Finding the real me (i)

Lagos Mainland, 5:25am.
It was the rooster behind my window that announced the morning. It woke me up while I was almost collecting my share of a deal from a friend. Had it been the rooster alone it would have been better, but it came alongside my disciplinarian mum’s heavy knock that almost rented my door apart. She yelled angrily at the top of her voice and on the other end of the door.
Won’t you get up Tony? It is 8am already and you’re still there stretching and yawning on the bed. She continued. I guess you’re tempting me to go back to what I have stopped doing? Mum has warned me she will always wake me up with chilled water each time I get up late.

I told her I’ve got my life to live but she wouldn’t understand.
I don’t even know why she is always like this. I hummed seated at angle ninety of my bed with a pillow on my chest. Coming to wake one up 5:30am every day, who does that? Can’t I enjoy my sleep at least? I don’t know why she wants me to wake up the exact time when even nature itself is still snoring. I don’t just understand mom again.
Can’t we pray other time of the day?


So angry and with all reluctance I got up, stared into the brightness of another new dawn hoping it will favor me with some good things I’ve never had before. I also nurtured the thought of laying my hands on that crazy rooster that cracked the dawn without my permission. 

To be continued on (ii)

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