Chapter 13: How I Became the Worst DJ in History
After surviving Kelvin the Goat's spiritual attacks, I returned to town determined to "rebrand" myself.
My chance came when Ama—the beautiful girl from my area—invited me to her birthday party.
The plan?
Look cool. Be chill. Impress her.
Maybe even get a hug if the Holy Spirit allowed.
At the party, the DJ was late. Everyone was restless.
Then Ama turned to me and said,
"Kelvin, you look like you know music! Can you help?"
Me?
Kelvin?
Music king?
I said, "Of course!"
(Lies. I only knew how to press play and panic.)
They handed me the AUX cord and said,
"Do your magic."
First mistake: I connected my phone without switching off voice notes.
As I started playing "Essence" by Wizkid, a loud voice note from my Auntie Vida blasted through the speakers:
"Kelvin, don't forget to rub Robb on your chest before you sleep. Your cough sounds demonic!"
Everyone went silent.
Ama stared at me like I had committed war crimes.
Trying to save the moment, I quickly played the next track.
But somehow, I accidentally clicked on my "Gym Motivation" playlist.
Suddenly, the party speakers were screaming:
"YOU ARE NOT A FAILURE! DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME 50 PUSH-UPS!"
Chaos.
People thought it was part of the event and started fake exercising.
Somebody's wig flew off during jumping jacks.
Children were crying.
The jollof fell.
Ama quietly took the AUX from me and said:
"Thank you, Kelvin. You've done... enough."
I still think about that day when I hear motivational speeches.
My chest still hurts.