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I was years old when this very experience took place.

I had this neighbour who who had a compound full of mango tree. He was a very greedy person. Children had to practically sneak into his compound to steal mangoes.

This man, Uncle chase-chase as we usually called him, preferred to watch his mangoes rot on the tree and fall to the floor.

He had earned the name because of his habit of chasing children out of his compound.

The name turned to a nick name when he shortened it to ‘Mr Chase’ or ‘Uncle chase.’

It was only when he saw his compound littered with so many rotten mangoes, that was when he called children to plug mangoes from the trees.

But this rare offer wasn’t for free. We were also asked to pack up all the rotten mangoes on the floor and dispose of them too.

That was something we did with all cheerfulness because, we didn’t want to miss the next mango plucking offer.

But this particular Mango season was different.

Uncle Chase hired a truck, and hired boys to sweep the rotten mangoes from the floor. This was a sign that no child would have an opportunity to be invited to pluck mangoes again.

I was stubborn. Very stubborn and also determined. I decided to visit uncle Chase house and scale his fence at night.

I couldn’t watch mangoes go to waste like that.

So this particular night, I picked up a big bucket, sneaked out of my parents house, and headed for uncle Chase fence.

I was only having a boxer on.
Like a professional thief, I scaled the fence and quickly climbed the biggest of the mango tree.

That tree had produced so many ripe mangoes. And that was also the sweetest mango tree in Uncle Chase’s compound.

I carefully hung the bucket on one of the branches and started plucking mangoes.

I was still plucking mangoes when one woman walked out of uncle Chase Apartment angrily.

Uncle chase emerged from the house in pursuit. He was begging and pleading with her to come back to the house.

Fear gripped me. I shuddered at the sight of him.

I stopped plucking mangoes and found a comfortable branch to sit on, patiently waiting for him to walk pass by.

But uncle Chase didn’t head for the gate.

He kept following this woman behind and was begging her.

I watched as he gradually approached the mango tree I was sitting on, and that was where the woman came to a halt.

She turned towards him, carrying her hands on her waist like a market woman.

“Chase live me alone na. Shey you say e don tire you. Shey you say you no wan chop my pepper soup again. Live me alone. Na so you go chop one round come sleep like dead body.”

I started wondering why Uncle chase will refuse to eat pepper soup at that time and hour. Who rejects pepper soup in a cold whether such as this?
That was my favourite. I could spend every day eating pepper soup and I wouldn’t even sleep.

This Uncle Chase was not hungry so I thought.

“Babe calm down. I only say make I rest small before I continue.”

“Na lie, you say my pepper soup don tire you. Allow me make I dey go.”

She turned to walk away when uncle chase pulled her back and started kissing her like a hungry lion.

My mother had always told me to close my eyes whenever I see two people kissing. I did that only when ever I watched Nigerian movies.

But this one was no Nigerian movie. This one was physical movie. This movie was live and direct, before my very eyes. I was like a spectator watching a live match in a stadium.

Uncle Chase pushed her to the mango tree, and the tree shook vigorously. More ripe mangoes came crashing down to the floor.

He pulled off his nicker and flung it in one direction.

The woman pulled off her bra and flung it in the air.

That was how her brazier ended up inside my bucket of mango.

When they say trouble will be sleeping, yanga would wake it up, this was the true definition.

I was just about removing the brazier from my innocent mangoes, when the woman flung her white pant in the air and it landed directly on my face.

I sneezed three times and fell down from the tree like an over ripe pawpaw.

“Jesussss!” The woman shouted on seeing me.

“Madam live Jesus out of this matter o. Just live Jesus.” I exclaimed loudly.
“First you throw brazier in my bucket, I did not talk. I did not complain. Now you throw pant that contains tear gas on my face. And you are shouting Jesus. What if I die. Leave Jesus alone for this matter o.”

“Praises what are you doing in my compound?”

“You seff what are you doing naked under the mango tree. Out of all the mango tree in your compound na this one you come and stand under.”

“I will report you to your mother, first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Me too I will report you to our children association first thing tomorrow morning.”

I hadn’t even finished talking when Okonkwo my best friend, and a battalion of other children, landed from one of the nearby tree with their own buckets of mangoes.

“Praises no bother yourself. We dey here already. We have seen the pepper soup drama already.” Okonkwo shouted boldly.

That night, I climbed up the mango tree, carried my bucket of mango and walked out through the gate like a boss.

Thank God for my life o.

My name is Praises aka foster and I am the best at what I do.