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CHANGING FACES-The game I play best!

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man in black crew neck t shirt wearing white earbuds

My name is Jake, but my friends call me “Changing Faces”- from the game I play best! I love to skate, most people would even argue that am best at it. I have made it my life’s ambition to play games. I never skip my usual early morning skating. One would always see me with my skating board around my neck and my ears on a tight synchrony with my ear pods as I stroll towards my apartment each morning. Even with my numerous friends, I still choose to skate alone, feels more refreshing.

I was that kid in highschool whom everyother person wanted to be like. Handsome, smart, athletic, outspoken, rich! I was regarded as the most handsome boy in school. I can’t help but notice the girls drool over me each time I walk past them in my majestic strides- a realization I had since weaponised. It wasn’t difficult getting any of them to do my bidding.

My parents were the typical rich but classy nerds whose quest for more money sweeps away from their homes as they travel for their numerous conquests. At first, I was embittered but now it’s a blessing. I almost always have the entire majestic apartment to myself, hosting parties whenever I wanted. Being the “most gorgeous boy in school” apart, I was one of the richest, had my own driver and one of the best houses. My influence alone was enough to drive people to my party whenever I deemed fit but the tenetious grid and wholistic adorning of the architecture kept them hooked till the next morning.

My dad had made a promise to the school to always throw in at least ten million dollars for further upgrade of the school, the reason I never enter the black book of Billy highschool even with my numerous trecheries. Other kids had on several occasions been warned to stay away from me instead.

With everything going on, I wasn’t surprised I was still their favorite person. The kids still wanted to hang around me. I was that gorgeous! It was no news that I was my favorite person in the world. I loved myself more than anything or anyone and never joked with harnessing my treasures whichever way I deemed fit. I had my way with the girls, I had any girl I wanted, and the others still begged for my attention. They didn’t bother if the relationship didn’t last, they simply wanted me to look their way!

It was a new semester and we were back to Billy high, fresher than usual, everyone trying to display their new grits. I had focused my attention on athletics during the summer break and had succeeded in getting myself a broader shoulder. I hadn’t only added in age but also in maturity. I could feel my biceps bulge out of my usual body hug T-shirts each time I put them on. I was satisfied with my progress and ready to devour my victims-the girls.

A new girl, Sarah Malley, obviously good and well rooted, joined our class that day. She was beautiful and even though decently dressed, was well adorned. She had lots of positive values she believed in and held at such high esteem. For someone who had just arrived, her aura already spread across the entire classroom. She was the typical good girl, one that every boy in class couldn’t take their eyes off!

grayscale photography of woman

I had made to capture her attention in class severally but couldn’t succeed. I had even resulted to intentionally crossing parts with her during lunch break in the cafeteria yet, nothing. She didn’t even as much as take a second look at me! The shock I felt soon turned into anger, fast spreading through my systems. No one had ever treated me like that – like I didn’t matter! No girl had ever looked down on me. Furious, I vowed to get her on her knees, begging for my attention. She had just stepped on the Lion’s tail, she had no idea who I was and why everyone called me “Changing Faces”! I won’t stop until she had become one of my conquests, her obnoxious attitude must be reduced to nothing!

I came up with a strategy, a top notch plan for my quest and soon dived into the world of activating the passive prow. Each encounter with Sara was spectacular, I was having the best fun of my life. With every step I took, I felt closer and closer to the end. With every stunt I pulled, I felt her wallowing into the world I had created. It was a fun-filled adventure!

A few weeks later, a time I was confident to have graced a page of her good books, I invited her for dinner at my house – the best way to get her to hang out with me without having second thoughts, or so I thought. She had no idea that my parents were rarely home.

It took until the next morning to make me realize that I had hit a dead end. I had made a delicious hamburger, the only thing close to a meal I knew how to make, ordered for pizza, decorated the dinning table with my dad’s most expensive red wine and even had a side pop corn, Incase she wanted to see a movie. I had waited for her, passing time with a movie in the living room till I slept off. It took about five minutes after my wake to come to terms with the fact that the entire incident wasn’t a dream. I had immediately rushed to my phone, no missed calls nor text messages. She hadn’t only stood me up but also never bothered to call!

Then it hit me, she was only friends with me because she wanted to effect a positive change in my life. She had agreed to have dinner even though she knew she wouldn’t come, just to make me realize that not every girl is swept off her feet by my supposed “charming body”. I had lived my life, happily changing girls as I changed my outfit with no one ever gathering enough momentum to challenge me. I was always seen with different faces at different ocassions – an act that earned me the nickname “changing faces”.

It only took a little incident – my encounter with Sarah Malley, a young Christian girl, embedded in more positive values than one could ever imagine to make me realize just how miserable my life had been. I was too ashamed to step my foot in Billy high again!

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2 Comments

2 Comments

  1. ViKtorsobe

    March 11, 2021 at 9:18 pm

    There is always that one person that controls our mumu bottom.

    I cultured lady is more powerful that charm.
    Thanks Dera for scintillating the mind again

  2. Sochis

    March 16, 2021 at 2:56 pm

    I’m glad
    These things happen sometimes 😅🥀

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Prose

Beaten and Untangled

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family doing grocery shopping


It was another beautiful morning in Phoenix, Arizona, my favorite state in the whole of United States. In my seventeen years of life, I have traveled across a greater part of the states in US and have succeeded in living in five out of the many I have passed by. My dad is a Civil engineer and his work takes us almost everywhere. Moving to and fro wasn’t easy at the beginning but I guess I have become used to it now.
I smiled as I watched the sun perform its magic on everyone and everything. As I waited for the school bus, I couldn’t help but notice, again, the happy and well knitted family: “The Hunters”. Though new in the neighborhood, I was already abreast with the details of the Hunters. Trust me, they are that captivating and ravishing! I still remember asking the first kid I saw in the neighborhood who they were. Everything about them is inviting. Their house was the best in the entire street, their cars were numerous, I could go on and on.
I kept staring as Mr Hunter opened the front car door of his Ferrari for his wife while their daughter sat at the back. Their affluence apart, the love and unity between them made them the center of attraction; the family everyone wanted to be like.
Whenever I did something wrong, my mum would always remind me of Kathy, their daughter. “Don’t you see your mate Kathy? Don’t you see how good, respectful and well behaved she is? Why can’t you just be like her?”.
The time difference between the onset and end of academic activities for the day was short, brief like a trance. Maybe its because I was lost in thoughts throughout. Mr Hunter’s perfectionism and how mind-blowing he has made his family was all I could think of. Sometimes I wished he was my dad too.
The sudden hault of the school bus jerked me back to reality. I made a quick survey of the environment. We were at my street but not yet at my house. I was both shocked and frightened when I sighted the numerous cop vehicles in front of the Hunters apartment.
I rushed home immediately, banging the door behind me out of fear. Mum wasn’t home yet, neither was dad. I was so frightened and my heart was beginning to beat really fast, heightening my fear. How relieved I was when mum came back.
A middle aged young man showed up at our door later that evening to interrogate us. He introduced himself as Detective Jones. It was on the course of the visit that we realized that Mrs Hunter had been stabbed in her apartment and the murder weapon missing. Kathy was left alone in their apartment as her dad couldn’t be reached.
The shock and flabaggasted expression on my mum’s face was equivocal to the feeling surged in my chest.
The Hunters of all people, who could have done such a thing?
“I just hope Mr Hunter doesn’t commit suicide. We all know how he never leaves her side”, my mum said.
The very month following the incident was grueling. Back and forth confrontation, uncomfortable invasion of privacy and out of the blues accusation by the cops.
We were all angry and stressed out. The worst feeling was the rumor that Mr Hunter had killed himself.
I couldn’t curtail the shock, the surprise and the confusion I felt when Detective Jones showed up at my house two months later to inform us that Mr Hunter was in their custody for the murder of his wife, Jasmine.
“He has given his statement and presently awaits trial.”, he added.
No one in the neighborhood could believe what happened. Mr Hunter of all people!

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Prose

Dear Daughter

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man people woman hand

It was another beautiful day, bright enough to brighten even the most troubled heart yet, intertwined in the midst of an avalanche of stress. It had been a long day and all I longed for was my bed. The academic stress was really taking its toll on me. I had known it wouldn’t be an easy process but I never knew it would be this difficult.

I had always been a star student, among the best in my class throughout my secondary education and even during my one year pre-JAMB class before getting into the University. It had always been my passion to study Pharmacy, the reason I didn’t mind staying back after my first Jamb result couldn’t get me the course I wanted.

My love for academics had never been hidden. I wasn’t just a lover of knowledge but one who loved to read. At a point, I could feel the fear in the eyes of my loved ones as they watched me twill into a world of my own, burying my head deeply in studies with little or no attention to human interaction nor friendship.

I still remember going through secondary school without a single person to call “my friend”. It had been hilarious then because I didn’t see the point of having friends, I couldn’t just understand why everyone placed so much emphasis on the word “friendship”. Now that I look back, I smile. The thought of how deep a transformation my thought process has undergone marvels me.

I haven’t only bought the idea of friendship but have grown so attached to mine that they could easily be mistaken as my sisters. We have gotten to the point of sharing and doing everything together. We even happen to share a room right now. How the friendship started, I can’t really tell. I just feel the universe decided to be merciful unto me. The Lord has really blessed me through those.

As I walked into my room, lazily dragging my feet out of tiredness, I managed to drop my bag to the floor before going for my bed. I was hungry but too tired to think about it. I needed the feel of my bed against my back for a while before paying attention to anything else. I took a deep breath as I stretched out my limbs.

My thoughts suddenly drifted to Ebuka, a final year law student. He was running his second degree program in Enugu Campus, the second branch of the prestigious University of Nigeria. He was one of the few guys who were bound on braking through my defences no matter how tough I make them. I had made up my mind, even before getting into school to focus on getting my degree first before anything else.

There was this saying in town that men love female pharmacy students. Better put, men love female pharmacy students because of the license they are to acquire. A saying I had brushed aside and considered trivial until it played out right in my face a few months in the department. I also got to confirm the rumor that hardly any female pharmacy student becomes a Pharmacist without already being engaged.

As I thought about Ebuka, I was at a loss on what to do. I had tried everything I know, every trick I have learnt yet, the young man wouldn’t just leave me alone. “I’m just a 3rd year pharmacy student for crying out loud, why don’t these men understand when a woman says she doesn’t want to get into a relationship until she finishes school?” My head was beginning to ache. I could literarily feel the throbbing like I was being hit with a hammer, a good reminder that I had starved myself for far too long.

As I staggered up to my feet, I blindly kicked my bag, causing the crashing of my plastic reading chair and a few of my books scattered to the floor. I sighed as I picked them up one after the other while supporting my head with my left hand as though it will stabilize the pounding I feel. As I picked up the last book, I noticed a folded piece of paper at one side of the table. I was sure it wasn’t mine as I hadn’t turn out any piece of recent.

“It must be from one of my mum’s old books”, I told myself. I had been told she died giving birth to me. The only way I had ever felt close to her was by going through her things in the house.

I was transfixed to a point the moment I saw the heading of the letter. I quickly went for the last page to be sure I wasn’t mistaking but no, I wasn’t. It was a letter from my mum. I sank to the floor as I read through, tears pouring down my eyes as I read.

My dear daughter

Dear daughter, you are the apple of my eyes, my joy of motherhood, my seed in whom I am well pleased.

You are stronger than you feel, smarter than you think and wiser than you know.

You are an epitome of beauty, a combination of beauty with brains.

Your elegance stands you out amongst your peers, you speak and they listen.

Your carriage, your humility yet strong stand for what you know is right distinguishes you.

Your good attitude, intelligence and domesticated lifestyle attract people to you.

But here is one thing I want you to always remember: “books before looks”. This is the principal foundation to a good life and the best start for the journey towards harnessing your skills and fulfilment of your destiny.

Be a woman of impact, be a woman of purpose. Be a woman who leaves a mark, a transformation on the lives of others.

You have all it takes but remember, the strength for these can only come from the lord. Make me proud!

Love, Mum.

I kept crying, not just because I missed my mum but because I had long walked in the footsteps that she would have directed me in. I cried because her words, even though as old as I am, sounded like they were just spoken. My heart ached from longing for her, but at the same time, I was glad to have heard these words. Even though not directly from her, it was exactly what I needed to hear.

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Prose

OBNOXIOUS GRANDMA

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Laura woke up perplexed. The last thing she remembered was getting drunk in a restaurant on a bid to escape the fraustration that sorged her system. Everything was unusual about this strange environment. Ranging from the sweet fragerance of fresh roses to the elegantly decorated bedroom with magnificent pieces of furniture lying at strategic positions.

The size of the bedroom alone surpassed her entire house put together. She was lost in awe as she starred from furniture to furnish, almost drooling. The sound of someone clearing his throat alerted her. She turned briskly to the direction of the voice and froze. She wasn’t sure but something about this young man sitting comfortably by her bedside looked familiar.

“Who are you and what am I doing here?” She asked, guarding herself on the bed, ready for the worst. The guy said nothing but only pointed at a shirt hung at a corner of the room. Laura looked from the guy to the shirt, back to the guy. It wasn’t clicking. She couldn’t tell what was going on.

“Use your words mister!” She screamed at him, rolling her eyes.

The young man cast a quizzical glance at her. For a moment he was silent. When he finally spoke, he pointed at the shirt again. “Doesn’t that shirt strike a cord?” He asked, calmly at first before raising his voice when Laura just starred at him without saying a word.

“That was the shirt I wore last night and I doubt if I would ever wear it again, no thanks to ill mannered simpletons like yourself!”, he yelled.

Laura was shocked and scared as the memory of the awful encounter flashed through her mind. She quickly covered her mouth with her hands, expecting the worst.

A knock on the door by Raph, the young man’s driver and personal assistant took Laura off the hook. She immediately took a deep breath and retracted further from the young man.

“Boss, the witch is here!” Raph announced the moment he entered the room. The young boss whom Laura got to know was called Leo, jumped to his feet, agitated.

“Is there a problem?”, Laura asked when she noticed the sudden focus on her.

“Mrs Gladstone is here. I know you don’t know her but the summary is that she is Boss Leo’s biggest business partner and she is trouble. Boss Leo is forcefuly engaged to her grand daughter Lucy, even though he has no interest in her. It’s the only reason their business relationship still waxes stronger. She is equally boss Leo’s mother’s closest friend. They have the same character. I know you are from a poor family. Let’s just say that if she singles you out, you are as good as dead!”. Raph explained.

Laura’s mouth was wide open. She wasn’t sure what to say. “Hey, is that hereditary?”, she said after the pause, looking at Leo who cast her a warning glance, then looked away.

Mrs Gladstone walked into the room with her head high. She always carried herself like a queen. “Who is she?”, She asked without even a response to their greetings. Leo immediately cooked up some lies about Laura’s background. Laura was terrified. She had been scared at first but seeing how Mrs Gladstone kept every other person on their toes terrified her. She couldn’t wait to run away from this oven called home!

Laura ran off the moment she got the chance. She never stopped running until she got to the bus stop where she boarded a bus. As expected, her mum and her younger brother were already parambulating around, walking to and fro their little compound wearing the typical hopeless countenance.

“Where did you sleep last night? Do you know how worried we were? Your father even had to go to work late all in the name of waiting for you to return. We haven’t even gotten any edible ready for your grandmother who informed us that she will be paying us a visit today simply because we were worried about you!”, her mum sighed. Laura didn’t need a suite Sayer to inform her that her mother’s bag of questions were rhetorical.

“Did you say grandmother, what grandmother?” She queried, turning to look at her mother.

“Which other grandmother do you have if not mine, or are you ready to resurrect your paternal grandmother from her grave?”

“Mum, that is not funny at all. The point is, I have never seen your mother!” She complained and made her way into the house.

“Well, you will see her today. It’s about time” her mum said to the already closed door.

The sound of the approaching vehicle alerted everyone in the house. “Your grandmother is around” screamed Laura’s mother.

Laura was shocked to see the same woman she had seen earlier that day. “Mrs Gladstone!”, She screamed before she realized it.

“Yes, that’s your grandmother. I’m sure you are taken aback by the fact that she looks almost my age. She had me when she was sixteen, that’s why.” Laura’s mum explained.

Laura was speechless. She had no idea what to say. Lots of questions to be asked. How could a woman as rich and accomplished as Mrs Gladstone be her grandmother yet, they have lived in abject poverty for as long as she could remember.

One thing was certain, Mrs Gladstone wasn’t exactly an easy person to deal with but that notwithstanding, her mum had a lot of explaining to do.

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