LUNAtic

Moonlight and mental states

Tonight is a full moon.

3rd August,1968. Tonight. A night with a full moon has always left me fascinated but not anymore. Quite the opposite, I dread it and it's due to many factors.

The full moon have always been the best night for my mom's folklores which I very much enjoyed. She'd make freshly made hot popcorn with the most soot covered pot we had and the whole house will be filled with smoke however I still enjoyed the half burnt popcorn.

Burnt popcorn is better than none. Her stories were highly captivating such that it left me with an unprecedented high that still lingered even after five days. Sometimes I wonder why she never utilized that skill.

As I grew older, I tried however, to tell the same stories but never with the same dramatic effect or the verve that would bring the appropriate imaginary characters in one's mind.

My attempt failed to make my listeners laugh and so I was told never to try again- the kwashiorkor stories I was good at telling.

It was a daunting task for me and so I respected the way she described ijapa's broken back, how delicious yanibo's porridge was that made her husband steal it instead of just simply asking, why the lizards nodded unnecessarily that you begin to wonder if they ever have neck pain and why the chimpanzee snatched the gift of human features from the one who deserves it most. The dog-man's best friend.

On the flip side, most of my mother's actions scared rather than surprised me. One morning, she had decided to travel to her home town to visit her father and I was elated at the thought of eating lots of dodo ikire because it was my favorite snack. He always had it in abundance.

The next morning by 3am, I woke up on my mom's back beside a neat coal tarred express road with barely no cars in sight and I was in that position till we got to the park where the buses were to take us back home. A five hour walk.

From that day on, I assumed but never concluded. I just couldn't bring myself to conclude.

Full moons now drains me and leaves me feeling like I have a debilitating illness. It has made me question why the visits to Aro in Abeokuta, yaba left in Lagos and the very expensive drugs have been in vain.

I adjust the chair and stare at my bed with longing to sleep but I just can't for the fear of waking up in another realm different from the present one I'm in.

One of my philosophy lecturer once taught about full moons. That it's often associated and characterized with an odd or insane behavior. I was among those who had replied in mockery "sure and pigs can fly" I had said.

And why, because I believed it was one of the many superstition that was being disseminated.

I mean it had to be but these days I'm beginning to doubt that. I decided that it was already getting too much when Mr Ajewole quoted a character from Williams Shakespeare's Othello.

“It is the very error of the moon. She comes more near the earth than she was not and makes men mad”

Dogmatic men in philosophy are the kind of men that will make you doubt your faith while explaining every single detail of how everything has come to be so that your own logical explanation is errant nonsense and it makes you feel stupid saying them.

He further said that Luna comes from the word"lunatic" and that shook my belief entirely.

I jerk, I thought I heard a sound. It's probably the"you know what". I've never brought myself to come to terms with it yet and it feels more comfortable not calling it what it is.

However, I'm a fighter and a strong willed man but there are days when I just sit in the most awkward and unthinkable places. It could be the wet bathroom or the engine oil stained floor of the generator house or the dried and smelly poultry house once filled with chicken poop. It's like I pressed paused on reality because everything was coming at me so fast.

It has been ten years since I retired and I believed that what I've worked hard for needs to be enjoyed. I was ectastic but I never knew I'd be opening the door to premium suffering from the "you know what".

I'm still seated in the same position in my study as I do every full moon awaiting the expected.

"Adewale Olorunsogo ooo!"

My wife screams at the top of her voice at 2am in the midnight. She comes into the room with a turning stick and my struggle begins.