Tomorrow Died Yesterday by CHIMEKA GARRICKS

Author:CHIMEKA GARRICKS [GARRICKS, CHIMEKA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PAPERWORTH BOOKS
Published: 2011-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

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A roomful of complete strangers were chanting, ‘Tubo! Tubo! Tubo!’ Tubo was just about to start singing his fifth straight song. He had stunned everyone in the karaoke restaurant when he started with Robbie William’s ‘Feel’. While singing Culture Club’s ‘Karma Chameleon’, he strutted round the tables like he owned the place. His rendition of the Eagles’ ‘Hotel California’ made several strangers offer to buy him drinks. By the time he finished Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s get it on’ complete with suggestive hip moves, everyone in the crowd knew his name. They were now chanting his name because they had heard the opening strains of Lionel Richie’s ‘All Night Long’. The karaoke restaurant was a place frequented by expatriates. Naturally, most of their companions were skimpily clad, skinny, young black girls with bright blonde and auburn wigs. They roared and clapped when Tubo started singing. Eyes closed, Tubo smiled, and raised his half-filled beer glass high in salute. The microphone was in his other hand. He bounced slowly, warming to the music. By the time he got to the familiar chorus, we all joined in. The crowd loved him.

When he started the second verse, I leaned towards Kaniye and said, ‘He’s quite a showman.’

Kaniye smiled, ‘He’s drunk.’

I laughed and nodded. We had been at the restaurant for more than two hours and Tubo had been drinking steadily since we got there. ‘He has an amazing voice, though,’ I said for the fifth time that night. Oghogho nodded her agreement.

‘St. Joseph’s Choir, Asiama,’ Kaniye explained.

‘You didn’t join?’

Kaniye shook his head. ‘I went to the other church, the Anglican one, St. Cyprian’s.’

Tubo danced towards our table, grabbed Oghogho’s hand, pulled her to her feet and pushed the mike into her face. She laughed and sang along with him. Then, without breaking song, Tubo dragged her shrieking towards the floor where he had been performing. We chortled as we watched them go.

After a while I said, ‘There was no choir in St. Cyprian’s?’

‘There was one but I never joined. I think I have a terrible voice and besides, I stopped going to church when I moved to Port Harcourt from Asiama.’

I thought it over for a while. ‘About the same time your mother died?’ He affected a shrug. ‘So you blame God for her death?’ I said it quietly.

Kaniye chuckled. ‘Deola. Deola. You always think you can read me, don’t you?’

I snarled playfully and grinned. ‘Like a book!’ We turned and for a while watched Tubo and Oghogho doing their duet. Then, Kaniye turned to me,

‘I prayed for my mother every day, a year before she died. After all my fasting, begging and bribes, I just don’t know why He let her die.’ He shrugged.

I smiled again. We turned again to the sound of applause which drowned the last of Tubo’s words as he ended the song. Still holding Oghogho’s hand, he bowed low to the audience as though he had just performed live in concert. I slipped my hand in Kaniye’s hand and squeezed it.

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