From Jonny...
The Marriage of my three big sisters, my
brother's job, the education of my two younger siblings and recently the demise of my dad have turned the once
noisy and lively house of ours into a quiet
place with just my mum, myself and the
dogs occasionally slumming doors and barking respectively.
The idea of renting some of the rooms
out though bitter to swallow became necessary since I am hardly in the house to
keep my mother company due to the nature of my work as “a professional gossip”.
I have heard fascinating compound
house stories from friends, relatives and seen their enactment in TV series
such as Neighbours, The Tenants, Living with Tricia and a number of African movies and so I consider
the arrival of the new tenants as a chance to experience and confirm these
tales.
I was battling with the 26 letters of
the alphabet in search of a suitable title for a news story I had just
completed when a truck pulled up in front of our house amidst corn mill -like
noise.
My three dogs I collectively call Girls- Girls began to bark. Two persons; a man and a woman alighted from
the front of the truck just as I came out of my room to find out whose arrival
had woken up my girls which were brooding over the loss of their little one,
knocked down by a car after seeing me off to work earlier in that morning.
I could not immediately make them out
from the distance because I was not in my glasses. But after drawing a bit near
the truck and seeing the sofa, the queen size mattress, the dressing mirror
with some “tapole”, ladles and other assorted cooking utensils peeping from a
big basket tightly tied together with a variety of household items at the back
of the truck, I immediately confirmed that the newly married couple who had
rented some rooms in our house were
ready to move in.
Behold, the status of our private
residence of over 25 years is about to change to become a compound house with
all the wahala that comes with that change.
I am going to miss our private life
especially the washroom moments. I can no longer spend long hours on the water
closet reading a novel, newspaper, browsing, whatsapping or even generating
some stories and ideas as I “download”. I can no longer sing like it's nobody's
business as I shower but it's not bad at all because after all I am the
landlord.
I see the change as part of life and
as the two tenants move in with their bags, baggage and bundle of behavior, I
am prepared and poised to share “my washroom”, utility bills and take up the
responsibilities as a landlord.
A tale of two tenants has begun, Life beyond university continues.
