THE UNKNOWN HANDS (EPISODE THREE)

STORY SERIES

...I had longed for that like other young boys but that expectation had long become a mere wishful thinking. At such age as I was therefore, there was very little any right – thinking person should have expected. But, the man was simply too brutal to understand anything. For a very long time, my body ached from the lashes I received on those occasions. In spite of everything, it was doubtful whether anyone knew my plight. When there is a strong calamity in the forest, villagers may claim ignorance. When “Ogun” is feverish and sick, it may not be easily discernible. So, just like a masquerade responsible for the discharge of an offensive odour lives to savor its flavor alone, I carried my problems all alone.

Although I could now heave a sigh of relief having found my way out of Orija Farm settlement, I still discovered that things were not easy with me anywhere. As a matter of fact, as things

Ogun is the god of Iron.

Later turned out, it had been like jumping from the cooking pot into fire out rightly.

Leaving Orija itself was not without some trouble. I had sneaked away from the farm one evening to brief members of my father’s family about the hell I was going through under my new master. I had thought that everything would be done to save me from Pa Lapite’s tyranny. I was surprised when a delegation was sent to him with the message that I should be handled with stronger iron hand. That night, the man nearly snuffed life out of me and though I knew there was no other place to lodge my complaint, I took a strong decision. Before his death, my father had tutored me to endure hardship and to keep silent in the face of oppression. I had been brought up to appreciate perseverance as a virtue. But, on my own, I had soon discovered that such perseverance could lead to one’s death. I realized that death was not far from someone in my shoes who continued to keep silent. It is true that the patient dog eats the fattest bone but that saying will only be true if such dog also avoids anything dangerous like living with a Lion. So, in spite of my early resolve to continue bearing all the pains I was passing through, I was forced to shift my ground. A hunter, on sighting an antelope, will forget his early vow to avoid spilling blood. I was sure that if I could escape in one piece, my legs would carry me somewhere, not when I had been completely broken into pieces and rendered totally useless. One night when the whole neighborhood was asleep, I took my leave.

The night was dark enough to make anyone afraid and there were terrible imaginations on my mind. Yet, I was reassured in the thought that not even a snake bite would be more deadly than all the treatments I had received. Prayerfully, I forged ahead through the thickest of darkness and as my luck would have it, I was able to arrive in a village, Alafa, that same night. I had come in contact with a hunter and some members of his family heading there. With the two lamps carried by some boys of my age, the forest was as clear as daylight. I had created some fears at my approach and the man had almost fired a shot at me before I raised an alarm.

“I am a human being like you” I shouted. They were all surprised to see me come out of such darkness. I explained to them that I lost my way in the forest and had been wandering like that for days. I told them that because I was afraid that I might be returned to the wicked man if I told them the truth.

“And you weren't afraid, a small boy like you?” the hunter asked me.

“I got used to it after a while”.

The man wanted to know where I was actually going. Having explained to him that it was Orija, he promised to show me the way there. He was however of the opinion that, it was too late that night to head there, suggesting that I should follow him to Alafa which was just a few kilometers from Orija.

“Tomorrow you can head on to your village”, he had concluded his speech.

...To be continued on Tuesday..

Story series is published every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Don’t miss it.