MIGERIA; Mouse Planet

Minnie mouse dragged her fat body as she rushed to Oluyole-market, Oyo (western Migeria) before the rain pours. Her family had just moved to the village from Port Harcourt (southern Migeria), where her husband, Mickey worked as a security guard for Chevron oil plant before it was bombed by the Niger-Delta-Avengers (a group of southerners, fighting the government because the crude-oil exploiting activities from its land has rendered farmlands futile, fishes dead, and water undrinkable, courtesy of oil spills).

As Minnie struggled amidst the crowd, she saw Maria: her old friend.

“Maria!” Minnie screamed, innocently surprised.

“Minnie!” she shouted, mutually astound.

Both lady-mice locked each other in a warm hug. Maria asked what Minnie was doing in Ibadan and she narrated how Mickey had lost his job and resulted to their relocation.

Minnie asked where Maria was heading to and Maria said, “I am rushing to the police station, my sister, Monica has just been arrested. This her Biafra activism has been landing her in series of troubles oh. Biafra rally today, Biafra rally tomorrow. She is just obsessed by Biafra’s freedom from Migeria.”

“When Biafra finally gets her freedom, Monica might become the first president,” Minnie teased innocuously.

“Did this ‘APC change’ economy affect you?” Maria asked half laughing. Exposing her yellowish-brown set of teeth.

“We are managing,” Minnie replied, “things are now trice their former price, paint of rice is now N1,600 from N750. Tomatoes is now red-gold, but my dear, Migerians will continue suffering and smiling.” She paused. “At least, that’s what we do best.” She concluded

“Dollar has now increased,” Maria added, her mouth twisted to the left, “fuel price increased, even the sun’s intensity,…..”

“Increased,” both ladies chorused and laughed dryly. Their laughter would have been flavoured by colourful seasoning, but for the exacerbating nature of the impending predicament

Just then thunder lightening escorted by ‘Gbudugbudum’ sound, struck.

“Jesu! (Jesus in Yoruba), this rain has finally caught up with me, let me run along.”

Both ladies exchanged goodbyes and parted.

 

 

Author: John Okori                Email                    Twitter

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