Note: I was clearing out my laptop and discovered a pidgin flash fiction story I wrote in 2017. I hope you enjoy it.
We dey stay place where the government no dey care about we. I dey talk stay but the real matter be sey we no dey stay here. Ebe survive we dey survive. Recently my uncle die from acute bronchitis. He be asthmatic wey he always dey burn tyre. I dey tell am say e no good sey e dey burn tyres. But e tell me sey e dey burn tyre everyday make the Member of Parliament for wona constituency know sey them for look sharp fix wona road. Some guy wey dey job for government tell me say e no be MP e dey fix road. He say make my uncle go talk to the District Chief Executive. I no know who be the DCE sef. As I tell my uncle e tell me sey during campaign season, ebe the MP norr wey talk say e go fix the road. So ebe ein norr them go call am make e come fix. So everyday e dey burn tyre for road take protest. E burn tyre two weeks straight. I no know how e dey get the tyres sef but everyday e dey find tyre burn.
Ebe as e start dey cough cough sekof the bronchitis wey the first truck come. E come plus sand. E drop the sand wey the MP come plus the assemblyman for wona area. Journalists too come plus camera then things. The MP promise we sey them finish pay the contractor so as for the road them go build am sharp sharp. One week later the first roller truck too come. Them start dey level the road. We dey watch them. Some people make happy. That day my uncle die for hospital so e no fit see. E pain me give am.
Them level the road for two days wey the roller lef. The contractor come the site one day pɛ. He too he lef. The sand just dey there. Three days after we hold some small funeral give my uncle, e rain heavy. As e stop dey rain , we no dey see the sand heap again.
Everything scatter. E scatter like government.