he had painted the town black, blue and red. a young boy, he had not climb so far on the age ladder. He would be 16 this November, and a day will not break that is news wont be spread abroad, everyone in the street knows him. He gets drunk regularly. He smokes anything he sees, he had gone pass the level of cigarette, Young Matthew cant be redeemed, any one who tries redeeming him will definite fall victim. and if it is a she, she wont skip this define protocol, he had screwed but young and old and in an attempt to keep a sex library he has a list of every gal he had something to do with, pinned to a small board in his room. 


Now here comes the unique question, doesn't he have a father nor a mother, a sister, nor a guardian, he actually doesn't, but that should be enough reason for him to sit down and think about life. he had actually drank so much that his head is getting to form the shape of a bottle.


He staggered home, around 1:23 am that morning, he banged on the gate and he attempted walking right through the close gate when no one was going to let him in. "ogar, ahh, welcome ooo" the gate man greeted as he finally opened up the gate, no one else will attempt pushing off their gate at that time of the night. "Have you washed the car" he asked staggering. 


The gateman looked at him, that was a weird question, there was actually no car in the compound again, the same Matthew had them sold so he could sleep comfortably inside empty beer bottle and buy the strongest cond*ms on earth. "yes sir" the gate man answered to avoid trouble. Matthew walked few meters away, he turned around again then he said this time with a beam, "hope you also starched the car" he went off his feet straight away, and he was laying face flat before he could receive an answer to his question. 


He tried waking up the next day and the pain he felt all over his joint made it impossible for him to open up his eyes, finally it began to relief him and forcefully, his eyes were opened. he could smell alcohol all over his body, -did i finish one crate- he thought, he stood off the bed and his shirt had already been pulled off.


 A message entered his phone, he sighed knowing not what it was, he walked over to his old and abandoned study table, and he picked up his phone, he opened it up and he began to read, it was a message "Matthew, waec form will be closing soon. it has been 3 years you dropped out, pls let me help you collect a form so you can go for tutorials and write this exam, pls reply me" he grunted ignoring the message, he closed up the message and he dropped his phone. 

Matthew was bitter, he walked out of his room and he made ways to his dad's bedroom. 


He opened up the door, and he looked around for anything he could sell, to make few cash. He had sworn on pulling down his dad's legacy as they had tamed his career(his writing dreams), he had always wanted to write all his life, but his dad never allowed him. His dad was focused about he reading his school books and coming out with higher grades, his mum was worst we never wanted to see him write. Off course, he should never attempt writing when he had not properly fixed his home work. 


They died four years ago, in a fatal car accident and he as the only son was granted access into his parent's assets, but that never happened for long. His uncles began to restrain his access when he began to waste resources. If his dad had written a will before he passed on, this would not have happened. 


he stared angrily at the walls and his breath went faster, all he had in his head was what could be destroyed. Then he sighted a small locker very close the cupboard, he had never access it his whole life. He tried pulling it open then he noticed it had been locked. He out of the room then he returned few minutes later with a bunch of key. 

The locker opened up at the first turn the key had in it he pulled it open by holding on to a dwarf handle attached to it.


He stared in confusion, this wasn't what he expected, it looked familiar, it was a big book. He pulled it out, then he began to flip open. Just at the first page, something dawned on him. that was the exact book his dad seized from him and that had thrown him on this current part. That actually was the last book his dad was chanced to seize, he flipped through as quick as possible and he got stocked on the last page, right after he had concluded the story his dad's handwriting was all he saw.


"Wao this is beautiful, i am proud of you son" water ran down his cheek as he started in disbelieve.

"i love this story of yours so much, even above all of you have written, i know you will be happy when you see this, i only want you to study hard in school and have good grades, i will definitely enrol you into an art school. Let me shock you, i have paid a huge sum of money to Del publishing house to publish all the books you have written, flip this page over and you will be surprised" he flipped over that page, then tears was already draining the book, he got shocked when he saw a draft "DEL PUBLISHING HOUSE RECEIVED 800,000 NAIRA FROM MR JAMES OWOSENI TO PUBLISH 15 OF MATTHEW OWOSENI'S BOOKS, THIS NOTE IS RELEVANT AS LONG AS DEL PUBLISHING HOUSE STILL EXIST" below the note was a stamp and signature of two parties. 


Now he was on his kneels weeping bitterly.

He turned back a leaf to continue with his dad's note. 

"i know you have a bright future Matthew, and i promise to stand by you if you promise to be serious in school" he threw down the book, he held his head tight and it looked like he would pull it down. he stood up and he searched the locker then he recovered more of his books. 


********* 29 years later*********

A dark tall man in his late 40's stepped out of the big kelin's hall where the Citek movie award had just taken place, tones of reporters ran after him as he walked amidst his entourage. 

"Good, morning mr Matthew" one of the reporters finally got through, he signaled to his entourages to allow the reporters reach him, his entourage covered him up that the reporters could only reach him with their mics "mr Matthew we learn you won 5 awards today" "yes" he replied. "How come you wrote such a beautiful script, now we learnt you have written script for over 36 Nigerian movies and non of them had miss AMAA nomination" "it is God" he replied. "sir how come, you focused this long and you achieved all this in the space of 8 years and we see you, still doing more in many years time" another reporter pulled out the long question. " I actually had this potentials from birth, but i think i was strengthen then by the promises of today and i am looking forward to the promises the future holds and that is my strength today."

AUTHOR: Okhuoya temitope ttop