IT COULDN'T MATTER LESS (Bolaji new book)

By Omoseye Bolaji

I must confess that one of my shortcomings involves having something of a whimsical, sardonic, perhaps even wicked sense of humour – sometimes. Hence, intermittently even whilst alone, I can be savouring a joke and smiling, or even laughing in a corner...an embarrassing thing!


And so it was today. There I was in a corner of a major street absent-mindedly staring at an impressive, rather marmoreal building. Then it happened; something that seemed funny to me came to my mind and I began to smile broadly...chuckling... alas, an acquaintance of mine now saw me!

“Ntate!” said he, coming closer to shake hands. “You scare me when you smile like that. I have heard that when you smile it means something bad is gonna happen – to someone else!” He was joking of course, and we both laughed.

I grinned. “You are being polite; surely we both know that when a man starts laughing alone or talking to himself in a corner, it usually indicates that the strait jacket should be got ready! Why not say I’m going bonkers in my old age?”

He laughed. “If only that were so. No mad man can do all those things you always do, write, edit, galvanise, organise...ah, by the way I have got you! Maybe I know why you are smiling...is it because your new book is out now...?”

“My new book?”

He said: “Come on Ntate! Don’t bluff me. So you didn’t want me to know that your new book is out. I saw a copy with Mr Lechesa, Pule Lechesa the writer, critic; whatever that is...your new book is titled It couldn’t matter less. Red cover,”

I looked apologetic, but he went on swiftly: “It’s as if you don’t want people to know the book is out, at least locally here. So far I have seen no stories about your new book in the papers and magazines...it was only when I checked the internet that I saw some references on your new book, mainly that interview. Why the secrecy this time around?”

“Maybe I am tired of publishing books every year,” I said. “Let it be done quietly this time around!”

“You don’t care about sales?” he probed.

“Publicity does not necessarily mean that book will sell; we know our markets anyway, and the relevant literary protagonists who will snap up the book immediately. On my own part, I am always anxious that people who really embrace literature, who love writing, reading – like Ntate Lechesa who you mentioned now – get to see new books...”

“In other words you do not care about ‘illiterates’ like me,” he said, simulating the ambience of one who is hurt. But I knew him for the wag that he is!

“Don’t put words into my mouth,” I said. “It’s still early doors yet, as they say; the book is just out. Yet you already know about it,”

“I flicked through it (the book)” he said proudly. “There are many interesting chapters there. “It reminds me of your previous book, Miscellaneous Writings. Anyway, it’s obvious it is a collection of your latest pieces written recently. Very fine cover,”

I grinned. “So you are judging the book by its cover...you understand my alleged apathy over the book now?”

“Don’t be cynical, Ntate. Seriously many of us like the world of writing more than you think. I am writing a book too, maybe you’ll go through it for me when I finish,”

“You have been talking about the book you are writing even before your daughter was born some ten years ago,” I said rather harshly. “And yet you never finish it! Sometimes you say it’s poetry, sometimes you say it’s your biography, then again you sub it fiction...hawu!” We both laughed; he knew that it was true that for quite a number of years now, he has been talking about working on a book – which I suspect is non-existent!

We both fidgeted, knowing it was time to move on now. He said: “Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you on your new book; and maybe you can tell me how I can get my copy?”

“Okay,” I gave him the pertinent information.