ALL ABOUT THE BENZII

Third Avenue Gwarimpa

I have been learning in ways I never knew I could, about how life is a little bubble, and that expectations are very relative. I have always loved to form ideas in my head, to question things that perhaps are most unorthodox, but then it is the perplexing thoughts that usually bring the most clarity, it is almost like having the guts to question these things, soothes you a bit, and a question becomes an answer without really getting the answers you would expect, or getting it in forms you never envisaged-or not getting any at all.

My very recent lesson, happened in the most unexpected place, and moment. It was a very typical day, with me dealing with the scorching sun, and wondering why the weather was always too hot, without any balance between it and the incessant rainfall, I had to drive through the streets of Gwarimpa, something I always try to avoid, especially the third avenue, and just as I got to where I was headed, which was a very popular eatry on the side of the road, I heard a very little voice behind me. It sounded very frail, almost like a whisper, I was not going to pay attention to it, when I felt someone tap me. I turned to find a very little boy, he could not have been more than eleven, his face looked tired and pale, and it was obvious to see that he had been out in the sun for most of the afternoon, he had his shorts all sagged, and his shirt had little holes all around it. It was not his looks that drew up my emotions, it was not his clothes, none of that, rather, it was his question.

“Sir, how much is a Benziii ”.

Those were the words I heard him say. I wondered how he could break into a narrative, or bring up the obvious dialogue between himself and his thoughts, into that very moment, or why he brought the question to me, but it was not a typical one, it was easy to depict that there was some searching around it, some desire, there was a little more all around him.

I forgot what I had gone there for, and sat with this young boy at the side of the road, and one thing was obvious, I had a dreamer with me, I had someone that was just like myself with a lot of questions to ask, and a lot of lessons to give as well. He told me he loved cars, and that he always compared them to women, according to him, you can feel them, you can touch them as well, and they always come with different sounds. He said himself and his brothers loved to draw cars.

“we dey draw car when we smoke grass oga".

I asked him, what exactly he meant, but he looked at me with a faint smirk on his face, and laughed for a while.

In his littered words, he told me about newness, he was able to indirectly teach me, how it all had to be new from the beginning of our consciousness, even if it was as old as a lifetime, regardless of what it was. Every entity or object starts to exist with us when we recognize it, he was acknowledging something he wanted to own, he was already making it his.

In his littered words, he told me about newness, he was able to indirectly teach me, how it all had to be new from the beginning of our consciousness, even if it was as old as a lifetime, regardless of what it was. Every entity or object starts to exist with us when we recognize it, he was acknowledging something he wanted to own, he was already making it his.

“I dey find the price, so that I go fit buy am wen moni dey”.

Every word from him spiralled into a flake of realizations and meanings to complex questions, that would not have come to me in more structured conversations. Almost like the little pieces were supposed to find themselves and me all at the same time.

And so a simple conversation opened my mind up, and I strongly believe hope is a raw pill, that in its way pulls us to a place where we believe our desires are attainable. So we sat together for a long while, taking notes of all the cars that drove past us at that point, trying to mark out all the Mercedes Benz cars, and we did find a few. Eventually I had to leave, I told him I was going to look out for him the next time I was in the area, with that I got back to my car and drove off. Just as I got to my house, I reached for my pocket to get my keys out, only to realize my wallet was gone, as well as one of my mobile phones. At first I was in shock, perplexed as to how a very comfortable moment became an opening for theft, and how my new found friend was willing to trade our friendship for the items he had stolen from me. Then it all became clear to me, and I laughed hysterically, the young boy was full of hope but was also conscious of the present, and his survival, and this was my greatest lesson.

We are all allowed to dream, and have vivid pictures of what we would like to see happen, but it is the present moments, bit by bit, that make up that future, and to be in it without an awareness of today is like a ship with no anchor, drifting with the tides.

And so I met a special lad, who wanted a Benz, my wallet and mobile phone as well, I guess a dream is never enough.