Monsieur Woke: Kupe
Kupe
“Kupe.”
Kupe
“Kupe.”
Kupe
“Kupe.”
Kupe
“Kupe.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” I stared at Joseph, as he danced, singing the lyrics of the song blasting through the speakers.
0 to 100
I dey go 0 to 100
Chale let me tell you something
“CHALE LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING!” He screamed, as he did a quick turn around, then swirled his hips.
“Dude?”
To a hater
“Kupe, Kupe,” He screamed excitedly, looking at me with sacarsm on his face.
To an enemy
“Kupe, Kupe.”
“He’s finally gone mad. I thought I would be the first to break,” I sighed.
Lowkey, I watched him dance with envy. He was good! His leaned his body weight perfectly on each leg as he swayed left to right, then rhythmically, his shoulders flowed too. He smiled at me then dropped down low.
“Idiot,” I hissed. “What’s all this for?”
He carried of the beads of sweat on his forehead with a swipe from his thumb and flung it across the room.
“Dude!”
“There’s nothing there. You should know.”
I sighed again. He fell by side with his body dripping of sweat.
“Joseph, please,” I begged. “I know, but still just, please.”
He smiled and rubbed his sweaty hands on my face. His laugh followed which was excruciatingly annoying, returning when he had wiped his body clean.
“You seem very excited today,” I mentioned.
There it was again on his face: that “broad up to no good” smile.
Fuck, I thought.
“We are getting our dicks sucked tonight!” He screamed!
“Why do I even bother?”
“Look at me, look at me!” He gestured his figures from his eyes to mine. “Tonight is the perfect opportunity.
“What makes today any different?”
“Kupe!”
“Kupe?”
“Kupe!”
“Huh? Kupe?”
“ Film this on your camera camera. From London to Alabama Hey!” He screamed again, jumping off the bed to dance. “We are getting laid.”
“What is Kupe?”
He froze.
“Wow, Monsieur Woke?”
“Don’t call me that. Where is the correlation?”
“Anyways,” Joseph began. “There is a bunch of guys who danced to a Kupe song and blew up.” Joseph brought my laptop around, and searched for the video. “See?”
“Oh, they are good looking though.”
“Sorry? What the fuck man? Is that a boner?
“Dude, huh? What? No, I am straight.”
“Sure, sure you are.”
“So, what does this have to do with us- you- me getting laid?”
“I am glad you asked,” He replied, clearing his throat. “They are in Nigeria and they will be in Lagos tonight.”
He looked at me, waiting for my energy to match his. Seeing as that wasn’t going to happen he continued,
“So, like you said, as you said, you said. I didn’t say it, you did, but no homo tho: they are good looking, so they will be at escape and you know them thirsty ass women will love to have a piece of them niggas.”
“I see… and?”
“And… they’re just four guys. I mean, four against 200, 300, maybe? There’s not enough Kupe to go around.”
“And…”
His disappointment was clearly written.
“You will be the Alex Moran to Thad Castle.”
“Is that a blue mountain state reference?”
“Fucking hell! You will be getting the leftovers.”
“Dude,” I sighed. “Don’t call women leftovers.”
“Rejects?”
I shook my head.
“Unwanted?”
He shook again.
“Do you want to get your dick wet or nah?”
“I should call Femi,” I suggested. “And Brume too.”
“Call the niggas! The more the merrier. Get those bitches drunk and shit, and they won’t know what hit em! I have got some pills, if you… you know… want it… quick.”
“Dude, what is wrong with you? Why do you say these things?”
“The pills are yours anyways,” He defended himself. “Don’t judge me.”
“How on earth are they mine?”
“You refused to throw them away a while back,” He answered. “There was that little intent lingering within you then. I remember. I remember vividly. You are still scum, no matter how much you fight it. We men are animals, we were born animals!”
“ I disagree. Lade said, Men are men. Calling them animals rid them of the responsibilities of their actions, and I agree.”
“Aww you are quoting your lil bitch,” He teased. “Are you in love already? Damn, I miss the old you, the old us. We were a team!”
“Don’t every call her a bitch again,” I warned. “That’s just- Respect women, man. They are people, humans, like us!”
“Alright, I’m sorry. But, we, you know, tonight?”
“Maybe?”
“That’s my boy!”
“But no spiking anyone’s drink, that’s rape, Jo. Plus, consent, we are not forcing anyone to do ANYTHING!”
“Sure,” He replied and giggled. “Your phone is ringing by the way.”
I answered.
“Oh? Yeah, let him in,” I said, before dropping the receiver. “It’s X.”
Joseph said nothing and left. X walked in a few seconds after. He looked confused.
“Why are you sweating like a pig and why you dey listen to Kupe?” He asked. “Oh, wait.”
He burst out laughing!
“Not again!” I cried.