NOT A PRANK
‘If a dog bites a man, it is not really a big deal to hear. But
when the other way round is being echoed, the ear drum becomes lively to hear
more, and the tongue; eager to ask why. If you hunt for your enemies at the
village square, you will be hunted by your friends on the battle ground’.
These words ended a nicely orchestrated African drama performance
at the National Theater. It was one of the happiest moments in the life of
every young African blood who yearns for the dominance of his culture over
flamboyant western infusion; that has not only left our culture desecrated, it
has totally taken over the minds of so many people including my good friend
Kwame. I don’t really blame him for his disregard for the local cultural
content, but it saddens me when people don’t really care about who they are or where
they come from. A performance that blew the mind of so many, the lovely
girlfriend of Kwame; Mansa was more than happy. However, none of this seem to have
triggered anything called joy in the heart of her ‘mix-raced’ boyfriend. In
fact, as far as Kwame was concerned, that was the most boring night we have
ever spent together.
Kwame takes me out every night on my birthday. Unfortunately, he
has to take me out a night to my birthday because he would be travelling the
next morning. It was a good coincidence for me to use the opportunity and
schedule a very quiet smooching time with my girlfriend; Nafisa, the love of my
life. Belated as it maybe, I still enjoyed it as every birthday night spent
with Kwame and Mansa.
On our way back to campus, Mansa and I were drowned in reminisce of
the just ended performance. We replicated the dance moves and the nicely
orchestrated drama display. It was so good seeing Mansa repeating almost every
phrase used in the last speech of a kind who was to be sacrificed for the
freedom of his people.
We continued to sing at the back seat of the car whiles Kwame sat
quietly on the front seat, looking outside the window. To us, he had no
interest what so ever in all that was been discussed by Mansa and I. He never
altered a word for over thirty minutes of our noise making. After nearly an
hour of driving, Mansa suggested we play a little prank on Kwame just to make
him feel a little lively. I did not really know what will make this guy pay
attention to us. I tried tickling him and pretending to be sleeping, but he
never said a word. I removed my shoe lace and threw it to his face to scare
him, but it didn’t work. After running out of ideas, we resorted to using the
one thing that he cared about the most in his life to play a prank on him.
Mansa took the middle seat and laid her head on my chest. The idea
was to make him feel jealous and cry out. It sounded fishy, but Mansa finally
convinced me that it would definitely work on him. I did not see it as a bad
move because he has played a similar prank on me before and we all laughed
about it. I however failed to look at
the context at which I was playing this prank as not really funny, but I wanted
to cheer up my friend. Besides, even though it was my day, I had to convince
him that he would have the best night at the national theater than going to the
Turkish Restaurant for some unknown Turkish meal. I saw it upon myself as a
friend that I still had the opportunity to make it up to him. Little did I know
that the last words of the king in that drama play, was actually going to be
experienced by me.
Finally, Mansa lays on my chest and we both looked comfortable like
we have been mooching for hours. A few meters to our hostel, Kwame told the
driver to take us to Mensah Sarbah Hall, where Mansa stayed before heading
towards to the Vandal City. At the close of the road just before the vehicle
started to slow down, I also closed my eyes in pretense that I was also asleep.
The vehicle finally stopped and I expected to hear Kwame’s voice but I didn’t.
Neither did I hear a band on the door by anyone getting down. I felt silly and
happy because I knew my prank was hitting him, but the silence was too long.
And just when I opened my eyes. I saw the shock of my life. I felt like that
cursed thief in the old Sissala Legend; who goes to bed in his room and wakes
up on top of the Afajato Mountain. I opened my eyes to see Kwame holding up his
camera and filming everything. At that moment, my silence had already proven me
guilty of what it seemed as mooching with his girlfriend. Immediately, my two
other roommates appeared from nowhere. After a few minutes, a scene was
created. I felt stupid in the situation to open my mouth and say; it was just a
prank. Oh! My God, we over did it; I said to myself. I tried everything
possible to convince Kwame that it was indeed a prank. But the anger and the
disappointment in his face made me a dumb and a complete idiot. Mansa was not very helpful in solving the
situation, she stood there quietly for a while and left for her room. Kwame on
the other hand, sat back in the car and went to the hall without me. It was a long shameful walk from the Mensah
Sabah hall to the Vandals City. When I got to the hall, it was a parade of all
the bad boys in the hood, who did not like my friendship with the rich
Ghanaian-American. They kept poking and laughing at me, calling me all sort of
names; the mooching killer, papa-mia, king mooching, etc. I just couldn’t take
it any longer.
Finally, there I was, standing in front of my door and yet feeling
like; a stranded lamb seeking for shelter in the house of a wolf. If I had my
way, I would have slept elsewhere. I just couldn’t imagine what awaited me the
very moment I walk into that room. Without announcing my presence, I decided to
enter without knocking. I gently opened the door and entered. It was so very
dark I could barely see my own fingers. I thought Kwame was sleeping so I
didn’t want to turn on the light. After all, I had caused him too much pain to
deny him a sound sleep.
Half way into the room, I heard footsteps behind me. I became very
terrified as I knew what a man could do to fight for the one he loves. Even
though Kwame is a very patient person, I couldn’t afford to think he had very
cruel plans to get back at me for what he is accusing me of doing. I turned
around suddenly with fright and a little bit of anger. Unfortunately, I saw a
female figure; it was no other than Mansa. Several thought stared to run
through my head but I refused to settle on one. Before I could utter a word,
she turned on the light and smiled at me. Then I heard a mix of laughter and
applauses from behind. All my friends were in the room including Kwame. Everyone
was holding bottles of drinks and food was all over. Then Kwame pulled out a
huge cake with my name boldly iced on it. He came close to me; looked deeply
into my eyes and said to me; happy belated birthday to the best friend I have
ever had in my entire life.
At that moment, I became an embodiment of a confused man who did
know what to do. Verily; emotional intelligence never made sense to me till
that very day. I was so shocked to see everyone laughing and deeply rooted into
what seemed to me like some merry making. At the end of the day, it was
obviously the time someone told me what exactly was going on as I sincerely did
not have a clue. Can someone explain to me what is happening here? I asked in
surprise. Then, Kwame started to explain; Mansa and I decided to give a very
special take this time around by playing a prank on you.
That was what she suggested we played on you; I asked while I turn
to look at Mansa, demanding a confirmation from her. She smiled and continued to explain; we
orchestrated this whole plan and it work. The whole time when Kwame was looking
disappointed from the theater was all an act. As a matter of fact, he actually
liked the performance. Like the performance? Kwame interrupted; I loved it, he
said with joy. And to prove that, here is your ticket. We are watching the next
performance tomorrow night.
Wait a minute; but you are travelling tomorrow; I asked. Well am
sorry I lied to you but the good thing is, I cannot miss your birthday for
anything in this world. It was all part of the plan, and so am all available
for every fun tomorrow; Kwame said by tapping my shoulders.
I felt so relieved of my guilt. I felt a kind of happiness that can
almost be equated to seeing snow fall for the first time. It was as if I had
accomplished a huge task and removed the heaviest burden in my life. Deep down
my heart, I knew my joy was not from the fact that Kwame was not pissed off
with me and that it was all a prank on me, but rather, I was happy my prank on
Kwame did not succeed. Had it not been a planned event, the outcome indicators
would have not been too different. I saw the importance of assertiveness and
pro-activeness in all my dealings. As a matter of fact, I still owe Kwame an
apology as a faithful friend. Had it been a test of loyalty, I would have
failed.
Fortunately for me, whiles the party was going on, Kwame walked up
to me at the balcony to render his apologies for all that I had to go through
to finally realize it was all a prank. It’s fine, you did what you had to do
for me; I said. As a matter of fact, am also sorry I agreed to play a prank
with your girlfriend that way.
The party is there, not here; an expected interruption from Mansa,
as we noticed she was not comfortable with our isolated chat. We joined
everyone in the room, and it was all about the rhythm of the song against the
waist. It was a long night of fun, laughter and joy. But at the end of the day,
great lessons were learnt, friendship bonds were depend and lovely memories
kept. What started out as a prank, was actually not a prank, but
a rejuvenation of happiness and a long journey of happy stories.
The end…
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