Yeah-o, my people. Da me again. Da me Paul. I na come again. And I will come everyday. You like it, jacko; you na like it, Jack-o’-Lantern. Da me say so.
Yor wait let me give yor the gees about what can be in a woman’s handbag. When the women them ask yor about who said it, don’t be scared to call my name. Da me Paul. My mou’h na scared. Da so, so stupid, stupid things can be in most of the handbags Liberian women can be carrying around here. Da me say so. And I will not be scared to waste it waa-saa.
Guess what? Some time ago, Mary Broh went around 20th Street to break down some structures. Mary Broh’s presence and actions caused pandemonium. Frightened people ran here and there, while curious ones rushed on the road to watch what was happening. Most of us know what the presence and actions of Mary Broh can do. It was action time.
Anyway, a woman having a big handbag on her shoulder and running from the action-scene to avoid being hurt, mistakenly stumped her left foot and felt just like that. Instantly, her bag opened. Guess what came rolling from inside? First, three big cucumbers that looked like huge pawpaws came running out. Next, a cold water plastic bag full of some oily food jumped out. Quickly, it burst open and cow skin gravy started dropping here and there, with the well-seasoned pieces of cow skin shaking like pieces of rubber. Ehn yor see what can be in a woman’s handbag?
The same day, I saw another woman with a baby on her back running from the JFK fence and coming toward the main entrance. She was running behind a friend of hers who had borrowed her handbag that morning. The baby on her back was sick and she was taking her to hospital that morning, but she had forgotten to take the baby’s hospital card from her other handbag, which her friend had borrowed that morning.
She didn’t realize that she had left the card in the handbag until she reached the OPD area at JFK. She didn’t want her friend to get in a car and leave from around the JFK area. It was an emergency situation. That’s why she started that running race with herself that morning. Luckily for her, the friend was still waiting for car under the plum tree in front of the main gate.
“Ba, my baby’s hospital card left in the handbag I lent you. It is lying at the bottom of the bag. Please take it from there and give it to me,” said the lender to her friend. The girl having the handbag said to her friend, “Let’s go behind the plum tree so that I can take it from there. We’re too plenty on this road.”
The two friends went behind the plum tree, and the borrower started the process of finding the card. She opened the big bag and first took out a huge big towel that was by far bigger than the one I usually tie when I want to take bath. I jerked. Then she put her hand back and took out two big teddy bears before finally reaching the card. Ehn yor see what can be in a woman’s handbag?
The same day, I walked to the Joe Bar market on the Old Road to see one of my friends at the Smythe Road Junction. While he and I were talking about the stupid things women like to put in their handbags, we saw an old lady running behind one beautiful girl who was having a beautiful and sizable handbag with her. Before the old lady’s arrival, my friend had already praised her, “Hello, fine girl with the fine bag!”
It was only after the old lady had come that we realized why the bag was that puffed up. “Give my grandchild thing. Don’t carry my grandchild thing today. He want to sleep,” demanded the old lady.
“What could this ‘grandchild thing’ be?” I wondered. But the old lady would not stop tormenting the beautiful young girl. The old lady started hanging on the girl bag dat kinda way.
The girl, angry and frustrated, opened her bag, took the thing from there and gave it to the old lady. Guess what it was? A helluva big pillar that the old lady can put under her grandchild’s head. I was shocked — seeing a girl putting pillar in her handbag just to make it look okay. Ehn yor see what can be in a woman’s handbag?
The same day, I left my friend and came back to the offices of the New Dawn newspaper on Crown Hill. Just before entering the fence to park my car, one of the reckless motorcyclists in Monrovia knocked a young girl down right in front of the Crown Hill Cinema. The girl was having in her hand a very beautiful and well-propped up handbag.
Guess what jumped from in it? First, some bitterballs jumped from there and started rolling like marbles thrown by a confused kid. After that, three oinions and a huge piece of muan-muan jumped from there as if they were vexed, followed by one short sugar cane and a big piece of water melon. The last things I saw coming out were groundpea candy and two boiled eggs. Ehn yor see what can be in a woman’s handbag?
The funny part was that, instead of the girl paying attention to the scraping marks on her body, she said, “Eh, mehn, whehthing these stupid thing them doing so?”
“Ah, thank God she herself realizes that it is so, so stupid things in there,” I whispered to myself.
Seriously, my people, aren’t these points to ponder?