*BARBER BY FORCE* *(The Graduate Barber)* *EPISODE 2* Chukwudi woke up the next morning with a strange kind of determination—the type that usually comes after embarrassment has humbled you properly. His back was still aching from standing all day, his shoulders felt heavy, and even his legs were questioning his life decisions. But today, he told himself, things would be better. He sat up slowly, stretched his body, and winced. “Ah… this barber work no be beans o.” From his stomach came a low, threatening sound. “Grrrrrr…” He placed his hand on it gently. “Abeg behave. We never make money yet.” The stomach did not respond, but the message was clear—failure was not an option. By the time he arrived at the shop, the usual chaos had already started. Music was blasting from a small speaker, the generator was humming like it had anger issues, and two customers were already arguing about football as if they were personally on the pitch. Emeka glanced at him and smirked. “Graduate, you don ready today? Hope you no go draw another map for another customer head today?” Chukwudi forced a confident smile. “Oga, today no mistake. I don upgrade.” One of the customers laughed. “We go soon confirm that one.” Chukwudi ignored them and focused. Today, he needed redemption. His first task was to clean up and prepare the shop. This time, he was smarter. When he noticed the wind trying to misbehave again, he quickly closed one side of the shop and used his leg to block the hair from escaping. “Not today,” he muttered. One customer nodded approvingly. “You dey learn small small.” That alone boosted his confidence. Around mid-morning, his first customer arrived. A quiet man. No drama. No unnecessary talk. He Just sat down and said, “Low cut and shape up.” Chukwudi looked at Emeka. Emeka nodded slowly. “Do am.” This was it. Chukwudi picked up the clipper carefully, his heart beating faster than normal. This time, he moved slowly, paying attention to every detail. No rush. No overconfidence. Just focus. Halfway through, the customer asked, “You sabi this work so?” Chukwudi paused briefly, then said, “I dey learn… but I go try my best.” The man nodded. “Just no spoil my head.” “God forbid,” Chukwudi replied quickly. After about twenty minutes, he stepped back. “Done, sir.” The man looked into the mirror.Turned left. Turned right.Touched his hair. Then he nodded. “It’s okay.” Chukwudi almost shouted in excitement. Okay. Not terrible. Not confusing. Not a crime. Just Okay. He quickly composed himself, but inside, he was celebrating. “I don dey improve,” he whispered. Emeka looked at the haircut and nodded slightly. “You try… small.” That “small” felt like an award. But as life would have it, peace never lasts. Around noon, the shop door opened, and a man walked in with an attitude that entered before him. He wore dark sunglasses—even though the shop was not that bright—and chewed gum like he was trying to punish it. His shirt was half-buttoned, and his confidence was suspicious. Without greeting anyone, he sat down heavily. “You,” he said, pointing at Chukwudi. “Cut my hair.” Chukwudi blinked. Something about the man felt… off. Still, he nodded politely. “What style, sir?” The man leaned back. “Make it sharp. I want to look expensive.” Chukwudi hesitated slightly. That instruction alone was already confusing. “Yes, sir,” he said anyway. As he started cutting, the man began talking nonstop. “The Last barber wey touch my hair, I nearly slap am. If you mess up, I no go talk twice, I go break coke bottle for your head.” Chukwudi’s hand paused briefly. “No problem, sir.” Inside, he was already negotiating with God. The problem started when the man refused to sit still. He kept turning his head. Answering calls. Laughing loudly. Even shaking his head like someone dancing. “Sir… please face front,” Chukwudi said carefully. “Do your work,” the man replied. At one point, the man picked a call. “Guy, I dey barb… we go talk later make this boy no go spoil my head.” Chukwudi closed his eyes briefly. “This one go hard,” he thought. Despite everything, he managed to control the situation. He adjusted, corrected, and focused. Slowly, the haircut began to take shape. Not perfect. But good enough. Finally, he finished. “Done, sir,” he said. The man removed his sunglasses slowly and looked at the mirror. Silence. He turned his head left. Then right. He touched his hair. “Hmm.” Chukwudi held his breath. “It’s okay,” the man said. Relief washed over him instantly. “Thank you, sir.” That was when the problem began. The man stood up, adjusted his shirt, picked his phone, and started walking towards the door. Chukwudi blinked. “Sir… your payment. You never pay me” The man stopped. Turned slowly. “Payment?” “Yes, sir. Two thousand naira.” The man laughed. Not normal laughter. The kind that makes your spirit uncomfortable. “You’re funny,” he said. Chukwudi forced a smile. “Sir… the money.” The man stepped closer. “Do I look like somebody wey dey pay for haircut?” Chukwudi’s brain froze. “Sir… I don’t understand.” “You go understand today.” The entire shop went quiet. Even the generator seemed to reduce its noise slightly, as if it also wanted to hear what would happen next. Emeka stepped forward slowly. “Oga, no bring problem. Just pay your money make everybody rest.” The man removed his sunglasses completely. His eyes alone looked like trouble. “I said I’m not paying.” Tension filled the air. Chukwudi looked at Emeka nervously. “Oga… wetin we go do?” Emeka sighed. “Today you go learn another lesson.” The man turned and started heading for the door. That was his mistake. “LOCK THE DOOR!” Emeka shouted. Everything happened quickly. One customer rushed to block the entrance. Another stood up immediately. Even Chukwudi didn’t know when courage entered his body, but suddenly he was standing in front of the man. “Sir… you can’t go like that.” The man looked around slowly. “You people wan try me abi?” One customer replied calmly, “Nobody is trying you, they just want their money.” Another added, “This one no be free service o.” The man laughed again, but this time it sounded weaker. “You don’t know who I be.” One of the customers shrugged. “We no need to know. Just pay.” What followed was pure drama. The man started shouting. Customers started responding. Everybody had something to say. At some point, it felt like a community meeting. “Pay your bill!” “No dey form!” “This one no be government palliative!” “Even NEPA dey collect money!” The man tried to act tough, but the numbers were not in his favor. Slowly, his confidence began to reduce. Finally, he hissed loudly and dipped his hand into his pocket. “Take your money!” He threw the cash on the floor. Chukwudi quickly picked it up like someone rescuing his destiny. “Thank you, sir,” he said quickly. The man glared at everyone and stormed out of the shop. Immediately he left, the entire place exploded in laughter. “Graduate! You don see life?” one customer said. Chukwudi wiped sweat from his face. “This work no normal at all.” Emeka laughed. “You never see anything.” That evening, Chukwudi closed from work feeling slightly stronger, slightly wiser, and slightly more confused about life. But at least… he had survived again. When he entered his compound, the usual madness was waiting. Mama Bisi rushed towards him immediately. “Chukwudi! I heard something this afternoon!” He froze. “What happened?” “It was not ordinary sound!” Chukwudi sighed. “Mama… na generator.” She leaned closer. “This one no be generator. This one get meaning.” He nodded slowly. “Okay, ma.” He was too tired to argue. Just then, Kunle’s generator roared to life. “BRRRRRRRRRRRRR!” Chukwudi closed his eyes. “God… which kind Wahala be this one?.” Then came the final blow. “CHUKWUDI!” He opened his eyes slowly. His landlord stood there. “Yes, sir…” “I hear say you don dey make money now.” Chukwudi frowned. “Who told you, sir?” “I have sources.” The man stepped closer. “Your rent has increased.” Chukwudi nearly collapsed. “Increased? “Yes! You are now a businessman!” Chukwudi looked at the sky. “God… na promotion be this barber work or na punishment?” Later that night, as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he replayed the events of the day. The shouting. The drama. The victory. The stress. Then slowly… he smiled. Because somehow, through all the madness… He was growing. He turned to the wall and whispered: “Tomorrow… we go again.” 👉 To be continued in Episode 3 ❤️ Continue 😎 This is getting interesting 👍 I’m hooked 🥰 Next episode 👉 Please SHARE this story to motivate me to write more episodes > If this gets to 30 reactions and 10 shares episode 2 drops immediately
