Duru, The Mad Man

Around last year, there was a mād man who used to roam about the streets of Onitsha particularly around the market. People called him Duru Fried Rice. The addition of the fried rice to his name was because whatever Duru usually ate, he claimed it was fried rice.

He was a very funny man and usually stopped to greet people with funny names he had made up. He would say to a female passerby dressed for work, "Sissy Maria, weldone oo, make sure you use perfume next time so that you can smell nice like me." It didn't matter whether the lady's name was Maria or not. Duru simply conjured up whatever name was in his mind.

He usually greeted my mother every morning as he made his rounds, begging. He would call out, "Mama Buchi, pound that fufu well oo, I will soon come and eat one plate. I know it is not as good as my beloved fried rice but I will manage it."

My mother owned a canteen in the market and I usually helped her on weekends and in the afternoon after closing from school.

One fateful Easter Sunday, a kind hearted woman presented During with a plate of home cooked fried rice. She frequented the market and had seen Duru, the mād man many times eating what he called fried rice but was anything other than that. So, out of the benevolence of her heart that Easter Sunday, she decided to give Duru the real fried rice so that he could have a taste of it. Duru was delighted and thanked the woman.

"Thank you, my mother." He bowed before her and continued. " You will give birth to plenty children, you will have happiness in your life and you will prosper. Thank you, may God bless you."

She simply nodded, answered with a very low " Amen" and left the market place.

Duru opened the plate of fried rice, discarded the spoon that the woman had put in it and used his hand to scoop the food into his mouth. Within seconds, he had consumed the entire plate of food. He belched with satisfaction and smiled broadly.

About ten minutes later, with an alarming speed, Duru stood up and heaved the contents of his stomach into the nearby gutter. It seemed that the woman's properly cooked fried rice couldn't adapt to the toxic contents of Duru's stomach.