A Pinch of Genius

Ato Aikins-49ecbd39

A piece-of-me is all they want, everyday I see someone sending me a friend request even my Twitter is overloaded with a stranger retweeting my fullstops. This looks like a wish I had long ago but now I wish the wish can be edited.


Call me Daniel Daystar, born to a family of twelve, with 6-elder-brothers and 3-younger-sisters and all I had was my ingenuity that was a laughing stock to the whole village at the time because my inventions made me a clown, and who am I to blame them.


I remember weaving a cup and like its cousin, it could not hold water or the time I made a concussion with chicken-poop for hair-growth and painted papa’s head, causing him to choked-out of sleep and you know what? He flogs the hell out of me which he said was beating the madness out, guess what, It didn’t work. 


The most hilarious of all my inventions, though I loved it dearly because after that my ingenuity grew in bounds. This invention placed me on the cover of our local newspaper calling me boy-genius —like jimmy neutron, nope. It gave me my first taste of success though the whole community laughed so hard there laughter was laughing, yet all I heard was ‘you are the best, you are the greatest, Daniel go make us proud (I no be Kano.), It’s in you (even if I know drink peak). This invention was a sheer stroke of luck because the timing was just impeccable. Like always, I just received another dose of lashes from papa and apologises from mama, asking me to repent, to change how I view the world, to see through their eyes, to understand their feelings, which brought me close to giving-up because mama’s tears meant alot. 


The next day, I decided to look through their eye then hit me. “Look through their eyes.” I juggled the thought around then screamed. “mama, papa!” I ran to their room picked the binding wire papa used to fence the farm in the backyard then my brother’s room where the poster of one oyinbo was and accessed his shades and all that is left is mama’s teardrop then “par” I go they see wetin they see— I was less than ten and grew up in a village, so I believe in juju— 

I put it on and ran out to mama for her teardrop.

“Mama!” I shouted around the house.”MaaaaMaaa?” I was confused because Mama should be at home. “Chinewe.” I call my immediate sister to test it, still the-same then it hit me, Ada always cries out when I call her —I don’t know why but my 2-years-old-sister who glued to mama, been the last child, has my back, even when I cry she cries with me, she is my precious baby-sister even now that she is engaged—  “Ada!” I shouted. “Ada, kedu ebe i no? (where are you?)” and still no response. “Did they—Why would they travel without me, I am still their son.” I was sad and went into the house to drown in tears and then saw a rat, maybe the rat’s tears will work. I pursued the rat— I have a low attention index— till I lost it and ended up far from home but providence seem to have a better plan for me when I saw this man looking around lost, not knowing he was the new manager of the local news and has come for a documentary but found himself separated from his team due to his curiosity depth not in check, only thinking about the best story. He was pretty useless except for his journalist skills which included an ability to sweet-talk and read the slightest emotional-shift, he was like a detective only with the— what? What was I saying before?

“How you meet the man.”

“Oh thank you?” 


Like I said he was of no good, his talent could not save him in a situation like this, yet he kept questioning me about my life and as one who was tough and doesn’t talk to strangers, I kept talking like a loose tap but to my surprise, he was interested, unlike the community he was interested and what did I do? Did I stop talking? YeeeNo, No I just kept blabbering until I finally revealed my “see through another person’s eye” thing 


“Can I try it”

“No!” I said. 

“Okay, Take my tears.” I was tempted but was afraid to see what went on in a white man’s head.

“I only need my parent’s tears.” I lied.

“Too bad.” He felt sad and down-casted

“Please don’t —We are here!” I shouted to distract him. “Mama, Papa.” I had forgotten they had left but to my shock, I had the kitchen plate rattling. “Who is in my—” mama ran out with anger.

“Daniel! Where have—” She stood transfixed. “Danny, nah oyinbo dey ya back abi nah me dey dream.” Mama has always loved the white, and she sometimes threatened Papa that she was a woman and if he hit her, she would run away with a white man and then throw him in jail, even his spirit would not escape.

But long story short, Mama told me they went to greet the press people who came to the village and how they joined to look for their oga which happened to be lost and now with him. The gravity of it made little or no effect on me, I was famished and ran in after-which I came outside and was hit by flashlight that I thought was met to steal my soul but instead placed me on the front cover of a newspaper as a Genius even though the community did not let me live it down saying the flash took my soul and put it in paper because of the nuisance I have been causing but the press told another story as you can see me today.

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