12/07/2026
The invisible tenant and the smartest school boy in Lagos 🤣,
It was a hot afternoon in the compound. The kind of heat that makes even generators look tired. Inside the parlour, everything looked normal—plastic chairs, a shaky table, one old fan turning like it was negotiating with NEPA.
But under that same table… was a full-grown man.
Mr. Okeke.
Flat on his stomach.
Sweating like roasted corn.
Breathing like a hunted goat.
Every small sound from outside was entering his soul.
Because standing at the door…
Was Chief landlord himself.
The man held the door like a lion guarding meat. His voice alone could increase your blood pressure.
“WHERE IS YOUR FATHER?!” he thundered.
The little boy standing in the middle of the parlour adjusted his shorts like a government official preparing to lie professionally.
“Daddy said I should tell you… he is not at home.”
Under the table, Mr. Okeke nodded proudly.
"Good boy. Very intelligent child."
Chief narrowed his eyes.
“NOT AT HOME?! But his slippers are here… his cap is here… even his phone is ringing inside this house!”
The boy swallowed.
“He forgot them.”
Under the table, Mr. Okeke stopped nodding.
"This boy is now freelancing."
Chief stepped one foot inside.
“LISTEN CAREFULLY. I am the landlord here! If your father does not pay today, all of you will PACK OUT!”
Under the table, Mr. Okeke almost sneezed but covered his mouth like his life depended on it.
The boy scratched his head.
“He didn’t tell me when he will return…”
Chief leaned closer.
“WHEN. WILL. HE. RETURN?!”
The boy suddenly brightened.
“Oh! Wait… let me ask him.”
Silence.
Time froze.
Even the fan paused like it wanted to hear the rest.
Under the table, Mr. Okeke’s soul left his body and came back.
"This boy… this boy is a national problem."
The boy bent down slowly…
Very slowly…
Like someone checking if there’s biscuit under the table.
Chief followed his movement with eagle eyes.
The boy peeped under the table.
Father and son locked eyes.
The boy whispered: “Daddy, when are you coming back?”
Mr. Okeke whispered angrily: “Are you mad?!”
Chief shouted: “AHHHHHH!! So you are UNDER THE TABLE!!!”
Mr. Okeke jumped up so fast he hit his head.
“Chief! I was just… looking for something!”
Chief folded his arms.
“WHAT are you looking for? Your rent receipt or your dignity?!”
The boy clapped happily.
“Daddy, I told him you were not at home…”
Chief pointed at the door.
“Pack your load. Today!”
Mr. Okeke quickly switched strategy.
“Chief, Chief… let us not do this in front of the child. Come, let’s talk man to man…”
Chief replied: “Yes, let’s talk. Outside. With your bags.”
The boy added: “Daddy, should I also tell him next time that you travelled?”
Mr. Okeke stared at him.
Long.
Deep.
Like a man questioning all his life decisions.
“My son… from today, you will no longer defend me. You will just greet visitors and go inside.”
The boy nodded proudly.
“Okay daddy… but next time hide inside wardrobe. Table is too obvious.”
Chief burst into laughter despite himself.
Even he couldn’t hold it.
“Mr. Okeke… you are lucky your son is more entertaining than your rent situation. You have till tomorrow!”
He walked away shaking his head.
Mr. Okeke collapsed on the chair.
The boy smiled.
“Daddy, did I try?”
Mr. Okeke sighed.
“You tried… to send me to the streets.”
Lessons 🤣
If you want to hide, don’t involve children… they operate on honesty + curiosity combo.
Never underestimate a landlord with patience.
And most importantly… if you’re under the table, stay under the table! 😭
