February 18, 2017

TALES OF A WORRIED SPERM

 

Reuben was born on the 19th of November 1982 to the family of Utom Emmanuel. I remember very well how his father grasped his then girlfriend’s butt and drew maps on her navel. “Please baby, let me just enter, it doesn’t mean much.” Had Utom knew that Reuben did mean ‘a much’ he would have withdrawn his ‘fragile and helpless penis.’ I saw Reuben even in his third birthday collecting biscuits from girls his mother had invited from the neighborhood. Unfortunately nature have not always supported me to raise my eyebrows on occasions like this. He was a bloody three years old boy, yet I knew the battle that would await us in future. Meanwhile, there had been cave dwelling machinations under the sag humans called scrotum. At age fourteen, my neighbours began to raise, alongside myself, from slumber. Reuben’s voice became deeper, his armpit grew some strands of white comatosed hairs and my backyard started growing shrubs. I would laugh each time Reuben would deceive himself to believing he was already an adult. His friends had even suggested he bought a beard-growing cream from the pharmacist opposite his secondary school. He had however, forgot that I was yet to be fully awoke!

It was 10:55 am on tuesday, when Reuben caused a riot. A riot that would taunt him for the rest of his life as a boy. “Guy, don’t you want to have a girlfriend?” “Why don’t you go and tell Expeno that you love her?” “Don’t you even know there’s a connection between sex and education, between sex and brains?” These were the voices Reuben started hearing as he planned to write his WAEC in 2000. This riot began when he went into the bathroom that evening. For some unknown reason, Reuben’s hands found its way to touching my expeller. Be rest assured I rose from the dead. Finally, in less than 5 minutes, all the energy I have kept for the past 15 years would now be out. I felt the sensation, the power, the sweat and the confused joy in Reuben’s face as he discovered a new way of urinating.

For the next four years, the bathroom had become his favourite project. No, actually! He moved this project to his bedroom. And Yes! He would lock himself till am satisfied. I can’t forget the many times Reuben prayed to God for forgiveness and the times he had a knee-jerk reaction in Ekpeno’s presence. Ekpeno had the most beautiful oval eyes in school. Her clinical and calculated steps mistook her for a model. The dimples on her face and her broad nose was matched by her ever attractive smile. The only day I smiled in Reuben’s scrotum was when he struggled to read Sigmund Freud psycho-analysis. The same book Peter had studied himself.

Oh, I wish Reuben knew that each self-juicing experience was part of his growing up process. He should know that masturbation, “has its own appealing statistics – 92% adult men and almost 62% adult women masturbate; it is popular among everyone including celibates. It has a lot to do with the prostrate and helps with menstrual cramps.” (Sarcasmlol.com). I wish he could accept the experience and live above it maturely. He never even knew that I could smell Ekpeno’s desire for him as well. How could he? When his own father refused to give him a guiding idea to accepting himself.


Be present to your son/daughter. Always!

 

Written by David Francis E.

My name is David Francis and the nature of my engagements include:

Philosophy (University of Jos, Nigeria); Research Consultant (St. Albert’s Institute, Fayit-Fadan, Kaduna, Nigeria); Editor (Sapientia African Leadership Formation Programme, e. V Address: Badenstedter Street, 99 30453, Hannover, Germany); Editor (African Home Reintegration, Spinnereistrasse 1A 30449, Hannover, Germany); Literature (S. E. M. S. Nassarawa State, Nigeria); Former Associate Editor, “Periscope Magazine,” Abuja and Columnist, “Seekers Delight Magazine,” Kaduna.

I simply try to question the ‘happy darkness’ by encouraging more hands to minimize ignorance. Just a dose of knowledge, is enough in training the mind, to conform to nothing except truth. Let’s ride this train together!

Send a message, or for inquiries to  francisaquaticus2@gmail.com

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