Today the last: perhaps, these words were like air to him, feeble, unbinding, but pacifying. A pleasant affirmation slipping off his guilt each time he said it, but transient, no, volatile. The statement did what an ethanol dab does to the skin; a cooling sensation that fades as fast as it comes. It was always apparent to everyone but him that it wouldn't be the last every time he said it. However, what could do the anesthetizing better? 

It was pretty worrisome to some of his friends who weren’t into what he was doing.  They wondered if he was cloaked forever or would eventually turn a new leaf. He could try, but it would be like starting all over again, like melting gold jewelry in the furnace and smithing it again. He did try to quit. But what would it cost to try one more time before he eventually stops? Of course, it's that shady thought! After all, who knows if he might just get lucky? Days having him recite his affirmation and fast turning into months. The 1st of January was his last, as much as the 29th of February would be his last in a leap year, just as all the days in between. His parents thought he needed help. He surely could use some, but to him, it wasn't as big of an issue as his parents made it seem. It was just that drive, that surface tension that helps a drop of fluid linger on a leaf margin - that obstinate hope of winning back all he had lost. He hated to admit it, but his parents were right!

The distance to the viewing center was a walkable one. He walked softly, plundering how he had used his remaining savings for gambling. He was visibly worried. His parents, whom he had banked on, told him they had nothing for him again that month. Nonetheless, he needed to stake the game for his club. He was convinced that they were going to win the match. Of course, the new changes in the club renewed the fans' hope,  and his especially. On looking up, the crowd waiting to watch the match was excited. He was thrilled. He smiled.

 Scanning through the vast crowd, he was able to spot his friend. His smile became even broader. His petite friend seemed to come towards him with a bottle of beer in his hand. It would have seemed that his friend already had two bottles of beer. You know, beer has a way of looking at you through the red eyes of the drinker. Sometimes, beer talks too, but not through the bottle. It would instead make the drinker say its words.

“Nedu, my man”  his friend hailed, walking towards him in a stylish gait - beer certainly has its working style too. They shook hands. The energy from his friend seemed to ounce towards him; if he had a half percent battery towards the game, it was full from seeing his friend. It seems beer charges by induction too.

“I Dey wait you since, hope say you don go stake? You know, say na your team dey play today”, his friend chirped. 

“You suppose know me na,” he said with pride.

“You know say I be like Mr Money, I no dey waste time,” he answered eagerly, all ready to watch the match.

“ Make we dey go, match don start” his friend beckoned.

The game's intensity made him uneasy for some time. The game was a tough one. He nearly bit off the tip of his tongue, knowing how much he staked.  It was a do-or-die affair for him. He had to bring out that religious side of him. He wasn't good with the formalities of prayer, but he asked the heavens to hear his plea. It may have seemed God heard him and perhaps granted what he desired most. His team won. The adrenaline that rushed through his bloodstream was intense. A feeling of euphoria waved through him.  He screamed.Losing his voice, knowing that he had become 800 000 Naira rich, was no problem to him. He wouldn't care anyways. What mattered most was that he wouldn’t be a leper to his family anymore—that day seemed to be the best day of his life. He loved it. 

Days after the ecstatic incident, many called him lucky. Actually, you wouldn't blame them; the win gets the buzz. His friends, and even strangers, were all over him, asking him to cook games for them. He found those requests funny. He knew that he simply got lucky. Or maybe his little prayer was answered.

The next thing that would bother our friend was what to do with the money he won. A wise decision would have been to save half and use the other half to start up something that would distract him from 'over 1.5 and 2 sure odds'.  It was a myriad of thoughts for him, but of all the ideas, he could only bring himself to play another stake. "If God decides to bless someone, he blesses them double." He was lucky last time, and he could be lucky this time again, he thought.  He liked that thought. Maybe he should stake the whole; as a matter of fact, he might be again fortunate and still roll over the win...

He heeded it.

Today the last: the hardcore saying of these words would make anyone think it could genuinely be the last. But addiction knows no last. Even worse is not accepting that you are addicted, self-deception.