THE POCKET CONTEST


I am Kiboko Yao. I never fail. I always win; fights, debates,
any competition.
Bring them my way and the prize shall be mine.
Cha! They wanted to test me one day. They wanted to trick me into shame. 

To drag my name in the mud. They tried.
They surely tried. But like I said, failure is not in my genes. 


I was challenged to a contest. They called it 'the pocket contest'. The man with the biggest jeans pocket wins and winner takes home a new mountain bicycle.
I was invited with jest to this silly contest. We gathered in a line, four of us. Judges sat on their panel. 

Spectators, witnesses and paparazzi's all around, staring at us like we were roasted meat.
They were hungry for entertainment.
The moderator called upon us one by one for judges and audience to see.
Each contestant was asked to choose an object that would fit in pocket. 

The bigger the object, the bigger the pocket. 

One fit a stone. Shame on him for calling that a pocket. 

Another fit in an apple. He was leaping with joy like a child who has seen a giant lollipop. He must have skipped a stage in his childhood. 
The third fit in a rat. Everyone applauded excitedly at him. They believed he would be the winner. 
The moderator eyed me, a cocky smile on his face. He was my nemesis. Everybody knew he hated me. He wanted me to lose.
Shame in him too. He should find a new hobby.

Then it was finally my turn. I stepped forward, as confident and as sure as I was meant to be. 
Born to win. Yes i was. 

"Choose your object", the moderator instructed, twisting his lips.
I smiled, showing off my three broken rotten teeth.
"Bring me a cat!" I ordered.
A cat was brought forward by paparazzis.
"Put it in the back pocket!" Again I ordered, the moderator busted with laughter. He shook his head sideways. 

"A cat in your pocket? That is a joke. I will give you my wife as your maid  if that thing gets in there."
He scorned. The paparazzi held out my back pocket and pushed in the cat.
Loo! It fit perfectly. 


The crowed cheered and applauded loudly.
The moderator was wide mouthed. Speechless. His vocal cords refused to cooperate with his brains.
"Tell your wife I enjoy chicken soup before bed time", I whispered in his ear. 

I walked over to the judges and claimed my prize. Together with my new pet in my back pocket, we rode happily home.

I am Kiboko Yao. I never fail. I always win.
I tell them, though they never listen.
Never mess with the blessed. 


*~ THE END.~*

Composed and Written By: Zuhura Seng'enge
Picture Prompt Inspirations.

5 comments:

Please share your thoughts and feelings..