THE UNKNOWN HANDS (EPISODE TWENTY-NINE)

STORY SERIES

…Harvesting yam requires a special skill if the yam is to come out in one piece. Besides, enough care has to be taken so that the cutlass does not pierce into the yams in the process of harvesting them. Gradually, we were making some progress as all hands were on deck. It was only later that the Chief directed one of the men to get some yams “on

fire” for us. Bameke searched for dry sticks with which he made the fire used for ‘cremating’ some yams for our consumption and shortly afterwards, returned to join us when he was sure the fire had been properly made.

From the discussions that continued soon after Bameke returned to his portion, I gathered that the two men were married. One of them, Ajibade who from all indications was the Chief’s elder son was narrating the problems he was having with one of his children. The girl was sick and simply refused to respond to treatment. His most disturbing agony was that the girl had even refused to eat anything that morning before he left home.

“She has started again?” Chief Ogunlari who had all the while kept silent asked curiously, “you can now see my point. I have advised you several times, bring her and let us go to baba Kanako at Alabidun, but you will not listen. The problem with you young men is that having taken a wife; you start to think you are mature enough to handle everything that comes your way….”

The man had obviously got angry as he spoke. The silence that followed his remark was interrupted by the appearance of a young boy, one of those who had come to me that morning for folk tales, dressed in rags and standing on the bush path some distance from where we were working. He was sent to the Chief.

“Tell her I am on my way!” he told the boy and soon after the boy had left, the chief also headed for the hut. He returned very late, when we were getting prepared to leave. He was busy attending to some visitors whom he disclosed were his in-laws to be.

The work on the yam farm continued for several weeks of my arrival and I was already used to everyone around me. In fact, I had come to see Ogodo as my own home too. One morning, we were on the yam farm as usual when we noticed the arrival of that young boy again. He came for the Chief and the man left almost immediately to answer the call. We were surprised that throughout that morning till the evening, the man did not return. We continued with our work in the hope that he would soon come back to brief us what had happened in his usual attitude. We were taken aback when the young boy showed up as the sun was just trying to go down.

“Baba said you should leave everything you are doing and follow me”, he said

The message was an unexpected one and we started to wonder what might have happened. We got our clothes on and knew waiting another minute might be dangerous. As we were approaching the village, some voices became more and more audible. At a time we could distinguish various voices of the villagers. I, for instance, heard a woman, Mama Moji blaming another for acting foolishly, taking a stranger under her roof. I also heard Aduke’s mother later making a point.

“It is not his fault. We ought to have told him that a visitor that arrives in the night receives nothing, but what-a-pity as a gift, and simply asked him to leave” she said.

“You better find a way of ejecting him before he does more harm,” another woman suggested.

At a point, I was left with no doubt that I was in trouble again. I could not imagine all these words directed at any other person but me. Or how could one explain it? Three men were standing somewhere and one of them said to another, “see this thief”, and the other responded, “So you have noticed him too”; would the third man not know he is the bone of contention? In fact, it would be too obvious, except he pretends not to know.

We met almost all the properties owned by my host packed outside and nearly all those we met were sweating. We learnt that a large sum of money being kept for Abaje’s marriage ceremony was lost and they were still looking for it. Although I was not directly accused of stealing, there were insinuations that I must have had a hand in it. One of the women drove the points home.

“Who else is guilty of today’s sudden death of an innocent child if not the witch that he carried the previous day?” she said.

Tears welled up in my eyes almost immediately. Even though I knew I wasn’t guilty in any way. I was touched by the unwarranted accusations and the fact that nobody rose to my defense. I was just pouring out my mind, that stealing would be the last thing on earth I would engage myself in. Even if I were to be a mad thief, how could I have stolen from the pot inside which I was eating when nobody had threatened or stopped me from eating? What on earth does any thief even gain from stealing? Is it not usually a case of back to square one for them, no matter the amount of wealth they gather? The room where the money was kept was even one I had never stepped in ever since I arrived at that settlement. So how could I have been responsible? Why it that people usually preferred serving me the food I did not like and why is it that the only chat offered my pig was that of slapping of buttocks? What on earth was more shameful than stealing and even if one was cursed with stealing, would it be normal to steal from his benefactor?…to be continued on Tuesday.

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