Baba And His 29 Yr Old Tie

Baba And His 29 Yr Old Tie

As I write today, am as angry as a vexed bull and am prepared to spit it hot on my Baba, Mallam Muktar. I know you want to ask me what he has done wrong to deserve that much. Mallam has done all things wrong.

My Father Mallam Muktar He is a 51 year old widower, now in love with 20 something girl my age (am cool with that) baa damu wa.(no problem). But this girl is a fashionista like me who loves to dress to the nines. I even have a feeling in my belly that one of the many reasons Baba   got attracted to her was due to her fashion sense which was similar to mine, and her dark lovely skin with a dimple on her right cheek. Yowa!

You need no Alfa to tell you I liked this girl the first time Baba brought her home. Though she was a bit nervous, she was not at all naïve as she held her own. The kind of girl I’d been expecting Baba to bring home to care for him after my mum died after my birth.

The ones I had the opportunity of meeting were all sorry sights to behold and had little manners Haba! I shuda said NO MANNERS. I later realized as I grew older that Baba probably hung unto them cos he needed their services in ways and explanations I cnt offer you now……you know now, I was beginning to think Baba had an incurable taste for no brains, can’t cook, no manners, money wanton, ugly ladies. But this time, the lady Baba brought home had both brains and beauty. She also seemed to be versatile. With a B.A from Bayero University and Masters in Massuchhets, a member of the rotary club, a lawn-tennis lover, the owner of a fashion house. Oh! Zainab was the perfect fit for my M.Sc,MBA, Ph.D and an honorary degree ,socially dead Dad.

That day, Papa was so nervous. I’d never seen him like this before, except for the day I told Baba as a teenager that I was seeing blood on my underwear and was having some stomach ache too( a tale for another day).I could not help but imagine Papa  in his teens tryin to toast a girl. That was how Pa was, fidgeting with his car keys, looking down at nothing, mumbling nonsense about how the cooks were probably serving siesta and how  the sofa needed to be moved to a certain corner, when he came home with Zainab . Oh! I could just ask for about anything at that moment and Baba wouldn’t be bothered.

In order to ease the tension my lovely Da was in or shud I say the dilemma he brought in on himself, I became pretty nice to the lady he had told me about  and who was likely to be my step mum.

I offered her a seat and started discussing issues from accademics to fashion,then entertainment to sports and thereafter politics over refreshments. Waoh! She passed my first test. She confirmed my beauty and brains query.

Now I didn’t want any step mum calling me like her daughter no matter how good she thinks she knows me or how good she thinks she knows my Dad, afterall, she is my dad’s girlfriend or wife to be, the latter of course is if all goes well and, so I told her straight up and started calling her by name, and she did the same to me.

Every thing was going on so well till my Pa had an argument with Zainab over a stinking tie he’d been wearing for over 25 years ago, and would not throw away

Baba n Zainab’s (Zee) arguement kicked off when Baba could not find his tie one evening in his wardrobe. He started searching frantically and asked me if i saw the tie. I told him i did not see the tie and that if i did c it lying around, i would throw it in the bin. He was fuming and immediately called out to Zainab who was at the time in the house, and asked her about the tie. Zee said she didnt come across any tie, but that she did see a light blue rope which she disposed off. Baba’s eye took colour red.’Where did you throw the tie Zee?’ He said. Zee answered and said what she threw away was not a tie but a light blue rope. How can you say my tie was a rope Zee?.’said Baba’. Haba! Mallam rope ne,aw can you say that rope was a tie? ‘said Zee’. And so the arguement went on while i stood there agape at both of them and @ what they were saying.Zee saw the tie as a rope while Baba saw the rope as a tie. And though i loved the rope part, i had to intervene and asked Zee where she put the rope,it turned out she had burnt it. That singular act turned out to be an undoing-mine and Zee’s. Baba said i conspired with Zee to get rid of his tie,he ordered both of us out to go look for his tie as we disrespected him and intruded into his privacy.The vocabulary list was endless from my Ph.D Dad.

Zee became annoyed and told Baba that if he was sending her out of the house for an inanimate object, then that would be the last time he would see her. Baba did not budge and stood his ground. Zee called a cab and left. When Baba  heard the engine of her cab roar to life, he came into my room and asked me what I was waiting for. I took another cab and went to the cinemas.

I couldn’t help but think about the whole incidence while watching the new movie in town Tango with me. I started to compare some of the characters in the movie with Zee, Baba and I.  Genevieve nnaji was Zee, my dad was her husband, me  Joke Silva. Then I realized that the characters in the film and we three did not fit in so well… my thought veered off that to the reason for Baba’s anger. Why was the rope or tie so important to Baba? Did it have something to do with Mama or mama’s death? Was the tie for his friend or a loved one; was it a kind of a memoir? Because I have never seen Baba like that angry over a piece of rag.

After the cinemas, I went home with kilichi Baba’s favourite snack which I bought from my customer to placate my him, and to also bribe the truth off him. He ate the kilichi but the bribery did not work. The first day passed, the second, third and fourth day passed and Baba did not call Zee to apologise  for his behaviour. Instead he began loosing appetite for food, his favourite channels on tv, his favourite books and talked less. Father was looking like a lost kid on a deserted island and i was furious with his gogobiri(monkey) behavior. So I confronted him  and asked him what it would take him to apologise to Zee and have her back.  Was he going to die if he did? Haba! Baba can be such a thick head.  He answered that he didn’t interfere in all my failed relationships and so I should stay out of his business. Now that made me mad. I told him if he had interfered in them, i would have learnt earlier that sex can never make a man love you better.  I took my writing pad and left the house for Ralia my best friend’s house. After chatting with Ralia I calmed down a bit to write you the first part of this story.

All is well now, because as I write this concluding piece, i can hear Baba and Zee giggling in his room and laughing over what I know nothing of. Zee bought Baba six beautiful designer ties as a way of apologizing for the rope. And Baba apologized for the hurting words he said to me when I came back home that night. He has also become more interested in my relationships. That night, we talked about my relationships, laughed and cried together, while he told me his sexual journeys before he met my Mother.  Then, we strategized on having Zainab back as Baba almost had a heart attack when he went to her shop and found her chatting with a much younger old male friend of hers. The worst part was Zee ignored him terribly and made no introductions. Baba said he stood there looking like an Aristo. Ina uni Mallam, yaya aiki? (Good afternoon Mallam, how is work?) was all he received.

I can now see how something you hold very dear to your heart  can affect your whole being, I  have learnt that when angry we should be careful of what we say, the best we can do is keep quiet, or leave the scene to calm down or to talk to someone else. i have also learnt that it don’t kill to say am sorry, my father lost a lot cos he did not know dat trick and so did Zee. As for me, I am learning to value other people’s feelings, ideas and possessions, even when they look like Baba’s rope, and i have no answers to the questions my heart seeks.



16 thoughts on “Baba And His 29 Yr Old Tie” by larazworld (@larazworld)

  1. Could have been better. Watch your typos and the constructions of your sentences. Not too bad though.

  2. One thing I would like to ask the writer of this piece is what category he/she thinks this piece falls into? If Short Story, this is surely below standard! One thing I am not doubtful of is that the writer did a shoddy and marshy job on this work. The narration is watery to be called creative. One even wonders if this is just some post on one of those lowly-managed blogs out there. It’s true the writer has a message to pass, but that alone isn’t enough if the message can’t be tailored creatively. May I add this; the texting format of some words in this post brings discredits this story the more, the typos are just all over. I’m just being frank; this story needs to be rewritten.

    Please take this advice constructively and let it make the piece better for art sake.

  3. Good story, however i noticed you used short hand in your writing ( e.g. used ‘c’ for see) i’m guessing you’re so used to short hand and u probably didnt notice

  4. Agree mostly with Joseph, I enjoyed the carefree narration you tried to introduce into your writing though.

  5. Interesting story and powerful message of forgivenenss and love but there were a lot of typos that could distract one from the real thing. Look the story over and make corrections but all in all, good story dear!

  6. Babe, wallahi, u think say na text message you dey write? Haba! I saw some flashes of brilliance however. So many corrections need to be made. Try not to over explain yourself, let the reader do some deductions and read between lines. You should be consistent too. ‘Baba’ should not have been replaced with papa or dada.
    More importantly, do not take personal any harsh criticism from our numerous, self acclaimed over published writers like @Joseph Omotayo. That is what we good writers endure here on NS. Some times I feel like slapping these sabi-sabi people. Lol.
    Kin kwokeri, wallahi.

  7. Pls take to heart all the observations above….Kaycee of course is being his naughty self. If you make the necessary corrections, you could have a very endearing story. Keep at it.

  8. Lol. Naughty me abi?

  9. Am not satisfied with the piece…i was expecting you to give a clue concerning the importance of that 25 yrs old TIE. I DINT LIKE IT.

    keep writing!!!

  10. Your story made me laugh. i like it.

  11. tanks kaycee, babara, irene, chetachi, paul, febby and igwe. calm down joseph, just keep up your good work and the result will be a better piece. tanks all for your comments, please keep it coming, you all have made my day.

  12. I enjoyed it.

  13. I like the story shall.

  14. When you sift through the typos, the ‘texting format’ and bad punctuation, there’s a good enough story underneath. It needs a lot of work to shine, though.

  15. I laughed as I read this and that is always a good thing. But read through the comments above if you want to improve. Keep writing!

  16. Imagine U get on a bus to go to Abuja. U pay the fare and settle down comfortably for the ride, expecting to hit Abj soon. U r reassured, and so U take nap….and wake up in Ogun state.

    That’s how I felt.

    The 1st part got me thinking: ‘This is gonna be interesting’, typos n all.
    Well, it was…It was interestingly flawed. Too many typos; like @kaycee said, this ain’t no Text message. Ur beginning, middle and end didn’t connect in any way. No editing, etc.

    While there was a flash of something good, it was just that; a flash. U need to clean up this story.

    P.S. The part were U wrote about the Main Character laughing n crying with her father over her relationships n all that, just didn’t work for me at all.

    Rewrite this. Pay more attention to punctuations cos U used them wrongly here. So many issues wrong here…Work Work WORK!!!

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