as a thousand stars she gazed into my eyeballs for some seconds then resting her head on my shoulder she whispered “sweetie, I want you to write the forthcoming carry over courses for me, you know this is the easiest way to pull out of this mess and moreover

DANCING TO THE DEVIL’S BRASS BAND

they will be easier for you to write than me taking another leap into the abyss of luck”. I swallowed very hard as I struggled to face the reality staring me at the face. I do not know how to say YES to such a request. I was like the almighty Samson before Delilah or even the great King Herod before the innocent Salome at her request of John the Baptist’s head. He who eats the sacrifices of the gods owes the gods I could hear my father warning me. Before I could open my mouth to say a word, she had ‘violently’ taken hold of my lips, applying what she rather calls formula 180, using all her feminine powers I was totally subdued just like the great Caesar and Mac Anthony were in the battle bed with the Egyptian Princess Cleopatra, with little hesitation, I slipped into a blissful coma.

It was her first paper, everything went fine, and she was all about me the whole night full of life and joy. I was happy too not only for the sexual marathon we engaged in but also for bringing her back to life. She kept on praising me for being the man of her dreams and promised to keep by me as long as she had breath in her. That night, she gave it to me like never before, perhaps as a tonic for the remaining courses. My head grew fat with air of pride and achievement. The last straw that broke the Carmel’s back occurred the day I wrote the final course. I was about submitting my script when Prof Martins, my academic adviser walked into the hall. “Young man, what do you think you are doing here?” he thundered, as I stood frozen to my feet. I could hear Jerry telling me “did we not warn you lover boy”. “Gentleman, what’s your business inside this exam hall? Are you deaf now or is the question too difficult for you to grasp? Do you …’ ‘Sir Ehm, I am... No…it is... Sorry, we were...’ I struggled to explain. ‘Wait a minute, are you not Charles, course prefect two years ago…ehm… Yes! You made the best result in my course in your class…”   ‘Please sir, I am very sorry’, I interrupted.’ I...I will ex.. - plan...explain eve… every thi...’“Shut up! that ringworm infested gutter you call your mouth,  you  wretched   ego-

DANCING TO THE DEVIL’S BRASSD BAND

inflated rogue. You are a bloody fool, an ignoramus, a vampire, a nincompoop, and an irresponsible brat” Prof Martins raged at me as he seized the opportunity to display his rich harvest and command of abusive vocabularies. The students cheered him to a crescendo as he dished them out in his peculiar dramatic manner. Before I knew it, the security men trouped in with a panel van, like a criminal I was roughly loaded into the belly of the security van (after signing their examination malpractice form) as the students jeered and booed me to ridicule.

Following the university’s new policy on exam malpractice, I was summarily expelled after facing the panel set up to hear my defense. Before I got back to my room, the news like the proverbial harmattan fire had spread to all the nooks and crannies of the university. I covered my face in shame as I narrated my story to all who had gathered for my final burial knowing too well that many have come to confirm either their doubts or their suspicions and to lay to rest what was left of my battered and leprous image. Some of my sympathizers consoled me urging me to learn from my mistakes and to cast the past behind me and think as every adversity has an equivalent seed of benefit. Some others who pretended not having anything to say exchanged non-verbally among themselves remarks of ridicule, which I pretended not to take notice of.  Like the biblical Job, I cursed the day I met Vera.

It has been four days now and Vera has neither called nor visited. I decided to fight the devil in her own backyard. It was too late, as she has gone home for her traditional marriage to one Dr. Davis who lives in the United Kingdom and may likely not come back again. I gathered from a reliable source that she has collected her transcript and will be continuing her studies in the United Kingdom. This news renewed all my pains and losses knowing lately and most painfully too that I have been goofing, playing the fool. Vera never whispered such a thing to my ears and

DANCING TO THE DEVIL’S BRASSD BAND

worse still a girl for whom I was torn and cast away from my bright future walking out of my life just like that without any words of comfort or sympathy. It now dawned on me but lately though, that the child that refuses to wear the garment of honour must not be allowed to refuse to wear the cloak of disgrace as my name was used indiscriminately as a synonym for foolishness. I even overheard people calling me bagger which is a slang used to depict a worthless and shameless fellow in the campus.

Having lost Vera, my future, my prestige, my friends and indeed everything, I had to join the fugitives of the merry-go-round who with much enthusiasm welcomed me into their league. The league I better would call the rejected of the earth, waiting for the time to take our revenge.  I blamed myself for dancing to the devil’s brass band.