The first thing you noticed about him was that he was always undecided. Be it the choice of a shirt to wear or what to have for dinner, Richard was always confused. You know, at first, I thought he had a low IQ or a learning disability, but after our first year ending with him maintaining one of the highest grades in the faculty, being mentally challenged was out of the equation. So I concluded he either had multiple personalities or was just deliberately annoying.
“I am going to keep an afro!”
He came back from lectures one evening and announced to the room.
“What do you think? Would it fit my face?”
He continued to no one in particular.
“Tonye and Joy said it would look good on me. Guys come on, what do you think?”
He kept on his tirade.
No one responded to his “soliloquy” as we have all learnt the hard way to either ignore him till he tires out or moves on to the room next door to get their opinion. But that also often fails, seeing as everyone on our block has mastered the art of ignoring him whenever he starts his questioning sprees, then he would move to his last resort and call his mother. Really, a mother’s love bears all.
We’ve often speculated as to why Richard was incapable of making simple personal decisions by himself. Boma said he was suffering from the only child syndrome. He had the undivided attention of his parents and so he didn’t see anything wrong with his behaviour since his parents did not encourage otherwise. Fred and I concurred. I wouldn’t go as far as to saying he was spoilt or bad mannered, however, his childishness was irritating. In my own opinion, he needs a therapist or a psychologist. The guy was 18 years old for Pete’s sake.
The other day, he and Boma went shopping at Yaba market. Yes, the same Yaba market you know. You know how exhausting and tiring shopping at that market can be, so its needless to say that you go with your armour full of “Leave me”, “Please don’t touch me”, “I’m not buying curtains”, “No, I’m not braiding my hair”.
You are going to need those lines a lot. (Don’t think because you’re a guy you won’t be asked to come braid your hair. Prepare to be surprised.)
And even with you armor full, I still believe there is an art to shopping at that market and if you don’t master it, even after saying a hundred leave me’s, your shopping purposes may be defeated.
So let’s start with Rule 1.
Make a clearly detailed list. Whether mental or pen to paper list. Just make it. With proper specifications. I know some of you would still waltz in without a list, snorting at my advice, well, I told you so.
Rule 2.
Place your right hand on your chest, eyes shut tight and repeat:
I, (insert your name) will not be swayed by those sweet talking dubious discounts offering Ibo boys who promise to get me deals of once in a lifetime and make me lose focus on what I came to buy!
Well, Rule 2 is not compulsory, but I advise you to heed it. Once, it crossed my mind that that market had something going on that was bordering on the spiritual. Just saying. You don’t think so? Okay I hear.
Boma said he wanted to go shopping for a few pieces of clothing. Then Richard piped up that he wanted to go get something from the market too. The red flag was nobody asked him what.
I’m sure you already know how that shopping expenditure ended. With Richard’s indecisive spirit and Yaba’s over persuasive traders, it is needless to say that he came back home with several ripped jeans that were 4 sizes smaller and a whole lot of stuff he didn’t even need!
Now, if his silly indecisive nature had brought pain on him alone, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid or lifted a finger from the assignment I was adding finishing touches to, but for Boma who he dragged all over the large market in the hot sun who is now exhausted on my bed with blisters lining his feet.
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