Chapter 3 The place was an old looking bungalow, with cream colored paint job that had long faded. The guard that let him in didn’t look official in the worn-out blue jeans and brown short sleeve shirt he had on. There was a tall coconut tree in the compound that had caused cracks on the cemented floor; the cracks looked like tributaries of a big river. After locking the gate, the man led him into the house. Unlike the outside of the house, the inside looked more modern. It had black wooden floors, three black leather sofas arranged in sort of like a semi circle form, and a black desk and chair with a white computer at the left corner of the room; the computer’s monitor was at least 24 inches. It was clear the house was recently remodeled and furnished. The man didn’t step in, but held on to the door and urged Sesan to go in. Then he nodded at Sesan before closing the door. Alone in the living room, he looked around the place. The smell of fresh leather and wood filled the air. There were no family pictures hanging on the white walls or nothing lying around that gave it a feel of a living room, but it still was too informal to be an office. The wall unit made a sudden loud sound like it was changing temperature, and it startled Sesan. That was probably kept from before the remodeling of the place, Sesan thought. He took a seat by the two seater couch closest to him. Just then a door to his left swung open, and an elderly man emerged from the room. “Hello.” He said in tiny voice as he approached with the vigor of a young man. He had grey afro hair, and long grey beard like the writer, Wole Soyinka. Sesan got off his seat to greet him. They shook hands, and Sesan bowed his head in greeting. The man took the seat opposite Sesan, tucked his glasses back in place, and adjusted the brown Ankara attire he had on. “This place is actually a home office.” He said. He cleared his throat before adding, “I thought it would be wise to avoid all the hassles that a real office comes with…workers, cleaners, tax, and all that.” He smiled and the smile on his face lingered longer than normal as he focused on Sesan; that and the awkward silence made Sesan feel a little uncomfortable. As if sensing this, he clasped his hands and sat up in his seat. “So…let me brief you on what you would be doing.” “Okay sir. But, umm! Sir, aren’t you going to interview me?” “For what? You are tall, athletic, and the age range I asked for.” He said and Sesan smiled. “I need you for what you can do for me, not what a paper qualification says you can do for me.” “So… I’m guessing you know who Professor Peller was, right?” The man said and Sesan looked lost. “You don’t know the name Peller?” “Umm! I only know the Peller that owns Quilox.” “Q what? What’s that” It was the man’s turn to look lost. “Quilox is a night club sir.” “Oh.” The man said and laughed a little before saying, “I heard one of the late great magician’s kids was in the club business.” “Sir…So, Shina Peller’s dad was a magician?” “Yes; From Iseyin in Oyo state. Back in the 60s, the man was doing shows all over Lagos; Great magician. He was a great entertainer.” “Oh. Wow! I didn’t know that.” “Yes. So, that’s what I want to bring back to the Nigerian scene. Nigerians need some magical entertainment right now.” He said with a smile. He looked lost in thought for a few seconds, before snapping back to reality with a quick shake of the head. “I’m working on putting together a series of shows in Lagos this Christmas.” “Okay sir.” “Yea…we would be using venues like Muson Center and National Arts Theatre.” “Okay sir.” “By the way, how much do you know about magic?” “Umm! I sometimes watch Chris Angel videos on Youtube.” “Filmed magic tricks.” He said with disgust. “I hate them. They are the fakest.” He added and Sesan smiled. “Well, every form of magic is not real anyway; it’s just tricks. But I’m an Illusionist; a stage magician. At least people like me have the decency of doing the magic tricks in front of real people.” “Sir. I’ve been…” Sesan started to say and stopped to clear his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…Umm! So, there is no real magic?” The man smiled at him for a long time, making him feel uncomfortable again. “There is.” He finally said. “There is real magic. And do you want to know the truth?” “Yes sir.” Sesan said and leaned forward. “Sesan Ogundairo, you have magical powers. You are a Magician.”



am a website designer, article writer and re writter. social media promotion.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *