He may be broke and jobless, skinny and scrawny, spending most of his days idling on a wooden bench at a friend’s barber shop, talking about football and politics while recharging his phone with a bamba twenty he took on credit from a nearby shop. He shares a small room with a(nother) friend, where his two shirts and a trouser hang on a rope, or lay in a messy pile at a corner, with a thinning mattress on the floor. When you look at his feet, you will see a pair of worn out sandals, dust, and cracked soles. He may not appear to amount to much, but this man will sweet talk you like it’s his career. He will flatter you with honeyed words as if he was tutored by Shakespeare himself. He may not look like the ideal Lothario, but this destitute man will not fail to confuse you with his smooth talk and make you quiver with his charm. He may be weak, but he will dislocate your entire pelvis. He may not have the energy to improve his life, but make no mistake; he has the energy to plough you like a large-scale maize farm, even if he hasn’t eaten all day. He may not have the tools to start a business of his own, but he has all the tools to start you like a dead engine on a cold, cold day. He may not know what to do with his life, but he knows exactly what to do with you, and how to do it
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