By Niyi Sodimu
I was about to enter into the rest room when a lady suddenly emerged from the hallowed chamber! I looked at her critically, then at the label on the glass door at the entrance, just to confirm, once again. It was still boldly written, “Male only” made bold and obvious for anyone that could claim to have been mistaken. In fact, there was the drawing of a boy clearly defining the gender authorised to enter. The manly man in me wanted to immediately react and point out her grave error, but then I remembered…
One good old day back in school, I urgently stood outside the door of the restroom hip-hopping to avoid a volcanic eruption from my device in “the other room”. The current occupant of the male rest room seemed not to be in a hurry. “That guy must have consumed sour beans mixed with spoilt rotten boiled egg and washed it down with fermented condensed milk further condensed by the forces of nature”, I thought to myself, upset of course. Otherwise, what else would have kept a grown man in a public restroom for what looked like eternity.
To avoid the imminent spill of kainji dam, which I was scared of, after all, you have to maintain your fine boy, I gripped the front of my pants effectively restraining my instrument from even thinking let alone attempting to discharge its ‘liquid contents’. I held on firmly in a bid to avoid an imminent outbreak of hot, coloured lemonade-looking like liquid. I would later watch its free flow in admiration and awe.
Suddenly, it came to me, subtly, ‘use the ladies’. At first, I ignored the thought, wondering to myself, “how can!” But then, a desperate moment calls for a desperate action commensurate to the level and degree of desperation. So, I thought to myself, “why not! I dashed into the ladies like a gazelle that had just encountered an extremely famished lion; don’t ask me how I know what one looks like.
Ahhhhhh! I exhaled, as the hot liquid flowed freely into the toilet bowl, steadily pumping and caressing the edges of the bowl gracefully like a chilled beer into a tumbler with all the bubbles intact and undisturbed. It was such a sight to behold! At one time, it looked like a fountain; at another, it looked like rainfall upon grateful grasses full of gratitude at the heavenly showers of blessings. The relief was priceless, precious and cannot be purchased for anything in the world, not even sliced bread. For all I care, the feeling could last forever, and I was not in a hurry. Perhaps, I had already forgotten that I was trespassing into another territory. In fact, for a moment, I was oblivious to my surroundings; time seemed to have paused.
I was about “repacking”, when a lady hurriedly stepped into the restroom unaware of an intruder, me. That was when I realised I had forgotten to lock the door behind me. “Chai! See mess up!” I exclaimed to myself. “This is for the ladies”, she screamed with a voice that reminded me of the screeching megaphone that usually rudely wakes someone up at about 5 am when you are about to enter the last lap of your sweet heavenly sleep. Folks who live on the Mainland, particularly those crowded areas, can relate.
In a confused state, I hurriedly turned around and with mixed surprise and confusion laced with a good dose of anger, still holding my property in my hand, I retorted, “this is also for the ladies, you know!” Shocked at my audacity and perhaps, realising the truth of my claim, she hissed and left in a rush with a certain look on her face. I smiled to myself, relishing the sweet taste of over-fresh victory.