Le Couzo

“Il est lààààààààààà”, yells a student. “Le Couzo est là.” A diesel-fuelled, dark coated Mercedes C 220 arrives at the speed of a Formula 1 (F1) Race and parks at the CV compound. The car raises unprecedented dust at the CV complex and the actor is yet to emerge from the shadows of the dust. The car was neat, five-geared, with thick, well-polished roadworthy tyres, an impeccable sound system (Kenwood speakers), customized side mirrors and the registration number ended with the initials of the owner AN. You could tell that the bumper and the break-line of the car were good. The F1 driver still lurked in the shadow of the dust he raised, he was neither Michael Night nor Michael Schumacher, and neither was the car KIT, Le Couzo was the nickname of the driver. Suddenly, the dust gave way. A slim, haggard, dark, sexy man emerges. He steps out, closes the door, opens the back door, pulls out his black messenger bag which harbours his laptop and other gadgets, closes the backdoor and walks to class. In the meantime, the dust was yet to settle. I took stock of him and his ceremonious display and pulled my conclusions; he was an exhibitionist. He walked to class like a Hip Hop debut singer, swinging his head and body from left to right or better still walking like Mohammed Ali during his boxing fight at Kinshasa. Before he stepped his shoe in class, he pressed the button on his car key to close the car. I sighed in dismay.

 

                     Talking about his shoe, it was a soft, designer, leather shoe, punctuated inside by black socks. He wore a pair of black, jeans that strangled his already svelte waist and he wore a white shirt. He wore much jewellery on his supple, dusky skin; a wrist watch and necklaces. He had a wire-rimmed, thin glass that had become part of his body; you never see him without them. His bald-head just like Mr Skopos was yet to attain completion point. Le Couzo came to class with a text that we translated the titled as “SOS Village d’Enfants”. The translation of that text impressed no student; his suggestions were ambiguous. Talking about his laptop! Hum! Everything about his laptop was unlimited; RAM, Hard drive, Webcam pixel, etc. It was a Sony Vaio laptop. The laptop required 7 passwords to boot. Whatever Le Couzo hid in the laptop is yet to be known. Nobody had the right to touch his first wife, the second being his car and the third probably his wife. Even his close aids such as L’Albinos and Le Nkunkuma  (To be dwelled on in subsequent chapters) had no right to even loiter around the laptop. It was a no-go-zone. He had a bizarre voice, coupled with his village intonation. He spoke in slow motion. His voice was like that of a goat, but an improved version.