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That evening I was trying my best not to lose focus on what I was doing. Already the noise from my neighbor's children kept distracting me, shifting my focus from the list of suitable applications I was sifting from LinkedIn.
I had already scolded them many times to take their play elsewhere. But as we all know kids will always be kids. Suddenly I heard one of them shout
"Mummy is coming back" the eldest of them all announced. "Quick, run inside unless you want to get punished", and with that, they all ran inside, pretending to be good kids.
I heaved a big sigh, happy to be relieved by their noise and distractions. But just when I thought all was over
Bang, bang, crash!
Came a loud noise from the neighbouring compound. I groaned, rolled my hands into a fist and punched the air.
"Not today, please!" I yelled in rage.
Bang, bang, crash, crash!
The noise came again accompanied by loud shouts of joy. Abandoning my work, I quickly stood up, threw a shirt on and walked out of my house to the neighbouring compound where I was sure the noise was coming from. For weeks now, there have been band rehearsals from a band group, whose leader, Martin, happened to be my neighbour and a friend.
"Hey!" Martin happily called to me as he saw me approaching.
"No, hey, me guy (Don't hey me)", I threw my words hard at him. "Guy, pity your neighbours, na. What's all this? For weeks, it's been noise, and I'm trying to do some work," I continued, not hiding my anger.
"Sorry bro. We'll try to keep it low" he apologized. Apparently, he had sensed how angry I was from my look.
"Please do. It's not like you guys play the best music. With your off-key keyboardist and wrong-timing drummer," I sucked my teeth. I just couldn't hide how I felt inside. It had been a rough day, and somehow, Martin's band were the recipient of my rage.
"Guy, I've already agreed to keep it low. Why being rude na?"
Realising that my words were bad and that they didn't really deserve what I said, I tried being soft: "No reason, am my guy (Don't be angry, my guy)" I apologized.
"It's fine. It's usually those that don't know how to play any instrument that criticizes the most," he replied. There was pain in his voice.
I laughed, "Stand up" I turned to the drummer guy who was seated on the drums.
"For what?" He asked.
"Just stand, please", I said again, being gentle this time.
The drummer stared at Martin who nodded to him to oblige. Then I sat down and asked, "High-life music, right? That's what you guys were playing" I asked Martin.
He nodded.
To the band, "Let's play" I said.
Reluctantly, they played the last time I had heard them play before I stormed their house. And like a pro, I played the drums perfectly to their astonishment. With every stroke, I smiled at the drums. I could feel my anger and sluggishness being replaced with invigorating freshness. Just like I was flogging all my anger away on the drums.
"How did you know how to play so well" they asked as the music ended.
I laughed, while my mind flashed back to secondary school days where I had learnt how to play the drums and keyboard
"I played drums a long time ago until I had an issue with my legs. The doctor advised I stop''
"So sorry," Martin said.
"It's fine", I replied, handing the sticks back to the drummer. "Please keep it low, guys", I pleaded again before walking out of the compound.
Just at the gate, I heard Martin call out to me 'Guy!"
I turned.
"Will you join us tomorrow," he said.
"Maybe" I replied with a smile before walking out the gate.