He had waited for this day all his life. Finally, Tunde was done with college and he would be moving out of his parents' house. Free from unnecessary chores, boring conversations, long prayers and crazy pressure. Free at last.
Tonight he was going out with the boys. Rob, James, Tim and Rocky were the chaperones of the evening, ushering him into full adulthood. They were going to Casablanca Guest House to have a good time.
Tunde had finished with a second class lower in Law. His parents weren't too happy about the result but he couldn't care less. He was gone.
Beep! Beep!! sounded the horn of Rob's Honda Civic. "We're out here man, where you at?" he queried.
"Just give me five minutes, I need to round up a few chores", Tunde said. "Ah, Mummy's boy", Tim taunted with a smirk. The rest guffawed, enveloping Tunde in a crowd of temporary shame. After all, this was the night he became a man.
He soon rounded up and got into the back seat with James and Rocky while Tim sat in the front seat.
"Why are you all looking at me like that", Tunde suddenly asked looking up at the four pairs of eyes staring at him. "It's nothing man, why are you so paranoid, Mummy's boy", James quipped back. "Oya, oya, you don catch me", Tunde surrendered, trying to look cool. The rest of the ride continued quietly.
They finally got to the Casablanca Guest House. All laughing, they strolled into the bar looking like yahoo boys who had just successfully conned a new client.
"Eyo, in honour of my man, Tunde", Rocky said, "all drinks on me". Riotous shouts filled the bar as everyone hailed Rocky as the man, and went ahead to other drinks. Good cheap champagne was hard to come by and here it was, free at last.
"C'mon, Tundee, drink some more", prodded Tim, "you ain't the one paying after all". They all laughed at this joke and ordered another round of champagne.
It was a beautiful night for each of them, dancing with raunchy girls and getting head till they lost their minds. This continued till 2 in the morning when they all left the bar.
Early in the morning, just a few minutes after six, a young girl on her way back from her boyfriend's house screamed in horror, to alert other passers-by of what she was seeing as she was about to cross the gutter. There was a body drowned in the gutter, apparently dead.
It was Tunde. All his friends were nowhere to be found. No one knows what happened to him. Maybe when his body is retrieved, if the family or the police can afford an autopsy and investigation, we may find out. I doubt it though.
Whether he fell into the gutter in a drunken state and couldn't get out, or his friends drowned him in the gutter, or his drink was poisoned and his body dumped in the gutter, or he was waylaid, strangled and dumped in the gutter, we may never know. But there he lay in the gutter for all to see, free at last.