This conversation with self begins half-day, half-night on April 1st of any year in a house built with flesh and bones. It doesn’t exist as much as you don’t exist.
Oluwatobi: Happy Birthday!
Samuel: Same to you. Should we sing a birthday song?
Oluwatobi: Uhm… except we have to form ours… the normal birthday song is jaded… it has lost its salt to too many tongues. Wait, why do you think people cut birthday cake? It is to add sweetness to the tasteless birthday song.
Samuel: Are you going poetic on your birthday again?
Oluwatobi: Once a poet, always a poet.
Samuel: That sounds clichéd like the birthday song you don’t want to sing
Oluwatobi: I never said I don’t want to sing a birthday song. I just want creative innovation, not ancient nursery rhymes.
Samuel: Okay, forget birthday songs. Tell me, what do you think on our birthday?
Oluwatobi: I’m not thinking, I’m wishing.
Samuel: Oh, interesting. So what do you wish?
Oluwatobi: I wish I can look into the eyes of everyone telling us happy birthday, and scream “April Fool” at them
Samuel: What kind of a wish is that? Certainly, not a good one
Oluwatobi: Not a good one? What makes something good or bad?
Samuel: I don’t know. Ask Google or God?
Oluwatobi: Really? Now let’s talk about God
Samuel: God? Isn’t he too big to occupy the space in your mouth?
Oluwatobi: Don’t worry, my mouth is elastic… it can swallow heaven and earth, and there will be space for other planets and hell.
Samuel: Oh,the blasphemous poet! Crucify him! Crucify him!
Oluwatobi: Jewish Samuel. Hey Hitler, I got a Jew here.
Samuel: That’s not fair. Hitler was a beast against Jewish humanity.
Oluwatobi: True. Aren’t we just joking? Remember, we were born on a Fools’ Day.
Samuel: Wow. Does that mean we are fools?
Oluwatobi: We may be. Who knows? It’s fun to be a fool.
Samuel: I refuse to be a fool.
Oluwatobi: Interesting. But does foolishness refuse you? I don’t think so. To fool is human, to wise is divine.
Samuel: Uhm… talking about divinity. You said we should talk about God, remember?
Oluwatobi: Oh, yes. God. Remember what Elizabeth realises in Bessie Head’s A Question of Power?
Samuel: That God is the people, and Elizabeth is his prophet?
Samuel: Don’t tell me you believe that?
Oluwatobi: I believe what I want to believe. Anyway, forget that. I think God is Marxist.
Samuel: God? Marxist? Why?
Oluwatobi: You remember the story of Lazarus (the beggar) and the Rich Man. Lazarus is a proletarian while the rich man is an aristocrat. And remember Jesus said that the possibility of a rich man entering heaven is as high as the possibility of a camel going through the eye of the needle?
Samuel: Are you insinuating that heaven is the paradise of the poor?
Oluwatobi: Who knows? Well, forget that. Another thing I will like to tell you about is that it seems God enjoys the sight of disunity.
Oluwatobi: Nope. I think I’m Christian. And only a fool will insult a God greater than him. I’m a fool, I know, but a fabulous fool, or more appropriately, a smart fool.
Samuel: So what fact or proof do you have for your claim?
Oluwatobi: Well, why do you think sin can infect something God considers as good if He doesn’t allow it? Why does God allow Lucifer to do what he is doing to the people of the earth? Are they game partners? Remember the Tower of Babel? Why did God create confusion among people whose sole aim appears to be that they want to get closer to God and really know Him? Why should God allow you to come to this world, a place He has created for you, and warn you not to love the world? Are you to hate your habitation?
Samuel: Hey, young man, enough of these blasphemies! God is simply complicated and mysterious. We are too human to understand Him
Oluwatobi: Uhm… smart fool, I like that. We are too human to understand God. Anyway, do I even understand me?
Samuel: Are you a writer or a philosopher?
Oluwatobi: I am who I am. Or Ayam woo ayam!
Samuel: That is neither here or there. You haven’t answered my question.
Oluwatobi: If I am made in God’s likeness, I’m definitely as complicated and mysterious as God. So don’t bother to understand me.
Samuel: You need prayers!
Oluwatobi: Really? Okay. Father, my eyes are closed, pray for me.
Samuel: Who is your father?
Oluwatobi: He knows himself.
Samuel: Can you be straightforward for once?
Oluwatobi: Have I been bent-backward?
Samuel: May God have mercy on you!
Oluwatobi: On me? Or on us? Are you no longer me? Oh, you can’t wait for death to separate us?
Samuel: Now talking about death. On what day do you think you will die?
Oluwatobi: Oh, Wednesday.
Samuel: Why Wednesday?
Oluwatobi: Well, I was born on a Saturday, a three syllabic word. And I can only die on a day with three syllabic word. So Wednesday sounds right…
Samuel: Wow. You are not serious.
Oluwatobi: And since no other word has more number of syllables in the days of the week, it simply means I will live long. The longer the syllable, the longer the life.
Samuel: You are really not serious. Anyway, did you see heaven when you fainted a few Wednesdays ago?
Oluwatobi: I think so
Oluwatobi: Don’t you believe me anymore?
Samuel: I think I do. So what does heaven look like?
Oluwatobi: Well, the heaven I saw was the Heaven of Blur!
Samuel: Wow. You must be out of your mind.
Oluwatobi: Are you insulting your otherness on our birthday?
Samuel: So it is still our birthday?
Oluwatobi: Nope, it is still our bye-day.
Samuel: You are really not serious. Anyway, happy birthday once again.
Oluwatobi: Same to you. We wish ourselves what we wish ourselves
Samuel: Uhm… May God have mercy on us!
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