Glue
Glue.
It makes us all stick together.
In my mind.
That is why I like to sniff it. You see?
Me, I am working parking.
I am to be best parking boy in this city
You need parking sir? Madame?
No problem
You stick with me and I find you best spot
I find you spot and then I wave you in
Then you can park your car and eat at fancy restaurant
Okay sir? Madame?
No problem.
All day I work parking
Then I go to glue bar
I know best mama pima, you see?
This mama pima she sells me glue at good price
She sells glue past the sugarcane sticks
Then I sniff the glue
Then everyone in my mind
They all stick together
Nice!
Without glue nothing sticks, you see?
The big shot with his Mercedes Benz
And his family is in clean clothes
And his children in dark green school uniforms
With two yellow stripes on the sweater collar
Big shot’s children
They cannot stick with me
In my dirty clothes
With holes and tears
I have many tears, many tears
When I sniff glue
No more tears, no more holes
That is why I go to buy glue from mama pima
Past the mango seller I go and buy glue
Everything is now sticking together.
You see?
I am wearing school uniform now
Dark green sweater uniform for school
Two yellow stripes on the sweater collar
Yellow tie with dark green stripes
White shirt
Clean white with no holes
No more tears
Going to nice school now
Nice!
I put on my spectacles
And I study my books at my desk
In the clean classroom
My father he is big shot now
He says to me you study good, son
You get good marks in school
And I will take you to fancy restaurant
So I study good, and now…
I am to be sitting in our big Mercedes Benz
No problem
My father he is to be parking our car now
Parking boy he is running to us
In dirty clothes
With holes and tears
He is waving us to a nice parking spot
We are happy
We are going to fancy restaurant
In our Mercedes Benz
My father he gives parking boy
Big tip
My father he is now a
Big shot
Parking boy he is now also happy
He has money
Nice!
He has big tip from my big shot father now
So parking boy he takes his money from my father’s hand
Then,
He gives my father’s money to the hand of the mama pima
Mama pima she then gives parking boy fresh glue to sniff
Me, I am now going to fancy restaurant with my family
In my clean black shoes and my clean white shirt
I watch the parking boy in his dirty brown clothes
With holes and tears
He has many tears, many tears
Where is he going?
I ask my father where this parking boy is going
My father he says he is going to buy something
With his big tip
Will he buy some maize-meal, father?
No.
Will he buy some mangos or some papaya, father?
No.
A sugarcane stick, father?
No.
What will he buy then, father?
Glue.
Karim Ajania