I Survived… (Part I)
The lecture was going on, but my mind was somewhere else, if not that the lecturer was Dr. Orji I could have left the hall, but you dare not pick your nose let alone sneeze when he was in class. As he was dropping his chalk, I sprang to my feet, walked briskly and once out of the class, I ran to the bus stop, jumped into the next available taxi and headed back to my office.
Ordinarily, it usually takes about 15 minutes to get to my office, but not that day. A route not used to heavy traffic suddenly had a ‘go slow’. I began to sweat, sweat droplets falling from my forehead with each matching of the brake by the driver; but I was determined to ‘hold it together.’
I soon had a glimmer of hope when the traffic started to ease off, the driver accelerated only to via into a gas station to buy fuel. He gave me that look which means to say ‘oga no vex abeg.’ I wanted to say something to him, but my bowel movements sent a restraining warning, instead I shut him a distressed look hoping that he will get the message from my face. He didn’t.
It was taking like eternity getting to my office at Canute House Ogui Road, the rumblings in my stomach and the occasional attempt by some semi-liquefied , odourferous substances to escape through the crack was becoming very difficult to push back.
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As the driver entered my street, not knowing what I was up against, he slowed down again to greet a colleague of his whom he was unable to attend his father’s burial. At that stage, I couldn’t bear the pressure anymore. I got down, sweat dripping down my forehead, my ass tightened to forestall any uncontrolled leak, I walked the remaining distance into my office, ignoring all greetings from buddies not because I want to, but because I didn’t have the luxury of facing the dire consequences of expending the little energy I was using to ‘hold on’ to respond.
As soon as I was inside my office, that’s when the story got a bit complicated. That long walk from the reception, through the hallway to the toilet was like …errmm… Jerusalem to Damascus, near but far. I told myself, “well… you have tried, it is not your fault.” But when I thought it was done, I somehow managed to make it into the toilet only to be faced with the worst tangle of my life – my belt.
To unbuckle my belt became like dismantling a transformer. I fiddled and fumbled with it till my legs began to shake, tears rolling down my cheek. I began to cry as my tightened ass began to give way to some hot smelly, semi-liquid substances. Impulsively, I forcefully with the belts on pulled down my jeans with the last once of energy in me and quickly sat on the toilet seat.
Putuputuptu…patapatapata….pupupupu… the feeling was indescribable as I let ’em escape, I was in ecstasy as I emptied my convoluted abdominal contents into the toilet. Then I leaned my back on the wall to savour a gush of fresh air that were breezing in from the window. With my eyes closed, I thought to myself, Freedom At Last!
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Written by Young Ozogwu: @youngies
Watch out for part 2
