THE ILLUSIONIST’S TRAP - Episode 5 – The Tragicomic End

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🎭 THE ILLUSIONIST’S TRAP

A Tragicomedy in Five Episodes

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Episode 5 – The Tragicomic End

• Years rolled by like old danfo buses, slow and noisy, with Kazeem trapped inside a marriage that felt like life imprisonment without parole. The Great Kazimondo, once a street magician full of dreams, had become a walking proverb of regret.
• Children in the neighborhood grew up watching the daily drama of “Uncle Kazimondo and Aunty Queen Vanessa.” For them, it was free entertainment—better than Nollywood. They clapped when Vanessa shouted in her shrill voice, “My king, don’t talk to that woman again!” They laughed when she dragged him home by the ear.
• One hot afternoon, Kazeem tried to flirt with a tomato seller just to feel like a man again. Within minutes, Vanessa stormed the market, broom in hand, powder melting in the sun, screaming: “Leave my husband alone! He is mine forever!” She chased him down three streets, swinging the broom while bystanders howled with laughter.
• That night, as he lay on the floor panting, Kazeem whispered to himself: “This marriage na comedy for people, but tragedy for me.” He covered his face with his hands, wondering how he, a magician, had become the biggest joke of them all.
• At every beer parlor gathering, he turned into a living warning. “My brothers,” he’d preach to anyone who would listen, “be careful what you wish for. Not every rich woman is rich. Not every powder hides beauty. And not every magic should be performed.” His words always ended with a sigh that made the drinkers burst into fresh laughter.
• Some neighbors pitied him. “This man has suffered,” they whispered. “He only wanted to escape poverty, but poverty tied him tighter.” Others mocked him endlessly. “Na him hypnotize himself into wahala. Who send am?”
• Vanessa, meanwhile, never wavered. Every morning, she woke up, powdered her face, sprayed her cheap perfume, and smiled at him with blind devotion. “Good morning, my king. You are my everything.” Her loyalty was unbreakable, unstoppable, and suffocating.
• Sometimes, in the dead of night, Kazeem would look at her sleeping beside him and wonder: “What if this is my punishment? What if God made my magic backfire to humble me forever?” He would shiver, realizing that some curses are not sent by enemies—they are crafted by our own hands.
• The years piled up, and Kazeem aged faster than his peers. His tricks lost their shine, his name lost its fear, and his regrets grew louder. He had once dreamed of hypnotizing the world, but instead, he had hypnotized himself into sorrow.
• And so, the story of The Great Kazimondo ended not with applause or glory, but with laughter from neighbors and pity from strangers. His greatest illusion was not coins or fire—it was believing he had captured wealth. In truth, he had only chained himself to misery. The hustler-magician had finally fooled the one person he could never escape: himself.

🎭 THE END

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