Lemme tell you the tales of my uncle. Jero.
Ngosi!!! He’ll call my name with his eyes wide open like it was going to fall off very soon. My siiiir!!! lingers on till I was in his presence.
If uncle Jero said sit…i sat
Clean…he didn’t even have to utter a word.
I was my uncle Jero’s puppet
My mum didn’t help matters with
Her good bye phrase each day..”you had better respect jero”? and the fact that she was barely home.
My dad worked in another state and came home occasionally.
No siblings because of my mum’s medical condition.
Uncle Jero was basically family.
Oh!!! did I mention that uncle Jero was the help -or in our Nigerian parlance -house boy.
Uncle Jero always told tales of how his dad fought in the civil war and how he grew up hunting.
“I kill for a living”, he’d say. Telling that to a 9 year old kid, you’d wonder why I was his puppet.
Once “madam” was out of the house uncle Jero was the house king. He made me do all his chores and when I tried to cry..he reminded me of his special skills -killing for a living.
One fateful night there was a robbery incident at our house. I was very terrified but not as much as uncle Jero. He wept uncontrollably and even wet his body. I wondered why he was be scared when, after all he killed for a living.
I hadn’t given much thoughts to it when I said, “Uncle Jero, do something…you kill for a living don’t you?!!!. Everyone starred at me and well…the rest is history.
Sadly, whatever happened to uncle Jero that night still remains a mystery.
All I know is, he quit after that incident.
That was the end of my uncle Jero.