By on September 7, 2015

I am one of the luckiest people I know. I live in a neighbourhood where (almost) everyone minds their own business. Don’t get me wrong; I am all for cooperation, communality, exchanging pleasantries and knowing names of neighbours but I’d rather enjoy my peace and quiet and let my neighbours do the same. Unless a neighbour expressly makes it clear that they would like to have a conversation, I will assume they are just like me – not too bothered about other people’s goings-on.

In the not-so-distant past, the African society was generally the kind of society where children belonged to everyone and thus every grown-up could easily spank a random badly behaved child without having to worry about retaliation from the child’s actual parents in form of law suits. Today however, one will receive better treatment if they screamed ‘I HAVE A BOMB’ during an overseas speech by Barack Obama than if they attempted to punish another person’s child. The society today has become more individual-based and there is little in the way of communality.

And this is not entirely the worst thing. It is part of the natural progression of man, and society as a whole.

True, children grew up better in the past when everyone chipped in with life lessons through shared ass whoopings but that was at a time when children actually went out to play. That was at a time when children didn’t stay indoors playing video games, watching TV and Googling ‘How to sue my parents’.

A lot has changed and today people are more focused on their individual problems as opposed to the community’s problems.

Following suit with this progression of the society today, I too have developed a sense of individualism. When I get home from work, it is on rare occasions that I stop by the neighbours’ to volunteer a greeting or exchange pleasantries. If I get home and there is a strangely attractive scent of  pork ribs marinated in apple juice coming from their kitchen, I might stop by to share a few hi’s and hello’s. Other than that, I mosly mind my own business.


I am the Red guy in my neighbourhood.

On one or two occasions, I have come back home to find one of my neighbours standing outside her door, afraid to get into her own house. On asking what the problem might be, it becomes apparent that a rat is hiding in her house and some help has to be solicited before she can step back into her house. Quite naturally, as the only male around at the time, I wear my superman outfit and save the day by bringing my sidekick Hendrix (my cat) to do the dirty work of figuring out where the rat is and subsequently sending it to meet its creator. It is only on such occasions that my neighbour and I will engage in a brief chit chat, probably talk about how big Hendrix has grown or talk about how busy we both are. She will then offer to have me over for a meal, which offer I will first turn down before giving in to her insistence. I will then take Hendrix back to our humble abode, lock up and dash for the free meal. Even then, I try not to stay long lest the neighbour’s boyfriend swings by and imagines that I am encroaching on his wetland. Worse still, the neighbour might turn on her TV and force me to watch an over acted soap opera with disorganized sound and distorted pictures as we enjoy the delicious free meal.

I try to avoid all this by staying within my lane.

HendrixIt’s usually just this guy and I, minding our own business

Recently, I encountered an interesting escapade with one of my female neighbours. Just like me, she is a solo kind of person except that a guy who I assume is her boyfriend occasionally comes around during the weekends. I have never really talked to the fella but I assume he is her boyfriend because I once overheard them argue about missed periods and things like that. No brother, father, uncle or son can venture into such conversation unless he is the most twisted man on earth.

Anyway, madam neighbour locked herself out of her house and asked me to come over and help her find a way back in. This time though, the circumstances were strange. First of all, she was scantily dressed (If having a little towel around one’s upper body can even be referred to as being dressed) and secondly she seemed quite distraught. From the narration of her ordeal, I gathered that she had dashed out to take out some rubbish but accidently let the door slide and lock itself while she had stepped out. The idea (according to her) was to quickly dash to the rubbish bin, dump whatever she was dumping and dash back into the house before anyone saw her. And she was right; no one was going to see her with the little towel on. Everyone had safely bolted their doors and was minding their own business. Most lights had been turned out and most of the neighbours were dead asleep or doing silent things in the dark. Yours truly was wide awake though; struggling to get past Chapter Five of a Forty Seven Chapter China Mieville Book. And so madam neighbour figured I was her best shot at getting back into the house.

It was one of those cold nights when the clouds were thinking of doing something wildly wet. A few drops had even given signs that a downpour was on the way. A storm was brewing – but madam neighbour was not bothered about the weather situation. And at the moment, neither was I.

Quite naturally, she was more bothered about how she would get back into her house without having to break or ruin anything since it was late in the night. She wasn’t bothered by the weather, or even her rather wobbly behind that kept swinging back and forth as she paced about, attempting to show me how she usually locks her door. And neither was she bothered that the little towel on her midsection had accidentally left certain parts of her breast area uncovered. It was a rather cold night and I momentarily considered stepping back into my own house to grab a jumper or something.

But that was not going to happen. There was no time for that. Madam neighbour was very distraught and narrated her ordeal with near tears in her eyes. I wasn’t about to step away from the sad woman, even for a moment.

It was sad. Very sad.

Of course the fact that she was barely dressed did not matter at the moment because the primary objective was to get the door opened but my focus kept wavering. Whose wouldn’t? First I was worried about the impending storm, then I was worried about the little towel, and then I was worried about the door, then the little towel, then the weather again and then the little towel once again.

Lucky for me, while all this was happening I was actually trying to find a solution to the problem. As it turned out, her bedroom window was open and through it, I was able to see the keys and hook them out with a little make-shift device I quickly made. Not too much rocket science was involved actually but from the manner in which she thanked me, it was clear I was a hero.

I have the guts to write this blog post several weeks after the actual escapade because just two weeks back, madam neighbour moved. She now lives somewhere in Najjera and I have been invited to visit. Hopefully when I visit she will have more than the little towel on.

Neighbours – gotta luv ’em!

MassageWouldn’t it be nice to have a neighbour who is a good Masseuse?

Photo Credit –

“Neighbours, I’m on the fence about them.” ― Jarod Kintz, This Book Has No Title

a.k.a Beewol
The Talkative Rocker
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  1. Lionel

    September 7, 2015 at 1:24 pm

    I saw what you just did right there….

    • beewol

      September 7, 2015 at 1:26 pm

      I know nothing! *insert monkey face*

  2. tinah

    September 7, 2015 at 6:54 pm

    I live in a yard of 8 families so i can relate to the each minding their own. Good read. Keep writing.

    • beewol

      September 9, 2015 at 6:41 am

      Yes ma’am. I shall keep writing … for you.

  3. maggie

    September 8, 2015 at 8:47 am

    Another great read, with plenty of Beewol’s signature “laughter lines” (that’s what I call them) ensuring that I thoroughly enjoyed this one. Great job Beewol.

    • beewol

      September 9, 2015 at 6:41 am

      Thank you for reading Maggie … and thank you for the endorsement.

  4. Don Jajja

    September 8, 2015 at 7:57 pm

    Very private enclosure it is. keep the pen-point rolling

    • beewol

      September 9, 2015 at 6:40 am

      Yessir. Will keep it rolling.

  5. Luyombya Resty

    September 9, 2015 at 6:30 am

    Another wonderful piece from the talkative rocker. I am slowly falling in love with you.

    • beewol

      September 9, 2015 at 6:39 am

      Thank you madam Resty. The feeling is mutual

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