The Chronicles of Jedi Oloyin (A Must Read)

Curiosity they said, killed the cat. What would be said of mine? Curiosity nearly killed the dude? Well it depends on how you see it sha, but I have made up my mind to flee from all appearances of Agbo-Jedi. Once beaten; mine no be twice shy – na forever shy. How I no go shy? Make I kill myself?

I was sitting jeje on my own o, tousling with Ela on FIFA 13 when I overheard my paddies gisting about the potency of Jedi-oloyin and how it had helped fix their ailing lower backs. The intensity of their discussion aroused my curiosity. Before I knew it, my fate was sealed. I knew I had to take it.

I had been an avid taker of Agbo-Jedi before that moment but I had always limited myself to drinking the gin-soaked ones. Reason; the water-soaked ones had first-class degree in bitterness.

While growing up, I had always revolted when it came to drinking agbo for my health. I would rather the sickness kill me than for me to drink that bitter-tasting concoction. So you would understand why I stuck with the gin-soaked Agbo-jedi now that I’m grown.

For the ‘butties’ reading this, agbo-jedi is a gin or water soaked herbal drinks used to locally treat Pile or ‘Jedi’ as it is locally called. Jedi is caused not only by sugary drinks but all the midin-midin you guys chop at KFC, Chicken Republic and the likes. I’m quite sure that virtually half of Nigerian average age males are being worried by ‘Jedi’. Ask Wiz-Kid abi na Wizzie be hin name; at least he used to drink Jedi at Iya-nla in those days.

The fact that I am an Ikale boy also made it easier for me to drink gin-soaked agbo-jedi. We are natural ogogoro drinkersJ. But to be honest with you sha, it is just an excuse for taking alcohol. Abi!.

Back to my story, I don too like to dey digress, make una no vex abeg.

Like I earlier wrote, I had limited myself only to gin-concocted Agbo-jedi, so you would understand why my curiosity was aroused when I heard about Jedi oloyin; the herbal mixture prepared with pure Honey. One thing you expect is that it would be ‘sweet’, no be so?

Jedi oloyin, as I heard that morning, was very potent; much more effective than all other types of Agbo-jedi, so I decided to go for it. I got directions to the nearest one at Iso-Pako (Timber-shed) at Sango just a little away from the railway tracks and decided to try it out with two other friends.

When we got there we were lucky. We met the seller pouring freshly made quantities into Ragolis plastic bottles for sale, so we made up our minds to purchase a whole bottle and take home with us rather than sit at her shed to drink a couple of spoonful. We paid for a whole bottle and was about to leave when she advised us to get home before using it and to ensure that we did not take more HALF OF A TEASPOON per person.

We smiled and responded that we were avid drinkers of agbo-Jedi and that taking more than half a teaspoon will not hurt us. She insisted and begged us not to try such at all. We agreed with her so that she would let us be. We eventually walked off winking at one another, knowing fully well that we would definitely go against her advice.

The moment we got into the car, Femi uncorked the bottle and took a swig. It tasted good so he took another swig. He passed the bottle to me. I wanted to behave sane, so I used the bottle’s cork as gauge to take two ‘cork-fulls’. Ayo, ever the cool dude, decided against taking it until we got home.

My foolishness kicked in as I bought a bottle of Cocacola and started to drink. Femi did the same. A few minutes later, when we were around Mokola flyover, I began to feel uncomfortable. My tummy made so much noise that I wanted to fart. Little did I know that ‘bros’ don start work.

“Omo e be like say ds thing don start to dey work o! O ti bere ise kiakia” I quipped while readjusting my buttocks to tilt a side up and release some foul odor into the air conditioned car. I wanted to punish the guys a little before we got home.

Don’t crank up your nose o!

We never shied away from farting when others were around. We almost always competed for who could fart the most. So farting was never a big deal. Still uncomfortable I belched and farted!

I expected a loud noise, alas! I was mistaken.

I felt as if something snaking out of my something slowly. Something wet; something…. Indescribable! The wetness spread a little, soaking my boxer shorts!

OMG! I realized I had pooped on my body.

‘Ki leleyi?!’ I screamed silently.

My boxer shorts was partly soaked with you know what! I struggled to couple myself. I never knew Femi was also in trouble until he suddenly blurted out, encouraging AY to drive faster:

“Bobo yii, wa moto yi kia now! O ye ka ti de’le o! O ti slow ju jare”

AY could only laugh. He made continual jest of the two of us, giving us the ‘I told you so’ lecture. Me ke? I did not even listen to him. I was concentrated on how to avoid the embarrassment of the sacrilege I had perform right on the back seat.

If any of them knew I had done the unthinkable my ears would never hear the last of it. They would torment me till I would almost kill myself. I sat like a quiet cat, gently waiting, hoping and praying that there would be no traffic at Aleshinloye junction. Unfortunately my prayers were not to be answered. The traffic was massive!

Even Femi shouted “Yeeeee mogbe o! Kileleyi na?!”

We got to Iyaganku area when I could take it no more. As soon as the traffic warden stopped us I alighted and ran inside the police station like a man pursued by demons. Even the Policemen by the station’s entrance took off in opposite directions. I ran to the counter and begged them to allow me use their toilet.

The Policeman must have seen and pitied my condition, else he would have turn his back.

Ol’ boy, no be small thing o! I no even mind how the place be.

I spent more than an hour in the toilet, with nothing but watery stuff coming out of the ‘you know where’. My boxers nko? I left d tin inside the toilet ni o!

I got to know later that while I ran into the Police station Femi took off after me. Since I was able to get into the toilet before him he had to find another option as his condition did not warrant him waiting. He ran out of the station, crossed the road and dashed behind the shops opposite the Police station. He threw caution into the winds as he pulled his trousers and let out a torrent of poop, not minding if anyone saw him.

On our way home neither of the two of us spoke. We were too drained. As for me it felt as if any talk would vibrate my tummy and set it off again. AY laughed till tears came. Me, I no even get hin time. I could not open my mouth, not to talk of getting angry and responding to his taunts. I only continued to pray in my mind that we would get home in time for me to release the new storm that was already gathering again in my tummy.

Femi nko? Forget that boy! See big boy dey whimper like pikin. Poopoo reduced him to a nonentity!

Getting home was worse. I alighted before AY could open the gate. I just could not wait! If I tried to walk fast I would something rushing in my tummy towards my anus. I would pause and wait for it to subside before continuing to walk. Climbing the stairs nko? Chineke meh!! Climbing the stairs never took more than ten seconds – ever! Ol’ boy it took me more than five minutes o! I would walk and if I feel it, pause until it subsided before walking again.

I no even get mouth greet people wey dey greet me for compound.

Na God carry me reach toilet o! Walahi no be me waka myself. It took all my willpower to pull down my trousers, thank God day say boxer shorts no dey again, and sit on the toilet seat like a gentleman. The second batch was worse! More than two hours after, I still in the toilet, sweating, groaning and wishing I had listened to that woman. I also heard Femi’s groans from the second toilet.

“Aye mi o! Aah! Ta lo ran mi nise oooo! Laye mi, mi o tun mu kini yii mo o!”

As funny as it was I could not laugh, I was only concentrated on how I would ‘never-ever’ drink Agbo-jedi, not just jedi-oloyin o, but all agbo-jedi again in my life.

As for AY, our experiences taught him a great lesson. He never even touched the bottle, talk-less of taking it. The friends who told us about it nko? See let’s leave that part, I am sure they would never forget what we did to them.

But a lot of my other friends fell victim and their stories were way worse. One particularly almost fell off an okada after he took the Agbo-jedi and had to rush home before he died of poopoo. He farted on the Okada and flies swarmed after him. That’s the story for another day sha…

I hope soon I will have the time to tell you each of their stories soon. Have fun guys.