Moral Case for a Gift

Kamikun was having his first ever marijuana. He was in-between schools, and so it took only a few days to find kindred spirits within his street to share the experience with. He spent most of his time alone in an empty house after his parents hurried out of the house at dawn to beat the unforgiving Lagos morning traffic. Since they often returned from work late into the night, loneliness was his adopted middle name. Kamikun Loneliness Ademola!


It also didn’t matter that he was barely seventeen years old when he had his first smoke, after all some of his younger friends showed off impressive puffs while they shared a blunt. What mattered was that now, he could sit in the midst of young teenagers like himself to enjoy the bliss of a cigarette or marijuana without a care in the world.


He had read somewhere that girls loved the after taste of smoke after a French-kiss. Could it be the dissolving layer of smoke on the tongue that caused this or the exhaled remnants that curled back from the lungs during the act?


In his quiet moment, he often wondered how the lingering, acrid, and bitter sensation that smoking left in his mouth, could if anything, be attractive to any lady.


“But Google confirmed that this was true.” He argued with himself.


In his bid to conceal the after-taste, he chewed on ground nuts and barbequed meat with fervor before uttering a word to neighbors or friends of his parents.


He would have to find out.


Either way, that fact aroused him more often than his stomach grumbled for food. Nothing would please him more than to share the perfect kiss with his love interest. His first kiss, he reckoned, was only a few days away. He could feel it!


No one looked as gorgeous and beautiful as Jadesola when he first met her at the supermarket. He had gone to buy two loaves of bread one evening when he met her at the payment counter, struggling to remove wrinkled notes from her oversized jeans, yet wearing a smile that showed her excellent dentition. The jeans she wore could have belonged to her father or uncle or some fatard who sits all day.


Kamikun was so mesmerized, his feet refused orders from his marijuana-clouded brain. He stood gobsmack staring at her with so much intensity that Jadesola awkwardly returned his rude stare with a bright smile seem to mean, “What’s with the look?”


When he found his sense, his first set of words to her was; “Hi my name is Kami and I would love to be your friend.”


The rest they say is history. Love was born that afternoon.


Two weeks later, Jadesola would sneak out of the house in the evenings so they could talk and hold hands for just about fifteen minutes before her eight-year-old brother, Prince, would come looking for her outside, around the corner of the house gate. Prince was the house gossip and her self-appointed watch dog.


That anticipated first kiss was closer than weeks earlier. They only needed to find the right place and the right time.


She asked him to buy her a new phone the last time they hugged. That was the first thing she would ever ask from him. This was now a matter of the heart. He would have to figure out how to get some money first.


His parents barely left enough pocket money on a weekly basis. After he was done buying the joint or cigarette each day, there was barely enough cash to buy anything else. It was an endless cycle of smoking, eating junk and then waiting to get the next allowance.


Annoying, yet frustrating. Kamikun was convinced he needed to find a way to either fleece more money from his “stingy” parents or find cash some other way.


He didn’t like the way his heart beats whenever he thought about it. Kamikun Loneliness Ademola was going to be a man, the man he always wanted to be. The missing puzzle piece was about to be filled. Jadesola held the keys to his heart and it made him feel some type of way words couldn’t describe.


Paul had only one friend in the neighborhood. His name was Kamikun, but he liked to be called Kami. Paul thought he was just a vain teenager who cared so much for his looks than his future. Not that the sixteen-year-old Paul cared for his future that much too. He was fine with living each day as it came.


But his vain friend Kamikun would insist they buy some expensive barbeque meat from the local vendor down the street after they had spent some time getting wasted and high on marijuana.


“No one can smell your breath, its not that obvious Kami.”


“I am not taking chances bruh. If my parents ever find out, they will literally kill me.”


“No one can find out. The smell of weed doesn’t linger that long.”


“If Jadesola finds out, that is when my whole life would be done for.”


The teenagers laughed it off that afternoon, but Paul wasn’t quite impressed at his shorter friend’s concerns.


Now Kamikun was starting to talk about finding money to buy a new phone for his girlfriend. The silly chump was already in love. Paul disliked girls and the burden they put on boys and men. His father had married three times and each time, it ended the same way, with a bitter dispute over money. He was determined never to get married and didn’t care if he had children or not. I sincerely wished he wasn’t a burden to his father.


“Money, money, money, I need money.” Kamikun was singing into his ears.


“What option are you thinking about buh?”


“Anything right now Paul. I need to raise some cash.”


“Phone are not exactly cheap.”


“Yes, I know.”


“How about we sell something that is worth some value so we can get the money. But we will have to split it down the middle for both of us.” Paul puffed out a thick ring of smoke as he spoke.


Kamikun thought about it for a while.


It sounded like a decent and simple plan.


But when Paul mentioned that it may involve stealing a valuable artifact from one of their affluent neighbors on the street, Kamikun had his doubts.


(Decision point 1) – Do you think Kamikun should agree to this idea?