AbdulMalik Akinyemi's Journal (Book, Books, Book review, Book reviews, Book Review PDF, Review PDF)

Untold Tales: The Forgotten Language of Heaven


Before I become like you and forget the language of heaven, I had better clear your doubts.
The first time I became wary of earth was the day I was born. I could remember I was catching fun in my cozy womb apartment when a strange force started pushing me out. It was the land-grabbers we were warned about in heaven and I wasn’t prepared for battle; so I yelled, “Even if you will take my apartment, there’s no way I’m going out through that tiny hole!” But the doctors refused to listen, and my eyes almost popped when they dragged me out. And I was indignant and I cried, “How crueler can you earthlings get? Why would you drag a poor man out naked, have you no shame at all?” But the smug doctors paid no attention, and I cried harder and I CURSED. If only they knew the content of my curse, they would have quitted their jobs on the spot.

But then again, earth is not too bad, only that my tongue is different from theirs. If there is any chance this will ever work, we have to give mutual understanding a shot.

The seventh day after I was born, I lay gently, wrapped in my shawl, gazing with astonished dismay on the new world. I warned the cleric severely as he called out my names, for I’d rather be called Chizzy and not Shina. And why won’t he stop praying that I become a doctor or a lawyer when music is all I have in mind to write? My mother must have believed so much in him, for she isn’t helping my career at all. She would scream and hit my hand each time I break a new plate, as if I’ve done something wrong. “Forget Wizkid or Davido,” I’d cry non-stop, “the sound of crashing plates is the real deal.”

When I finally considered a change of career, mom didn’t even appreciate at all. Why won’t she understand that, for the future of the national basketball team, I have to practice hard and consistently with her android phone?

The first time I caught dad drinking from my nunu (milk) factory, I thought he’d lost his way. But now that he visits every time he thinks I’m asleep, I’m rest assured he is a thief. I have accused him several times, but he seemed not to understand my terms. So, I decided to poo on him the next time he tried that rubbish with me.

But dad won’t just let me eat in peace, so, I thought of an alternative. I discovered that the rice and the beans and everything earthlings eat isn’t bad, but they taste better on the floor than on the plate. And sand, as I have thoroughly researched, makes my diet organic.

Cynthia hit me the other day and I decided to cry my heart out to Wale. But Wale called my mom instead and told her I was hungry. He, obviously, didn’t understand any of my gibbers, for he too has forgotten the language of heaven like everyone else.

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