African Literature, Short story

Couch Potato

On a sad note, there will be no Novocaine Knights for now. I am taking a break to work on so many projects. Emphasis on so many; I need my mind and time uncluttered. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for but Fish Brain Vows continues because it’s already been written down.


So, this is one of my short stories. I didn’t know what to call it. I chose Couch Potato in the end. It is a heartfelt love letter from a she to a he.



Dear Friday,

Yes, i can call you Friday because i have lost respect for you. I will call you by your name and there’ll be nothing you’ll do to me because i will be dead by the time you’re reading this, burnt to ashes at the backyard. And you will cry, Friday. Yes you’ll cry like the useless baby you are because you are not fit to be called a man.

Why this hostility, you may ask? You want me to tell you? Wait for me first let me ask Ifa before i answer you. Mtsheeew! Useless somebody.

Friday, shey you know i’m a babe, right? You’re not thinking am a guy after all these years because if you are then you’re a faggot and you will never make heaven.

I am a girl! I was created a girl and i am going to die a girl. I am telling you this because you have not treated me like a lady. Idiot! You’ve been treating me like that stupid Emeka guy that always visits this house and sits with you and drinks himself to drunkeness and messes up my precious space. He is one of the reasons why i am giving up.

You see, Emeka is the dirtiest fool i have met in my life. Emeka comes and lands his hard ass on me and the first thing he does is farts! Always! And he will laugh like an old dog, sometimes even adding ‘hmmm…this mess dey smell.’ And he will sit on that fart and push it into my original suede material until it enters my soul and sticks in me forever. Yet is him who will say ‘this akpoche dey smell like shit’ May his generations never see chair to sit down!

But let me not cuss his generation too much because your sweet younger sister, Blessing, might just bring to life all his igbotic seeds. Oops! That slipped out of nowhere. You see, despite what she has become these days, me and Blessing, we’re still friends, somehow. She is the only one that somehow cares for me because every morning she will come and dust me and straighten me out for the reason that she wants to see how i change to different shades as her palm lovingly caresses me #NoHomo. I also like her because she and i have a lot in common. We are both victims of abuse. As all of you abuse me, that is how she is abused by Madam and Mama who like to shout on her and send her around for no reason; and even Papa Junior, your neighbor who comes by in the name of watching Champion’s League – in the afternoon. Who watches champion’s league in the afternoon, biko? Only him sabi. But i use to use my one eye to see when he tries to fondle Blessing any small chance he gets. Thank God she has resisted him. However, she has not resisted Emeka. Yes, so if you must know, he has been doing Blessing on top of me for over five months now. They will wait for you and madam to go and sleep and then you will see him tiptoe to her door, knock and poke in his head and she will sneak out as Mama is there snoring like a hungry warthog and they will off the lights and land on me and start their thing. They are one of the reasons why i have aged considerably. Only God will judge him for all the stinking semen that has soaked my body when Blessing begs him ‘brother emmy, abeg no pour for inside me.’ i intentionally started squeaking loudly so that they will stop but for where! they like the ting too much. So now you know. Anytime Emeka tells you a brother or cousin has visited from the village and there’s no space at his, he is lying. He came to bang your dirty, little sister.

But God will also judge that Blessing too. Instead of her to use the money you give her monthly to buy common Always of 200 naira; she will be using rag. She will sit on it from morning till evening watching tasteless Nollywood movies until the thing will soak and soak into my future. Haba! Anyway, no need to lament. It will be over in the next few minutes.


How about those your two stupid boys that don’t have common home training? Peter and Paul will just come back from school and before Blessing will say go and change your school uniform, they have landed their smelling bodies on me. Dust, sand, all-what-not plus body odor! My Gord! How can seven year olds have body odor like that? Tufia! I don’t blame them sha. Blessing will tell them to go and shower but Mama will say, ‘leave my boys alone and go and bring food make dem chop.’ They will bring the food and they will sit on me and God bless me if it is ogbono. My day will just be yucky.


Lord! What happened to those days when Mrs. Reed sat on me with her flat oyibo ynash and drank nice, aromatic tea while she watched the late night news? Where are those days when she would speak to me as if i was human and say ‘Sandy, you’re the only friend i have. You’re so trustworthy, i feel i could tell you all my secrets.’ then she’ll lie on me gently and tell me beautiful tales of the country we came from. She said we were from New York, the city that never sleeps, the big apple. She told me so many things but i’m too Nigerianized now to remember them. Plus, i have amnesia, thanks to the beating Madam always gives me every Friday night in the name of killing her enemies. ‘Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!’ she would say and slam her fists into me. But i never planned to die by beating, so i will hold it in and endure the spittle that always flew out of her mouth and landed on me. What a lady she is. Nothing like Mrs. Reed.

Ah! Friday! God curse the day you came to work as a houseboy for that darling oyibo woman. Only God knows where she is now. I often see her on TV. I’m not so sure it’s her though as your son, Peter, has happily removed two of my eyes. That day he was shouting and telling his dirty brother, ‘paul see! It’s even button they chook here. Haha! Let’s see if it’s soft.’ And they ate my eyes. Lord, why me!


But let’s go back to you, Friday, and the reason why i am writing this letter. You and i use to be such good friends. Remember the day Mrs. Reed told you to take me away and care for my beautiful, black fur? Remember what you said? ‘I’ll take care of it well-well.’ I was upset that you called me an ‘it’ but after a few days with you and i saw that you kept your word, dusting me faithfully, always coming to smell Mrs. Reed’s perfume on me and hugging me for retaining her smell on you, i knew you were a good guy. And so i trusted you and in time, i fell in love with you. Yes, Friday, i have a psychological illness called Humanum Sexuality where i fall not for my kind but for humans. I know you humans have yours. I watched a documentary of people who married the Berlin Wall and Eiffel Tower. Sickos!

Yes, i loved and still love you Friday. In those days, it was just me and you. I was your couch, your bed, your friend, your lover… I let you do everything on me and i didn’t mind, you bloody wanker. You were all i had in this life. When one of my strings gave way, you were so upset and you brought in that good old carpenter to fix me up. You wanted me always in good shape because with me you scored many a chick. I was a little jealous but i knew none of them lasted.


Alas! I was wrong! One sad day when the sun was burning the world outside, you brought in the woman that created the chasm between us and stole me from you forever. Who cares what her name was because as the years wore on i only got to know her as Madam. She hated me from that first day. ‘Friday,’ she had said, ‘what is this black, ugly akpoche doing here? Abeg, we must buy better furniture before we marry o. My family cannot come and see this kain of thing here.’

Things changed after that day. You brought in some very ajegunle looking family of chairs. Did they last? No. Two years and they all kaputed. LWKMD! After they were forming for me. You brought in the second set. Those ones tried sef. Two and a half years but they too went the way of their predecessors. And finally someone advised you to get wrought iron trash. Pulizzz! Those things belong in a metal works junk yard. Cold hearted sons of bitches. The three-sitter had the gall to toast me last week. He doesn’t know i cam give birth to him. Fools!

Friday, let me not waste time here. The long and short is that i am neglected, abused, maimed, beaten, semenized, menstruated upon, told to die, just to mention a few. You don’t look at me anymore like you used to. The other day you said i stunk and you sat on the two-sitter. Madam has called for my head over and over and said i don’t fit with the decor. What decor? Your miserable, tight sitting room has decor? Mtshew! Make i hear word.

Friday, i am worn out and scattered under and as i speak this i am holding myself by just one string, waiting for someone to sit on me and fall to their death. At least, i won’t go alone. The moment i shatter to pieces, Madam will call Papa Junior to throw me out and she will burn me on Saturday. When you return on Sunday, you will see my ashes.

Thank you for a useless life, for allowing me see my death slowly, for all the abuse. May you reap what you have sown.

Still we had good times, no? Your loss. I die with my head held high. Don’t allow wind to scatter my ashes into Nigerian wind. I will not become ash in this country.

Have a nice life. Get someone who looks just like me and piss Madam off. By the way, i’m leaving this letter in the shorts that slipped into the space between my cushion. Please, chill on whipping the bishop; you mustn’t get a happy ending every night.

*hugs and kisses*

Sandy the Couch.


Author. Screenwriter. Blogger

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  1. fola unique says:

    wow! Dis is lovely aunty sally

  2. Uche says:

    Walahi Talahi Sally, I haven’t been able to stop laughing, belle don dey pain me sef… Nice! Really hilarious, thanks for this dose of ingenuous humor.

  3. chibaby says:

    ok am sitting on my couch reading this & thinking if my couch it talking right now……………….oh sally see what you ve done to me. lols

  4. Noksis says:

    Awwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. I am trying to imagine what my bed will say it it had mouth. It is my bed, couch pacifier, lover and all. Wow.

  5. oluwaseyi says:

    Lmao…… The coushion dey para gidi gan!!! Good work sally, and God speed in all your endeavours!

  6. Toki says:

    No more novocaine knights? *sheds single tear*

  7. Dan Auta says:

    Novocaine knights gone or would i say impeached by a couch. No wahala.

  8. Rukayat says:


  9. mariam says:

    Lol! Nice one Sally as Celine Dion sang if walls could talk..Hmmnnnnnnn……..Dont even want to think about it.

  10. ShyChic says:

    Awww Sally! You left me in stitches…lol. I actually stopped mid way and thought if my bed actually talks…lwkmd. You made my day. I will miss Novocaine Knights like kilode sha. Sally,you have inspired me to leave this bed before it actually starts talking#winks#.

  11. amadex says:

    waoh sis sally,rili luv dt u ar goin to continue fishbrain vow.thks for d eid mssg,dts thoughtful of u.

  12. tedypine says:

    Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww abt Novocaine Knights… Haahahahahahahahhahahhahahahhah.thisarticle is hilarious.kpele oo. 9ce one sally

  13. adefunke says:

    Seriously, couch don vex

  14. Arepade says:

    Hahaha sandy the couch sorry o. Pls tel Emeka to go outside in the open n fart, since mess no get restroom

  15. oyin says:

    Wow! That was awesome, at first I was like what has this guy done to deserve the insults? Midway, I realised what happened and was just shining my teeth especially when I got to that Blessing’s part. She is just a mess, hahaha. *the talking bed and chair* Good job dearie.

  16. kevwe says:

    Oh no!! My Wura and mymood!!..#sobing#
    This article sha still can’t stp shinning my teeth…lol…nice one sally

  17. mary says:

    Lmao!dis is so awesome!whether it’s a series or not,Sally u leave no story half-baked.Well done!

  18. Kemi says:

    Wow! I was chuckling throughout. Well written.

  19. sekinat says:

    swt, had to read it twice before i undastand it. beautiful!!! the couch para no be small.

  20. gbemmy says:

    Hahahahahahahahaha, eh ehe eh eh. Salllllly oooo. If things could talk, no more secrets in this world again be that! Thanks sally, I laffed with my mouth wide sef

  21. anthony says:

    OMG!!! This letter just made my day! Not sure what happened, but i managed to move from the couch to the ground while reading this. Guess i’ll treat furniture more nicely after today. Lol! You’ve got a colorful imagination sally, well done!

  22. Tizzy says:

    Lmao. Oh no! Poor poor Sandy. She has seen enough of life. She should bow out gracefully.
    Choi! See me talking. How will I survive without NovoK. *bursts into tears* Sandy, wait for me!!!!

  23. Ustyn says:

    That was funny but very interesting….

  24. This is hilarious. A Very creative story but wait a minute….. what is goin on here….. no novacaine knights!!!. Arghh!! A couch story in its stead? *carrying placards* #bringbackourknights!! #bringbackourknights!! #bringbackourknights!!

  25. Smh. Seriously? Sally? Hehehehehehe. Your imaginations tho. Out of planet earth. May b in space or sumthn.

  26. Tee says:

    Just imagine, if evrytin in d house can talk. Lol wahala dey.

  27. lol……..this is heart breaking. Lets show some love

  28. Z says:

    Cute. Very cute. ..let me ask Ifa before I answer you. Lol. Everything has eyes. Enjoy your break. I have enough saved Novo Knights episodes to keep me busy in your absence.

    1. Z says:

      Blessings should take some a dat naira tofo buy condoms.

  29. darkiebussie says:

    Lmao… Sally, you have such a wide imagination…

  30. Praise says:

    The couch is really vexed, very funny.
    if only couch can actually talk, so many secrets will be revealed
    Sally well done. Ur writings amazes me

  31. Pius says:

    Eeeeeeeeeeeeewwww!!! Mensurating on the couch? Ok. That’s the height of it Sally. I’m still stuck there. I’m sure I’ll never look at a chair or couch or even bed the same again.

  32. Chude says:

    Well done Sally.

  33. zzee says:

    Sally! my own person! u’re good. ur imagination? gaga

  34. Sally… Sally? You there?
    Time is such a bitch… I should’ve read this earlier.
    I felt like your ideal reader while reading this and I remembered Mr Woody all the time, remember him?
    Some stories and secrets we never get to know because the inanimate don’t talk.
    Loved this piece, it painted some level of poverty there and total neglect too

    1. imotolab2014 says:

      yes o chreez. i also read it n remembered Mr woody. you know, there are somethings that we humans just don’t realize. i dont mean like its important but i think we should all just try to take care of our things. just imagine if they could actually talk

  35. imotolab2014 says:

    hehehe. lols. weird ima-gees aunty sally. so sorry i went AWOL. just had my dose of dish brain vows. take all d time you need aunt, we will alwaais be here, well i will sha. much as i love novo knights, i love u more. so go ahead and unclutter ur mind.

  36. Adeola gem says:

    Hehehehe! Ms Sally, what a piece. I can’t stop laughing. Your sense of imagination get PhD o. I doff my hat. RIP Couch. You get a semblance in my house. My babyboo & I don sho am pepper. If e get another life, e no fit branch my house.

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