She held firmly to the seat in front
of her, the same one Ocholi is
sitting on. Laibe held it so
tenaciously one may be forced to
believe someone would fall off the
car if she loosened her grip
however little. She finally decided
to drop her almost empty bag
after all. Well, Ocholi already gave
up trying to convince her that the
bag was safe whether she held it
firmly to her chest or she quietly
relieved her body muscles of so
much unnecessary work. Laibe
was not part of his problems right
now; he had a deadline to meet
up with and the persistent
repeated breakdown of this
vehicle within the last hour is
almost rubbing him of something
valuable.
“I’ll deal with Faruna when I get
to his place today!”
He murmured inaudibly anytime
the vehicle quenched on marching
the break. He took this very car
for servicing just yesterday and
was assured of perfect working
condition before he drove out of
the mechanic garage. One thing
he knew, as very much as his
name, was the constant
disappointments from all these
‘hand-workers’ as people call
them. They can be more tiring to
manage than a generator low on
petrol.
Laibe on her own side couldn’t
help but dart her eyeballs from
one side of the road to the other.
That particularly, has been
ongoing since she saw an
inscription on the carved tower
they passed underneath- ‘Ankpa
Youth Development Association
welcomes you to Ankpa’. It was at
that point she couldn’t help
wondering, whether or not there
was a policy that restricts youth
associations of towns to
inscribing words in just the same
pattern on every signboard they
made. It already became amusing
because she had lost counts of
seeing this same type of ‘welcome
address’ all the way down from
Ofabo while she tried to read
them all. The speed bumps on the
road in front of the Kogi State
College of Education, Ankpa, gave
her so much opportunity to really
capture as much image of the
large campus her retina could
accommodate, more so, that their
car seem to be tripping off
anytime Ocholi stepped on the
break. The school looked so large
to her that she marvelled,
forgetting her mouth wide open,
how people ever found their way
around without missing or getting
stolen. The expansive school
stadium that directly faced the
road had seats coloured in green
and white, another large building
she saw felt like the windows
were climbing on themselves. In
fact, everything was just too
amazing to be real. She slapped
herself for thinking like a child at
some points; her grandfather had
told her to try, as much as
possible, to reason like an adult
at all times and all situations.
That explains why, even though
she hadn’t gone farther than the
primary school she finished some
three years ago, she still
possessed a characteristic way of
behaving quite maturely.
“Eeeeeh!!” she let out an
involuntary scream when Ocholi
drove too close to a woman
crossing the road.
“É kí chokpoñ” Ocholi assured
her there was no cause to fear.
That didn’t soothe her. He was
just about hitting down a woman
with a large bowl on her head and
the best he could do was ask her
not to fear? Her heart beat fast
against its ribcage for another
uncountable number of minutes
while her neck still turned
backwards so as to enable her
eyes follow the woman well
enough, and they did, till she saw
her no more. She really was
scared. Actually, right from
infancy she dreaded the roads,
dreaded the cars, she dreaded
anything that linked in one way or
the other to an accident.
All as a result of one
unforgettable incidence.
She is even amazed at herself for
being so ecstatic about this
particular journey to Ankpa.
Perhaps, because it came like
something that would at least use
to disprove her grandfather.
The large bowl on the woman’s
head resembled that of her
mother. It looked like the one in
which the hot rice to be sold used
to be carried in, all the way down
to the market. Hopefully, her garri
business would be more profiting
now that she is in Ankpa, judging
from what her friends said, ‘Garri
is students’ power’. These
thoughts and few more made her
beam with a light smile as they
took turns to gracefully pop up in
her head. Ocholi could see this,
unknown to her, through the
mirror and he shook his head
from side to side at every
instance.
The girl already appeared as one
who would give him trouble
eventually but he was positive.
There is this unbearable wrong
combination between beauty and
stack illiteracy. Both mixed in one
another in Laibe, is so much of a
threat to him right now. Or, so he
thought.
The brown huge gate finally
opened after he had blared angrily
on the honk five consecutive
times. Most times, he wonder
what the lazy gateman is paid to
do, because, once the owners of
the house were off to work, the
only thing left of his day is to
sleep and snore till eternity.
Laibe came down, doggedly
dragging her bag alongside. She
looked at the house they just
entered, the compound was
interlocked and bright lemon
coloured flowers formed a circular
roundabout at the centre. That’s
aside the lawn extending to the
other end of the quite expansive
compound together with some tall
flowers that appeared like coconut
trees to her. She bent down to
pick up one of the cinnabar
plastic bangles that fell off her
hand during the moments of
astonishment and so decided to
feel the bare floor with her
fingers. During harmattan, the
mud sand of Ofabo solidifies so
much so that it feels like a hard
unyielding rock on touch. That is
actually the only thing she enjoys
during harmattan season because
inasmuch as everywhere looked
compacted, no one can explain
how the dust level keep getting
higher simultaneously. The
interlocked ground she just
touched, felt exactly like that mud
ground. That was also exciting
and interesting deep inside her
head. It made her think, while
getting back up, that white men
must have made these concrete
stones using their mud as raw
materials. She saw Ocholi coming
back from the big house. The
Cherry-Blossom painted duplex
appeared to her like another
house was kept on an already
existing one. Maybe that is what
she was going to do at the end of
it all; when she has gotten quite
enough money to go round, she
would let them put another house
on Baba’s, so it could become
two and as big as this.
That would be like living out her
dreams. Even as a kid, Baba
would ask her what she wanted to
be and as its norm in the village,
virtually every kid wants to
become a doctor. She had told
Baba that after becoming a
doctor, she would build ‘two
houses standing on the top of
each other’ for him, as they see in
outdated magazines and
newspapers at the only
photography shop in the village-
Uncle T fotos.
“We jefù ken” Ocholi’s voice
startled her, asking her to come
inside the house.
She didn’t see him pack out the
load in the trunk into the house
earlier, how be it that there was
nothing left in there when she
hurried over to check? Ocholi just
kept smiling at her and that really
made her more uncomfortable
than when he hugged her lightly
to say, ‘ thank you, agba o’ after
dropping the heavy stone she
picked from the bush on their
way. She can’t get used to all
these, not when she doesn’t even
know who he is in her aunt’s
house. Another thing that is
almost pissing her off right away,
is the fact that he had been
saying every statement to her in
Igala language.
“Do I look that obvious?” she
tried to question herself.
‘Obvious’ was one of her
headmistress’ most used words in
the English languathe English language and
somehow the word, and that
whole statement at large, had
stuck to her subconscious.
At least for the fact that she
attended a primary school, he
should know she understood
some things in English. Yea, some
things. Basic things.
She trudged into the house. At the
door, she felt the strong impulse
to pull off her shoes. Back home,
she must do this before entering
the rooms, any of the rooms,
especially Baba’s and that got
even worse when ‘yours truly’ la!d
a rug over the floor for him. Often
times when her legs looked neater
than the rug in Baba’s sitting
room, legality demanded she still
removed every foot wear before
entering and for the few times she
faltered that law unconsciously,
Baba had refused responBaba had refused responding to
her talks during and after she was
done pouring it all out. She felt
really stupid those times with
Baba’s eyes unblinkingly piercing
her like x-rays while she tried to
figure out what went wrong. She
would then run off to the door,
pull them off and once that is
done, Baba sits up and responds
to her. Well, she rarely make such
mistakes any longer and right
here, she actually removed a foot
off her slippers impulsively,
before Ocholi urged her to go in
with it. She didn’t argue, she
couldn’t say anything. Not as
though she had nothing to say but
then, aside from the extremely
tiresome journey, Ocholi wasn’t
the right person to start up a
conversation with in a strange
house and ultimately a strange
land. He is a total stranger for all
she cared, maybe not to this
house but to her.
Ocholi had few things going on
his mind as he headed back into
the house proper, leaving Laibe
alone in the sitting room.
Everything seem to be enticing
the young girl and the best he
could do was to smile, smile real
good but as good as that was, it
couldn’t submerge what was
bothering him.
They had an agreement. How will
he go about it now?
In this business, timing is key. It’s
true he didn’t meet up with the
stipulated time but that doesn’t
mean they would lose out of
everything altogether.
Laibe stared at her aunt’s framed
picture firmly nailed to the wall.
The frame looked so big that she
felt her aunty standing before her
in real life. But then, it was just a
frame. With the way Baba always
said her aunty was ‘very busy in
the city’, she wondered how the
woman still manages to put on
this so much weight regardless of
her tight schedule. Aunty Udale
looked so rotund with soft
palpable cheeks and her neck has
folded, in the last couple of years,
into something very similar to
different layers of textiles neatly
arranged in a show glass. The
more it folded, the more it
appeared she would need a
breathing aid soon, yet her skin
shone so bright that one could
literally see her/himself in it.
Although Laibe knew she was
very much underweight resulting
from so much stress with little
food to take in- the gross height
of malnutrition, she would
however run from every chance to
become as weighty as her aunty.
She can, most often than not at
the village, successfully go two
days only on garri.
Thankfully, she made one of the
best in the entire village and that
has saved her life a great deal.
She would spare nothing to make
sure she gets those young boys
to cultivate Baba’s farm for her to
grow cassava during rainy season
because that is the only thing that
processes into garri; her source
of livelihood.
With this so much money and
affluence, why did mother go
then? She cursed her luck silently,
haven being unable to find
answers to those questions all
along and who knows?
She may never find them, the
same way she couldn’t place if
Ocholi read her mind when he
said,
“Be sure to relax”
Wow, for the first time he would
be addressing her in English
language. That was quite fair. At
least she doesn’t get to feel like
the stack illiterate of the century
any longer.
She gave a slight nod in the
affirmative and Ocholi briskly
walked back into the same room,
at the left hand side, directly
perpendicular to her, where he
came out from. She didn’t know
what he was doing in there and
whatever it was, must be very
serious to arouse the agitation
she felt in his voice. Letting that
slide, she dragged a stool and sat
on it instead of the leather sofas.
They have always told her that it
is elders that sit on big chairs, not
kids. She would have even sat on
the Cobalt rug but she didn’t want
Ocholi to degrade her again,
seeing he had started relating
with her on ‘English terms’.
She tried to shut her eyes as she
would always do when about to
reflect and bring back memories.
She could only imagine what her
two friends were doing in the
village right now. It was about
4pm and she knew they would be
on their way to fetch firewood for
dinner. Of all her numerous
activities back at home, going to
the stream was the most exciting.
There is this rocky steep as you
descend the stream and she
enjoys more than anything else to
run down with the two jerry cans
in her wheelbarrow. Yeah! The
same wheelbarrow. It served a lot
of functions so she couldn’t
afford a bad tire any day. One of
the unforgettable memories in her
life however, was the two weeks
she spent with the local
physiotherapist who tried to fix
her broken ankle after she slid off
that steep one morning. The pain
was terrible and somewhat
unbearable especially when the
fear of losing the function of any
of her legs was her greatest call
for worry. How would she survive?
She still jerks up any time that
part of her leg hits a solid object,
even after it’s almost totally
healed now.
Home sweet home indeed.
Perhaps here would become home
away from home for her.
She couldn’t say. She didn’t know
what the future held for her here.
Though her aunt’s picture is on
the wall, she can’t be totally sure
that this is truly the house. There
is no sign of any other person in
this big house, that’s aside the
fact that the area looked very
deserted as they drove in. Like a
hideout or something. She is
never used to this kind of
settlement. In the village, homes
are built into each other in such a
way that you can pass a message
across to your neighbour by
talking out through the window, if
any. The reverse is the case here,
the fence is so tall with barbed
wires attaching to the top, the
gate looked so gigantic that she
doubts if bullet could penetrate it
and that alone was enough to
scare the living daylight out of
her. How can she be sure that
Ocholi wasn’t a hired assassin or
something even worse than that?
She opened back her eyes when
she felt someone moved behind
her. It was Ocholi again, he was
carrying something in his hand.
Laibe thought her eyes were
deceiving her when she first saw
it but by using the back of her
palm to wipe her face, she saw it
more clearly for what it is. The
young but hefty man had pulled
off the T-shirt he had on earlier
and what’s left to cover his chest
is just a singlet, white but was
beginning to turn yellow at the
armpits already. She watched him
carefully as he walked over to the
main entrance through which they
both entered the house. He was
gentle, he was slow in his steps
but steady. It’s at this point that
the racing of her heart could
compete with an aircraft trying to
beat time. She watched him with
frightful eyes as he turned down
the key in the door hole twice
before pressing down on the knob
to be sure the door was firmly
shut. She kept on looking, this
time, thick winds of helplessness
flushed over her body so much so
that she almost passed out when
he turned back and started
walking towards the direction she
sat, on the stool. The sharp, silver
edge of the knife in his hand
pointed.
@african-tales good continue