Tragedies Of Monrovia

Witty Gladiator

It’s Wednesday morning
You awake to the sound of the trucks passing by your window,
The smell of dust mixed in odour, and the terrible singing of your next door neighbor who believes she’s going to audition on America’s Got Talent and be a star.

You look at the time; it’s just 7:15 am.
You think to yourself “I’ve got enough time to read my Bible, get ready for work, and eat breakfast.”
You take your Bible; you read 1st John 1:8 and realize that God’s promised He’s going to forgive your sins if you confess to him wholeheartedly.
You think to yourself, “I can go ahead ‘enjoying’ myself more.”

You get outside; you realize there’s no hot water to bathe and it’s already 7:35.
You decide that bathing with cold water this morning won’t kill you, so you jump in the bathroom.
You appreciate how the cold water brings to life your spirit to sing.
You begin singing. You sing loudly. You sing annoyingly. But you suck at singing.
You disturb your neighbors with your average voice and go off pitch every once in a while.
You get out of the bathroom. It’s 8 am already.
So you decide to skip breakfast and eat “cold bowl” at Ma Kebeh’s spot right near your
Office on Ashmun street.

You call your boss to tell him you’ll be late today as you get stuck in traffic at Vamoma on 26th street.
As you pass, you enjoy the way the breeze beats your face this morning as your lower your windshield to cuss that bike boy who just missed your car’s bumper.
You cussed him. You cussed him good. But you know he wouldn’t just let it stay that way so he cussed you back too, and you laugh and say to yourself, “These Monrovia bike boys will never change.”

You get to the office at 8:45 and your boss hasn’t even left his house.
He’s a typical example of a Liberian boss.
He comes in at 12. Signs into the log book with 8:05 and you think to yourself, “If only I could rip his head off.”
He leaves at 12:30. Goes to eat lunch at Royal Hotel with his “side-squeeze.”
He gets paid a week before you, and for doing nothing, but there’s nothing you can do about it so you just leave him be and focus on your work.

You go to eat at Ma Kebeh’s.
The food isn’t even ready yet. So you sit. You sit long. You wish you could just rip her head off, and make her stop the plenty talking and just focus on preparing the cassava leaves torbogee she has on the fire.
The food is ready. So you eat. You eat well. You even ask for “take away” and you savor the Liberianness in Ma Kebeh’s cooking so you compliment her. You would even give her a hug if you were thinking straight. But you’re not. So you go back to your office.

You wait till evening and leave at 5:15.
You wish you could go have fun but it’s a Wednesday so you ride straight home.
You get there, shower, get in your pajamas, and you realize you had a great day!
You decide to keep the “take away” from Ma. Kebeh for “cold rice” the next morning so you put it in your fridge.
You lie on your bed, close your eyes, and then journey off to Disneyland in your sleep, and dream you’re in a Broadway Musical.