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    Do you love eating Beans?
    Here is the story of BEANS…..

    “I come from a family that loves beans. We love beans so much that we can eat it, morning afternoon and night.

    One day, I prepared to travel to the East. The night before the journey from nkambe, I ate more than enough beans.

    I boarded a fully air-conditioned Hummer bus very early in the morning from ndu bus stop.

    We commenced the journey like every other good people, no wahala.

    We stopped at Jakiri to eat, the driver was selfish to drop us at a place where food was quite costly. Apparently, because the drivers are normally given free package when they bring clients to them.

    I had to buy things outside the fast food, I bought egg roll, suya and groundnuts.

    They were all bad combinations, coupled with a glass of palm wine which I used to escort all the things I bought down my system.

    After eating, we continued the journey. We didn’t go for 15 minutes when a serious protest in my stomach began.

    The reaction was worst than the South African xenophobia.

    I was afraid and shy to notify the driver to stop the vehicle so I could go and ease my self because of other passengers.

    At that time a man was preaching in the bus with anger as if he was doing it against his will. All his preaching was about hell fire, hell fire.

    But the tension was unbearable, I thought to myself which hellfire will be worse than what I was going through. I started sweating profusely even under the heavy air condition in the bus.

    I threw caution to the wind and shouted to the driver: “Oga abeg look for somewhere and park, I wan shit!

    The driver shouted at me: “your father..come force me to stop na, you nor see toilet for Jakiri ”

    Every passenger in the bus was on me, some abusing my ancestors, some my father while the rest abused my village..

    Even the preacher was angry with me.

    They asked why I didn’t do it when we stopped to eat at Jakiri.

    But I was not discouraged, I shouted again at the driver to stop and he said: “my friend shit am there.”

    My younger brother, Jeff who was in the bus with me whispered to me, he said: “bro, things like this you convert it to mess, so you can get some relief without causing any harm”

    Based on my condition, I bought the idea immediately.

    So when the tension became unbearable, I raised my bombom as if I was adjusting my sitting pattern, I released the first silent but deadly mess, pheeewww shhhhhhhhh.

    LAWD! it was the worst thing I ever perceived in the past thirty years.

    The stench was like a gas bomb, highly choking pungent smell. The air condition didn’t help matters as it amplified and spread the message around to every part of the vehicle..

    The man sitting next to me by the right who was eating chicken looked at me, he looked at my brother, he smelt his chicken and said: “it looks like something is sparking in this vehicle, or is it my chicken that is smelling like this? These fast food people can kill person o”

    I shook my head and said: honestly, people are wicked, better stop buying chicken there.”

    The man said: “You are right.”

    He threw it away.

    But my stomach was not okay yet, I released the second mess concurrently in a double progression, it was like a biological weapon.

    A little child that was breastfeeding on her mother’s breast while sleeping screamed with terrifying fear as if she was chased by a dreaded kibarankoh masquerade in her dream, her mother was shouting: “blood of Jesus, blood of Jesus.”

    Two passengers behind me started accusing each other of being responsible ..none of them remembered me. Even the few flies that were inside the bus were flying haphazardly like drunken creatures.

    Few seconds later the bus was like a madhouse with quarrels amongst passengers.

    They abused themselves with their different languages.

    When I released the third one, I started getting some relief, but like a spell there was abrupt silence. The preacher started shouting: “I can see there is a ‘fowl’ spirit in this bus, if you know you are here trying to do the mandate of the devil, confess now or I will invoke fire from heaven.”

    I didn’t mind him because I was saving my life, so I released the fourth one, he started shouting: “Every contrary spirit that has been mandated to kill us in this bus, what are you waiting for? Die by fire, die die die.”

    It was as if the more I released the mess, the more it formed again, so I released another deadly one. The preacher kept quiet and slowly sat down as if he was given a spiritual slap for trying to touch the anointing of the lord, he kept murmuring silently: “blood of Jesus.”

    The driver suddenly held a sharp break and said: “wey that man wen wan shit? I beg come go shit before you kill all my passengers, you no get conscience? Abi you no dey go church? This na new motor wey company give me, see how you don change the scent.

    I didn’t answer him, I went out quietly and when I came back I didn’t see anybody in the bus. They had also gone to do the same thing too.”

    Innocent me

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