Author’s note: Two different open bar chapters were written. The girls at the next table get into an argument with Jide after they recognise him, but this was deleted. He was originally supposed to be hit by a car the next day after waking up in the middle of town, but his sudden death in the hands of the motor park mob after he’s caught stealing is much stronger.


“Hey, hey, wait a minute.” Everyone turned as the eagle-eyed server who had been watching me closely snatched my golf hat off my head, coiling back in horror as my face was revealed. “It’s Titus Okoroafor. I’ve seen you in Ovation, and you’re in the news. It’s Titus Okoroafor everyone!”

  “Are you fucking stupid?” I slurred back. “Who told you I’m Titus Okoroafor? Better mind yourself, or I’ll give you a dirty slap…”

“Oh my God, it’s him!” One of the ladies shouted. “You’re Titus Okoroafor. Stop lying, you can hide those scars behind that beard, but I know it’s you.”

Chineke meh!” The proprietor approached my table as if she was about to confront a flea-infested rabid dog. “Oga, what are you doing in my bar, eh? Wonders shall never end.” 

“Indeed.” One of the die-hard female fans stood from the round table, her short cocktail dress revealing an endless pair of legs balancing on ridiculously long heels. “Why are you here, looking for your next victim?”

“You hookers shut the fuck up over there!” I jumped to my feet unsteadily, holding onto the back of my chair for support. “Why don’t you return to the street corners where you all belong and pick up money with your vaginas?”

“Who are you calling hookers?” another member of the group shouted back. “I said who are you calling hookers? I’m a secretary with NEPA, and I use my brain, unlike you who used his dick to fuck his way up to the top.You think you can judge me simply because I dress how I like and drink where I like? Do you see any men at our table?” 

“We’ll rather be hookers than rapists, at least ours would be consensual,” the long-legged woman hissed, and her companions nodded in agreement. “Stupid man.” 

“I said shut the fuck up!” Grabbing my Gulder bottle, I wobbled towards their table with the intent of cracking their skulls open, but toppled over a rock in my path and fell flat on my face, sending the astonished customers into uncontrollable fits of laughter.  


  My head throbbed painfully as I slowly opened my eyes to find several more pairs gawping down at me in my hungover state as I lay in the stagnant gutter wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I had no recollection of what had happened the previous night after losing my balance and tripping in front of everyone at the open-air bar; how I’d found myself half-naked in this filth was a mystery. How was I going to reach home with a stitch of clothing? And who had robbed me of my remaining cash?

The growing crowd surrounding me jeered unsympathetically as I climbed out of the gutter, but I was too embarrassed to answer back – all I wanted was to return to my mini flat. I was also too weak to pay attention to any of the vehicles driving past when I turned to cross the road…  


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