Ake

The Years
of Childhood

Ake
The Years
of Childhood

Wole
Soyinka

AVENTURA
The Vintage Library of Contemporary World Literature
VINTAGE BOOKS

A DIVISION OF RANDOM HOUSE

NEW YORK

Fim Avemura Books Edition, Sc:prembc:r 1983

Copyright 1981 by Wole Soyinka
All rights rerved under lmernational and
Pan-American Copyright Convemions. Published in rhe
United Scares by Random House, Inc., New York, and
simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada
limited, Toronto. Originally published in rhe Unired
Kingdom by Rex Collings Ltd., London. Published in rhe
United Stares by Random House, Inc. in 1982.
library of Congr Cataloging in Publication Dara
Soyinka, Wole.
Ake: rhe years of childhood.
I.

Soyinka, Wole-Biography-Yourh.

2. Authors, Nigerian- 20th century-Biography.

3. Nigeria -Social life and customs.
I. T ide.
[PR9387.9.S6Z462 1983)

822 [B)

83-48035

ISBN 0-394-7 2219-1

Manufactured in rhe United Scares of America

6789

DEDICATION

For Eniola (the 'Wild Ch ristian ' ) ,

and t o the memory o f ' Essay'.
A lso for Yeside, Koy<;>de and F<;>lab<;>.
who do not inhabit the memory span
of the years recounted in these pages.

I
The sprawling, undu lating terrai n is all of A ke. More than mere
loyalty to the parsonage gave birth to a puzzle, and a resentment,
that God should choose to look down on h is own pious station , the
parsonage compou nd, from the profane heights of ltoko . There was
of course the mystery of the Chief's stable with live horses near the
crest of the hill, but beyond that, this dizzying road only sheered
upwards from one noisy market to the other, look ing down across
l barapa and Ita A ke into the most secret recesses of the parsonage
itself.
On a misty day, the steep rise towards ltoko would join the sky. If
God did not actually live there, there was little dou bt that he
descended first on its crest, then took his one gigantic stride over
those babbl ing markets-which dared to sel l on Sundays-into St
Peter's Church , afterwards visiting the parsonage for tea wi th the
Canon. There was the small consolation that, in spite of the temp
tation to arrive on horseback, he never stopped first at the Chief' s ,
w h o was known t o b e a pagan; certainly t h e Chief was never seen
at a churc h service except at the ann iversaries of the A lake ' s
coronation . I nstead God strode straight i n to St Peter's for morn ing
service, paused briefly at the afternoon service, but reserved his most
formal, exotic presence for the evening service which , in his honour,
was always held in the Engl ish tongue. The organ took on a dark ,
smoky sonority at evening service, and there was no doubt that the
organ was adapting i ts normal sounds to accompany God 's own
sepulchral responses, with i ts timbre of the egungfm, to those
prayers that were offered to him.
Only the Canon 's residence could have housed the weekly Guest.
For one thing, it was the only storey-building i n the parsonage .
square and stolid as the Canon hi mself, riddled with black wooden
framed windows. BishopsCourt was also a storey-building but only
pupils lived in it, so i t was not a house. From the upper floor of the

A ncestral masquerade.

Canon 's home one almost looked the top of l t6ko straight in its
pagan eye. I t stood at the h ighest lived-in point of the parsonage,
just m issing overlook ing the gate. I ts back was turned to the world of
spi rits and ghomm ids who i n habited the thick woods and chased
home children who had wandered too deeply in them for firewood ,
mushrooms and snails. The Canon 's square, white building was a
bulwark against the menace and the siege of the wood spirits. Its rear
wal l demarcated their territory, stopped them from taking liberties
with the world of humans.
Only the school-rooms of the primary school shared this closeness
to the woods, and they were empty at night . Fenced by rough
plastered walls, by the windowless rear walls of i ts houses. by tumuli
of rocks which the giant trees tried vain ly to obscure, Ake parsonage
with i ts corrugated roofs gave off an air of fortifications. Secure
within i t , we descended or cli mbed at will into overlapping, inter
leaved planes, sheer rock-face drops, undergrowths and sudden hide
outs of cultivated fru it groves. The hibiscus was rampant . The air
hung heavy with the perfu mes of lemon leaves, guavas, mangoes,
sticky wi th the sap of boum-boum and the secretions of the rain-tree.
The school-compounds were li ned with these rain- trees with wide
spread shade fi lled branches. Needle-pines rose above the acacia and
forests of bamboos kept us permanently nervous; if monster snakes
had a choice, the bamboo clumps wou ld be their ideal habitation .
Between the left flank of the Canon ' s house and the School
playing-fields was-the Orchard. It was too varied , m uch too profuse
to be called a garden , even a frui t-garden . And there were plants and
fru its in it which made the orchard an extension of scripture classes .
church lessons or sermons. A leaf-plan t , mottled whi te-and-red was
called the Cana l i ly. As Christ was nailed to the Cross and his wounds
spurted blood, a few drops stuck to the leaves of the l i ly stigmatizing
it for ever. No one bothered to explain the cause of the abundant
white spots which also appeared on every leaf. Perhaps i t had to do
with t he washing of sins i n the blood of Christ, leaving even the most
mottled spots in a person's sou l , snow-white. There was the Passion
frui t also , born of another part of that same h istory, not however a
favourite of any of us childre n . Its lush green ski n was pleasant to
fondle in one's pal m , but it ripened into a dessicated yellow,
collapsing like the faces of the old men and women we knew. And i t
barely managed t o b e sweet , thus fail ing the infalli ble test o f a real
frui t . But the queen of the orchard was the pomegranate which grew,
2

nor so much from a seed of the stone churc h , as of the lyrical Sunday
School . For it was at the Sunday School that the real stories were told .
stories that lived in the events themselves, crossed the time-border of
Sundays or leaves of the Bible and en tered the world of fabled lands.
men and women. The pomegranate was most niggardly in
produci ng. It yielded i ts outwardly hardy fru it only once in a wh ile.
tended with patience by the thick-vei ned hands and face which
belonged to someone we only knew as Gardener. Only Gardener
cou ld be trusted to share the occasional fru it among the smal l .
dedicated band of pomegranate watchers . yet even the tin iest wedge
transported us to the i llustrated world of the Biblical Tales Retol d .
The pomegranate was the Queen o f Sheba , rebellions a n d wars, the
passion of Salome . the siege of Troy . the Praise of beauty in the Song
of Solomon . This fruit, with its stone-hearted look and feel unlocked
the cellars of A l i Baba , extracted the genie from A laddin s lamp,
plucked the strings of the harp that restored David to sanity , parted
the waters of the Nile and fi lled our parsonage with i ncense from the
dim tem ple ofJerusalem .
It grew only i n the Orchard . Gardener said . The pomegranate was
foreign to the black man's soi l . but some previous bishop. a white
man had brought the seeds and planted them in the Orchard . We
asked if it was the apple but Gardener only laughed and said No.
Nor, he added , would that apple be found on the black man's soi l .
Gardener was adj udged ignorant. I t was clear that o n l y the
pomegranate could be the apple that lost Adam and Eve the joys of
parad ise . There existed yet another fru it that was locally cal led apple,
soft yet crisp. a soft pink skin and reasonably ju icy . Before the advent
of the pomegranate it had assumed the identity of the apple that
undid the naked pair. The first taste of the pomegranate unmasked
that i m postor and took i ts place.
Swarms ot bats inhabited the fig tree, their seed -pocked droppings
would cake the stones, lawns, paths and bushes before dawn . An
evergreen tree, soft and rampant bordered the playing-field on the
side of the bookseller's compound , defying the Harmattan; it filled
the parsonage with a tireless concert of weaver- birds.
An evil thing has happened to Ake parsonage . The land is eroded ,
the lawns are bared and mystery driven from its once secretive combs.
Once . each new day opened up an unseen closure . a pocket of rocks,
a clump of bush and a colony of snai ls. The motor-hulk has not
3

moved from its staging-point where children clambered into it for

journeys to fabled places; now it is only a derelict . its eyes rusted
sockets, its dragon face collapsed with a progressive loss of teeth. The
abandoned inci nerator with its lush weeds and glisten ing snakes is
marked by a mound of mud. The surviving houses. houses which
formed the battlements of Ake parsonage are now packing cases on a
depleted landscape. fu ll of creaks. exposed and nerveless.
A nd the moods are gone . Even the open lawns and broad paths.
bordered with whi tewashed stones . li lies and lemon grass dum ps .
changed nature from season t o caso n. from weekday to Sunday and
between noon and nightfall. And the echoes off the walls in lower
Parsonage acq uired new tonalities with the seasons . changed with the
emptying of the lawns as the schools dispersed for hol idays .
If I lay across the lawn before our house. face upwards to the sky.
my head towards BishopsCou rt . each spread-out leg wou ld point to
the i nner compounds of Lower Parsonage. Half of the Anglican
Gi rls' School occupied one of these lower spaces. the other half had
taken over BishopsCourt. The lower area contained the school's
junior classrooms . a dorm itory . a mall fru it-garden of pawpaws.
guava . some bam boo and wild undergrowth. There were always
snails to be found in the rainy season . In the other lower compound
was the mission booksel ler. a shrivel led man with a serene wife on
whose ample back we al l , at one time or the other slept . or reviewed
the world . His compound became a short cut to the road that led to
Ibara . Lafenwa or lgbein and its Gram mar School over which
Ransome- Kuti presided and lived with his family. The booksel ler's
compound contai ned the only well in the parsonage; in the dry
seaso n . his place was never empty. And his soil appeared to produce
the only coconut trees.
BishopsCourt . of Upper Parsonage . is no more. Bishop Ajayi
Crowther would someti mes emerge from the duster of hydrangea
and bougainvillaea, a gnomic face with popping eyes whose formal
photograph had first stared at us from the frontispiece of his life
history. He had lived . the teacher sai d . in BishopsCourt and from
that moment, he peered out from among the creeping plants
whenever I passed by the house on an errand to our G reat Aunt . Mrs
Lijad u . BishopsCourt had become a boarding house for the gi rls'
school and an extra playground for us during the hol idays. The
Bishop sat , silently, on the bench beneath the wooden porch over
the en trance . his robes twined through and through with the
4

lengthening tendrils of the bougainvillea. I moved closer when his

eyes turned to sockets. My mind wandered then to another photo
graph in which he wore a clerical suit with waistcoat and I wondered
what he real ly kept at the end of the si lver chain t hat vanished into
the pocket. He grinned and said, Come nearer, I ' l l show you . As I
moved towards the porch he drew on the chain until he had lifted ou t
a wholly round pocket-watch that gleamed of solid silver. He pressed
a button and the l id opened , revealing, not the glass and the face
d ial but a deep cloud-filled space. Then he winked one eye , and it
fel l from his face into the bowl of the watch. He winked the other
and this joined its partner in the watc h . He snapped back the lid,
nodded again and his head went bald , his teeth disappeared and the
skin pulled backward till the wh itened cheekbones were exposed .
Then he stood up and , tucking the watch back i nto the waistcoat
pocket, moved a step towards me. I fled homewards.
BishopsCourt appeared sometimes to wan t to rival the Canon 's
house. It looked a house-boat despite its guard of whitewashed stones
and luxu riant flowers, i ts wooden fretwork frontage almost wholly
immersed in bougainvillaea. And it was shadowed also by those
omnipresent rocks from whose c lefts tal l , stout-boled trees mira
culously grew. Clouds gathered and t he rocks merged into their
accustomed grey turbulence, then the trees were carried to and fro
until they stayed suspended over BishopsCou rt. This happened only
in heavy storms. BishopsCou rt , unlike the Canon's house , d id not
actually border the rocks or the woods . The girls' playing fields
separated them and we knew that this buffer had always been there .
Obviously bishops were not inclined to chal lenge the spirits.
Only the vicars could. That Bishop Ajayi Crowther frigh tened me out
of that compound by his strange transformations only confirmed that
the Bishops , once they were dead , joined the world of spirits and
ghosts. I could not see the Canon decaying like that in fron t of my
eyes, nor the Rev J. J . who had once occupied that house, many years
before , when my mother was sti l l l ike us. J . J . Ransome-Kuti had
actually ordered back several ghomm ids in his life-time; my mother
confirmed it. She was h is grand n iece and , before she came to live at
our house , she had l ived in the Rev J .J . 's household. Her brother
Sanya also lived there and he was acknowledged by all to be an oro,
which made him at home in the woods, even at nigh t. On one
A kind of tree daemon.

occasion however, he must have gone too far.

' They had visited us before . ' she said, ' to complain. Mind you ,
they wou ldn ' t actually come i n to the compou nd, they stood far off at
the edge , where the woods ended. Their leader, the one who spoke
emitted wild sparks from a head that seemed to be an entire ball of
embers-no, I ' m m ixing up two occasions-that was the second time
when he chased us home. The first time, they had merely sent an
em issary . He was quite dark . short and swarthy . He came right to the
backyard and stood there while he ordered us to call the Reverend.
'It was as if Uncle had been expecting the visit. He came out of the
house and asked him what he wanted . We all huddled in the kit
chen , peeping ou t . '
' What was h i s voice l i ke? D i d he speak like a n egungun ? '
' I ' m com i ng to i t . Th is man , wel l , I suppose one should call h i m a
man . He wasn ' t quite human, we cou ld see that. M uch too large a
head , and he kept his eyes on the ground. So, he said he had come to
report us. They didn ' t mind our coming to the woods, even at night,
but we were to stay off any area beyond the rocks and that clump of
bam boo by the stream . '
'Wel l , what d id Uncle say ? And you haven't said what his voice
was like . '
Tinu turned her elder sister's eye o n me. ' Let M ama fin ish the
story . '
' You want to know everything. A l l righ t , h e spoke j ust like your
father. A re you satisfied ? '
I d id n o t believe that but I let i t pass. ' G o o n . What d id Grand
Uncle do?'
' He called everyone together and warned us to keep away from the
place . '
' A nd yet you wen t back ! '
' Well, you know you r Uncle Sanya. He was angry . For one thing
the best snails are on the other side of that stream . So he continued to
complain that those oro were just being selfish , and he was going to
show them who he was. Wel l , he did. A bout a week later he led us
back. And he was right you know. We gathered a ful l basket and a
half of the biggest snails you ever saw. Wel l , by this time we had all
forgotten a bout the warn ing, there was plenty of m oonlight and
anyway. I ' ve told you Sanya is an oro h imself. . . .
' But why ? He looks normal like you and us. '
' You won ' t understand yet. A nyway, he i s oro. S o with him we felt
'

quite safe . Until suddenly this sort of light. like a ball of fi re began to
glow in the distance . Even whi le it was still far we kept hearing
voices, as if a lot of people around us were grumbling the same words
together. They were saying something like. " You stubborn . stiff
necked childre n , we've warned you and warned you but you just
won ' t listen . . . . '
Wild Christian looked above our heads. frowning to recollect the
better. 'One can ' t even say, " they". I t was only this figure of fi re
that I saw and he was still very d istan t. Yet I heard him distinctly. as
if he had many mouths which were pressed against my ears. Every
moment, the fi reball loomed larger and larger. '
' What did U ncle Sanya do? Did he fight h i m ? '
' Sanya wo ni yen ? H e was the first t o break and ru n . Bo o 1 6 o y
mi . o di kftipii kftipii! No one remem bered all those fat snails. That
iwin followed us all the way to the house. Our screams had arrived
long before us and the whole household was-well, you can imagine
the turmoil. U nc le had already dashed down the stairs and was i n the
backyard . We ran past him while he went out to meet the creature.
This time that iwin actually passed the line of t he woods, he con
tinued as if he meant to chase us right into the house, you know , he
wasn ' t running, j ust pursu ing us steadi ly . ' We waited . This was it!
Wild Christian mused while we remained in suspense. Then she
breathed deeply and shook her head with a strange sadness.
'The period of faith is gone. There was faith among our early
christians, real faith, not just church-going and hymn-si nging. Faith.
lgbagb6. And it is out of that faith that real power comes . U ncle
stood there like a rock, he held out his Bible and ordered , "Go back!
Go back to that forest which is your home. Back I said, in the name
of God". H m . A nd that was it. The creature simply turned and fled,
those sparks fal l ing off faster and faster until there was j ust a faint
glow receding into the woods. ' She sighed. ' Of course . after prayers
that evening , there was the price to be pai d . Six of the best on every
one 's bac k . Sanya got twelve . And we all cut grass every day for the
next week . '
I cou ld not help feeling that the fright shou ld have sufficed as
punishment. Her eyes gazing in the direction of the square house.
"

lf you aren't moving. get out of my way'

A ' ghommid'; a wood sprite which is also believed to live i n the ground.

Wild Christian nonetheless appeared to sense what was going on in

my mind. She added . ' Faith and-Discipline. That is what made
those early bel ievers. Psheeaw! God doesn ' t make them like that any
more. When I think of that one who now occupies that house . . .
Then she appeared to recall herself to our presence. ' What are you
both sti ll sitting here for? Isn ' t it time for your evening bath?
Lawanle ! ' ' A untie' Lawanle replied ' Ma' from a distant part of the
house. Before she appeared I reminded Wild Christian . ' But you
haven ' t told us why U ncle Sanya is oro.'
She shrugged . 'He is . I saw it with my own eyes . '
We both c lamoured . ' When ? When ? '
She smi led . ' You won ' t understand . But I ' l l tel l you about i t some
other time. Or let him tell you himself next time he is here . '
' You mean you saw h i m turn into a n oro?'
Lawanle came in just then and she prepared to hand us over, ' lsn' t
it time for these chi ldren's bath ? '
I pleaded , ' No . wait Auntie Lawan le' . knowing it was a waste of
time. She had already gripped us both, one arm eac h . I shouted
back, ' Was Bishop Crowther an oro?'
Wild Christian laughed . ' What next are you goin g to ask ? Oh I
see. They have taught you about him in Sunday school have they? '
' I saw him . ' I pul led back at t h e door, forcing Lawanle t o stop. 'I
see him all the time. He comes and sits under the porch of the G i rls
School . I ' ve seen him when crossing the compound to Au ntie M rs
Lijadu . '
' A l l righ t , ' sighed Wild Christian . ' Go and have your bath.'
' He h ides among the bougainvil laea . . . . ' Lawanle dragged me
out of hearing.
Later that eveni ng, she told us the rest o( the story. On that oc
casion , Rev J.J. was away on one of his many mission tours. He
travelled a lot , on foot and on bicycle. keeping in touch with all the
branches of his diocese and spreading the Word of God . There was
frequent opposition but nothing deterred h i m . One frightening
experience occu rred in one of the vi llages in l jebu . He had been
warned not to preach on a particular day . which was the day for an
egungun outing, but he persisted and held a service . The egungun
procession passed while the service was in progress and , using his
ancestral voice . cal led on .the preacher to stop at once. disperse his
people and come out to pay obeisance. Rev J .J . ign ored h i m . The
egungun then left , taking his followers with him but . on passing the
'

main door. he tapped on it with his wand , three times . Hardly had
the last member of his procession left the church prem ises than the
building col lapsed . The walls simply fel l down and the roof disin
tegrated . Miraculously however. the walls fell ou twards while the roof
supports fell among the aisles or flew outwards-an ywhere but on
the congregation itself. Rev J .J . calmed the worsh ippers, paused in
his preach ing to render a thanksgiving prayer, then con ti nued his
sermon.
Perhaps this was what Wild Christian meant by Fa ith. And this
tended to confuse things because . after all. the egiingiin did make
the church building collapse. Wild Christian made no attempt to
explain how that happened , so that feat tended to be of the same
order of Faith which moved mountains or enabled Wild Christian to
pour ground-nut oil from a broad-rimmed bowl into an empty bottle
without spilling a drop. She had the strange habit of sighing with a
kind of rapture, crediting her steadiness of hand to Faith and
thanking God . If however the basin slipped and she lost a drop or
two, she murmured that her sins had become heavy and that she

needed to pray more.

If Rev J .J . had Faith however, he also appeared to have Stub
borness in common with our U ncle Sanya . Stu bborness was one of
the earliest sins we easi ly recognized , and no matter how much Wild
Christian tried to explain the Rev J .J . preaching on the egiingiin 's
outing day. despite warni ngs. it sounded much l ike stubborness. As
for Uncle Sanya there was no doubt about his own case; hardly did
the Rev J .J . pedal out of sight on his pastoral du ties than he was off
into the woods on one pretext or the other, and making for the very
areas which the oro had declared out of bounds. M ushrooms and
snails were the real goals, with the gathering of firewood used as the
dutiful excuse.
Even Sanya had however stopped venturing into the woods at
night, accepting the fact that it was far too risky ; daytime and early
dusk carried little danger as most wood spirits only came out at nigh t.
Mother told us that on this occasion she and Sanya had been picking
mushrooms, separated by only a few clumps of bushes. She could
hear his movements quite clearly. indeed , they took the precaution
of staying very close together.
Suddenly. she said . she heard Sanya's voice talki ng animatedly
with someone. After l istening for some time she called out his name
but he did not respond. There was no voice apart from his, yet he
9

appeared to be chatting i n friend ly, excited tones with some other

person . So she peeped through the bushes and there was Uncle SanY.a
seated on the ground chattering away to no one that she cou ld see.
She tried to penetrate the su rrou nding bushes with her gaze but the
woods remained empty except for the two of them. And then her
eyes came to rest on his basket.
It was someth ing she had observed before, she sa id. It was the
same, no matter how many of the chi ldren in the household went to
gather snai ls, berries or whatever, Sanya would spend most of the
time playing and climbing rocks and trees. He wou ld wander off by
h imself, leaving his basket anywhere. A nd yet, whenever they
prepared to return home, his basket was always ful ler than the others ' .
This time was n o differen t . She came closer, startling our U ncle wh0
snapped off his chatter and pretended to be hunting snails in the
undergrowth .
Mother said that she was fri ghtened . The basket was fi l led to the
bri m . im possibly bursting. She was also d iscouraged , so she picked
up her near empty basket and insisted that they return home at once .
She led the way but after some d istance, when she looked back,
Sanya appeared to be trying to follow her but was bei ng prevented , as
if he was being pul led back by invisi ble hands. From time to time he
wou ld snatch forward his arm and snap,
' Leave me alone. Can ' t you see I have to go home? I said I have to
go. '
She broke into a ru n and Sanya did the same. They ran all the way
home.
That evening, Sanya took ill. He broke into a sweat. tossed on his
mat all night and muttered to himself. By the fol lowing day the house
hold was thoroughly frightened . His forehead was burn ing to the touch
and no one could get a coherent word out of h i m . Finally, an elderly
woman , one of).) . 's converts, turned u p at the house on a rou tine
visit . When she learnt of Sanya' s cond i tio n , she nodded wisely and
acted like one who knew exactly what to do. Having first fou nd out
what things he last did before his illness, she summoned my mother
and questioned her. She told her everything while the old woman kept
on nodding with understand ing. Then she gave instructions:
'I want a basket of ligidi, contain i ng 50 wraps. Then prepare some
ekuru in a large bowl. Make sure the ekuru stew is prepared with
plen ty of locust bean and crayfish. I t must smell as appetizing as
possible . '
10

The children were d ispersed in various directions, some to the

market to obtain the agldi, others to beg in grinding the beans for the
amou nt of ekuru which was needed to accom pany 50 wraps of agidi.
The children's mouths watered . assu ming at once that this was to be
an appeasement feast, a saara for some offended spirits.
When all was prepared however, the old woman took everything to
Sanya' s sick- room , plus a pot of cold water and cups . locked tile door
on him and ordered everybody away.
'J ust go about your normal business and don 't go anywhere near
the room . If you want your brother to recover, do as I say . Don ' t
attempt t o speak t o h i m and don ' t peep through the keyhole. '
She locked the wi ndows too and went herself to a distant end of
the courtyard where she cou ld monitor the movements of the
children . She dozed off soon after however, so that mother and the
other children were able to glut their ears to the door and wi ndows .
even if they could not see the invalid himself. U ncle Sanya sounded
as if he was no longer alone. They heard him saying things like:
' Behave yourself. there is enough for everybody. All right you take
this, have an ex tra wrap . . . Open you r mouth . . here . . . you
don ' t have to fight over that bit. here's another piect of crayfish . . .
behave. I said . . .
A nd they would hear what sounded like the slapping of wrists, a
scrape of dishes on the ground or water slopping into a cup.
When the woman judged it was time, which was wel l after dusk.
nearly six hours after Sanya was first locked up. he went and opened
the door. There was Sanya fast asleep but , this time, very peacefully.
She touched his forehead and appeartd to be satisfied by the changt .
The household who had crowded in with her had no interest in Sanya
however. A l l they could see, with astonished faces, were the scattered
leaves of 50 wraps of agidi, with the contents gone . a large em pty dish
wh ich was earlier fi lled with ekuru, and a water-pot nearly empty.
No, there was no question abou t it, our U ncle Sanya was an oro:
Wild Christian had seen and heard proof of it many times over. His
companions were obviously the more benevolent type or he wou ld
have come to serious harm on more than one occasion . ) . ) . ' s
protecting Faith notwithstanding . Unde Sanya was very rarely with
us at this time , so we could not ask him any of the questions which
Wild Ch ristian refused co answer. When he next visited us at the
parsonage. I noticed his mange eyes which hardly ever seemed to
A n offering. food shared out as offering.

11

blink but looked straight over our heads even when he talked ro us.
But he seemed far too active to be an oro; indeed for a long time I
confused him with a local scoutmaster who was n icknamed Activity.
So I began to watch the Wolf Cubs who seemed nearest to the kind of
secret company which ou r U ncle Sanya may have kept as a child. As
their tight little faces formed circles on the lawns of A ke, building
l i ttle fi res, exchanging secret signs with haods and twigs, with stones
specially placed against one another during their jam boree, I fel t I
had detected the h idden com panions who crept in unseen through
ch inks in the door and even from the ground, right under the
aggrieved noses of Wild Christian and the other children in J .J . 's
household , and feasted on 50 wraps of agidi and a huge bowl of

ekuru.

The M ission left the parsonage j ust a vicar and his catechist; A ke was
no longer worth a bishop. But even the Vicar's 'cou rt ' is a mere shell
of i tself. The orchard has vanished , the rows of lemon grass have long
been eaten by goats. Lemon grass, the cure of fevers and headaches
an aspirin or two, a cup of hot lemon grass tea and bed . But i ts ef
fusion was really fragrant and we drank it normally as a variant of the
common tea. Stark , shrunk with time is that white square monument
which , framed against the rocks dominated the parsonage, focussing
the eye on itself as a visitor entered the parsonage gate. The master of
that house was a chun k from those rocks, black, huge. granite head
and enormous feet.
Mostly , they called him Pastor. Or Vicar, Canon , Reverend . Or,
like my mother, simply Pa Delumo. Father's choice was Canon and
this also became my own , but only because of a visit to I bara. We
made several of those outings; visit to relations, accompanying Wild
Christian on her shopping expeditions or for some other purpose
wh ich we could never grasp. A t the end of such out ings however, we
were left with a vague notion of having been taken out ro see some
thing, to experience something. We were left with exhilaration-and
of course exhaustion , since we walked most of the way. But
sometimes it was d ifficult to recall what concrete things we had seen,
what had been the purpose of our setting out , specially dressed and
neatly com bed. And with much bustle and preparation.
We had climbed a steep road and come on the i mposing en
trance-the white pillars and plaque which said : THE RESIDENCY.
Some white man clearly l ived there. the gate was patrolled by a
12

policeman in baggy shons who stared over our heads. The house
i tself was set well back up a hill , part hidden by trees. But the objects
on which my eyes were fastened were two black heavy-snouted tubes
mounted on wooden wheels. They stood against the p il lars , pointed
at us, and beside each one was a pile of round metallic balls, nearly as
big as footballs. They are guns, my mother said, they are cal led
cannons, and they are used to figh t wars.
'But why does Papa call Pa Delumo a cannon?'
She explained the difference but I had al ready found my own
answer. It was the head , Pa Delu mo's head was l ike a cannon ball ,
that was why father called him Canon. Everything abou t the guns
recalled the man's presence, h is strength and sol idity. The cannons
looked immobile, indestructible, and so did he. He seemed to over
whelm everything; when he came to visit us he filled the front room
completely. Only the parlour appeared to su i t him, once he was sunk
i n one of the armchairs he became easier to contai n. I fel t sorry for his
catechists, junior vicar or curate-his assistants seemed to have
different names also-they appeared insipid, starved parodies of
himself, so seem ingly poor i n spirit that I would later think of them
as church m ice . Of the men who came to our house wearing a round
collar, only our uncle Ransome-Kuti-whom everyone called
Daodu-matched and even exceeded his personality. Pa Delumo's
presence awed me, he dominated not merely the parsonage but A ke
i tself, and did this more effectively than Kabiyesi, our Oba at whose
feet I often saw men fal l prostrate. Occasional ly I met far more
mysterious clerics, e lusive , with their own very private awesomeness,
such as Bishop Howells who lived in retirement not far from our
house. But the Canon was the vicar of St Peter's and he fil led the
paths and lawns completely as he strode downhill to visit his flock or
deliver his boom ing sermons.
The Canon came often for d iscussions with father. Sometimes the
talk was serious, other times his laughter resou nded throughout the
house. But they never argued . Certai nly I never heard them argue
about God the way my father carried on with the bookseller or his
other friends. I t was frightening at first to hear them discuss God in
this way. The bookseller especially, with his shri l l voice and turkey
neck , he seemed to be poorly equipped , physical ly, for such flippant
statements abou t such a Power. The Canon sometimes seemed to be
that Power, so the contest, conducted though i t was ind irectly ,
seemed very unequal and risky for the bookseller. My father of course
13

I assu med to be specially invul nerable . Once. the Canon was walking
across the parsonage while they argued on something which had to
do with the birth of Christ . They spoke at the top of their voices.
someti mes all at once. The Canon was separated from them by no
fu rther than the lawn outside and I wondered. when he stopped
suddenly. if he had overheard and was about to come and rebuke
them .
But he had only stopped to talk to a l ittle boy held by the hand
by a woman, perhaps his mother. He stooped to pat him on
the head . his large mouth opened in an endless smile and the corners
of his eyes broke into wrinkles. His forehead creased -sometimes it
was difficult to tell whether he was pleased at something or he had a
sudden headache . H is jacket was far too smal l . the trousers stopped
some distance above his ank les and his round collar seemed about to
choke h i m . The broad-bri mmed clerical hat squashed his giant
figure-! glanced quickly to see if he had suddenly dimi nished in
size and was reassured by his enormous shoes wh ich . I learnt from a
cousi n . were called No-Size-in-London. I obtained a last flash of his
vast bottom before he s traightened up and the woman's hand
vanished totally from sight as he encased it in his own . These
alternations between superhuman possi bilities and ordi nary ill
fi tting clothes unsettled me. I wished he would remain constantly in
his cassock and su rplice.
Essay's favourite position in all argu ments was the devil ' s ad
vocate-he was called S . A . from his inititials , H M or Headmaster, or
Es- Ay-Sho by his more rumbustious friends. For some reason , few
called him by his own name and. for a long time. I wondered if he
had any. I t did not take long for h i m to enter my consciousness
simply as Essay . as one of those careful styl ist ic exercises in prose
which follow set rules of composi tion. are products of fastid iousness
and elegance, set down in beautiful calligraphy that would be the
envy of most copyists of any age. His despair was real that he shou ld
give birth to a son who, from the beginning . showed clearly that he
had inherited noth ing of his own handwriting. He displayed the
same elegance in his dressing. His eat ing habits were a source of
marvel to mother. who by contrast I soon named The Wild Christian.
When Essay dissected a piece of yam . weighed i t carefully . trans
ferred it to his plate , paused, turned it arou nd. sliced off a piece and
returned it to the dish , then commenced the same ritual with the
meat and stew. she would shake her head and ask .
14

' Does rhar exrra piece really marrer ? '

Essay merely smi led , proceeded r o chew methodically, slicing off
each piece of meat , yam , like a geometric exercise. lifting a scoop of
srew wirh r he edge of h is knife and plastering rhe sl ice of yam like a
master mason . He never drank between mouthfuls, nor even a sip.
Ar debate rime however. he soon grew as excitable as rhe booksel ler.
r he shri llest of r hem all with h is tiny twinkling eyes. He appeared ro
have rhe su n permanen tly beamed in his eyes . The bookseller
brought into rhe house rhar aura of gui nea-fow l . tu rkeys. sheep and
goats all of which he raised in his abundant compound . The sheep
were always being rounded up: either r he gates bad been lefr care
lessly open by a visitor or rhe stubborn animals had fou nd yer another
gap in rhe srone-and- mud walls. Th in and peppery , learher- raur
cheekbones rhrusr our restlessly, he puncru ared his d iscou rse wirh
bi rd-like gestures. Even ar his mosr aggressive his shoulders slouched .
his fi ngers refused ro release rhe cloth -cap which . outside, never lefr
his head , perhaps because he was completely bald . We cou ld rell his
laughter apart , shri l l and raspy . revealing gapped reerh which im
parted ro his face , finally, the look of an old wicker-chair.
The bookseller's wife was one of our many mothers: if we had
taken a vore on rhe quest ion . she would be in rhe forefront of all rhe
others, including o.u r real one . Wirh a bovine beau ty, jer- black skin
and inexhaustible goodness. she nevertheless pur disquieting
rhoughrs i n my head . and all because of her husband . By contrast ro
h i m , she was ample, and sometimes when rhe booksel ler disappeared
for days. I felr certai n rhar she had just swal lowed him u p . lr was wirh
great rel ief rhar I wou ld encounter his bald head bobbing about in
ani mat ion somewhere in his house or in rhe bookshop. Of all rhe
women on whose backs I was carried , none was as secu re and com
fortable as Mrs B's. lr was capacious, sofr and reassu ri n g , ir radiated
rhe same repose and kindl iness rhar we had observed in her face.
We slept ofren ar rhe bookseller's. Mrs B would send a maid ro
inform our house rhar we would ear and sleep ar r heir own house for
the night, and r har was rhar . When we gor into trou ble we ran
beh ind her and she shielded us:
' No no, I rake rhe bearing on myself.
Wild Christian rried ro reach round her wirh rhe stic k , bur there
was simply roo much of her. U nless rhe offence was particularly
serious. rhar was rhe end of rhe marrer.
Her only daughter, Bukola, was nor of our world . When we threw
15

our voices against the school walls of Lower Parsonage and listened ro
them echo from a long distance, it seemed ro me that Bukola was one
of the denizens of that other world where the voice was caught,
sieved, re-spun and cast back in diminishing copies. A mulets,
bangles, tiny rattles and dark copper-rwist rings ean hed her through
ank les , fi ngers, wrists and waisr . She knew she was abikit. The rwo
tiny cicatrices on her face were also part of the many counters ro
en ticements by her companions in the other world. Like all abikit she
was privi leged . a pan . Her parents dared not scold her for long or
earnestly.
Sudden ly her eyes would turn inwards, showing nothing but the
whites. She would do i t for our benefit whenever we asked her. Tinu
srood at a d istance ready to ru n away , somehow she expected terrible
th ings to follow . I asked Bu kola:
'Can you see when you do that with you r eyes? '
' Only darkness . '
' Do you remember anything o f the other world ? '
' No . But that i s where I g o when I fal l in a trance . '
'Can you fa l l into a trance now ? '
From h e r safe distance Tinu threatened t o report r o our parents i f I
encou raged her. Bukola merely replied that she could, but only if I
was sure I could call her back.
I was not very sure I cou ld do thar . Looking at her. I wondered how
M rs B. coped with such a supernatural being who died . was re-born ,
died aga i n and kept going and coming as often as she pleased . As we
walked , the bells on her ank lets ji ngled , driving off her companions
from the other world who pestered her incessantly , pleading that she
shou ld rejoin the m .
' Do you actua lly hear them ? '
'Often . '
' What d o they say ? '
'Simply that I should come and play with them . '
' Ha.ve n ' t they got anyone ro play with ? Why do they bother you ? '
She sh rugged . I felt resentfu l . Bukola was afrer all our own
playmate. Then I had an idea .
' Why don ' t you bring them over here ? Next time they call you .
invite them to come and play with us in our own compound . '
She shook her head . 'They can ' t d o thar . '
A child which i s born, dies. i s born again and dies i n a repetitive cycle .

16

'Why not?'
'They cannot move as we do. Just as you cannot go over there . '
She was so rare, this privi leged being who, un like Tinu and me,
and even her companions i n that other place , cou ld pass easily from
one sphere to another. I had seen her once duri ng her fainting spell,
her eyes rolled upwards, teeth tightly clenched while her body went
limp. M rs B. kept wail ing:
'Egba m i , ara e ma n tu tu ! Ara e ma ntutu ! ' desperately chafing her
limbs to bring her back to life . The bookseller ran from the shop
through the adjoining door and forced her teeth open. The maid had
already snatched a bottle from a cupboard and together some liquid
was forced down her throat . The iibiku did not immediately regain
consciousness but I cou ld tel l , after a little while, that the danger had
passed . The household grew less tense, they stretched her on the bed
and she relaxed totally, her face suffused with an unnatural beauty.
We sat beside her, Tinu and I, watching unti l she woke . Her mother
then made her drink some light fish-soup which she had busied
herself preparing while she slept. Normally we would all eat from the
same bowl but this time, M rs B. transferred some of the sou p to a
smaller pot to which she then added some thick l iquid from a bottle.
It was brackish and had a pungent smel l . While we spooned up ou r
soup from a separate bowl , M rs B . held her daughter's head back and
made her drink her own soup in one go. Bu kola evidently expected
it; she drank her potion without any complaint.
A fterwards, we went out to play. The crisis was completely over.
M rs B. however insisted that we remain within thei r compou nd. I
reminded Bu kola of t hat spell. ' Was it your other playmates who
called you then ? '
' I don ' t remember. '
' Bu t you can do it any time you want. '
' Yes, especially if my parents do something to annoy me. Or the
maid . '
'But how d o you do i t ? How do you actually do it? I know your
eyes first of all turn white . . . . '
' Do they? A l l I know is that if . . . let us say I want something, and
my mother says No. It isn ' t all the time m i nd you , but sometimes my
father and mother will deny me someth ing. So then I may hear my
other companions saying, "You see, they don ' t want you there, that
Help me. she is gening cold all over!

17

is what we 've been te ll ing you . ' ' They may say that and then I get a
feeli ng of wan ting to go away. I really want to go away. I always tell
my parents . I will go. I will go if you don ' t do so and so. If they
don ' t , I just fai nt . '
' W hat happens i f you don ' t come back. '
' But I always come back . '
It made me uneasy . M rs B . was too kind a woman to be plagued
with such an awkward child . Yet we knew she was not being cruel; an
Jhikil was that way . they cou ld not help their nature. I thought of all
the things Bukola could ask for, thi ngs which wou ld be beyond the
power of her parents to gran t .
'Suppose one day you ask something they cannot give you . Like
the A lake's motor-car. '
'They have to give me what I ask , ' she i nsisted .
' But there are th ings they don ' t have . Even a king doesn ' t have
everything.'
'The last time it happened I only asked for a saara. M y fat her
refused . He said I had one not so long ago . so I fainted. I was really
go mg .
Tinu protested , ' But one cannot have a saara every day . '
'I don ' t have a .raara every day . ' she persisted . ' A nd the saara I
asked for that time was not for me. it was for my companions. They
told me that if I cou ldn ' t come to play with them j ust yet, I should
make them .rJara. I told my mother and she agreed . but fat her
refused . ' She shrugged . 'That is what happens when the grown-ups
refuse to understand. Papa had to kill an extra fowl because it took
longer than usual for me to come back . '
Her oval . solemn face changed from in nocence t o authority as she
spoke. I watched her inten tly . wondering if she was schem i ng
another departure. Natural as it al l seemed . there was also a vague
disquiet that this was too much power for a child to wield over her
parents. I went over all the faces at the saara. the movement of food
and drinks. the sudden d isputes that rose as we ate , and the peace
making voices of the grown-ups; nothing unusual appeared to have
happened . h had been a saara like any other. We sat in groups on
mats spread out in the garden . all in outing dresses. Bukola especially
gorgeously dressed . Her eyes were deeply marked in ant imony and
her face powdered. She ate at our mat, from the sam e dish, there was
nothing ot her-wordly about her; certainly I had not seen her giving
food secretly to unseen compan ions. yet the saara was for the m .
18

I wondered sometimes if Mr B. took refuge in our house to escape

the tyranny of this child. Fond of arguments as father was , on any
subject on earth or in heaven , it was the booksel ler who usually pro
longed their d isputations far into the night. He would worry the
dead flesh of an argument with hawk-l i ke talons, conced ing a point
with the greatest reluctance , only to return to a position long d is
carded or overtaken by new arguments. Even I could tell that , and
the exaggerated patience in Essay's voice only served to confirm it.
And sometimes their arguments took frightening turns. One day
the bookseller, Fowokan the ju nior headmaster of the primary
schoo l , the catechist and one other of Essay ' s cronies followed him
home from church service. Osibo the pharmacist enjoyed sitting on
these sessions but took l ittle part in them . Their voices had long
preceded them i n to the house, they were all hotly wrapped in the
debate , talking all at once and refusing to yield a point. I t wenc on
right through bottles of warm beer and soft drinks, exhausted Wild
Christian's stock of chin-chi n and sweet biscu its and carried over into
lunch . Even as she shook her head in despair at ' these friends of you r
father' , wondering why he always managed to attract to hi mself
friends with such stomachs for arguments and food , it was obvious
that Wild Christian enjoyed the role played by the Headmaster's
house as the intel lectual watering-hole of Ake and its environs .
Towards late afternoon, tea and sandwiches or cakes refuel led their
vocal powers for the fi nal rally, for by then it was approaching the
hour of evening service and they all had to return home for a change
of clothing. It was usually at this time that Bukola's father seemed in
the greatest danger. The arguments would take a physical turn with
the bookseller, always the bookseller, about to be made the sacrificial
proof of some point of d isagreemen t . My loyalty to his wife created a
terrible d i lemma . I felt it was my duty to run and warn her that her
husband was about to be sold into slavery , banished from Abeokuta,
d ropped from an aeroplane , hurled from the chu rch tower. tied to a
tree in the dead of night alone with evil spirits, sent on an in
vestigatory mission to hell or on a peace mission to Hitler . . . always
some dangerous consequence of a going argu ment, and the only way,
they would all decide, in which it cou ld be resolved. That day, these
friends actually wanted to cut off one of Mr B 's limbs.
' A ll right , shal l I tell Joseph to sharpen the cutlass? '
The argumen c had started from that morning' s sermon . I t had
gone a hundred different ways at different times and , as usual, the
19

booksel ler's gesticulating arms had fanned the embers back to life
when every point had been exhausted . Now he seemed about to lose
the arm . Still, he fought back. He always did.
'Did I tell you that my right arm had offended me?'
A m idst laughter-and this was the strangest pan, they always
laughed-Essay called ou t to Joseph to bring the cud ass.
Mr Fowokan offered. 'Or an axe. Wh ichever is sharper. '
Mr B's hands flapped about even more desperately, ' Wait . wail.
Did I tell you that m y arm had offended me?'
' A re you now saying that you are without sin ? ' the Catechist
coun tered .
' No , bu t who is to say defi n i tely that i t was my hand which
commiued the sin? And which arm are you going w cut off, left or
right ? '
' Well . . . ' My father gave t h e maner some though . ' You are left
handed. So the probability is that your left hand com miued the sin.
Joseph ! '
' Not so fast . Let ' s go over God 's injunction again . . . if thine
right hand offendeth thee . . . note. offended thee . . . i t says
nothing about commiuing a sin. My right hand may commit a sin, or
my lef. That makes it an offence agai nst God . But that does not
mean that I am offended . God may be offended , but it is up to h im
to take whatever action he pleases . '
Essay l ooked shocked . 'You are now clai ming that an offence
against God is not to be regarded as an offence against man ? You
refuse w take God 's side against s i n ? '
Hastily, t h e bookseller reassured God . 'No , don ' t p u t words into
my mouth . I never said such a thing . . . .
With one accord they shouted, ' Good . In that case let's waste no
more time . '
Joseph had already arrived and was waiting i n the wings. My father
took the cutlass, the others seized the booksel ler.
' Wait, wait , ' the man pleaded . I turned to Tinu with whom I
eavesdropped from the corner of the parlour: 'One of us had beuer
run and fetch M rs B ' . But then she was never really i nterested in the
d iscussions , so she cou ld not see when an argu ment had to be put to a
dangerous res.
Essay tested the edge of the cu tlass with t he tip of his thumb. The
bookseller shouted : ' Bu t I tell you nei ther my left nor right hand has
offended me. '
'

20

My father sighed . 'Today is a Sunday , God's own day. I magine

you are standing before him. You are h is servant, a respected sides
man in his church at St Peter' s. You i nsist that Christ ' s inj unctions
are meant to be taken literally. A l l right, God is now asking you , has
your right hand ever offended thee? Yes or no. '
It was the son of language which frightened me even more than
the violence abou t to be visited on the bookseller. My father had the
habit of speaking as if he was on first-name terms with God. Why
should he suggest that God would come into our front-room j ust to
prosecute the bookseller! I expected any moment a Visi tation worse
than the bookseller would ever experience from this unequal contest.
Tinu sl ipped away. The crowd in the front room were laugh ing at
the booksel ler who struggled furiously , especially with his voice .
Their laughter made i t all the more wicked. Essay scraped the cutlass
along the concrete floor and advanced one step . The bookseller
suddenly wriggled free , flung open the door and escaped . Yelling
' After him! Catch him ' they all d ispersed, remembering to fling
back their thanks to Wild Christian for the Sunday feast . I dashed
through the dining-room and the backyard to our gate so I could
watch the chase through the parsonage. I t ended where the paths
separated , one towards the bookseller's compound, the other to the
parsonage gate through which the others would regain their own
homes . Their laughter rang through the compound as they waved
good-bye to one another. I did not appreciate their levity in the least,
feeling too deeply thankful that Mrs B. would not have to cope with a
one-armed husband in addition to that wi lfu l abiku.

21

II
Every morning before I woke up, Tinu was gone. She returned about
midday carrying a slate with its marker attached to i t . And she was
dressed in the same khaki uniform as the hordes of children . of
differen t sizes, who milled around the compound from morning till
afternoon , occupied in a hundred ways.
At a set hour i n the morning one of the bigger ones seized the
chain which dangled from the bel l-house. tugged at it with a motion
which gave the appearance of a dance and the bel l began pealing.
Instantly, the various jost ling, tumbling, racing and fighting pupils
rushed in different directions around the school buildi ngs. the
smaller i n size towards the schoolroom at the further end of the
compound where I could no longer see them . The bigger pupils
remained within sigh t , near the main building. They split into
several groups. each group li ned up under the watchful eye of a
teacher. When all was orderly. I saw father appear from nowhere at
the top of the steps. He made a speech to the assembly. then stood
aside. One member of the very biggest group stepped forward and
raised a song. The others took it up and they marched into the
school-building in twos, to the rhythm of the song.
The song changed every day , chosen from the constant group of
five or six. That I came to have a favourite among them was because
this was the same one which they sang with more zest than others. I
noticed that on the days when it was the turn of this tune, they
danced rather than marched. Even the teachers seemed affected , they
had an indulgent smile on thei r faces and would even point out a
pupil who on a certain charged beat i n the tune wou ld dip his
shoulders i n a most cu rious way , yet march without break ing the
rhythm. I t was an unusual song too , si nce the main song was i n
English b u t t h e chorus was sung in Yoruba: I could only catch the
words of the latter:
B ' i na njo rna j'kq
B 'ole nja. rna j<;'kq
22

Eni ebi npa, QmQ wi t i ' r

I never heard any such lively singing from the other sc hool , indeed
that group simply vanished from sig ht, yet this was where my sister
wen t . I never saw her anywhere among the marching grou p; in any
case , there was nobody her size in that sectio n . My curiosity grew
every day. She sensed this and played on i t , refusing to answer my
questions or else throwing off incomplete fragments which only fed
my cu nosny .
' I am going to school ' , I announced one day. It became a joke to
be passed from mouth to mouth , producing i nstant guffaws. Mother
appeasingly said . 'Wait till you are as old as your sister. '
The hum of voices, once the pu pils were within the bu ildi ngs,
took mysterious overtones. Through the open windows of t he school
room I saw heads in concentration , the majestic figu re of a teacher
who passed in and out of vision , mumbling incantations over the
heads of h is attentive aud ience . Different chants b roke out from
different parts of each bu ilding, sometimes there was even d i rect
singing, accompan ied by a harmon ium. When the indoor rites were
over, they came out in different groups. played games, ran races.
they spread over the compound pick ing up li tter, sweeping the
paths, cl ippi ng lawns and weed ing flower-beds. They roamed about
with hoes . cutlasses, brooms and sticks, retired into open workshop
sheds where they wove baskets, carved bits of wood and bamboo,
kneaded clay and transformed them into odd-shaped objects .
Under the anxious eyes of ' Aun tie' Lawanle, I played by myself on
the pavement of our house and observed these varied activities. The
tools of the open air were again transformed into books, exercise
books. slates , books under arm pits. in l ittle tin or wooden boxes,
books in raffia bags. tied together with string and carried on the
head , slung over shoulders in cloth pouches. Directly in front of our
home was the lawn which was used exclusively by girls from the other
school. They formed circles, chased one another i n and out of the
circles, struggled for a ball and tossed it through an iron hoop stuck
on a board . Then they also vanished into classrooms, books were pro
duced and they commenced thei r own observances of the mystery
rnes.
If the house is on fire, I must eat
If the house is being robbed , I must eat
The child who is hungry, let him speak.

23

Tinu became even more smug. My erstwhile playmate had emered

a new world and , though we sti l l played wgether, she now had a new
terrain lO draw upon . Every morning she was woken earlier than I ,
scrubbed , fed and led w school b y one o f the older chi ldren of the
house. My wys and games soon palled but the laugh ter stil l ran kled ,
so I no longer demanded that I join Tinu i n schoo l .
I nstead , I got up o n e morning a s she was being woken u p ,
demanded my bath at t h e same t i m e , ate, selened t h e clothi ng
which I thought came closest w the uniforms I had seen , and i nsisted
on being d ressed in them . I had marked down a number of books on
father's ta ble bu t did not yet remove them . I waited in the from
room. When Tinu passed through with her esco n , I let them leave
the house, waited a few momems, then seized the books I had earlier
selened and fol lowed them. Both parems were still i n the dini ng
room. I followed at a discreet d istance, so I was not noticed umil we
arrived at the infam school . I wai ted at the door , watched where Tinu
was seated , then went and c l imbed on lO the bench beside her.
Only then did Lawanle, Ti nu's escon that day, see me. She let out
a cry of alarm and asked me what I thought I was doing. I ignored
her. The teachers heard the commotion and came i nto the room. I
appeared to be everybody ' s object of fu n . They looked at me,
poimed and they held their sides , rocked forwards and backwards
with laughter. A man who appeared lO be in charge of the i nfam
section next came i n , he was also our father's friend and came often
lO the house. I recogni zed h i m , and I was pleased that he was not
laughing with the others. I nstead he swod i n from of me and asked,
' Have you come lO keep your sister company ? '
' No . I have come lO school' .
Then he looked down at the books I had plucked from father' s
table .
' Aren ' t these your father' s books?'
' Yes. I wam l O learn them . '
' Bu t you are not old enough, Wole . '
' I a m th ree years old . '
Lawanle cut i n , 'Three years old wo ? Don ' t m i nd h i m sir, h e won ' t
be three u mi l J u ly . '
' I am nearly three. A n yway , I have come lO schoo l . I have books. '
He turned lO the class-teacher and said , ' Emer h is name i n the
register. ' He then turned to me and sai d , 'Of course you need n ' t
come w school everyday-come o n l y when you feel l i ke i t . You may
24

wake up tomorrow morning and feel that you would prefer to play at
home . . . .
I looked at h i m in some astonishmen t . Not feel like coming to
school! The coloured maps, pictures and other hangi ngs on the walls,
the coloured counters, markers, slates, i nkwells in neat rou nd holes,
crayons and drawi ng-books, a shelf laden with modelled objects
animals, human beings, implements- raffia and basket-work i n
various stages of com pletion, even t h e blackboards, chalk and
duster. . . . I had yet to see a more i nviting playroom ! In add i tion , I
had made some vague, intuitive connection between school and the
piles of books with which my father appeared to commune so
religiously in the front room, and which had constantly to be
snatched from me as soon as my hands grew long enough to reach
them on the table .
' I shall come everyday' I confidently declared.
Mr Olagbaj u ' s bachelor house behi nd the school became a second
lunch-hour home . His favou rite food appeared to be the pounded
yam , iyan , at which I soon became h is keen accomplice. Through the
same iyan, I made my first close school friend, Osi k i , simply by d is
covering that he was an even more ardent lover of the pou nded yam
than either M r Olagbaju or I . It seemed a simple matter of course
that I should take him home or to M r Olagbaj u ' s whenever the meal
was iyan ; moreover, Mr Olagbaju was also teaching me to play ayo,
and this required a partner to play with. It was with some surprise
that I heard my mother remark:
'This one is going to be like his father. He bri ngs home friends at
meal- ti mes without any notice. '
I saw nothi ng to remark i n i t at all ; it was the most natu ral thing i n
t h e world to bring a friend home at h is favourite meal-time. S o Osi k i
became an inseparable companion a n d a regular feature o f t h e house,
especially on iyan days . One of the house helps composed a song on
him:
'

Osi ki oko oniyan

A ti nwa e, a ko ri e
which she began singing as soon as we appeared , hand in hand, on
A game played on a wooden board with dug-out holes, and seeds.
Osiki, lord of the pounded-yam seller
we have sought you everywhere but failed to find you .

25

the path lead ing from the school . But the pounded yam was also to
provide the fi rsr test of our friendsh ip.
There were far too many aspects of the schoolroom and the com
pound to absorb in the regular school hours, moreover. an empty
schoolroom appeared to acquire a totally different character which
changed from day to day. And so . new d iscoveries began to keep me
behind at lunch-time after everyone had gone. I began to stay longer
and longer, pausing over objects which became endowed with new
meanings. forms, even dimensions as soon as si lence descended on
the i r env i ronmen t . Sometimes I simply wandered off among the
rocks intend ing merely to climb a chal lenging su rface when no one
was around. Fi nal ly. Osiki lost patience. He would usually wait for
me at home even while Tinu had her own food. On this day however,
being perhaps more hungry than usual . Osiki decided not to wai t.
Afterwards he tried to explain that he had only meant to eat half of
the food but had been unable to stop h imself. I returned home to
encou n ter empty dishes and was just in time to see Osiki dis
appea ring behind the croton bush in the backyard . meaning no
dou bt to escape through the rear gate. I rushed through the parlour
and the front room. empty dishes in hand . h id beh i nd the door until
he came past . t hen pel ted him with the dishes. A chase followed,
with Osiki instantly in front by al most the ful l length of the school
compound wh i le I followed doggedly, inconsolable at the sight of
the increasing gap. yet u nable to make my legs emulate Osiki's pace.
Fi nal l y . I stopped . I no longer saw Osiki but-Speed , Swiftness! I
had not given any thought before then to the phenomenon of
human swiftness and Osi ki's passage through the compound seemed
little short of the magical. The effect of his dansiki which flowed l i ke
wings from h is sides also added to the il lusion of him flying over the
ground. This. more than anything else . made i t easy enough for the
quarrel to be settled by my mother. It was very difficu l t to tut oneself
off from a school friend who could fly at will from one end of the
compound to the other. Even so . some weeks elapsed before he
returned to the pounded-yam table, only to follow up his perfidy by
putting me out of school for the first time in my career.
There was a birthday party for one of the Canon ' s children . Only
the children of the parsonage were expected but I passed the secret to
Osiki and he turned up at the party in his best buba. The en tertain
ments had been set up out of doors i n front of the house. I noticed
that one of the benches was not properly placed . so t hat it acted like a
26

see-saw when we sat on it close to the two ends. I t was an obvious

idea for a game, so , with the help of some of the other children , we
carried it to an even more uneven ground , rested i ts middle leg on a
low rock outcrop and turned it into a proper see-saw. We all took
turns to ride on it.
For a long time it all went without mishap. Then Osi ki got carried
away. He was a bigger boy than I , so that I had tO exert a lot of energy
to raise h i m up, l ifti ng myself on both hands and landing with all
possible weight on my seat . Suddenly , while he was up in h is turn , it
entered his head to do the same. The result was that I was catapulted
up very sharply while he landed with such force that the leg of the
bench broke on his side. I was flung in the air, sailed over his head
and saw, for one long moment, the Canon 's square residence rushing
out to meet me.
I t was only after I had landed that I took much notice of what I had
worn tO the part y . It was a yellow silk dansiki, and I now saw with
some surprise that i t had turned a bright crimson , though not yet
entirely. But the remaining yellow was rapidly taking on the new
colour. My hair on the left side was matted with blood and dirt and ,
j ust before the afternoon was shut out and I fell asleep, I wondered if
i t was going to be possible tO squeeze the blood out of the dansiki
and pump it back through the gash which I had located beneath my
hair.
The house was sti l l and qu iet when I woke up. One moment there
had been the noise , the shouts and laughter and the bum py ride of
the see-saw, now silence and sem i-darkness and the familiar walls of
mother's bedroom . Despite mishaps, I reflected that there was some
thing to be said for birthdays and began tO look forward to m ine. My
only worry now was whether I would have recovered sufficiently to go
to school and invite all my fri ends. Sending Tinu seemed a risky
business, she m ight choose to i nvite all her friends and pack my
birthday with girls I hardly even knew or played with. Then there was
another worry. I had noticed that some of the pupils had been kept
back i n my earlier class and were stil l going through the same lessons
as we had all learnt during my first year in school . I developed a fear
that if I remained too long at home, I would also be sent back to join
them . When I thought again of all the blood I had lost , it seemed to
me that I m ight actually be bed-ridden for the rest of the year. Every
thing depended on whether or not the blood on my dansiki had been
saved up and restored to my head . I raised it now and turned towards
27

the m irror: it was difficult ro tell because of the heavy bandage bur , I
felt quire certain that my head had nor shrunk ro any alarming
degree .
The bedroom door opened and mother peeped i n . Seeing m e
awake she en tered , and was followed in b y father. When I asked for
Osiki , she gave me a pecu liar look and turned ro say something ro
father. I was not roo sure , bur it sounded as if she wanted father to
tell Osiki that killing me was not going ro guarantee him my share of
iyan . I studied their faces intently as they asked me how I fel t , if I had
a headache or a fever and if I would like some tea. Neither would
touch on the crucial question . so finally I decided ro put an end to
my suspense. I asked them what they had done with my dansiki.
' I t ' s going to be washed , ' mother said , and began ro crush a half
tablet in a spoon for me ro rake.
' What did you do with the blood ? '
S h e stopped , they looked a t each other. Father frowned a little and
reached forward ro place his hand on my forehead . I shook my head
anxiously. ignoring the throb of pain this provoked .
' Have you washed it away?' I persisted .
Again they looked at each other. Mother seemed about to speak
bur fel l silent as my father raised h is hand and sat on the bed , close ro
my head . Keeping his eyes on me he drew out a lon g , ' No-o-o-o-o . '
I sank back i n rel ief. ' Because , you see, you must n ' t . I t wouldn't
matter if I had merely cut my hand or stu bbed m y toe or something
like that-not m uch blood comes out when that happens. But I saw
this one , it was roo much . A nd it comes from my head. So you must
squeeze it out and pump it back into my head . That way I can go
back to school at once . '
M y father nodded agreement. sm iling. ' How did you know that
was the right thing to do?'
I "looked at h i m in some surprise , ' Bu t everybody knows . '
Then h e wagged his finger a t m e , ' Ah-ha, but what you don ' t
know i s that we have already done i t . It's all back i n there, while you
were asleep. I used Dipo ' s feeding-bottle to pour it bac k . '
I was satisfied . T i l b e ready for school tomorrow' I announced.
I was kept home another t h ree days. I resumed classes with my
head still swathed in a bandage and proceeded to inform my
favourite classmates that the next important event i n the parsonage
was going to be my birthday , still some months away. Birthdays were
not new. I had shared one with Ti nu the previous year and even little
28

Dipo had had h is first year of existence confirmed a few weeks before
the fatefu l one at the Canon ' s house. But now, with the daily dress
ing of my head prolonging the aura of the last , the Birthday acqu ired
a new status, a special and personal significance wh ich I assu med was
recognized by everyone. I ndeed I thought that this was a routine
knowledge into wh ich one entered in the normal way of growi ng up.
Understanding the function i ng of the calendar became part of the
order of birthdays and I dutifu l ly watched Essay cancel one date after
the other on the I BUKUN OLU STORES 1 938 Al manac al ias The
Blessed Jacob. the alias of which was printed . for some reason , in a
slanting form , rather l ike my father's handwriting.
A l l was ready o n the thi rteenth ofJuly. I headed home after school
with about a dozen of the favoured friends, led by Osiki . They all
stacked their slates in the front room and took over the parlour. On
the faces of the guests. everyone on h is best behaviour . was a keen
anticipation of food and drinks. of some music from the gramophone
and games and excitement. Now that they were home, I became a
little uncertain of my role as celebrant and host: sti l l . I took my place
among the others and awaited the parade of good things.
We had settled down for a while before I noticed the silence of the
house . Essay was still at school , mother was obviously at her shop
with Dipo who would probably be strapped to the back of A untie
Lawan le. But where were the others? Come to think of it I had ex
pected mother to be home to welcome my friends even if she had to
go back to the shop to attend to her customers. It occu rred to me also
that Tinu had not come home at all, perhaps she went straight to the
shop-she was considered old enough by now to do this on her own .
That looked promising; any moment now I expected our mother to
rush through the doors. making u p for the delay with all sons of
unexpected deligh ts .
I went out to the backyard , expecting to find at least one of our
cousins or detect signs of preparations for the Birthday . There was
nobody . The kitchen was empty and there was no aroma from recent
cooking. I called out, announc ing that I was home with guests and
where was everybody? Real ly puzzled now, I returned co the dining
room , inspected the cupboards. the table-beyond the usual items
there was nothing at all. no j ars of chin-chin , no akara, no glasses or
mugs obviouly set aside, no pan-cakes. jollof rice . . . t here was
simply nothing out of the ordinary. This was not how Birthdays
normally behaved but . there did not seem co be any cause for alarm .
29

I checked the date on l bukun Olu Stores once more , satisfied myself
that there was no mistake. then settled down with my guests to wait
for Birthday to happen .
M y mother rushed in nor long afterwards. D i po st rapped to her
back, A u ntie Lawanle and others following, carrying the usual
assorted items wh ich accompanied them to the shop every morn ing.
This was im pressive because it meant that the shop had been closed
for the day and it was still early afternoon-obviously Birthday was
really about to happen in earnest . But she came in shaking her head
and cast ing up her eyes in a rather st range manner. She stopped in
the parlour. took a long look at my friends, looked at me agai n ,
shook her head repeatedly and passed through t o the ki tchen from
where I heard her giving rapid orders to the welcome ring of pots and
pans and the creak of the kitchen door. I nodded with sat isfaction to
the guests and assured the m .
'The Bi rthday is beginning t o come . '
A moment later Tinu came i n to say I was wanted by mother i n the
kitchen . I found her with her arms elbow deep in flour which she was
kneading as if possessed . Without taking her eye off the dough she
began .
' Now Wole, tell me, what have your friends com e for? '
I r was a strange quest ion but I replied , ' We ' ve come to ear
Birthday . '
' You came to ear Birthday' she repeated . For some reaso n ,
Lawanle a n d t h e others had already bu rst o u r laughing. Mother
con ti nued , ' Do you real ize that you and you r friends would still be
sirring in that parlou r, wai ting to "eat you r birthday" if Tinu had n ' t
come and told m e ? '
' B u t today i s my birthday' I poin ted out r o her.
Patiently she explained , ' No one is denying that . I had plan ned to
cook something special tonight bur . . . look, you j ust don 't invite
people home without len ing us know . How was I to know you were
bringing friends? Now look at us rush ing around, your friends have
been sirring there , nearly starvi ng to deat h , and you say you ' ve
brought them to ear birthday. You see, you have to let people
know . . .
The Bi rthday proved to be all that was expected once i t had got
over the one disappointing limitation-Birthday did not j ust happen
bur needed to be reminded to happen . That aspect of irs character
bothered me for a while, it was a shortcoming for which I tried to
. '

30

find excuses, without success. The Birthday lost a lot in stat ure after
this, almost as if it had slid down from the rais.:d end of that fateful
see-saw to the lower end and landed in a heap , among other
humdrum i ncidents in the parsonage . Sti l l , it had added the calendar
to my repertoi re of knowledge. When it came to my turn to entertain
the gathering, I sang:
Ogbon 'jo ni September
A p ri i , June ati November
February ni meji din l' ogbon
A won iyoku le okan l'ogbon
The others took it up, Osiki supplying a ko-ko-ti-ko- ko . . . ko-ko- ti
ko-ko beat on the table so fluently that my mother asked him
jokingly if he had been drum m i ng for the masqueraders. To every
body's surprise he said, Yes . Their agbole . he revealed , even
possessed i ts own mask which paraded the town with others at the
yearly festival of the egungun . When Osik i p romised to lead their
egungun on a visit to our house at the next festival, I could not help
feel ing that the B irthday had more than made up for its earl ier short
coming. I had watched them before over the wall of the backyard ,
seated on Joseph ' s shoulders. I knew that the egungun were spirits of
the dead . They spoke in guttural voices and were to be feared even
more than kidnappers. And yet I had noticed that many of them
were also p layfu l and would joke with children . I had very nearly
been startled off Joseph's shoulders once when one of them passed
directly beneath the wal l , looked up and waved , calling out in the
fami l iar throaty m anner,
'Nie o , omo Tisa Agba. '
But Joseph explained that it was only natural that the dead shou ld
know all about the livi ng ones. A fter all, they once lived like us and
that friendly one might even have been in the compound before.
Now, discovering that Osiki had an egungun which emerged from
their compound every year was almost the same as if we also had one
of our own. We crowded round him and I asked if h e knew which of
his dead ancestors it was .
He shook his head . ' I only know it is one of our ancient people. '
' Are you actually there when he emerges from the bottom of the
earth ? '

Family compound.
' Greetings, son of the Senior Teacher.

31

He nodded yes . ' A ny of us can watch . As long as you are male of

cou rse . Women must n ' t come near. '
'Then you must come and call me the next time' I sai d . ' I want to
watch . '
' You want to what ? ' It was mother. her voice raised i n alarm . ' Did
I hear you say you want to go and watch egungun i n his compound ? '
'Osiki will take me' I said.
'Osiki is taking you nowhere. Better not even let your father hear
you . '
'Why not ? ' I said. ' he can come too . Osiki . we can take him can ' t
w e ? He i s not like Mama . h e i s a man too . '
My mother gave a sig h . shook her head and left us to I isten to
Osiki's tales of the different kinds of egungun . the dangerous ones
with bad charms who could strike a man with epilepsy and worse ,
the violent ones who had to be restra ined with powerful ropes, the
opidan with their magical tricks. They wou ld transform themselves
into alligators, snakes, tigers and rams and turn back again i n to
egungun . Then there were the acrobats-! had seen t hose myself over
the wal l . performing in a circle of spectators near the cenotaph. They
did forward and backward somersaults, doubled up their l i m bs in
the strangest manner, squeezed their lower trunks into mortars and
then bounced up and down in the mortar along shon distances as if
they were doing a mortar race . Apart from Giro , the crippled con
tortionist to whose performance we had once been taken in the palace
compou nd, only these egungun appeared to be able to t ie up their
limbs i n any manner they p leased .
' Can I come back as an egungun if I die ? ' I asked Osik i .
' I don ' t think so' h e said. ' I ' ve never heard o f a n y Christian
becoming an egungun. '
' Do they speak English in the egungun worl d ? ' I now wanted to
know.
Osiki shrugged. 'I don ' t know. Our own egungun doesn 't speak
English . '
I t seemed importan r to find out. The srained-glass windows
beh ind the altar of Sr Peter's church displayed the figu res of th ree
white men, dressed i n robes which were very dearly egungun robes.
Their faces were exposed, which was very unl ike our own egungun ,
but I felt that this was something peculiar to the country from which
those wh i te people came . After all . Osiki had expl ained that there
were many d ifferent kinds of egungun. I sought his opinion on the
32

th ree figures only to have Tinu interrupt.

'They are not egilngiln ' she said , ' those are pictures of two
m issionaries and one of St Peter h imself. '
'Then why are they wearing dresses like egilngun ? '
'They are Christians, not masqueraders. Just let M ama hear you . '
'They are dead aren' t they; They've become egilngiln, that is why
they are wearing those robes. Let' s ask Osiki . '
Osiki con tinued t o look uncertain. ' I still haven't heard of any
Christian becoming egilngiln. I 've never heard of i t . ' Then he
suddenly brightened . ' Wait a m i nute, I 've just remembered. My
father told me that some years ago, they carried the egilngiln of an
ajele, you know, the District Officer who was here before. '
I rounded on Tinu triumphantly. ' You see. Now I can speak to
those egilngiln in the church window whenever they come. I am sure
they only speak English . '
' You don ' t know what you are talking about . You are just a child . '
She turned scornfully away and left u s alone.
'Don ' t mind her' I told Osiki. ' She knows I 've always liked the
one i n the m iddle, the St Peter. I ' ve told her before that he is my
special egilngiln. If I come first to your compound, perhaps we can
go next to the church cemetery and make him come out of the
ground in the same way . '
' With his face bared like that ? ' Osiki sounded scandal ized .
'Of course not ' I assured him. 'That is only his picture. When he
comes out of the ground he will be properly dressed . And I ' I I be able
to talk to h im . '
Osiki looked troubled . ' I don ' t know. I don ' t real ly know if h e will
be a real egilngiln. '
' But you ' ve j ust said that the egilngiln of the District Officer came
out in procession before . '
' It i s not the same thing . . . . ' Osi ki tried t o explain , but finally
admitted that he did not really understand. Somehow, it was not
going to be possible but, why it should be that way, he didn ' t know.
I reminded h i m that the D istrict Officer was both white and
Christian , that St Peter's had the advantage because he was near a
cemetery. In addition , anyone with eyes could see that he was already
in his egungun robes, which meant that he had joined in such
festivals before . Osi ki continued to be undecided, to my intense
d isappointmen t . Without his experience, I did not even know how to
begin to bring out egilngiln St Peter without whom , from then on,
33

the parade of ancestral masqu erades at A ke would always seem

incom plete.
When I again lay bleed ing on the lawns of the infant schoo l . barely
a year later. I tried to see mysel f as a one-eyed masquerade. led by
Os iki along the paths of the parsonage to visit my old home and
surprise Tinu and Dipo by call ing out their names . The accident
occurred d uring a grass-cutting session by the bigger boys. The rest of
us simply pl.1>ed around the school grounds or went home for the rest
of the day . Osi ki should have been cutting g rass with the others but
he had become my unofficial guard ian . taking me home or to Mr
Olagbaj u ' s house after school or fetching me from home. as if ! had
not wal ked to school all by myself nearly two years before . On that
afternoon we were playing together. he chasing me round and round
th(' infant school building. I was already developing a sense of speed .
noth ing to match h i s . but could dodge faster than he cou ld turn
whenever his arms reached out to grab me. I had j ust rounded the
corner of the schoolroom when I saw. through the corner of my eye .
the upward fl ash of a blad e . Beneath it was a crouching form , its back
tUrn('d towards me. That was all I had time to see. The next instant I
felt the blade bite deep into the corner of my eye , the day was
blotted out in a fl ush of redness and I col lapsed forward on my face .
bl inded . I heard screams from everywhere. When I rolled over and
put my hands to mr face thev were i nstan tly drenched in the same
warm thick flood which had accompanied m y somersaul t i n the
Canon ' s garden.
I lay st ill . unaware of any pai n . M y only thought was that if I did
not remain like that, on my back, my eye would fall out on to the
g round Then I thoug ht perhaps I would actually die this time; since
I had obviously lost an eye . I tried to recall if I had ever seen a one
eyed masquerade among the egungun whom we watched over the
wal l . There were sounds of heavier feet ru nning towards me. I
recogni zed the voices of teachers. felt m yself raised up and carried
in to the schoolroom . then laid on a table. I heard Mr Olagbaju send
someone to fetch my fat her.
Through the noise and confusion I gathered that I had run straight
in to the upward stroke of a cut lass wielded by a pu p i l who was busy
cutting grass . h is back turned to m e . I heard the confused boy cal ling
on God to save him from the stigma of becoming a murderer i n his
lifetime. One of the teachers told him to shut u p and eventually
pushed h i m out . When I heard my father's voice , it occurred to me to
34

open the undamaged eye-1 had not, until then , acted on the fact
that I was only hit in one eye , not both . Wiping the blood from the
left eye . I blin ked it open. Standing round the table was a sem i-circle
of teachers, looking at me as if I was already a masquerade, the
op idan type, about to transform hi mself into something else. I
touched myself to ensure that this had not already happened , so
strangely watchful were all the pairs of eyes.
' How did it happen ? ' my father demanded even as he examined
the wound. A babble of voices rose in explanation .
I asked him, ' A m I blind ? '
Everyone shouted a t once . ' Keep still. Wole. Don ' t move ! '
I repeated m y question , feeling now that I was not dying but
wondering if I would be obl iged to become a beggar l ike those blind
men who sometimes came into the parsonage , led by a small child ,
sometimes no bigger than I . h occurred to me then that I h ad never
seen a small child leading a blind child .
Someone asked . 'Where is that Osiki ? '
Bur Osiki was gone. Osi ki . when I was muck down , had simply
continued running in the direction which he was facing at the rime .
He ran , I was sure, at a speed which surpassed even his usual
phenomenal swiftness. Some of the bigger boys had tried to catch
hi m-why, I did not know-but Osiki outstripped them run ning
lean and light in the wind . I could see him , and the sight brought a
smile to my face. I t also made me open the injured eye and , to my
surprise, I could see with it. There were loud gasps from the anxious
faces who now crowded closer to see for themselves. The skin was split
right into the corner of the eye but the eyeball itself was unscathed.
Even the bleeding appeared to have stopped . I heard one teacher
breathe ' Impossible! ' while another shouted , 'Oiorun ku ise! ' . My

father simply stood back and stared , his mouth agape in d isbel ief.
And then I felt very t ired , a mist appeared to cover my eyes. and I
fell asleep.

God's work b praisd!

35

III
I could not climb t he ladder by myself, but I already knew where it
was. Simply by following the rush of feet, I knew where to go
whenever the sounds from an event carried into the house of A ke. It
was an i ron ladder and someti mes four or five of the household
would stand on it at once gazing out , throwing off comments on the
event . They ignored my efforts to come on the ladder with them ,
claiming it was dangerous.
Then one day Joseph relented and hoisted me up on his shoulders
and I obtained my first look over the wall of our yard . I followed the
group of dancers from the road which went past the cenotaph .
beh ind the church , then d isappeared in the d irenion , Joseph said, of
the palace . I had recogn ized the church and the cenotaph. I had also
recogn ized another feature of the landscape. and this was the large
gate of the parsonage itself. I understood then that the outer wal ls of
the parsonage were joined continuously, giving way in places to gates
or wi ndows. Seated on Joseph 's shou lder, I traced the wall against
which our bodies were p ressed leftwards, saw it melt into the wall of
the storeroom where the pots-both for cooking and for father's
gardening-were kept , then vanish into the wall of the barn for
firewood and chicken , after which it became the wall of a small recess
which served as father's garden nursery , then the wal l of the
bathroo m , and fi nally the kitchen. From there it moved to encase the
catech ist ' s compound, wrapped round the rest of his house, then
changed ' back into a plain wal l until it was broken i nto by the par
sonage gate. It then ran i nto the wall of the lower Gi rls' School
before sheering off at the corner into the frontage of the bookshop ,
the only building i n the parsonage which faced outwards o n t o the
street.
A long the way , there were a few windows here and there , token
ventilations, set high in the wal l , almost against the i ron sheet roof.
Mostly however, the walls ran smoothly, varied i n places by over
flowi ng banana leaves, guava, or the bi tter-leaf plant such as the
l uxuriant one whose leaves brushed my face at that moment . It
36

became clear then that we in the parsonage were l iving i n a separate

town by ourselves. and that A ke was the rest of what I could see. That
other town, Ake, was l inked by rusted roofs just as ours was joi ned by
walls. Only special buildings like the church or the cenotaph stood by
themselves. Everything else was joined in one continuous seam .
And so the next time that the sounds came, I did not bother to
contest a place on the ladder, which I coul d not climb anyway. I had
recognized now where that gate was , through which I passed on the
way to church , clutch ing Lawanle's, Joseph 's or M ama's hand . I had
realized also that one would obtai n a much clearer view simply by
going outside the gates and watching from there . On reach ing the
gate , I was surprised to find i t latched; i t was even more annoying
that I could not reach the wooden peg which would release the latch .
Then I heard excited voices on the outside , obviously there were
others before me who had the same idea. I banged on the gate and
someone opened it.
They were all strangers. I had seen none of the faces before . I
wondered if they were passers-by who had climbed the steps leading
up to t he gate for an even clearer view. I thought they looked at me
in some rather u ncertain way, but , they made way for me to come to
the front and we ignored each other's presence at the sight of the
police band, the cause of the excitement. They had on bright sashes,
bright red fez caps with dangling tassels and what looked l i ke em
broidered waistcoats. The drum which was strapped to the man in
front was unbelievable in i ts size; at every step I expected him to
topple over, but he pounded its whi te skin with complete mastery,
his gaze set rigidly to the front. His arms made flourishes in the air,
giving the heavy-ended drumsticks a twirl , then dash ing them
against the sides. The man in the lead j uggled an enormous mace,
threw i t in the ai r, spun around and caught it as it descended . Once ,
he even caught it backwards, earning a roar from the crowd . A
gleaming brass funnel rose between the players; the face which blew
into it looked as if it would burst. It gave off notes which were nearly
as deep as the big drum but the strain on the player's face far ex
ceeded that of the d rummers.
I had a strange sensation . Each time the big drum was h i t , i t
seemed that the vibrations entered my stomach, echoed around its
walls, then went out again to re-join the drum . I listened and felt
each time the boom came and I was left i n no doubt about it; ob
viously it was the way of the big drum, I had no doubt that it affected
37

everyone the same way . I noticeci little boys fol lowing the band. some
walked d i rectly behind, i mitating the march of the policemen ,
others walked alongside . a t the extreme edges of the road . They
seemed not much bigger than I , and I soon joined them. Unlike the
strangers at the gate. none of t hem seemed to not ice me. I stayed
with the group at the back, taking care however not to mimic the
swagger of the others. It did not seem a decorous thing to do and the
policemen looked stern enough to take offence .
We marched past the bookshop and I felt vindicated. The fron tage
was exactly where I had gauged it wh ile seated on Joseph's shoulder.
But then the curious thing happened ; after the bookseller's, the wal l
rolled away into a different area I had never seen before . Soon it
moved away altogether, was covered u p by houses and shops and
disappeared for ever. It u pset my previous understand ing of the close
relat ionship between the parsonage and A k e . I expected the wall to
be everywhere ; by now I should have been on the outside of the walls
of the school playi ng fields. the roofs of the primary school should
be visible, t hen the infant, the corn-field of the school farms and
perhaps the cemetery . None of this happened . I nstead there were
shops and storey-bui ldings. And there were inscriptions everywhere:
A K I NS PHOTO STUD I O : LONDON TR A I NED PORTR A ITI ST,
t hen , in smaller lett ers : A Trial W i l l Convi n ce You . Photos l i ned
t h e t wo

halves o f the

open

door o f the

studio,

w h i l e t he

photographer h i mself sat outside on a bench w i t h crossed legs , a

. carf arou nd h i s neck , s m o k i n g a pipe. I recognized him because
he had been in our house before to t a k e photographs o f Dipo
when he was bor n . I t h ought t h at photographers did all t heir work
i n people ' s homes and was surpr i sed t o di scover t h at t hey also ran
t heir own shops.
I made a note t o start lear n i n g how t o ride a bicycle as we
marched past a bicycle h i rer , busy mendi ng a t u be . A learner
whose feet barel y touched t he pedals was just t a k i ng o ff. sup
ported by a t eacher who was no bigger but who appeared very full
o f i nstructions. The parsonage wall had vanished for ever but i t
no longer mat tered . Those t o k e n b i t s a n d pieces o f Ake w h i c h had
entered our home on occasions, or which gave off hints of thei r
nature in those Sunday encoun ters at chu rch , were begi nning to
emerge in t heir proper shapes and sizes.
Every week , someti mes more o ften , Lawanle or J oseph wou ld
go o ff wit h a large basin o f corn and ret u r n with i t crushed , a layer

38

of water over i t . Then would begin a series of operat ions w i t h

calabashes, strai ners, bas kets a n d huge pot s . I t ended w i t h t hose
pots bei ng placed in a dark corner o f the k i t chen , covered . As t he
days passed t hey would give off an ever ripening smell of fer
mentat ion . A week would pass and a fter several t es t s , t a s t i n g and
sni ffi ng, one pot would emerge from the dark nes s , a n d from it
was scooped t h e smooth w h i t e paste which i n t u r n was st irred in
hot water t o provide t h e morning ogi. a neutral mixture which
everyone seemed to enjoy but I. The akara ' which wen t with it, the
jogi, moinmoin ' or leki' was a d ifferent matter. My mouth was
watering even as I thought of i t . But I could not understand how ogi
wh ich took so m uch mysterious labour, could appeal to any taste .
Now I saw that the labour involved was even much greater than I
knew, wh ich only made matters worse for ogi. in my estimate of its
pretensions. We were passing by a small shop in wh ich a machine
whi rled , propel ling a belt with enough noise to match the music of
the police band. A cluster of women waited by the door with their
corn-filled basins and I realized that this was where Joseph o r Lawanle
came on those weekly excursions. There was a basin placed under a
wide funnel which opened downwards. Suddenly the thitish
m ixture was flushed through into the basin . of the same coarse mix
that Lawan le would bring home. Then they would all commence the
task of refi n ing it and leaving it for some days to settle. Mother loved
the 'omi 'kan , the sour, fermented l iquid which formed at the top
after its period of rest . It had some curative powers, she c laimed , a
suggestion which I found unappealing. Medicine and food led
separate lives and should never be mixed up.
The starched , cowled , white lady who visited us sometimes with
bags of lozenges apparently also lived in a compound . For there,
boldly etched on the gates in a stone-fenced wall were the words: M i ss
McCutter's Maternity Clinic. This was the first word that day to give
me any trouble. We knew her simply as M iss Makota, and there had
been no previous hint that her name might be spelt differently.
Nevertheless the ' Materni ty Clinic' left me i n no doubt that this was
where the lady lived . I wondered if I should surprise her with a visi t ,
bu t decided against i t , fearful that I might n o t b e able t o catch up
with the band .
Once or twice I did wonder if I was not bei ng carried too far from
Delicacies made from black-eyed beans.

39

home. There was however the reassurance that one pan of my ob

servation about the town remained intact-the houses remained
linked together. We encoun tered more and more houses which stood
on their own , like the ch urch and the cenotaph, but they continued
to be l i n ked , if not along the roofs , then by the fences which
surrounded them . At one point or the other, they touched . Why this
should prove so reassuring, I did not know , but I continued to feel
much at home with every step.
We came on the police station not far from McCuner's and I
expected the band to stop there . They did not even glance in the
direction of the station but marched straight past . tru mpets blaring
and the trombones flash ing in the sun . The com position of the group
of children around me appeared to change all the time. Suddenly
one face or group disappeared, only to be replaced by a new crop
wh ich surfaced along the way , as if by pre-arrangemen t . It crossed my
mind that I was perhaps depriving someone of h is place in the
procession by remaining, but no one said anyth ing; on the contrary
every face appeared wrapped up in the m usic , the march ing, in
simply enjoying themselves. I marched along with the rest .
Near the first road-junction we came to yet another sign over wh ich
I pored . It read: MRS T. BANJOKO. LONDON-TR A I NED
SEWING M I STRESS . I looked for 'A Trial Will Convince You ' in
vai n . I n its place was an invi tat ion to 'Enquire Within for the
Proprietress , Banjoko Sewing Academy' . It seemed unnecessary to
enquire ' within ' , si nce the sewing school was taking pl ace right
before us, on the pavement. The girls all wore un iforms of blue,
shapeless dresses wh ich made me think that the first task of the
pupils was to sew their own dresses before they learnt how . Mama
made dresses for us, and I could not remember seeing anything so
shapeless on Ti nu. The lady who sat at the machine appeared to fi t
the role of the Proprietress. at whose meaning I could only guess. I
had not encountered such a difficult word before and I made a note
to ask my father how it differed from the simpler one of a school
m istress.
There were quite a number of them . The proprietress had her back
stolidly turned on the passing excitement and the girls sensed that
they were obliged to do the same. Just the same. I caught them all .
without except ion , dan excited glances towards the road . Their
obedient faces flashed a momen tary conspi racy with the band of us
march i ng behind and beside the colu m n , I felt I was lifted in the air,
40

secretively bonded to those poor slaves of the sewing mach ine. The
termagant at the instruction desk knew noth ing of our furtive
contacts; I knew however that she must have sensed a loss of attention
because she turned round, appeared to see the procession for the first
time , then rounded on her pupils in a manner wh ich was clearly
angry and repri m and ing. The girls clustered together. giggling but
atten tive . One , who had giggled the most , waved her hand at us
behind her back and most of us waved back , some of the bolder even
shouting a greeting or a mild abuse at the tyrant who would not let
them join the troupe. The band remained impervious to the goings
on around them and behind their back. They blew and drummed
stolidly ahead , the brass cymbals flashed and clashed , sweat covered
the unfortunate one who was encased in the fat network of tubes
which curved skywards and opened flat-lipped and wide-mouthed
over the player's shoulder.
I knew now where I had encountered such a funnel. It was the
same as the picture on our gramophone into which a dog barked ,
below which was written : HIS MASTER ' S VOICE. Tinu and I had
long rejected the story that the music wh ich came from the
gramophone was made by a spec ial singing dog locked in the
mach ine. We never saw it fed , so i t wou ld have long starved to death .
I had not yet found a means of opening up the machine, so the
mystery remained .
At the road-junction one arm of the sign post read : To LAFENWA ;
the other- IGBEIN. IBARA . The procession followed the latter.
There was a market before we got to Ibara. There, women were
waiting by the road , more were flocking from their stalls by the time
we got there. Their stalls stretched endlessly from the righ t side of the
road , goods piled up on low stools or on specially laid trestles. I
hesitated ; i t did not seem possible that there was so much thing in
the world! I moved to the side of the band so that I could see beyond
them-there were no crossroads in sight and anyway. I reasoned that
if I did not stay too long in the market, I cou ld find my way back to
the procession by the sound. I turned into the market, wide-eyed .
Peppers of all shapes and sizes rose in profusion from wooden and
enamel trays. There were mounds of gari wh ich beggared those
cupfuls that were brought out at cooking-time to be turned to eba in
hot water. The earthy smell of yam powder assailed my nostrils long
before I came on i t . pi led high in calabash trays. And SALT! Nobody
surely. not even the whole of Ake cou ld eat so much salt in a hundred
41

years. yet I came on the piles stall after stal l . It gave way to a variety of
tubers, vegetables, dried fish and crayfish . then the stalls of meat with
men flashing long, two-edged kn ives among slabs of meat,
brush ing away flies with one hand or h i tting a small boy on the head
for dozing off while fl ies landed on the meaL The butcher was as
magical in h is own field as t he policeman who performed the
juggling with the mace. Each moment he looked as if he would cut
his fingers but no. the knife flashed j ust between two fingers and
down on the table landed two neatl y sliced pieces of meat .
It seemed a long time before the foods stopped al together. giving
way to clothes, sewing materials, toys . even sma l l bookstalls with
pens. rub bers , inkwells and notebooks neatly laid ouL
And then I came to a sudden stop and backed away . Staring me in
the eye was a sh runken head of an ani mal . dangling from a low
wooden shelf beneath a stal l . Only then did I notice that it was still
attached to the body . It had been dried and preserved . And there
were more . My eyes continued along the shelf. dropped to t he trestle
ta ble below and encou ntered sku l ls, just the plain, whitened skul l ,
without any skin o r flesh . large empty sockets and holes for noses.
And there were dried barks. leaves. It was t he strangest line of stalls
in the entire market , wi t h i ts assortment of stones. beads, pieces of
iron . coloured powders in little heaps. smal l parcels tied up i n leaves,
bottles fi lled with the strangest l iquids, and barks and leaves visible
within the bottles. There were also the d ried snakes and mice. The
women were m uch older i n these stalls. they sat im passively. ob
viously u nmoved by the m usic of the band which had driven the
younger ones on to the street. From time to time. a wizened hand rose
from the dark interior of the stalls, fly-whisk in hand, and described
in a slow circle through the sta l l . I experienced shock at their flat,
em ptied breasts and remem bered suddenly that it was wrong to stare.
I looked away.
Were these the witches we heard so much about? No breast that I
had seen before had appeared so flat, it did not seem human . Yet
when I looked in the trays again I recognized barks and roots sim ilar
to those which were bough t by father. stuffed into bottles and jars
where they were left to soak for days. They were given to us for some
ail ments. Some we simpl drank at periods mysteriously com
municated to either parent. And there were other barks bred in huge
pots . Once , after a fever, I broke out in a rash . I remembered being
washed every day with the contents from such pots. The herbs and
42

roots were brought home in baskets. boiled and allowed to coo l , I

was scrubbed in them , given pungent l iqu ids from other st uffed jar
to drink, and put to bed . Or there were pills from Miss McCutter's.
Oke Padi or some other place . and teaspoonfuls of unp leasant flui ds
from neatly labelled bottles. Often both forms of remedies wer(
admi n istered together. or took turns from day to day. It did not seem
to matter if one was ill or not . we always had to take something or the
other, only the intervals varied . I was not reassured by the appearance
of these women who appeared every bit as crin kled as the herbs and
roots on their trays. The potions seemed now to be fluids from their
own bodies since I could not conceive of blood flowi ng in them .
certainly not blood of the same colour as I saw when I cut my feet on
a stone.
The nearest looked u p suddenly at me and I returned her gaze.
Then she sm iled. If she hadn ' t . I may have ask(d her the quest ion
which were racing through my m ind. But her face , which did not
look like the face of the living while it was at rest , sudden ly turned
into the face of the sh runken heads which dangled just above her
head . I turned and fled . running all the way until I caught up with
the band. My head was pounding more from fright than from the
exertion , for the thought had occu rred to me that there wa no
certainty whatsoever that the skulls were real ly the skulls of animal.
They could have been the skulls of young chi ldren who had been
foolish enough to wander too close to the witches' stal ls. I reflected
that I had never liked those potions we were made to drink anyway :
now I had a good reason for refusing them .
To my surprise . the signpost that we next encoun tered also read .
LAFENWA : It was at a cross-roads. not a fork like the last one. Two
other hands read IGBEIN , IBARA , then LANTORO, wh ile A K E
poi nted the way we had marched from. We had already passed the
road to Lafenwa ; I did not know what to make of such m islead ing
sign post ing but it was something else to ask my father when I returned
home .
It was only appropriate that the Ransome-Kuti should l ive in a
school compound like my father. Kuti was a principal and I
recogni zed from the sign ABEOK UTA G R A M M A R SCHOOL that
we were passing the compound where he taugh t . I tried now to
recol lect how my father had explai ned the difference between
Principal and Headmaster. but the only fan that rema ined with me
was that I would go to the Gram mar School after I had fi nished in St
43

Peter' s. March ing past the stone wal ls of the com pound , I saw no
reason why I should wai t . The main building was set back i nto the
compound and a wide path swept towards this stone mansion which
stood on wide , arched pil lars and was profusely covered in
bougainvi llaea like B ishopsCourt of the parsonage. But i t was far more
im posing that that building. more im posi ng than BishopsCourt and
Pa Del umo's own residence joi ned together. I pressed my face against
the i ron gates and wondered if I shou ld not go in at once and resume
my schooling there . Then I remem bered it was a Saturday , so there
would be no school ing. Monday however was a different matter. I
would fi nd my way back without difficulty.
As I rejoined the procession however. I thought I now understood
the difference between a principal and a headmaster. Only a prin
ci pal could preside over a school as huge and i m posing as the one
which I had just seen. Sti l l , I hoped that the fact that I was only the
son of a headmaster would not prevent me from obtai ning a place
there ; in any case the princi pal was a frequent guest at our house.
Mother cal led him Uncle and we were encouraged to do the same. I
preferred his other name. Daod u . It fitted the man 's appearance . his
deep voice and energetic gestures. He rode about on the only
motorized bicycle I had ever seen. his agbada bil lowing on either side
of h i m .
One d a y , h e fell off, right near us , a t A k e . I f w e had been peeping
over the wall at the time we would have seen it happen . He was
brought i nto our house where I heard someone explai ning that his
agbada had billowed out as usual until the sleeve was caught in the
spokes of the wheel. They all disappeared i nto father 's room while
mother flew all over the house. Water was boi led . bandages and lints
prepared but then a nurse arrived , disappeared into the room and
came out again with my father.
' We must take him to the hospital . The burn at the thigh is quite
bad . '
I heard father mutter someth ing about the mach ine falling o n top
of h im , so that the hot exhaust must have done the damage . The
nurse said my father had done the right thing by smearing the injury
in vasel ine. The nurse left the house again . we were herded into the
back of the house and the parlour door locked on us. There were
heavy movements, doors open ing and shutting, then silence. When
we emerged . the patient had gone. father and mother with h i m .
When Daodu emerged from hospital h e bought a c a r and never rode
44

on the motorped agai n . Koye . h i s fi rst son whom we were told 1 0 lall
Cousin Koye because he was much older t han Tinu and I. soon began
to turn up on it at our house on errands or visit. Daod u car. we
learn t , was the t h i rd in the whole town . The fi rst was owned by the
A lake h imself. another belonged to a weal thy Chief who lived in
ltoku . Even t he Engl ish District Officer did not appear to own o n e :
he rode a motor-cycle or went on horseback.
I fel t rather uplifted as I marched away from the Grammar School :
I was goi n g there . that was set tled. But I alo d icovered t hat I liked
the Kutis. Schooling under Daodu promi sed to be an adven ture. This
l ight-headed feeling helped me up the road towards lbara which was
so steep that my legs. for the first time. gave a h i n t of t i ring. I h a d
begun to think that I would have to sit down beside the road and ret
when we came to yet another com pound with neat rows of houes .
small hut-like houses which were however bu ilt with com rete and
roofed with i ron sheets. The sergeant at the top of the col umn barked
out an order and the band wheeled into the wmpound and entered .
They marched straight towards the longest of these bu ildings. on to
the grounds i n front of i t and re-grouped themselve 1 0 d i fferent
orders from the sergeant . They were still i n two lin e,, but now they
stood shoulder to shoulder and marked t i me on one pot . I kept the
same d istance from them as I was when they began to l i n e the
grounds. i ndeed . I had lowed down when they en tered the mm
pound so t hat I was not really far fro m the gatt . An order was given .
the music stopped with a final drum-roll and a violent d ash of
cymbals. The air was very st i l l
A n d then I made a discovery . I was alone. The ragged . motley
group of children who had fol lowed . clown i n g . m i micking. even
calling out orders had fallen off one by one. It occurred to me now
that I had seen no one nor heard any of their festivt voices for a
wh ile. They had al l van i shed . leaving no one but me. And then I
made another discovery. I n a mat ter-of-fan way . I reali zed that I did
not know where I was .
The sergeant spun round on his heel . barked out some sen temcs
i n a very srrange language to somebody h idden within the bui lding .
That person now came out . man l y uniformed . The firt thing that
st ruck me about him was that he was albino. Then the next m omen t I
realized that he was not an albino at all but a wh i tt' man . Alo that,
unl ike the marching policemen . he wore hoes . He was d resed
simply in khaki , so I k new that he was also a pol iceman . His
45

appearance however bore very little resem blance to t hat of the band.
He stood on the steps of his office while the sergean t called out yet
a nothtr order which made the l i nes stiffen up. Another was called
and they appeared to relax . The sergeant then con tinued in the same
lan guage within which I succeeded in catching a few Engl ish words
and name-places . He appeared to be ' repon i ng ' something. the
' Oba 's palact' was involved in it, and it all ended with 'all correct'
and ' further orders' The white man spoke a few words, the Sergeant
gave two more barks and the parade broke up and went their dif
ferent ways. all except the sergeant. He stayed with the white officer
and they spoke some more ; it was during this d ialogue that the white
man looked up and saw me.
I was tired, I was sure of that now . The thought of running away at
once when the man looked u p . saw me. pointed and said something
to the sergeant therefore remai ned just a thought. I had no idea in
which direction to ru n . The sergeant also looked up. turned and
began to march towards me. I probably would have run the n .
tiredness a n d all , b u t the wh ite officer restrai ned h i m a n d came
forward hi mself. the sergeant fol lowing close . I nsti nctively I backed
one step towards the gate, but the man smiled, held out both hands
i n a gesture I d id not quite understand . and approached . When he
had come quite close . he bent down and . usi ng the most unlikely
accent I had evrr heard asked .
' K i n i o fe n i bi yen ? '
I knew the words were supposed to be i n my own language but
they made no sense to me. so I looked at the sergeant helplessly and
sai d .
' I don ' t understand. What is he saying ? '
The officer's eyes opened wide . ' O h . you speak Engl ish . '
I nodded .
' Good . That is venh rry denver. I was aski n g . what do you wan t ?
What can I doon for you ? '
' I want t o g o home. '
He exchanged looks with the Sergean t . 'Wel l . that seems vum
vum-vum . A nd where is home ? '
I could n o t understand w h y he shou ld choose to speak through h i s
nose . It made it difficult to understand h i m a l l the t i me b u t by
strai n i ng hard . I could make sense of h is quest ions. I told him that I
lived i n A ke .
Literally: what d o you want there)

46

' h has a big church , ' I added , 'just outside our walls . '

' A h-ah , near the church. Tell me, whaznname ? ' I guessed that he
was asking what my name was, so I told h i m , 'My name is Wolc . '
' Wonlay . Good . And your father's n ame ? '
' M y father's name i s Headmaster. '
' What ? '
' My father's name is Headmaster. Sometimes h i s name i s Essay. '
For some reason this amused him im mensely, which I found offensive. There was no reason why my father's names should be the
cause for such laughter. But the Sergeant had reacted differently. His
eyes nearly popped out of h is head . I noticed then that he was very
different from the grown - ups whom I had seen aroun d . He had long
marks on h is face , quite different from the usual kind we en
coun tered in A ke. And when he spoke, his voice sounded l i ke that of
the Hausa traders who brought wares to our house for bartering with
old clothes and strange assortments of items. h was a strange
procedure, one which made little sense to me . They spread their
wares in front of the house and I had to be prised off them . There
were brass figures, horses, camels, trays. bowls, ornaments. Human
figures spun on a podium , balanced by weigh ts at the end of curved
light m etal rods. We spun them round and round, yet they never fell
off their narrow perch . The smell of fresh leather fi l led the house as
pouffes , handbags, slippers and worked scabbards were u npacked.
There were bottles encased in leather. with leather stoppers. amulets
on leather thongs, scrolls, glass beads, bottles of scent with exotic
n ames- I n ever forgo t , from the first moment I read it on the label
Hint el Sudan , with its picture of a turbanned warrior by a kneel ing
camel. A veiled maiden offered him a bowl of fruits . They looked
unlike anything in the Orchard and Essay said they were called dates.
I did not believe h i m ; dates were the figures which appeared on a
calendar on the wal l , so I took it as one of his jokes .
Once or twice my father tried to offer money but the trader proved
difficul t . ' No , I can like to take changey-changey . ' Out came old
shins, trousers, discarded jackets with holes under the arm p i t , yet
Changey-changey-as we now called h i m-actually received these
cloth ing derelicts in return for his genuine ' morocco' leather.
' Look ' am master, a no be lie. Look, genuine morocco leather. 'E fit
you , big man like you must have leather brief-case for carry fi le. ' E be
genuine. Put ' am one more shirt . Or torosa. '
Their voices were so si milar that they could only be brothers. I was
47

even more convi nced of it when I heard him say . 'If na headmaster of
A ke be i n father. I sabbe the place . But what ' i m doing here ? '
They both turned to m e . I had n o answer t o the question. Then
the wh ite man asked . ' A re you lost ?.'
' I fo llowed the ban d , ' I repl ied .
The officer nodded sagely. as if everyth i ng had fallen i n place. He
turned to the sergeant and asked him to get his bicycle. The man
saluted and went off. Something conti nued to puzzle the officer
however. He put h is hand on my shoulder and gu ided me towards
the offi ce .
' How o l d are you ? '
' I am four years and a half. '
He let out a loud ' What ! ' , stopped . and looked at me agai n . ' Are
you sure ? ' I nodded . He looked at me more closely . said . ' Yes of
course. Of course. And you walked from Ake? Where did you start
from ? '
' A t the cenotaph. There were other childre n . but they left me. '
We reached his office and he lifted me on to a chai r. ' Are you
th irsty ? ' already prod ucing a bottle of orange squash . There was a jar
of water on the table and he m ixed me a drink in a glass . I d rank it to
the last d rop.
' Do you wan t another glass ? ' He did not wait for a reply before
m ix i ng another and handing it to me. It fol lowed its predecessor just
as rapidly. I began to feel better. I looked round the office for the
first time. stretched my legs and took an i n terest in the papers on the
table. I recogn i zed a journal on it which came every week to my
father. I looked at the man with greater i n terest .
' You are read ing m y father's paper . '
H e looked start l-ed . ' Wh ich one ? '
'That one. In Leisure Hours . '
' Real ly! You say it's }'our father's paper? '
' Yes. H e has a new one every week . '
He opened i t rapidly. looki ng for something o n its pages . ' You
mean he is the editor ? '
I could not understand h i m . I repeated, ' He has i t every week . '
A nd then the man grin ned and nodded . ' I see , I see . '
I was feeling drowsy. The Sergeant arrived with his bicycle. Half
awake. I felt myself lifted on to the cross-bar and the bum py ride
bega n . I barely sensed the arrival back home, hands lifting me up ,
passing me to other arms. My head appeared to weigh a ton when I
48

uied to come awake and respond to the babble of voices I heard

around me. I felt the im mense expanse of the bed in mother's
bedroom coming up to meet me, the room easily recogn i zed by the
smell of on -and-camphor. Then I dropped into oblivion .
I woke up 1n a hazy semi-darkness. A short while later, I reali zed
where I was. I also felt a huge pit in my stomach and clim bed down
from the bed . head ing for the kitchen to see what hour of meal it
was. When I opened the door, a wave of human voices engu lfed me.
The entire fron t room was crowded with grown -ups and they all
seemed to be speaking with excitement. So I turned and walked
towards the sound . As I came through the parlour I pushed open the
curtain in the i ntervening door and sudden ly everyth ing went silent.
A hundred pai rs of eyes were turned on m e , and I wondered what the
matter was. In the si lence I spoke out the only thing on my m i nd:
'I am hungry . '
Mouths opened wide. Then the silence was broken b y the
booksel ler's wife. She struck her pal ms together in a gesture of
amazement and exclaimed , ' E-eh ! Omo nla! Did you hear h i m ? He
is hungry . '
A babble of voices ensued , most ly echoing the booksel ler' s wife. I
could not understand that there should be such excitement over the
fact of my hunger. It looked like even ing in any case. and I had not
eaten all day. Then I heard my father's voice cutting i n . and he
appeared to be sm i l ing.
'Wel l . it seems only natural that he should be hungry. Wouldn ' t
you be. after a wal k from A ke t o lbara ? '
I heard someone say , ' Yes , but the way he said it! ' before I was
swept up by the booksel ler's wife , and nearly smothered against her
ample breasts. ' Give my child food ! ' she shouted . ' Mama, why are
you starving him? My lord and husband says he is hungry and you
haven ' t jumped to give him food. All righ t , I ' l l take him home and
feed him . '
And before I knew what was happening, she had swung m e on to
her back , sli pped her wrapper round to secure me tightly and was
singing and dancing . And suddenly everyone was singing with her,
laugh ing and shouting at the top of their voices. Only one person sat
in her chair , seem i ngly unmoved by it al l , this was mother. sitting
Shea-buuer.

49

with her chin rested on her pal m , staring at me. From time to time
she shook her head , sighed deeply and nodded to herself. Mrs
Booksel ler said ,
' Look a t her. I suppose she would still prefer h i m to b e wandering
through the wilds of Abeokuta. H M , please give me a stick. I think a
dose of her favourite medicine will do her good . '
Father laughed and said , ' Good idea. I ' ll get the stick . ' He
wh ipped it out from its corner by his chair and handed it to the
bookseller's wife . The next momen t , Mama was up and bounding
through the parlour. Everybody seemed in such high spirits, it was
strange 10 see grown-up men and women prancing t h rough the house
like the urchins who had marched to the music of the police band
until they chose to abandon me. I never knew when the meal was set
out at last because I had again fal len asleep on the back of the
bookseller's wife. I woke up in her bed the following morning,
light headed and strangely exhi larated . At the back of my mind, even
as I sat down to the biggest breakfast I had ever set eyes on , was a
feeling t hat I had somehow been the cause of the excitement of the
previous night and had , in some way , become markedl y different
from whatever I was before the march.

50

IV
I splunered , grabbed Nubi 's hand and fought for the sponge with all
my strength. At first I had merely pushed her hand away , again and
agai n , only to find her yet again suffocating me with water, soapsuds
and griny strands of fibre. Nubi would not yield. Now if it had been
Joseph . . .
I wiped one eye free of soapsuds and found Nubi stand ing back,
looking at me.
' Are you going to let me wash you or not ? '
' Let m e d o t h e face myself. '
' You ! ' Her laugh ter was scornfu l . ' Pu t your hand over your head
let me see . '
I obeyed her. I t appeared t o be some kind of test . Perhaps i f I
passed she would leave my face alone.
' Right over. Li ke th is . '
I placed m y arm right over the top of m y head , doing m y best
to fol low her. Now her fingers were playing with the lobe of her
left ear, she covered the ear completely, made it disappear i n her
pal m .
' Now , d o you see a difference ? '
I asked , ' A m I not doing it right-? '
More scornfu l laughter. ' Don ' t you notice any difference ? '
'What a m I not doing righ t ? '
' I t i s not what you are not doing right . I t i s what you are not doing
at all. Look at m y hand. It reaches over my head and covers this ear
completely. See ? Now look at yours. It hardly reaches over the top of
your head . '
I t sounded very sign ificant, but I could not see what she was
getting at. I kept stari ng at her han d , and the ear that kept appearing
and disappearing under i t .
'That difference explains w h y I have t o bathe you . If you think
because they allowed you i n school you are now a big boy in the
house you still have a lot to learn . There are things they can ' t teach
you in school. Now, come on . '
51

She advanced . sponge in hand . 'Joseph lets me do my face , ' I

persisted .
' Mama says I should bathe you , that is all I know. She didn ' t
divide your body into bits, some for you and some for me. '
Her left hand now d ipped the bowl into the bucket , scooped up
the water and moved to douse my head . I ducked.
' Look at you ! You are wasting water. You know what Mama is
going to do to you when I tell her ? '
I moved t o t h e corner of t h e bathroom . Too late, I real ized I was
trapped .
Even so , I fough t for my life. As the bowl looped over my head
with its contents, I reached out and deflected it. Nubi was drenched
and it seemed to make her angry .
' Now you see what you have done ! ' The movemenr was so fast , I
had no t i me to protect my face. From out of nowhere a huge wad of
moistness slammed into m y face, traversing every pore rapidly but
most especially blocking my nostrils.
Her fingers dug into my sku l l , pressing i t down while she scrubbed
my face without once letting in air. When I tried to bite I only got a
mouthfu l of the sponge , so I did my desperate routine, let my '<nee
buckle and , in that brief respite, butted her in the stomach . I heo.rd
her scream . ' 0 pa mi o' and the next moment t here were cries of'
'Tani yen ? ' from all over the house.
'Tani lo' gun nbe yen ? Tan i ? ' A nd then there were run n ing feet.
Hasti l y wiping off soapsuds with both hands, I blinked my eyes
open and saw Wild Christian framed against the opening. She shook
her head from side to side, baffled as always. Now I was real ly scared
that she was going to take over.
' She h as fin ished , ' I said . ' I ' ve had my bath . '
' He butted m e with his head , ' Nubi com plained , cl utching her
stomach.
' Stop exaggerating , ' Mama snapped .
' Yes M a . ' And Nubi straightened up at once.
' Scream i ng down the whole house. Are you trying to scare
everybody ? '
'No M a . But h e wouldn ' t let m e scrub his face. '
' You 've scrubbed i t , ' I reminded everyone at large. ' You ' ve done

Murder!
Who is that ?
Who screamed just now? Who)

52

nmhing but scrub it since I came to have my bat h . You ' ve nearly
scrubbed it to death , what more do you wan t to scrub? Tinu is still
waiting for her bath . '
Suddenly I fel t secure; there was a smile o n Wild Christian 's face.
She said to Nubi, ' Al l right . call Tinu. In any case they are both old
enough to start bathing themselves now . '
'Yes, yes. I 've said it before. I don ' t need her o rJoseph . '
' But you must bathe i n their presence, so they can make sure you
do a proper job. '
I nodded. I t seemed a little enough concession to make. Just the
same, I added , ' I don ' t really need them. In fact I have scrubbed
m yself before when Joseph was too busy. Joseph inspects me
afterwards and he says I am quite clean . '
' A l l right then . A lthough I can never understand how you come to
be so afraid of water, you , aJuly-born . '
I was now rinsing off the rest of the soap. ' Bu t I am not afraid of
water, ' I protested .
' No? Just look at the way you are rinsing you rself. There is soap all
over your face but you haven ' t even touched it. '
I quickly threw the next bowlfu l over my head . A s usual ,
something went wrong. I t usually did when water was cast over my
head or face. The next moment I was spluttering and fisting the
stinging rivulets off my face, fighting for breath .
Even through the wasps' nest that had erupted about m y ears as
the water commenced its habitual torture of my senses I heard Wild
Christian laugh ing as she walked away.
At breakfast they discussed i t . 'That son of you rs . . . ' she began .
' I don ' t know what he has done to water, but they don ' t appear to
get on very wel l . Do you know what happened this morning?'
They discussed it as if I was not presen t . It was another of their
strange habits, but I had also noticed that it seemed peculiar to most
grown-ups; they would discuss their chi ldren as if the chi ldren were
not there. We never discussed them when they were within hearing.
As I l istened to them from our own table I shook my head in strong
denial . Yes , they had missed the point; I was confiden t , as usual .
that I had discovered the loophole in their argu men t .
' Wole is shaking h is head , ' Essay observed .
My mother laughed. ' Are you going to deny that even when you
yourself poured water on your head . . .
' No , but I am not afraid of water. If I were , how is it I like to go
'

53

out and bathe in the rai n ? ' I slapped my spoon into the bowl of ekn
making i t send up a small splash .
' Be carefu l Mr Lawyer. Don ' t waste you r food , ' my mother ad
monished .
' I am not going to be a lawyer. I am going to marry M rs Odufuwa
and be a pastor. '
'Oh , i t is M rs Odufuwa now i s i t ? What happened to A untie
Gbosere ? '
' She h asn ' t come t o visit us , ' I explai ned . ' M rs Odufuwa spent
plenty of time with us at Easter. She is very fine . '
Essay took some time pondering the chal lenge . ' Well , ' h e said at
last , ' maybe you are not afraid of rai n . But it doesn ' t mean you are
not afraid of water. '
Mother looked from one to the other. said , 'To o , ' and prepared
to leave for her shop. Her attitude indicated that she knew j ust how
long the see-saw argu ment would take and that she had better things
to do.
' Is rain not the same as water?' I demanded.
' Rain means water, but water does not necessari l y mean rai n . '
With suitably solemn nods, Wild Christian sighed, ' Ngh-hu nnh ! ' .
cal led for her wosi-wosi bag to be brought to her bedroom m
preparation for the shop.
' But t here can be no rai n without water, ' I protested .
Father nodded . 'True. But there can be water without rai n . '
'The water came from rain i n the first place didn ' t i t ? '
' A h , that is where you are wrong. Rain actual ly comes from water.
It is because of the water that rain is cau sed . '
I was getting i n deep waters. My earl y triumph had long
dissi pated : then I remem bered the Bible. ' What happened in the
Bible ? ' I asked ' Didn't God create them both separately ? '
' Well, let's see. G o and bring the Bible from the parlour. '
I climbed down from the bench , my mind tried to race ahead to
what the Bible had to say on the subject. The choice of passage
p icked for us to learn by rote had not i ncluded verses from Genesis,
at least, none surfaced.
I p icked up the Bible and returned to the d i n ing room. A fter
handing it to him I returned to my table to pick up my bowl of eko,
then joined him at his table, sitting in mother's chair. My akara was
well. well'
Odds-and-ends.

54

long finished and I eyed the corrade-shaped dish which still con
tained four or five of h is akara. He caught the glance and sm iled .
push ing the dish towards me.
'Mind you , ' he conti nued , ' you will fi nd that the Bible tel ls only
one pan of the story. After God created this and that, he still left
them to react with one another i n their own ways. There are what we
cal l the laws of nature, that is where the quest ion of how rain is
formed comes in . '
I t seemed an unnecessary compl ication . I sucked air through m y
l i ps a s I b i t into fresh green atarodo that the W i l d Christian had
fried into the akara. The entire issue should have been resolved by
the order in wh ich rai n and water were created . Then I remembered:
' A l l righ t. Why has the whole town been saying prayers for rai n ?
Does that not mean God is st i l l creating rain when he likes? '
H e reflected briefly . ' Remember this. Even after h e has created
things on earth and given them their own working laws , as the
Creator he can st ill interfere; for instance he can qu icken up the
processes or slow them down . '
The Wild Christian cam e out o f her bedroom into the parlour just
then to say good-bye and heard what Essay had just said. She came
out shaking her head with that perpetual wonder at the i nfi nite
patience of Essay . ' But dear, are you sure he can un derstand all these
arguments you indulge him i n ? '
She came i n then fu lly into view, saw that I had changed tables
and also appropriated Essay's left-over akara. In one swift movement
she had snatched up the dish , closed it and pl aced it in the basket
now on the maid's head . As I knew only too wel l , that would form
part of her 'elevenses'
' I did think the argument was get ting rather l ively. I didn ' t know
that akaralogics and atarod imensis were making his tongue dance . '
She hauled m e off the chair. 'Carry this! ' She plun ked a bag i n my
hand and I knew what it meant. It was Saturday . Si nce there was no
school, she meant to make me do my share at the shop.
'I have some homework , ' I protested .
' Bring it to the shop with you . '
I put down the bag , disappeared into the ' pantry' for m y books.
' You shouldn ' t encourage him too much dear . He is roo
argumentative. You know what he said to the sexton? Last Sunday,

' Fresh peppers,

round type.

55

during afternoon service. He was chattering away , he and that new

friend of his, Edu n ' s son . So the sexton wem over and rebuked them .
Do you know what this your son replied ? '
' What did h e say ? '
' He said, of all the crowd i n the church who were singing and
praying, how cou ld the sexton prove that he was talking? Can you
i magine? Asking the sexton to prove that he was talking ! I ' m su re if
the sexton had obliged they would st i l l be in the pews arguing it out,
that 's the son of ch ild he is. '
I paused behind the door, horrified . Essay did not trifle with
reports of m ischief i n church or Sunday school. How could the sexton
have done this to me? Telling the Wild Christ ian was simply making
sure that Essay got to hear it sooner or later. I remained motionless,
glued my eye to the gap i n the door, l istening.
' We-e-ell . ' I heard h i m say, ' i t would be a rather difficu lt thing to
prove you know . . . '
Wild Christian sighed. ' I knew i t . I knew you would defend him
when i t came to a matter of argumem. I don ' t know why I even
bothered to tell you . After al l , he got it from you . Where is he? Has
he taken my bag ? '
'That ' s i t o n your chair. '
' 0 ya. let's go . ' She pushed the maid forward . ' I ' l l leave him to
plague you with his argumems. In any case he only embarrasses me at
the shop with all h is foolish questions. Why is your stomach bigger
than my father's? A re you pregnam l i ke the organ ist ? Yes . that's the
son of thing he asks, in case no one has told you . '
' Really . ' His mouth opened wide with laughter. ' When was this ? '
' Ask h i m . He's you r son . Qmq, let 's go. M y customers are
waiting. ' She gave the maid a shove and was gone from the house.
I stayed on the spot . Essay ' s laughter did not mean that there was
definitely no reprimand to come. He remained in his chair, very sti l l .
I felt h i m listening. Through t h e crack i n t h e door I cou ld o n l y see a
thin l i ne of his back , yet I knew he was listen ing for sounds of m y
movemem i n the ' pamry ' . W e both knew the game. W h y , I could
not tel l , but Essay would make no move umil I made m i ne. A
footfal l , coug h , something knocked over, a creak in the door. Umil I
an nounced my existence, he would simply sit sti l l , probably reach
out a hand for a toothpick and, with a faraway loo k , long distanced

child.

from his surround , commence picking his teeth . Elegantly. I gl ued

myself to the ground , hardly breath ing.
And of course. the prayers began. There was one other way the
contest could end, and that was with the arrival of a visi tor. Essay had
a long , even deli berately spun-out memory . It was part of his wicked
patience. Days, weeks after the culprit had forgotten his misde
meanour, after many weeks in which Essay had even patted him on t he
back for some especial conduct, some achievement or i n itiat ive .
an errand delivered accurately in spite of the complexity, high marks
in school etc. etc . , Essay would su mmon the obl ivious one:
'Er . . . oh yes, Bunmi . '
' Sir?'
' M m . You were sent to l toku three weeks ago. not so ? You
remember ? '
'Yes sir. '
' M m - h m . And the road to Itoku passes these days t hrough the
bookseller's compound , not so ? '
Si lence . Resignation o r t h e commencement o f sweat .
' Have you lost your tongue? I sai d , to get to l tok u , you now have
to pass through the bookseller's compound , and of course one is not
al lowed to leave the booksel ler's compound without spending some
time plucking his mangoes ? '
Silently I tried to work o u t t h e scale o f my offence, measuring
talking during a church service to taking time off on an errand to
pluck mangoes. The graduation was not reassuring. I prayed harder
for a visitor. aware though I was that this m ight prove to be no more
than a postponement of a painful reckoning . And then I had to
sneeze!
'Wole ! '
' Sir. '
And at t hat moment came t he sound of a heavy step on the outside
pavement . The voice of Wild Christi an followed through . ' Dear, are
you st ill home?'
' Yes . I'm here . '
She spoke to someone outside. ' Come i n , come i n . Take a seat , I ' l l
call h i m for you . ' She came through the parlour wh ile I squeezed
myself back beh ind the door, dou btful that this was exactly the
respite I had prayed for. Not for the fi rst time, I noticed t hat God
had a habit of either not answering one's prayers at al l , or answeri ng
them in a way that was not straightforward .
57

' God so good , I met M r Adesina on the way . He was asking if you
would be in this evening because he wan ted to see you . . . I thought
he might as wel l see you now. is that all righ t ? '
' Is i t about h i s j o b with the Synod ? '
' What else does h e ever think about ? H e keeps pestering m e at the
shop and I always tell h im to see you . Is he scared to come? This time
I dragged him back with me. If I had left him to come by himself he
would be circling the parsonage till dark . '
' Why did you bring h i m ? The answer i s still the same-! won ' t
plead for h i m . H e cannot b e trusted with fu nds. '
' A ll right, you tell h im dear. I h ave told h im a hundred times but
he won ' t accept i t . Let him hear it from your own mouth . '
They both went to the front room . I followed after all was silent in
the dining-room , paused to fl ick a crumb of akara off Essay's plate
in to my mouth .
In the same practised move m y hand swept to the wash-basin
wh ich stood on the left wal l , facing into the dining-room . The hand
dived smoothly into the basi n , flicked up a tiny amount of water and
brushed my lips in one fluid movemen t . Al most at once a powerfu l
blow landed on the side of my head knocking me almost into Essay 's
chair.
' Good . '
She stood glowering over me. ' I thought we had cured you of that
habit . '
Wild Christian had a habit o f levitating from nowhere. For a
moment I dwelt on the unfairness of it. I had cured the habit. My
movemen t was , adm ittedly, the same as when it was a ' p roblem ' . but
this ti m e , I had merely ri nsed my fi ngers of the akara, a movement
which was normal ly completed by also wiping the mouth . Then , on a
moment ' s reflection , I felt relieved. The blow could easily have been
for eating that crumb of akara which , for her, could have meant
GREED and would call for something more than a mere 'blow to the
head . I did not even whimper as she proceeded to seize my right
hand between hers and squeeze the fingers together until they hurt .
'Just l e t me catch you a t it agai n . '
She then set about the purpose which had brought her back. got
out a tea-mug for the visitor and removed the tea-cosy. I quietly
remi nded myself never again to g ive the appearance of reviving the
ritual wh ich I once repeated ly enacted with the Wash-Hand Basin ,
driving the household mad .
58

I also admonished the Wash-Hand Basi n by kicking ic after all , i t

was t h e source o f t h e ' habit' that wok the entire household w cure.
Th is basin was yet another of the mysterious presences i n the house .
fu ll of myriad recesses. shelves and ledges. Am idst the scampering of
cockroaches . salt sachets. tablets. mini-bottles. soaps and ch ipped
china jostled with packets of potassium permanganate. pieces of
alum, gl ucose and a variety of yeasts. Like every other item of fur
ni ture . it served more than the purpose for wh ich it was known . And
more than all Oher items. it was-a LANDM ARK. The in terior of
the house was defined by its locat ion . . . it's in the corner of the
Wash- Hand Basin . . . underneath the Wash-Hand Basin . . . I was
going past the Wash -Hand Basin when . . . go and fetch me the stick
by the Wash-Hand Basin . . . he pushed me against the Wash-Hand
Basin . . . I was polishing the Wash-Hand Basin . . .
Even the mice had picked u p the habit of escaping from the pantry
by one undeviating pat h which wok them beh ind or u nder the
Wash-Hand Basi n .
It was higher behind than in from. so that when Essay raised the
lid on the few occasions when it was closed . lifting it backwards on its
hi nges . it rose and rose w his height. then exceeded it-and Essay to
us was a very tall man . I thought it was fort unate that the stand was
where it was . If there were no wal l for the lid to rest agai nst . nothing
would have saved the rest of the stand from wppl ing over backwards
from the sheer weight of the lid .
The basin i tself sat in a big hole on the flat shelf which formed the
cover of the interior. below the main lid. and it always seemed to me.
frown ing i nto the darkness of the lower cupboard . that the view of
cockroaches looking up at this big. wh ite enamel protrusion . must be
quite li ke the view of the rats wh ich scuppered about in the big dug
out latrine whenever any grown-up buttocks fi lled the hole in the box
above them . Both holes appeared about the same in size , but beyond
that , there were no fun her simi larities. The lower cupboard had a
separate door which opened along a horizontal axis and was secured
by a flimsy . metal lic hook. Its two shelves housed every object thar
was m issing from the pantry or which could not find space on the
din ing-table. the d resser in Wild Christian ' s bedroom . the wi ndow
sill by my father's place at the dining table . or the small cupboard
behind his head where he kept his Epsom Salts, woth-brush , a bottle
of the mysterious ' A lcool ' which he occasional ly substituted for a
chewing stick when cleaning his teeth , and cotton wads. Every other
59

item of that domestic family of objects resided in the Wash-Hand

Basin
After a lot of ponderi ng over the peculiar angle of the lid. I came
to the conclusion that the ext ra inches at the back were to al low for
that exua ledge on which were placed, in add i tion to the cake of
soap. all other objects wh ich cou ld find no room i n the lower cup
board . The search for any member of a particu lar fam ily of objects.
objects such as a bottle of aspirin or an exotic cake of soap usually
began and ended in the Wash -Hand Basi n .
The ' habit' had developed un noticed by me. A s for Essay
noth ing escaped h i m . One day I was wal king from the from room to
the pantry , a cou rse which took me between the Wash-Hand Basin
and his din i ng-table when he shouted :
' Stop ! '
I froze .
' Why d id you do that?'
I did not know what I had done .
H e studied me i n ten tly. ' Al l righ t . Where d i d you just come
from ? '
' Iwaj u- ile.
' A nd you were going to the pantry, not so ? '
' Yes sir. I needed to fetch a book . '
' I see . ' He thought for a moment. ' Now go back. Sit at your desk
fo r a m i n ute. At the end of a minute. walk to the pantry exact ly as
you normal ly do . '
A t the end o f a m i nute I was taking that n inety-degree turn past
the Wash-Hand Basin when the order came again . ' Stop ! '
I froze. Fast as the order had come , i t was too late for whatever
purpose he had in mind. Again he stud ied me i ntently.
' Go back again . ' This time, when I say stop , stay exactly in
whatever posi tion you are . Don ' t move your head . shoulder.
anything. If one foot is before the other, remain exactly like that. Do
you understand ? '
' Yes sir. '
' I don ' t even want you to turn and face me. Walk as you normal ly
walk to the pantry . Don ' t change your pace or anything. I may not
even stop you this time, if I do. it may not be at the same place. I
may shout STOP any time at all along the way. Now , is that clear?'
'

Front room . house frontage.

60

Clear, but highly mysterious. I could not understand what this was
about and t ried hard to recoll ect how I wal ked . It seemed to me that
nothing had changed in my way of wal king. but who could tel l ?
Only Essay.
I expected the order to be given in a different place this time but
no. I t came at precisely the same spot and I obeyed his instructions, I
hoped . to the letter. Now what ?
On his face was a glint of satisfactio n . He leant back and contemplated m y existence for a long moment. He nodded slowly.
' What is your hand doing on your mouth ? '
My hand ? Mouth? I thought backwards rapidly.
It was t rue. My hand was rest ing lightly on m) mout h , somewhat
to the left of the face . And t he mange t h ing was that it was wet . I
held it away from my face . There was no doubt about i t ; my fingers
were wet .
' Don't you know what you do every time you pass that wash-hand
basi n ? '
' No sir. ' A l though now, glim merings o f a peculiar cleansing rite
had begun to su rface in my m i nd . There was the recollection of an
arm snaking out of i ts own vol ition. dipping in the basin . . . yes . I
thought I now knew what Essay had patiently observed . The fresh.
moist feel of m y l ips confirmed the rest of the motion . Passing by the
Wash-Hand Basin , my hand flew to the basi n , dipped , flashed over
my lips. left to righ t . Catching myself at it several times after this. I
wondered if it cou ld be a form of madness.
It had been going on for a long time; the cure took just as lon g .
Every member of t h e house was ordered t o watch me. shou t o n m e
just before . or report me if it was too late . Then I would b e made to
walk past the basin several times over. Joseph took del ight in tip
toeing after me, making me leap out of my skin as he imitated
Essay' s voice and shouted on me to stop. If neither parent was i n ,
Lawanle or Nubi or indeed any o f the 'cousins' tried t o assu me their
role of dri l l - master. Even Ti nu, older by a mere year and some
months. got into the act . I felt a ferven t need to lock them all up.
beginn ing with her. i n the dark in terior of the Wash-Hand Basin and
pour the slop from the basin over their heads.
The rains set in agai n . Harmattan. when the skin chapped and the
vaseline, metholatun and pomade jars rapidly empt ied , vanished
from memory until the fol lowi ng year. A habit which had began
with the Harmattan , when I would linger by the wash-basin and
61

moist the cracked skin of my lips also disappeared with that season ,
never w rewrn . How it had grown imo such an umhinking, sueam
l i ned mOlion did not puzzle me for long; there were other habits lO
be p icked up. then abandoned forcibly or be replaced by Ohers
before they came w the anemion of the ever-watchful Essay or The
Wild Christian.
I never did discover how Adesina had lost h is position with the
Synod , and if he ever gO i t back. He left the house. l i ke so many
others before h i m , dejected . tearfu l . H is eyes cast a last appeali ng
look at Wild Christian who had stayed on the periphery of the
discussion ; normally she would not even remain there, but the Synod
somehow i nvolved her as well since it was a church affair. To the man
who could not be trusted with funds , I heard her p lay the same
dutifu l role I had now learnt to expect:
' Well you know, i t ' s the Headmaster's dec1sion . I couldn ' t ask him
w act against h is conscience. '

62

v
Even the baobab has shrunk with time , yet I had imagined that this
bulwark would be eternal , beyond the growing perspectives of a
vanished childhood . Its girth has dwindled with time and the
branches now give only a little shade . There was a name for the
school bell-house, a description at least , a place in the fam ily of
physical things-it came back without effort-the Only Child of the
Distant Chu rch-Tower. Only now, even the distance between the
bell-house and the church tower has shrunk. White as a pil lar of sal t ,
t h e church-tower still dominates mango t rees, t h e orombeje tree i n
t h e churchyard, t h e cenotaph also which , although placed outside
the church walls, seemed to belong to the same extended family of St
Peter's church. The church tower is sometimes framed against the
steep road towards lberekodo, nudging dwarf rusted roofs along its
sides. A ke , lbarapa, ltoko , then over the hill into Mokola, the Hausa
quarter, before l berekodo itself. The hive of brown shacks, pink and
orange bordered houses, stops abruptly before the crest and g ives way
to the ordered wall and broad gates of the chief's stable. Hidden
within the hillside on either side of the road are the twin-markets of
Ibarapa, n ight and day markets, the n ight to the right, the day. left .
None of this has changed.
But the more i ntimate things have. Baobab, bel l-houses . playing
fields and paths. Even Jonah. At Sunday School the teacher looked
through the window for inspiration , waved at a nearby clump of
rocks but rejected them . On the other side of the school building.
h idden from u s was a rock that was smoothed by our feet . I t appeared
to cover the earth-at least from where the junior schoolroom ended ,
to the cemetery outside the parsonage at the higher end , the furthest
point from the main gates.
' You know where the school does its clay modelling? The whale
that swallowed Jonah was bigger than that rock. '
The eager ones nodded assent. ' Yes, whales are enormous. '
' Bigger than houses . '
'Even ships. '
63

' Bigger than aeroplanes. '

We had heard the occasional drone of an aeroplane, even seen its
moving speck in the sky. A hand pushed a piece of paper towards
me. I read ,
' M y father's house is bigger than a whale. '
I was real l y indifferent but replied , ' Liar! '
I would not read his response , feeling sufficiently c rushed . That
was my roc k . My own very private rock. And now the Sunday School
teacher had turned it the common property of these lying, boastfu l ,
querulous others. She had intruded into a private abode, one of
many. Different from that sleeping, eating, living place which
belonged equally to Essay , Wi ld Christian , siblings, vague relations
or 'qmq qdq' -a vague expression for someth ing between servant
and fam ily appendage-Jonah was my own very secret habi tat . And
now the Sunday School teacher had turned Jonah in to something
from the Bible.
For after that , the patient, placid presence, hitherto unnamed ,
became Jonah . Permanently. Its m ystery became com plicated in a
world of bibl ical tall tales whereas before , it had remained unaffected
even by the weekday activity of m ixing clay on its vast body , using
rain water that had gathered in numerous oval holes. Who made
those , we did ask , not that we were real ly curious. But the model l ing
classes never touched the inti mate lives Jonah and I lived at
weekends, for the school went home while I remained in the par
sonage and cou ld walk over to climb up i ts steep sides and sink
through i ts broad back i nto deep i m mobility. There were other rocks
in the compound, rocks with clumps of bamboos, smooth i ncl i nes
down wh ich we all slid and yel led . Jonah was bare , solitary and
private. Until the school teacher tu rned it into a fairy tale . Swallowed
and sealed up in a whale 's belly! It did not sound wholly improbable
bur it did belong i n a world of fables, of the imaginatio n , of
A laddin's lamp and Open Sesame. Whereas before . . . I ex
perienced the passing of a un ique confidan t , the loss of a replete ,
subsu ming presenc .
The guava tree was another, not the luxuriant , generous tree
beside the communal water-tap, overlooked by the pastor's square,
squat residence. This other was some distance away, near the infant
school building. It was protected from stones and sticks because its
fru its were usual ly closer to the ground and , in any case, it did not
give off m uch fruit. But it had large, dark-green and fleshy leaves
64

and one of its branches was weighted almost to the ground. This
guava tree had an affinity with the rainy season , nothing really
tangible, except that it did not seem to be itself except in the rainy
season. Under brood ing clouds it performed the double feat of
existing yet retreating into an inner world of benevolent foliage
spirits, moist yet fi lled with a crisp vitality, si lent yet wisely com
municative. I t was also without time. So was Jonah in a way, but the
guava had this indefinable assurance of swal lowing time, making it
cease to exist . I sneaked out of our house i n the morn ing and sud
den ly it was dusk , yet I had no recollection of any action beyond
being among the branches. I watched Joseph , or Nubi wal king up
the stone-lined path . Nubi was of course later baptized like all non
Christians who came into the household. After that , we had to call
her by her Christian name, Mary. She wou ld come up the broad path
and turn first towards the pond where she knew we often played ,
fl icking flat pebbles to skim off the slim e-covered surface or simply
watch ing the ducks. She walked up wiping her brow with the loose
tip of her wrapper, calling out my name. She belonged to another
world, one which however became real enough when she yanked me
expertly from my perch .
' You are going to eat the cane tonigh t , you wait . '
I stumbled all the way , keeping u p with her speed . She looked at
me at last with some concern .
' Can ' t you start sh ivering ? '
' I a m not cold. '
'Who asked you if you were col d ? '
' You said , couldn ' t I start sh ivering ? '
' Idiot . Od?. It rained this afternoon . Anyone could have caught a
cold . '
' But I haven ' t . ' I t had rained too . I now remembered taking
refuge in the deserted schoolroom . She fel t my clothes.
' You haven ' t got wet anyway. That would have made things worse
for you . Still I don ' t understand why you didn ' t come home after it
stopped raining, instead of going to sit up in that tree . '
I understood at l ast . ' I could say I was trapped by the rai n ,
cou ldn ' t I ? '
'What a n idiot! It stopped rai ning over two hours ago. That 's why
Mama sent me for you. We all thought you were in the house all that
time. '
' But I told Joseph I was going to the school compound . '
65

' He wid her. But you ' ve stayed so late. Pity you haven ' t got a
fever. It's standing in the corner for you at least . '
Nubi was wi ly. that much was becoming clear. Had she played that
game before ? Timidly, I inquired .
She chuckled. ' You forget, Mama's medicines are not very
pleasan t. '
But you have faked a fever before . not so ? '
' Listen you silly. You ask too many questions . '
' No . tel l me . ' I really wanted w know.
'I don ' t have w fake shivering when I see I ' m going to receive
Mama's flogging. I stan shivering from the moment I know she is
j ust waiting to let loose . You ' d be surprised , but it is actually she
who says. have you got a fever? She's never realized that one can stan
shivering from the thought of that pasan . '
So you say yes ? '
' Of cou rse you idiot . Wouldn't you ? '
' But you always have a temperature , ' I insisted . Temperature was
aga in one of those magic words. If the Wild Christ ian said you had
Temperature you had Temperature. Since we cooked on an open
hearth I always wondered how. if you put a palm against the
forehead of any of us in that unvent i lated kitche n , you would not
discover Temperature. Essay. I sometimes observed, was not that
impressed by Temperature.
Nubi conceded that she had never fully understood Temperature.
But it hel ped to have i t . and she always had it at the right time.
' Do you think I have Temperature ? ' Vaguely I fel t that it m ight be
possible, since I had been running to keep up with her. She felt my
forehead.
' Not a chance. I think you are going to feel that stick . '
But the walls have retained their voices. Fam iliar voices break on
t he air, voices from the other side of the rafters. I sara was second
home-Essay's natal home. All the grandparents were Father and
Mother-and somehow we said these as if with capi tal letters. There
the rafters were smoky. bare of the usual ceiling mat. There were
objects in corners of the roof. wrapped in leaves . in leather. Some
were not so mysterious, si nce Father would often reach up into such a
bundle. one that seemed caked with the accu mulation of a hundred
' Whip.

66

years' drought. Yet out of it would come nothing more puzzl ing than
kolanuts, or snuff. Isara was another kind of home , several steps into
the past. Age hung from every corner, the patina of ancestry glossed
all objects. all human faces. Our older relations were differently aged
from those in A beokuta, relations on our mother's side. Lateri te ,
mud houses. floors of dung plaster. indigo dye on old women 's
hands-I did not l ike that , I hated the touch of hands transformed
by the indigo gloss. And it was in !sara also that we saw so much
indigo-green tattoo on the arms and bodies of women.
New Year meant !sara. Smoked pork , the flavour of wood smoke,
red dust of a d ry seaso n , dry thatch . New Year was palm wine,
ebiripo, ikokore . . . a firmer, earth-aged kind of love and protec
tion . Isara was fi lled with unsuspected treats, as when Father pul led
down yet another om inous bundle from the rafters and it turned out
to be smoked game , ageless in its preservation . Our women were
darker in !sara, much darker. Buba, wrapper and shawls were also of
those varied shades of indigo , though occasionall y one would en
coun ter the white shawl , or a bright yellow headgear which further
receded the wearer's face into an ancient shadow.
I could not understand why Father's rafters in Isara should be so
bare, yet so fu ll of surprises, while the ceiling at the parsonage,
though sealed up was, beyond the scu ttling of m ice, devoid of
mystery. Occasionally the termites took a hand . Suddenly the ceiling
mat fel l on our heads-the term ites had long been silently busy and
no one suspected they were everywhere . A long-forgotten box of
papers was pulled out from under the bed and we found its contents
ruined by term ites. They travel led into the roof from along a hidden
crack in the wall and went to work. Suddenly the i ron sheets were
exposed ; between the zinc roof and the mat-nothing. In fact , the
ceiling often bred tan talizing thoughts of a nocturnal visit by Father.
impatient for our New Year visit, secreting his mystery parcels i n the
ceiling to last the long wait . It was a teasing, u nsettling thought. So
final ly, I had to make a hole in i t .
I had n o t planned t o , though I often intently pierced t h e matting
with my expectations. A loud , truly deafening noise was the first
awareness I had that anything was wrong . It brought the world to an
end . Something smacked against the mat , an instant later another
sound, dull yet crisp announced that something had passed through
and hit the metal sheeting of the roof.
But the defin ition of those sounds came much later, for I was at
67

this poin t on the floor, the explosion having startled me off my

chair. I believed also that I was paralysed and refused to move: I had
been shot to death, there was no other explanation for the sud
denness of my descent to eart h , none other for the lack of pain or the
ful l clarity of my senses. Obviously , I had attai ned a heavenly
d imension . Moreover, H M was i n his bedroom at the time; I was
waiting for h i m to emerge when it happened . There was no motion ,
so it could not be his bedroom whose door still seemed so plain to the
eye .
The preceding moments regained focus. Yes . I h ad been sitting in
the front room, u nder the porcelain clock. I occupied the chair where
visitors sat who h ad business with my father. His air-gun leant against
the wall and I sat in the chair by the door, waiting for him to come
out so as to accompany h im , as usual . Li ke Jonah , like the Guava
Tree and the bell-house, Essay-on-the-hunt was another private
existence . He never spoke. I fol lowed him , sometimes carrying his
gun , picking up the birds he shot, mostly wood pigeons. Sometimes
a hawk or kestrel, a squirrel-once, even a small emo. I recalled t he
excitement that fol lowed the shooting of a rare bird , hitherto unseen,
perhaps a m igrant . We went through the deserted school compound
and i nto the surrounding bush. Rocks loomed before us and he
climbed carefully, first handing me the gun . When he reached a fi rm
ledge he reached out for his gun and I climbed after him. We sat and
waited. Or we climbed down the other side, then we might make the
return by a wholly different route, walking down the path that ran
along the school wal l on the outside and .entering by the main gate.
Perhaps the bookseller or the catechist would stop him then wh ile I
wen t ahead with the day's bag .
Huddled close against the floor, scenes of past excursions flashed
through my mind, so certain was I that I was dead . I had drifted off
perhaps into a frequent reverie while caressing the stock of the rifle.
My hand must have found the trigger. Then it became clear to me
that I was not dead , so , naturally, a different terror took its place.
I ndeedonly then did any fear in trude. Acceptance of my death had
come easily: very different was the thought of my father's reaction to
my carelessness.
I scrambled u p . but slowly. Still no movement from the bedroom .
Was it mere imagination? I was certain I heard the door creak. It
A w i l d rodent, rat family.

68

would be l ike h i m , I thought, to peer through and watch my reac

tions. The gun sti l l leant against the wal l , in pulling the trigger I had
not even knocked it down . A whiff of something burn ing stung my
nostrils and I forced back a sneeze , scrapi ng against a chair. This time
there was no doubt in my mi nd-something moved beh ind the door.
I fixed my gaze on the porcelain clock, marvelling that it had not
been h i t . The muzzle of the gun sti l l pointed directly at i ts base. I ts
face was decorated by a windmi l l and two women with hooped skirts
and strange , tight-fitting caps. On the other side of the diamond
shaped face , a flock of birds flew over some fields. For the first time,
and for a very brief moment , I wondered if my father had bought
that clock because of the birds. A l l the design was blue. The por
celain looked fragile. Would I escape a beat ing ?
He is watching, I thought. Perhaps he thi nks I am wounded . So
that also became a possibility and I began to look for traces of blood .
None. Still no movement from his bedroom . But I knew h i m . He
was the opposite of Wild Christian who would by now have rushed
out . First consideration : is he wounded? Find i ng h i m i n tact, a
barrage of blows ten ti mes more lethal than I could imagine a bul let
through the flesh. Certainly more disorien tating. By contrast HM
might pursue his original plans as if nothing had happened. The
hunting excursion , home, supper, small tal k , visitors , disputation on
predestination or the War . Even ing prayers, then . . . .
'Wole! '
No, I was not going on any hunt with h i m , let him form u late his
pun ishment as he wished but I was not goi ng to be kept in suspense,
totting by his side, carrying his gun and picking up fallen game as if
nothing was going to happen . Whatever he was planning behind
that door . . . I leapt up and was out through the door before he
could even gather up his voice . A few moments later I lay panting on
the back ofJonah , keeping a watchfu l eye on the path through wh ich
he must pass if he still meant to hunt.
A t different t imes , something was always going to be the death of
' that son of yours' -this appeared to be my mother's fervent bel ief.
And the most persistent th reat to my existence at A ke appeared to be
day-dream ing or broodi ng . How she described i t depended , I found ,
on the seriousness of whatever lapse had been caused by the ailment.
She lost no chance to remind Essay of the need to cure me of i t before
it was too late , so now I conj ured up her presence and watched her
react to the news that her prophecy had nearly been fulfilled . I told
69

you before , I heard her say , so I won ' t say anything more . Only to
expand , a few moments later, on the dangerous effects of so much
brooding i n a child. She was not alone. We knew of parents who took
their children to ' native doctors ' for a cure for the same complaint.
I was now truly worried ; it seemed as if Wild Christian might after
all be right . Only one other event had succeeded in my payi ng any
atten tion to her com plaint-this was the incident of the rose-bush .
We were all in the backyard . she was cooking, wh ich meant that the
entire household was occupied with running trivial errands for her,
holding a spoon or a cup , receiving a slap if the fire had burnt down
or the pot had over- boiled . Unless I was especially picked upo n . I
would manage to escape being a part of the d isorder, usually by
going to read in the front room , or even simply from being seen j ust
completi ng my lessons in the front room . It was recognized that I had
special chores in the house . I took some share in the cooking but i t
was really a token share , much less t han that of Tin u for i nstance , or
of any of the 'cousins' who l ived with us. One of these special chores,
one which I chose for myself and enjoyed doing, was looking after
Essay 's garden . I watered the plants, pruned dead stalks and
discouraged the spiders from spinning their webs across the crotons.
The roses came for the most careful tending. I was m u rderous with
the goats wh ich sometimes succeeded in penetrating our defences to
nibble at the flowers . Noth ing would do but to lock the gate on
them . then drub them thoroughly with stones and cudgels. Once we
nearly beat a goat to death . He lay panting and bleeding in the
narrow path leading to the gate. The aim of one of our cousins had
been a l i tt le too true and the stone had been much larger than the
ones wh ich, by unspoken agreement. we normally used .
When we opened the gate at last , t he goat was too weak to climb
out . Terrified now, we doused it with cold water, then heaved the
wretched animal over the step . We locked the door and watched it
through a gap while we prayed that it would recover and go away
before Essay returned . He approved of us chasing out goats, not
locking them up and murdering them . It was with immense relief
that the tortured animal staggered up at last anq wobbled off un
steadily. The following day it was back agai n , in the parsonage. If it
had come i nto our garden again, I would have ki l led i t .
O n l y m y father himself surpassed t h e jealousy with which I
guarded the flowers. as one of HM 's staff discovered , painfully. He
acqui red a name from his harsh encounter with this jealous regard70

'L-m(><;> ' -Stick it back on!-an episod e which also made our
neighbours, and Essay's col leagues , marvel at the nature of that
strange being the Headmaster, who would pursue an im possible
demand with such single-minded ness.
Odejim i , the teacher, thought at first that it was a typical HM
joke, a m istake which many people committed because of the
Headmaster's fussless way of meaning what he said. The teacher had
arrived in school, a pink rose stuck in the button-hole of his jacket .
My father admired the rose , t hen asked him , very ordinaril y . where
he had obtained it.
' O h , i n your garden of course , Headmaster. '
Essay did not change his tone when he said, ' A h , I t hought I
recogn ized it. You like roses I see . '
'Oh yes i ndeed sir. And I m ust congratulate you . Real ly, you have
a wonderful garden . I never knew it or I would have visited it more
often . '
'Oh? So how did you discover I had a garden ? '
' I was passing b y sir, and your back gate was open . I saw the
blooms through the opening and I could not believe my eyes. You
h ide your light under a bushel , Headmaster. '
'Thank you ' said Essay. A nd there the matter was left .
Schol over, h e sent for Odej i m i . ' A h yes, you r rose . I can ' t quite
remember who you said gave you permission to pluck a rose from the
garde n . '
Odeji m i looked puzzled, then corrected
the mistake. ' Oh no, I
.
never said that anyone gave me permission . '
M y father looked surprised . ' Reall y ? You mean you j ust went i nto
the garden and helped yourself. '
' Precisely sir. I mean , I hope you don ' t mind. ' Very belatedly, M r
Odej i m i was beginning t o get a message.
' Not at all ' my father assured him . ' Bu t I would l i ke you to return
it now. You know, to the place where you found i t . '
There was a long silence. Odejimi briefly lost h is syntax and ap
peared to stammer. 'Er . . . to returning it sir? You mean return it to
the er . . . to your garden . '
' Yes please, that is, i f you do not mind . '
' Of course Headmaster. I am e r . . . really sorry that you took
offence. I should have asked your permission . '
'That 's all right . Just return i t where i t belongs and we wi l l forget
the matter. '
71

Odej i m i sm iled broadly. relieved that no d irer consequences were

w follow . He p icked up his books and marched briskly wwards our
house . Essay watched him cover half the distance . then fol lowed h i m .
H i s uncanny sense o f tim ing ensured that both h e and Odej imi met
exactly at the back gate, Odej imi al ready on his way out , beam ing.
'Oh I see you ' ve fi n ished ' Essay remarked .
' Yes indeed . sir, I ' ve left i t in the flower-pot . '
' Good . Let ' s just go and see how it's doing , shall we ? '
A baffled Odej imi followed h i s boss t o t h e scene o f crime. There ,
slum ped over the rim of the pot was the wilting rose . Essay took a
long loo k at the objec t , t hen craned his neck a l i ttle w the side to
discover the stal k from which it had been cut .
' But it came from that st alk originally, didn ' t i t ? '
' O h yes' confirmed Odej i m i , h is voice most sprigh tly i n h i s eager
ness not to contrad ict . 'That was the precise stalk from wh ich I er .
removed it . '
' Good . L mqq ! '
' Beg your pardon sir? '
' I sai d . L mqq . ' And with that final instruct ion . Essay turned and
walked into the house . He calmly set about the tasks he would
normally perform at that hour. paying no further attention to the
teacher.
I had raced ahead from school to brief Tinu and Dipo . Together
we now watched the hapless man open and shut his mouth as the
fishes did when they were brought to the house for sale . still al ive .
His rechristening was instant-he was now M r L-m(iq.
L-m<?9 made a move at last . Holding the rose in his h and with
great tenderness he en tered the house . M y father was in his bedroom .
L-mqQ stood in the front room , faced the door wh ich led to the
bedroom . For one moment we thought he would com mit the
ultimate folly of fol lowing my father into the room . he looked
sufficiently confused to have done anything in that momen t .
However, he merely coughed to attract attent ion .
' Excuse me sir. Er. sir. . . . Headmaster sir. '
Essay made no attempt to conceal his movements in the roo m . For
al most an hour L-mqp remained on the spot. the dead flower in his
hand . From time w time he punctuated his wait wit h . ' Sir. if I may
just explain sir . . . ' , ' i f ! could j ust have a word with you sir: ' ' Please
Headmaster, I wonder if . . . I mean . if I could only . . . . '
A n hour passed before Essay emerged from the room . The space
72

between his table in the front-room and the chairs arranged against
the wall next to the parlour was not wide enough to take two people
at a time, and h is eyes opened in measured exasperation of find ing a
total stranger blocking a passage in his own home. L-mQQ flattened
himself against the edge of the table, but Essay did not attempt to
pass. I nstead , he waited . It took another ful l second before the
teacher realized that he was about to add to his catalogue of sins and
he leapt backwards, apologizing profusely, stumbling over h is words
and feet. Essay ignored him and went to the backyard. He took one
look at the flower-pot, looked at Odej i m i who had followed him
there, and gave a thin pitying smile that sent the teacher licking his
lips i n frigh t . I t was a smile we all knew, i t was accompanied by a
movement of his head from side to side. We turned cartwhee ls in the
pantry in a fever of excitement , for we had recognized the com
mencement of a long , difficult lesson for the erring teacher. We
settled deeper into our ringside seats, speculating on the possible
lines of development.
L-mQQ underwent a mental transformation at some point during
the next hour, because his next specific act was to try and hold the
dismembered rose to the stal k . He began by freezing a long time,
staring into vacancy. Then he turned towards the flower- pot, his
movement like a sleep-walker's, and again he held the rose to i ts
parent stal k , pressing the two severed points together. When he let
go, the rose fell into the bed . It was a big disappoin tment. Seeing his
fixed stare into nowhere, watching his l ips working in some strange
fash ion , we had come to the conclusion that he was working a spell,
either on Essay or on the rose. I t became clear that i t was the latter
when he held the flower against the stal k and we were set to cheer,
thi nking that it would work. It fai led , and L-mQQ stared into the
pot , then raised h is head up with his hands, clutch i ng both sides,
and bellowed in anguish :
' Ye e! Mo k'ran !
I sudden ly felt pity for h i m .
The next moment, he was standing stiff-backed , animated . His
eyes had lit up with a GREAT I DEA and he bolted from the house as
if from he ll. We felt profoundly disappointed . Surely Odej i m i , a
teacher under the HM should know better than that. Could this be
the great idea that had occurred to him ? Running away? No one

Ah, I ' m i n trouble!

73

escaped Essay. certainly not someone who had tam pered with his
roses.
It was not until the return of Wild Christian from the sho p , with
Odej imi in tow . that we learnt the true nature of h is inspiration . He
had gone to sol icit the aid of mother in appeasing the wrath of the
Headmaster. The journey from the shop to the house . a mere ten
minutes wal k must have taken an hour. since L-m(iQ insisted on pro
strating himself to her at every step. wringing h is hands and
repeating that he was a doomed man unless my mother could do
someth ing for h i m . The slow procession cont i nued right into the
backyard where Wild Christian commenced her preparations for the
evening meal . She promised a hundred t imes that she would do her
best but, nothing would satisfy Odej i m i un less she somehow
produced Essay on the spot and got him to say that al l was forgiven.
Wild Christian sent off at least four of the children i n all direct ions to
spy out Essay 's movements: only then did the poor man relax,
getting in the way of mother's cooking by offering to do every chore
i ncluding stirring the soup. He had to be prised from the grinding
stone and was finally expelled to the furthest corner of the top of the
yard with a bottle of lemonade and a saucerful of chin-ch i n . I took
them to h im and, assessing ful l well his state of m ind. spoke kindly
to h i m .
' You don ' t feel l i ke eating a t all , I ' m sure . '
'Oh yes, no, I mean yes . I don ' t . Please , thank Mama but yes. I
mean tell her no thank you . Very kind of her. Kind woman . Is HM in
yet ! '
Tinu was waiting round the corner. We shared the chin-ch in and
dran k the lemonade. For me. he had now paid his d ues and I had no
further in terest in his agony. We could not after al l chase him round
the yard l i ke a goat .
It was close to midnight when Odejimi left the house that day. an
exhausted . chastened teacher. Wild Christian did not broach the
subject im mediately : she merely served Essay h is d inner. pretending
not to un derstand the purpose of the quick survey which he made of
the backyard when he returned . and the tight pursing of h is l i ps on
failing to see L-m(iQ anywhere. Afterwards, she remained closeted
with h i m for about an hour. When she came ou t , she sent some
food to L-m(iQ who had not moved from his h ide-out in the yard.
She had to go out herself and force him to eat , to our intense
d isappointment.
74

The bell rang for evening prayers. I had no doubt whatsoever that
L-mQQ was on his knees, praying hard with the family but on his
own behalf. After prayers, Essay sat in the front-room . read i n g . Of
h is knowledge of L-mqq's presence in his backyard , he betrayed no
sig n . I did not sleep. When the house had fal len completely silen t .
Essay went through the parlour t o the yard . I heard h i m shout ,
' Is Odejimi there ? '
Startled from his doze , the ill-starred man snapped out a ' Present .
sir' and stumbled over objects towards Essay He rep<'"ated . ' Present
sir. I ' m right here sir. very sorry sir. '
Then fo llowed the cool , measured voice of Essay ,
' Don't you have a bed to sleep i n ? ' There was sil ence , then . 'Well .
good-night. Secure the gate after you . '
When I heard my name forced through a choked pipe, the sound of
it near-identical with the first escape attempts of piptd water after
the long drought of Harmattan . I knew that an unbelievablt disaster
had befallen the house. I came back to earth thoroughly frigh tened .
for Essay had appeared at the ou ter door and his fact was going
through u naccustomed changes of horror, incredulity, intense
agitation . Essay. the cool . del iberate HM po inted a shaking finger in
my direction and I had to acknowledge that , unbel ievable though it
was, the voice that had called out my name was indeed h is.
In m y hand was a stal k of ewedu. I leant against the half-barrel
filled with earth , the bed of the new rose-bushes on which I had
lavished much time and care. The buds were appearing for the fi m
t i m e , two or three had actually begun t o open . The strange aptn
was that they now lay in shreds. flogged to death by my own hand.
If Wild Christian had not had her helpers constantly passing or
awaiting orders in front of her, she would have seen the act ion long
before and called me to my senses. But she was seated on a low stoo l .
fussing with her pots and pans. wh ile t h e children mostly had their
backs to me. When Essay stepped on the threshold of the outer
dining-room door, the sight that confronted him over d ie cooking
group was this: his Number One Gardening Assistant, leaning
against the barre l , the ewedu stal k in his left hand going gently up
and down into the rose plant , a hypnotized stare into nowhere on his
face . The fresh young petals lay wounded on the bed , caught among
A vegetable.

75

the thorns and branches. Even the leaves were broken , stamens were
cut in half at the fi laments, the crop lay piteously on the leaves of the
calyx, the younger stalks had been slightly brui sed by the gentle but
persistent strokes of an ewedu baton which had been conducting
some music in my head . The disaster was total . In broad dayl ight, in
the presence of a large number of people who , as if through the wiles
of the devil-nothing else could accou nt for i t-had been so
positioned that they could not even see or suspect and warn , I had
physically assaulted Essay 's roses and infl icted m onal wounds on
them .
At least L-mQQ had something to attem pt to glue back on the
plan t ; where did one begin in all this?
I had never loved Wild Christian as I did at that moment.
Respond ing to her husband's bellow of pai n , she looked u p and took
in rhe situatio n . She breathed a soft ' A -ah ' and her eyes fil led with
pity. The next moment Essay charged across the intervening space
and h is fingers affixed themselves to his favourite spot, the lobe of
my ear, only this time, he was not merely pinching it to hun but was
trying to lift me up with it. Wild Christian moved very swiftly. It was
one of the few times in her life that she interfered with Essay's
punitive decisions, going as far as detaching my ear from h is fingers
and plead ing with h i m .
' Dear, you must know. H e must have been dreaming. A h-ah , isn ' t
h e t he one who spends all h i s time looking after the garden . His
mind was n ' t here. He didn't know what he was doi n g . '
Essay 's snorts dimin ished t o heavy breathing. then became
regular. He appeared to calm down . He took one more look at the
battered plan t , shook his head in self-pity. and strolled away from
the scene.
Wild Christian sighed . ' Something j ust has to be done before you
kill yourself or set fire to the house . '

76

VI
I lay on the mat pretending to be still asleep. h had become a
morning pastime, watching him exercise by the window. A chan was
pinned to the wall , next to the mirror. Essay did his best to imitate
the white gymnast who was photographed in a variety of postures and
contortions on that chan. There was a precise fusslessness even in the
most strenuous movements. In . . . Our . . . In . . . Our . . .
breathing deeply. He bent over, touched h is roes, slewed from one
side to the other, rotated his body on irs axis . He opened h is hands
and clenched the m , raising one arm after the other as if invisible
wei ghts were suspended from them . Sweat prickles emerged in
agreed order, joined together i n disciplined rivulets. Finally. he
picked up the towel-the session was over.
From the wi ndow-si ll he next picked up his chewi ng-stick and a
cup. the stick moved over an im peccable set of teeth . scrub bed deep
into the corners, up and down the front teeth . He spat neatly into the
cup. From time to time he grunted a response to the greeting of a
passer-by. Once or twice he would actually consent to return a half
phrase to a passi ng neighbour. a ph rase with discern ible words. but I
felt that this caused him an effort .
After a while he picked up his rowel , rolled the ends of his wrapper
in a lump about h is waist or tied them around the back of h is neck
and went out of the bedroom . I followed the sound of his slippers
through the house and imo the backyard where he would strol l .
pausing t o exam ine h i s roses and pick off some withered petals.
Occasionally his voice would ring our, summoning someone to per
form an errand , probably calling for his cli ppers to sn i p off a
withered branch . Often , simply standing still among his plants,
gazi ng through the flowers i nto his distances.
The room gave off an ordered m usti ness. in contrast to Wild
Christian's bedroom . Hers was a riot of smells, a permanent
redolence of births. illnesses. cakes, biscu its and peu y merchandise .
This varied from the rich earth-smell of 1/IQ oke. to camphor bal ls

A hand-woven clmh, much valued .

77

and h u n d reds of unguents . Some of t he household , i ncluding a

grow n - u p maid s t i l l wetted t heir m a t s at

ni ght

so t here was a

permanent tang of urine in t h e a i r . I n a n y case a sick ch i ld was

i nsta n t l y t r a n s ferred from the mat on the floor t o her enormou s ,

four- poster bed where the mattress fu rther absorbed the effects of
a bladder whose trai ning had become temporarily slackened by
strange fevers. Afterwards the manress wou ld be turned over to the
sun for a whole day. but it never completely lost that acrid tang
which suffused the room even with both windows fully open.
Wild Christian ' s bed was twice the size of Essay's, at least it always
appeared so . It had huge brass knobs on al l fou r posts and the railings
at the head and feet of the bed had linle brass spheres which could be
unscrewed . For some reaso n . the rai l i ng at the foot was removed
altogether, which saved us quite a lot of punishmen t . Now when we
unscrewed the tiny spheres at the surviving end, played with them
and lost them . we could obtain spares from the discarded railing
which lay h idden in the big store-room .
The four-poster with those shiny knobs , and the enormous dresser
were the only items in the room which aspired to any definable form
or shape. Everything else in the bedroom was resolutely. even
fanat ical ly set against order or permanence in any form. Bundles were
piled underneath the bed . baskets of soap. rrayloads of t in ned
sard ines, pilchards. packets of sugar. bolts of clot h . round camphors
and square , leaf-wrapped parcels of shea- buner or blac k , local soap.
Jars of sweets, home-made and i m ported , such as Trebor m i ms. rested
on rhe window-si lls side by side with odd pamphlets. bibles, hymn
books and tanered books. Tightly sealed tins of kerosene. pal m-oil .
groundnut oi l . enamel bowls of gari, beans and dried corn were
stacked in a corner . . . my father would come imo the room in
search of something. look around . give up and go out shaking his
head in patient despair.
The top of the chest of drawers was marked by the same profusion
of d isorder. only. irs i n habitants were of a different species from the
in satiable cavern beneath the bed . the wal l corners or the window
sills. Jewellery boxes. isolated beads. bracelets. ear-rings and other
ornaments, a leather-bound bible. hymn and prayer books all with
silk ri bbon markers were the approved residents. There were also
china pieces decorated in h igh rel ief l i ke the cicatrix on the face of an
ara-oke, and other ornate curios which multipl ied at fest ivals, or
Someone from the hinterland, considered ' bush ' .

78

with the arrival of visitors from outlandish places. Yet , at night,

sufficient space was created on the floor where a mat was spread to
sleep a constantly varying assortment of children-sometimes as
many as twelve-there being no more avid a col lector of strays than
Wild Christian, tacitly aided by her husband . We never knew her to
say No to any of those parents, guardians or relations who brought
their ward for ' training ' , or simply to be cared for. Some ran away ,
only to be brought back again . Some arrived with their heads full of
ringworms, their stomachs distended from poor diet , their feet eaten
by yaws and with l ice in their hair. Others came well trimmed and
groomed, their boxes fuJ I of new clothes, their pockets full of
spending money.
' What are all those portmanteaux for? ' Wild Christian would ask,
her face deceptive in its innocence , but fooling no one.
'Oh , just a few changes of clothing. '
' I see. Wel l . leave him two shins and a couple of shons. leave him
a dansiki for church , and take the rest back. As for money, m ake sure
you leave h i m with none of his own . If he needs pocket money, let
him come to me. '
Wild Christian's bedroom manifested the very nature of the
children whom she took under her wing; it waged war against itself
yet created a sense of belongi ng. The bedroom , not their parents,
appeared to have given birth to this family, spewed them out only to
resorb them and m ake them chi ldren of the house. In the calm and
privacy of my father's bedroom I would wonder about these parents
who will ingly abandoned them to the home of ' headmaster ' and his
wife. I wondered what my sister felt about it al l , unable to enjoy the
intimacy which I derived from my privi leged position in father's bed
room . Dipo was still a baby . Si nce he was a boy , I expected that he
would later join me in our room ; that seemed only right.
I t was a room whose mustiness came from accumulated papers
frayed journals. notebooks, files, seasoned leather cases and metall ic
trunks, leather shoes carefully laid out . Twice a year Essay reduced
the volume of papers by holding a bonfire from which we snatched
glossy catalogues and in trigu ing journals. over which we pored . They
belonged to a different , unreal world. By lifting the hang ing bed
spread . my eyes cou ld rove at ground-level rou nd the cardboard cases
and trunks. all awaiting the next disgorgemen t , wonderi ng if they
knew of their fated end in a bonfire.
The room was full of dust-motes , caught in the beam of sunlight
79

that came through the window. Through it I reviewed the bookcase

with its neatly stacked shelves. I had already sampled several of their
hoard . leaving even Essay astonished at my appet ite for books, yet
even he d id not know how deeply I had burrowed into his bookcase. I
had casually d rifted into dusting his bedroom . finally easing out
Joseph whose duty it was. Half of my work ing hour was spent
devouring his shelves. Wild Christ ian lost no opportunity to show me
off to her visitors an d . at the beginning , I needed no prom pting to
beg in showing off. But then she had to bring Tinu into the act , dis
paragi ng her comparative lack of attainmen t . In place of my delight
at being invited to read came discomfort . then resentment. Tinu was
the closest playmate I knew and a protective bond had grown bet
ween us which only showed when she was hurt or threatened .
Helping her with her homework I regarded the same as doing m y
own ; I could not see t h e difference nor understand that Essay found
it necessary to ask q uestions which were so obviously designed to
catch her ou t . Reducing her before strangers was , however, the
ulti mate crime.
Wild Ch ristian's sense of the ultimate crime was different; it con
sisted very simply of man ifesting mr eu . the spirit of the devil, at
any time. but most u n pardonably in front of visitors. The catalogue
of mr eu was quite sweeping. and it included showing even the
sligh test evidence of ' unwilling' in the face of a parental order. No
child of H M and his wife , no ward, no 'QmQ QdQ' was about to
com m i t such a crime; alas. a few had faces which betrayed them even
before the thought was formed . Wild Christian constantly impressed
u pon me that I was princi pal of these. Thus I resorted to failing to
fi nd the books through which I was to demonstrate my cleverness to
visitors. I developed sudden fevers, which unfortunately were not
bel ieved , since they were not accompanied by 'Tem perature' . Bu kola
was the only child I knew who could effortlessly manipulate
'Temperature ' , and hers was always in the opposite direction-her
body wou ld simply go cold . Lacking her talen t , I took to vanish ing
when ordered to find a book and perform to visi tors.
I had an al ly. It was no more than a fleeting expression , and Essay
never perm itted h i mself more than that once to show d isapproval. It
was also l i kely that he did not real ly mind when the exh ibition took
place among his 'own people' -l ike h is debating circle-but once at
least I caught him wince in discomfort , then turn away to h ide his
distaste. M y disappearances took on a bolder turn . books vanished ,
80

Essay's bedroom door somehow got mysteriously locked and the key
was missing. I grew reckless, and it seemed the normal order of
things.
Now I sought ways to let the household know that father and I
belonged in a separate world. Wild Christian watched the p rogressive
abandonment of participation in the general household ordering and
let it go. ' Papa gave me some homework' was final , it brooked no
argumen t . But the seeming triumph did not come without its rooted
fears. I sensed , not baule, but demarcation lines being d rawn , yet
even these required a measure of defiance which escalated every day .
I would deny it to myself, yet I knew that it was taking place ; the
treatment of my own sister was merely the first event to bring it to my
uneasy nouce.
Deep down , I felt I was headed towards a terrible pun ishment . I
could not define how I had deserved it, nor how to avert it. The song
in the story which my father had told me the previous night came
back to mind like a special warning.
Igba o l'qwq
Tere gungun map gungun
tere
lgba o lc;sc;
Tere gungun maja gungun
tere
lgba mi l ' awun o
Tere gungun maja gungun
tere
The Tortoise was lying of course. Claiming he knew neither hand nor
foot of the cause of his terror was quite typical of his deceitfu l nature.
But the sight of gourds which broke off their moorings on the farm
and began to chase him over rocks and rivers must have been most
unnervi ng. The song appeared far more sui tabl y appl ied to me: every
rime Wild Christ ian accused me of being possessed of mi esu ' . I
was simply puzzled that no one else appeared to share my deep sense
of injustice. I h ad not after al l , provoked the situation . I roved
through the woods on the next expedit ion wit h one fearful eye on
The gourd has no arms.
Tere gungun etc.
The gourd has no legs
Yet the gourd is pursuing the tortoise.

81

anyth ing bulbous. There were no gourds on the farms or in the

woods of the parsonage but there were the baobab trees with their
velvet-cased oval fru its. the shape and size of grinding stones. I saw
them rai n ing down on me, then pu rsu ing me through the woods. If
Wild Christian prayed hard enough , perhaps it cou l d happen.
My eyes fel l on the exercise chan ; that offered some escape from
disturbing thoughts. I stood up and began to strike some of the
postures of the call isthenist.
' What do you think you are up to ? '
Lawanle had just come i n . The in trusion was unpardonable.
' Do n ' t you know you are su pposed to knock betore entering Papa 's
roo m ? '
' Since when d i d you become Papa? ' A n d she came fu rther i nto the
roo m .
' I t i s still our room ' I insisted .
' I t won 't be much longer' She said. ' You are getting older you
know . '
'What difference does that make ? '
' You ' l l find o u t when i t ' s time' she shrugged . ' Now come on.
Mama is asking what you are still doing in the room . Why haven ' t
you had you r bath ? '
' What a m I going to find out ? '
' Oh god , come o n . Must you always follow o n e question with
another question ? That is what is wrong with you . you l ike
arguments too much . you fancy yourself another Papa don ' t you ? '
' What a m I going t o fi nd out ? '
She half-sung . 'That there will b e some CHA NGES in this house . '
' What changes ? '
Lawanle let loose her derisive laughter. ' Someone i s going t o fi nd
out very soon .
' A ll right. I a m n o longer interested. Keep you r secrets. '
Pu lling me into a corner of the parlour. she asked , ' Didn 't Papa
tell you he was travel ling ? '
'Where to ? '
' You see. It i s always a mistake t o answer even one question of
yours. All one gets in return is another question . '
I l ied . ' I knew he was travel ling because he told m e an extra story
last night. He does that when he is going to be away for some time.
I n fact he told me two more but I fel l asleep in the middle of the
last . '
82

'Then he should have told you where he was travel l ing to . '
By now we were crossing the parlour and approaching the bac k
yard , so fun her conversation was impossible.
As I scrubbed m yself in the bathroom I felt ill with apprehension .
Lawan le's words had merely increased the unease which was lately
surreptitiously transmitted to me-those sentences that began on
mother's tongue , but were never com pleted . The fleeting d is
approval of some privilege extended to me by Essay, the pursing of
the mouth as I made off with my mat to his room while Ti n u , cousins
and all retired to the common mat. I hated the commu nal mat, I
real ized quite sudden ly; it went beyond merely feeling special in
Essay's room . I hated i t with a vehemence that went beyond the fact
that some of the others, much older than I, still continued to wet the
mat. I simply preferred to be on my own .
My father travelled ; I moved into Wild Christian 's bedroom . I
awaited his return with a different kind of anxiety-his return would
be testing time. On the first night of his return I made to resume my
normal sleeping-place but was prevented by mother's casual voice
saytng,
' Wole, why don ' t you sleep with the others tonight? You
shouldn ' t abandon them just because your father is back. And your
baby brother is getting used to climbing down to sleep with you . '
I n the dark . I dissected the tone. Was this to be just a token ex
pression of me caring about being with others? I did not for one
moment bel ieve in Wild Christian 's concern for Ladi po's feelings;
even so , I permitted myself to hope that my reinstatement was only
deferred a night. Normal relations would resume the fol lowing
night.
That following night, I lay on my mat in the dark and cried . My
transfer was permanen t . And there could be no m istaki ng the rather
guilty half-smile of confirmation on my father's face.
Ladipo was growing fast in his cot. He was born with a noisy,
excessive energy which constituted another reason for keeping clear of
that maternal dorm itory. He had long begun his effons to climb over
the cot and had succeeded once or twice , chiefly by falling down
from the top of the cot , so desperate was he to get on the mat with
us. It occurred to me then that this child was born with no sense at
al l , if he actually wanted to leave the sheltered peace of his cot to join
that medley of bodies on the mat . Sleeping there brought on the
wildest dreams. A tree would fall over my body and I would struggle
83

awake; it was an arm or a leg fl ung over me. Some of the other
sl eepers were veteran warriors of sleep-they went to sleep only to
ja 'run 'pa, to fight tremendous wars which took them from one
corner of the mat to its extreme opposite, rolling and mowing down
bodies on the way . end ing up in the morning upside down in the
wrong place or miraculously back in their original position . I would
wake up in the n ight after a violent struggle with pythons that had
tied up all my l im bs. suffocating under slimy monsters from a
myth ical past . unable to u tter the scream for help which rose in my
throat .
Nothing disturbed the bl issful repose of these warriors and other
victims o f their campaigns. They slept and snored soundly through it
all , led from the bed by the stentorian basoon of Wild Christian. On
waking u p in the m iddle of night, the sounds i n the room ap
proached the sounds in the Blaize Memorial Canning factory where
we were once taken to watch the grapefruits, oranges, guavas and
pears being cleaned , sl iced , pul ped , canned by a series of monstrous
guil lotines, motors and flapping bel ts, p istons and steaming boilers
wh ich spluttered , belched , spat, thundered and emitted measured
jets of liq uids that went into the cans and bottles.
In the mornings there would often be the argument about who
had actually left the wet patch or two on the mat. Wild Christian was
a specialist in unravell ing that short-l ived puzzle. She pronounced on
the matter with such detective ease that she verged on the mystical ,
considering the unpredictable positions in which the suspects found
themselves in the morning, far from the scene of crime. Gradually it
dawned on me that there was a characteristic shape and smell formed
by the puddle of every human being , the secret of wh ich could only
be known to parents, i ncluding surrogate parents. Of the latter, my
only doubts were whether the secret was mystical l y transm itted or
formed parr of the character-notes brought by the actual parents of
the 'cousi n ' when he or she was handed over.
' You have to watch h i m Ma'am . He doesn ' t steal, no, I have never
caught h i m with that terri ble habit. But he is lazy. ah, he is lazy
That pawpaw hanging from your tree over there , wh ich doesn ' t even
have enough energy to move our of the way of a bird ' s beak, is not
half as lazy as this wretch you see before you . ' And with her finger
jabbing in the head of the totally bewildered youth , 'You see that
half-eaten pawpaw , that is what children's brains become when they
don ' t use them . We say Study . but you won ' t study. You want to
84

become an alaaru carrying loads for half-penn ies at Iddo station .

Loo k , you won ' t even have a head to put the load on if you don ' t
exert your brain now, because it w i l l j ust co llapse. Your brain would
have turned to pulp. pecked by birds i n your sleep like that pawpaw
mash you see over there . . . .
It was the mother's last public duty before washing her hands of
the reluctant student. But then , as she departed , she would in
variably remem ber one final detail which always had to be
whispered . No amount of eavesdropping by Tinu or I ever caught
what this strictl y- between-parents secret was. The truant mother
would, almost guiltily, certainly with much furtiveness, draw Wild
Christ ian aside and a brief, intense , one-sided conversation would
fol low, with direct glances at the changeling. A fter giving much
thought to the problem of the communal mat, I was left with only
the one conclusion that it was at this secret session that characteristics
of the new entran t's urine puddle were passed from one mother to
the other.
'

The d iversions of the public streets frequently spilled into the

parsonage . The sounds carried wel l before ; we followed i ts course and
could tell within m inutes if the event would pass us by, i n which case
we rushed to the ladder and other improvised stands which provided
us with a panorama of Ake, over the churchside wall that had nearly
proved my undoing. I could now race up the ladder with the rest . If
the spectacle poured over the crest of lto ko's sky-grazing road
towards Ake, i t would turn the corner of the church compound
towards the palace; retain a straight course past the cenotaph of the
warrior Okenla and round the bookshop towards Igbein and Kut i ' s
Gram mar Schoo l ; o r best o f all , pass right under o u r noses along the
untarred road between the church compound and our wall , to turn
either left towards the Aafin or right i n the direction of the General
Hospital. Depending on what occasion it was, the parsonage would
also receive the noisy guests; funeral processions however did not pay
courtesy calls on us, though they were often j ust like weddings, or
outings of dance societies.
The hearse led the way , drawn by pall-bearers; sometimes a horse
took their place but this was not very often . The coffi n was smothered
in wreaths made of plaited palm branches into which flowers had
been woven. If it was headed for St Peter's, the church-bell began
tol ling some minutes before the cortege came within sigh t , solem n ,
85

single strokes at intervals of between thirty and sixty seconds. We

could almost feel the slow tramp of feet t hrough the ground, ac
compan ied by creaky turns of the hearse wheels. Often they appeared
silently , each face set with grief, compassion , or the sense of oc
casion-these last we easily detected. They were the ones who fussed
over a card wh ich had become displaced from the wreath , their l i ps
were pursed in an unchanging manner and they turned to whisper
something or the other to the actual mou rners at exact intervals.
At the churc h , the hearse was relieved of i ts burden which was
then taken by a group of men into the church. I t always seemed
strange that, in spite of all the funerals at St Peter's, no one had
ever worked out a comfortable way of taking the coffin from the
hearse, carrying it up the few steps, through the aisle between the
pews and on to the two cross-benches in fron t of the altar. The
coffi n appeared i nordinately heavy no matter who had died , the
bearers staggered u nder the load and we always waited for one of
them to stum ble and bring the coffin down with a crash. It never did
happen.
Some processions however arrived for the church service already
hymning or chanting refrains to prayers or other mutterings by a
robed cleric who led the procession or brought u p the rear. Such
singing was soft , appropriately restrai ned . I t was nothing beside the
scene that fol lowed after the actual i nternment wh ich fol lowed
direct ly after the church service. The file of solemn , weeping women
and their stiff companions broke formation and spilled over the street
in ecstatic dances . Hands which had been clasped so formally in
front of the mourners waved cheerfu l goodbyes to anyone along the
road as if each person stood for the relation they had j ust buried .
Trumpets appeared from nowhere , clarinets, drums, tambourines
and trombones-it all depended on how elderly or importan t the
deceased had been. Even the empty hearse appeared to be affected by
the mad gyrating, not surprisi ngly , as the two men who were still
attached to i ts handle had also thrown themselves with energy into
the dance. They appeared to have their own special motions: a few
steps to the righ t , then the left. back again into a straightforward
course, then up went the handle and before it came down they
had turned to face the rest of the procession and t hus continued to
dance backwards, pulling the hearse along. The women 's lungs were
the more powerfu l , pumping energy i nto the singing without
diminishing the manipulations of their buttocks:
86

lie o, ile o
lie o, ile o
Baba (Iya) re ' le re
lie lo lo tarara
Baba re ' le re
lie lo lo, ko s' ina
One spectacle we did not rel ish . Indeed. except for the urch ins
who followed them , this kind of spectacle had noth i ng of the fest ive
about i t . Whatever form it took, i ts principal feature was this: a
youthfu l culprit with evidence of his or her transgression tied to the
neck or carried on the head . Next came the guardian or parent ,
wielding the corrective whip from time to time. As t hey went
through the streets, layabouts and urchins were encouraged to swell
the numbers, jeering and singing at the top of their voice. They
picked up tins and boxes along the way and added an assortment of
rh ythm to which the culprit was expected to dance ; often it was the
offender who supplied the lead wh ile the mob provided the refrain .
Most of the t i me, the tired , humil iated wretch was a you n g woman , a
fact wh ich made some i mpression on me.
I t was perhaps the only time that the kindly M rs B . earned my
silent rebuke. Her maid was suffering from the same incon tinence as
afflicted the majority of the cousins and house helps in our house .
One morn ing we looked out, attracted by the sounds of the fam i liar
stick-on-can beat within the parsonage itself. The sound came from
the bookseller's compound and we soon made out the words:
T(?(>le , Toole, a foko 1t9 bori
Suiile uiile foko niidi

And then she came in sigh t . The offending mat was rolled and borne
on her head , the procession went from house to house where a stop
was made and the girl had to dance her dance of shame. At each
house , Mrs B gestured and the music stopped briefly:
' Look at her. Sixteen and she still wets the mat like a newly-born . I
' Home, Home
The elder has gone home
Directly
The elder has gone home
Home is he bound. he will not miss his way.
Bed-wetter, bed-wetter,
With a piss-pot for a head-cover
Excretes on the mat and cleans her anus with fibre .

87

don ' t know what to do with her Auntie, I just don ' t know what to do
with her. She is old enough to be preparing for the matrimonial
home , but is she to go there with wet mat and coverlet? Look at the
ungainly, gormless, unprepossessing object. In any case, who is going
to look at it and want to put it in the house ? She doesn ' t even seem
to know that the market for husbands is not open to such as it . . .
Shut u p ! ' Down came the whip on the blu bbering mess , about her
shoulders. back, then legs making her skip. so that without any
further prompting . the orchestral jangle was resumed to the skipping
of her feet.
.
' Did I ask you to blu bber? Dance , atoo' le! You real ly think
anyone is i m pressed with all t hat crying? Come on , sing out! Those
fit to be your children are drumm ing for you , they stopped pissing i n
their beds ages ago. But you have n o sham e , so dance when they beat
for you . '
How long i t lasted depended on the stam ina of the guardian , or on
a chance meeting with a capable pleader, at home or on the street.
When they came to our house , Wild Christian stood and watched
un til she j udged that M rs B was ready for appeasement. Then she
stopped the dru m m ing and singing beckoned to the maid to come
nearer.
' Is this a good thing for you ? ' she demanded .
The maid appeared to be confused, or maybe she did not even
hear the question . M rs B raised the wh i p . ' I th i n k she has gone deaf
and dum b . Let me open up her ears a little . '
Wild Christian gestured restraint. Mrs B let fal l her arm and the
admonition was resumed :
' Is this a good thing for you ? A t your age, to be paraded through
the streets l i ke this. A g rown woman, still wetting her mat, is this
good? That is what I asked you . '
' No , rna, it is not good . '
' SPEA K UP! '
The m aid ski pped i n antici pation and found her long-distance
voice. ' No rna, it is not good . It is not a good thing . '
' Good . But do you know that this i s all for your own good? That
you are being helped so that you will not go and disg race yourself
elsewhere ? '
' Yes rn a , I know i t i s for m y own good . '
' Are you going to make an effort to change ? '
' I will change rn a . B y God ' s power I promise t o change. '
88

The exchange lasted a while, ending with a short sermon . Wild

Christian then turned to M rs B. ' took the rest of the punishment on
herself. ' M rs B . cunsied , the maid knelt fully on the ground and said
her thanks, the u rch ins had begun to d rift away. knowing that the
fun had ended . I watched Mrs B and maid. the former leading, walk
back in the silence that had descended once more on the parsonage
and wondered if the maid was still going to wet her mat that nigh t .
Lawan le said the treatment always worked , but only i f i n addition .
she roasted the egg-nest of the praying mantis and ate i t . Lawanle
claimed to have m ade a particular cousin eat at least a dozen egg
nests of the prayi ng mantis plus a special potion prepared accord ing
to the recipe of an old woman at Ibarapa. She had used it successfully
for her own cure several years before . A l l of them were agreed that at
home Wild Christ ian was doing it all wrong. Send ing the offenders
supperless to bed was not going to solve anything; they only ate more
during their last meal, wh ich was not perm itted later than five in the
evening. And anyway who could keep an eye on them throughout to
make sure they didn ' t drink water to shore up their bedtime hunger?
It was a matter for the baba/awo and he, Lawanle insisted , would
probably prescribe the very method employed by M rs B .
Mrs B , when s h e brought h e r road-show t o o u r house, had actually
succeeded in redeem ing herself i n my eyes. One did not have to look
closely to see that she actually pul led her blows with the whip. If I
was in any doubt about i t , one look at Wi ld Christian confirmed it:
she was plainly am used by what Mrs B considered corrective lashes . In
any case, she knew M rs B . If Wild Christian had been wielding the
wh i p . that maid would not have skipped . she would have leapt out of
her skin and continued danc ing even when asked to stop.
In a sim ilar spectacle where the offence was more serious, such as
stealing, the urch ins were encouraged to participate in whipping the
culprit. Steal ing meat from a soup-pot was considered particularly
heinous, though why, I cou ld not understand . If the thief, when
caught , had already swallowed the evidence of his crime, he was
made to carry the soup-pot on his head , and his mouth was smeared
with oil from the pot . The outing could go on day after day after day.
The complainants never seemed to have enough . such was the
outrage of these sou p-pot guardians. I thought , after all he has eateR
the meat, no amount of dancing and flogging would bring it back.

' Oraclepriest; diviner.

89

And a piece of meat always seemed too small and insignificant to

conjure u p the number of people who turned out on parade. As Wild
Christian prepared dinner that evening while we hung around
fetc hi ng and hold ing for her, conversation rurned to rhe morning's
exhibi tion . Wild Christian threatened sim i lar cu res for our own mat
wetters and other types of m iscreants . Because she expected it, she
read d isapproval on my face.
' Wole is planning to dip his hand in the pot , that 's why he
d i sapproves . '
I den ied that I disapproved .
'Or maybe he has been doing it already, only we haven ' t caught
hi m . '
' I f you caught him he would lawyer his way our , ' Joseph warned .
' Nor with m e , ' Wild Christ ian prom ised . ' I t ' s his fat her who has
all rhar patience . When I clobber h i m as he opens his mouth he
would soon discover I don ' t stand for any nonsense . '
' A nyway . ' contributed a cousi n . 'Wole is more l i kely ro steal
toffee or sugar or powdered milk. oval r ine and t h i ngs l i ke that . '
I glared a challenge ar rhar cousin . His face betrayed noth ing bur I
wondered what he knew. Obviously not h ing . By now he would have
blackmai led me if he had known that I had been d i pping regularly
into the rin of Lactogen . After Dipo was weaned and had begun to
ear solids. the big tin of Lactogen lay in a corner of t he pantry.
forgonen . I had developed a passion for the powdered del icacy, it
seemed the most exquisite taste in the world, soft , melry. light on the
tongue . It was nor merel y a quest ion of stealing a handful at a time; I
had appropriated rhe ent i re tin wh ich nobody remem bered . secreted
it among or her bric-a- brac in rhe pantry. from where it emerged from
r i me to r ime to sat isfy my craving.
It was ar least a month later before the tin was discovered , bur by
then nobody knew how much had remained in ir in the one year or
more si nce it was last opened. If I had nor been so desperately
hooked , I would have known rhar Wild Christian would be
suspicious of irs long disappearance and wou ld keep watch on the
level of powder it contai ned . Her suspicions were soon confirmed , so
she sum moned everyone, asked questions and issued a general
warn ing. That should have been sufficien t . It was nor only that she
was on the war-path, she was clearly planning someth ing exemplary
for the foolhardy th ief whenever he was caught . Perhaps she already
knew the milk-th ief and knew rhat it was now a habi t . Inspired
90

guesses came mysteriously to Wild Christian . But I was hooked . Sti l l ,

a week passed before I abandoned all further resistance, watched the
physical disposition of everybody else and homed on the t i n . Wild
Christian whom I had last seen prepari ng vegetables further up the
yard , opened the pantry-door a little and nodded :
' Good . So it's you . I thought so . I ' ve al ways known it . '
I believed her. Normally she would by then have drowned out the
external world with a barrage of blows. Th is time she was unusually
cal m . And she visi bly gloated as if a long-awaited moment had been
reached . Her self-satisfaction bothered me, it appeared to go beyond
the cri me. Again I had the uneasy feeling that I had foolishly walked
into a trap.
' We wi ll wait until your father comes. When he has finished with
you , you wi ll then come and eat my own punishment. '
Alone in the pantry, I began to plan to run away. It was not just a
question of getting caught , there was something much too pat about
the whole act , as if everyone had been waiting for just this moment
and had in some way, played a small role in bringing it about . One
thing was not going to happen: I was not providing a spectacle for
anyone . neither within the parsonage nor on the streets of A ke. Once
again I was struck with the disproportionate attention paid to a tin of
powdered milk whose existence had long been forgotten . I had
placed it under my personal protection for nearly two months and
had grown to regard it as my private booty. My mind was made u p ; I
would run away, first em ptying the Lactogen on the floor as a final
protest.
I moved furtively from the pantry to the bedroom , to the front
room where most of my books were, packed them into a small bag
and awaited the right moment to escape. Essay returned from school
and , as I expected , Wild Christian i mmediately ensconced herself with
him in his room to report the terrible discovery. It was the right
moment, and I ti p-toed through the parlour and into the front
roo m . A moment later and I would have gone . but the voices were
com ing out loud and clear from the bedroom and I hesitated,
then settled down to listen. My mother was evidently d ispleased
that Essay would not personally deal with the offence. I heard him
grumble,
' You should have flogged him. Why bother me?'
I heard her reply, ' Bu t he must have fi n ished half that tin. I
remember very wel l what level it was when I last used it for Oipo. It
91

was very nearly ful l . I had just opened it before he lost all interest in
milk or anything l ike that . '
Unperturbed , Essay insisted , 'Then punish him for the whole tin. I
still don ' t understand why you did n ' t just beat h i m on the spot . '
Wild Christian knew when she was getting nowhere . She whirled
out of the room so fast that I had just enough time to fling the bag
over the lower-door on to the pavement outside. As she hauled m e
into t h e backyard with h e r , a l l I could t h i n k of was t h e tell-tale
bundle lying on the fron t pavemen t , containing my favourite books
and clothing. She shouted for her stick and even before its arrival I
found myself leaping about the backyard , dodging wild blows from
fist and feet , felled by some and rolling with others . Till the last
moment, I kept fearing, and hoping that she would attempt to
transfer the event outside our own backyard; in my mind I rehearsed
the swift movement down , the bundle of my possessions snatched up
and then -a continuous run thro ugh the parsonage, through the
streets, heading nowhere but everywhere, away from a household
whose subtle hosti lities had begun to prickle my skin. I now blamed
the entire household for my banishment from Essay's room . Of the
many strange thoughts which crowded my m i nd u nder the beating
was one which claimed with complete assurance that I was being
proved righ t , I had for long suspected that my place was no longer in
that house. The certainty simply came and stayed with a host of
others. They crowded my head without any particular order, without
any attem pt to resolve themselves , probably simply to help me forget
the actual pain of the beating. Only, they proved far more painful
than the blows. By the time it was over I had decided that it would be
best to pursue my original p lans, p ick up my bundle and seek my
fortune away from the parsonage .
When I sneaked out later, not m uc h later, the bundle was gone.
Joseph h ad found it, had picked it up and restored its contents where
they belonged . I did not know what to make of h is action after h e
admitted t o it, b u t it seemed a natural t h i n g for h i m to have done.
That same night, when the whole house was asleep and Wild
Christian was shaking the roof with her snores, I t ip-toed into the
pantry , fil led my mouth with powdered milk. In another second I
was back on the mat. In the dark, I let the powder melt, dissolve
slowly and slide down the back of my throat in small doses . In the
morning I felt no pain whatsoever from the pounding of the previous
eventng.
92

VII
Change was i m possible to predict . A tempo, a mood would have set
led over the house, over guests, relations, casual visitors poor
relations, 'cousi ns' , strays-all recognized withi n a tangi ble pattern
of feel ing-and then it would happen ! A small event or, more
frequently , nothing happened at all , nothing t hat I coul d notice
much less grasp and-suddenl y it all changed ! The famil iar faces
looked and acted differently. Features appeared where they had not
been, vanished where before they had become inseparable from our
existence. Every human being with whom we came i n contact, Tinu
and I, would CHANGE! Even Tinu changed , and I began to wonder
if l also changed , without knowing it, the same as everybody else.
' If I begin to change, you will tell me won ' t you ? '
S h e sai d , ' What are you talking about ? '
' Haven't you noticed? Joseph, Lawanle, Nubi , everybody is
changing. Papa and M ama have changed. Even Mr A delu has
changed . '
M r Adelu was one o f our most frequent visitors. Com pared with
some others, there was noth i ng remarkable about him . Th is made i t
a l l the worse that M r Adelu should change. From the bookseller now,
I expected no better.
But occasionall y , I did detect the cause . The birth of Dipo brought
about such a CHANGE, i ndeed, it began long before his arrival .
There was nothing whatever to remark about Wild Christian , who
was then anything but wild, except that she had begun to bulge. I
could not then tell whether she ate a lot or not , but it appeared
normal that grown-ups should grow in wh ichever direction suited
them . I hoped myself to grow some day towards my father's heigh t ,
but I was i n n o hurry about i t . What was curious was that Essay
appeared to change far more-in his habits-than Wild Christian
who simply bulged and bulged . Still, a howl ing brother, endowed
with superabundant energy appeared at t he end of that change , and
somehow that explained all that had gone before . Essay' s worried
looks disappeared , to be replaced by endless smiles and chuckles. The
93

house appeared to loosen up in every way. Visitors streamed into the

house and I sought the refuge ofJonah more and more to escape the
noisy changes.
The changes someti mes were mundane, domestic. The parlour
furn iture would suddenly affect Wild Christian in some way and
then it would vanish, only to re-appear in a new arrangemen t . The
interven ing hours wou ld be spent hunting bed-bugs which had made
a home in the parlour cushions. Seams of the cushion -covers were
carefully explored , a needle was heated over a candle and then-a
sizzling sound, the end of a bed-bug. Next, to fi nd their eggs, brush
the flame l ightly over them and hear them g ive off brief crackles,
dull explosions, end ing in a charred spot. When the arm-chairs and
the drink stools went back, a CHA NGE had taken place . Some never
went bac k , demoted to the store-house in the upper backyard or to
the front-room where visi tors first rested , while Essay was summoned.
Even the imm utable homil ies , embroidered , framed and glazed
would be transposed around the wal ls. I looked up expecting to see
REMEM BER NOW THY CREATOR IN THE DAYS OF THY
YOUTH only to fi nd EBENEZER : HITHERTO H ATH THE LORD
HELPED US.
Sometimes. the nail from which the homily was hung had merely
been moved a foot or two towards or away from the front-room . The
consequences were serious. It mean t that Essay could no longer be
seen reflected long in advance of his arrival home, from the moment
when he stepped through the door of the pri mary school on to the
broad path that led almost straight down to the gate of the par
sonage. He was visible until two-thirds way down the pat h , when
:-,e was picked up by HONOUR THY FATHER AND THY
MOTHER-this was the moment to abandon all mischief. Within
the house itself, REMEMBER NOW THY CREATOR picked up his
reflection as he emerged from the bedroom , the ageless curtains
flapping. Th is put an end to whatever we were doi ng wrong at m eal
time in the dini ng-room . We often studied i n the front-room , where
the material that really held our interest was quickly hidden in the
desk the moment Essay , having fi nished his gardening in the
backyard appeared within THE LORD IS M Y SHEPHERD. sui tably
surrounded by the crotons that grew in profusion just outside the
dining-room window. The framed homil ies were a lifesaver and we
worked hard to restore them to their spying functions. Unable to
tamper with the nail i tself, we resorted to tilting the frame , shor94

ten ing the cord on one side or placing clumps of the nest of a home
wasp behind the frame. ';he piece of dried mud, if discovered , would
evoke no surprise, as wasps built their nests in the cei l i ngs where they
remained umil someone fel t an incli nation to prise them off.
There was the CHANGE in sleeping arrangements. Not m i ne
alone. Sudden ly everyone was banished from Wild Christi an ' s
bedroom . The parlour became the new bedroom ; chairs were moved
aside, the centre-table was placed in the corner. mats were spread out
and pillows placed in position for those who used them . At n ight
Essay had to pick his way through the sprawl ing bodies to get a drink
of water. That was a pleasant change. There was a lot more room in
the parlour and one no longer woke up with his nose pressed against
a sack of black-eyed beans.
The CHANGES sometimes came from reports. Even without
mean i ng to eavesdrop , it was nearly i m possi ble not to l isten to
conversations going on in any pan of the house . Visitors came.
spoke. argued or cajoled. sought something from or offered
something to Essay. usually Essay . but sometimes also Wild
Christian. Some were total strangers; they came within H M 's orbit
once and disappeared for ever. Yet they took away with them a pan
of those mot ions of reliance, accustomed gestures, codes and con
fidences which secured us within the walls of HM's ho me. Im
perceptible at fi rst , we found that atten tion had been withdrawn
from or was now being trained on some of us. There was a new
language to be learnt, a new physical relationship in th ings and
people. Once or twice, I felt that the entire household was about to
prepare for a journey . to be uprooted from A ke in its enti rety. Yet no
one could tell me where to. how or why, and we never moved .
Yet . even CH A NGE often acted inconsistently. Until the binh of
Folasade, I had bel ieved that Change was somet hing that one or
more of the household caught , then discarded -l i ke Temperature.
Folasade's was permanent. She came after Dipo; unlike h i m , she was
a quiet child. And then , from morning till nigh t , she cried . rolled
about in her cot , and kept the whole house awake. She did not reject
food outright but ate with great difficulty. We could see the effort in
her eyes, barely ten months old. When we reached for her hand
through the railings of the cot . she clutched the offered fi nger with
all her st rength, holding on . Then suddenly she would twitch . her
eyes changed as the pain washed over them , she began to cry all over
agam .
95

Our parents spent hours in Essay's bedroom ; we could hear them

talking but could make out no words. They spoke very softly. The
maid was sent for, questioned . Her voice was clear enoug h , whatever
she was being asked , she den ied . She was vehement, cal led on God
to wi mess . She repeated over and over again ' Nothing happened ,
nothing happened at all sir. ' She came out of the bedroom , her face
set , aggrieved by false suspicion or accusat ion.
Folasadc was taken to hospital . She went in the morn ing and did
not return until late afternoon . Her little trunk was encased in plaster
from beneath the arm-pits to her buttocks. Wild Christian carried
her, not on her back, but in her arms, wrapped up in a shawl .
She sti ll cried from time to time. But many n ights she merely lay
awake. I got up from the mat, knelt by the cot and looked into the
silent pools of her eyes. She did not appear to acknowledge me. Day
after day Folasade lay on her back, was brought out to be fed ,
changed , then returned to her cot or increasingly on to our mother's
bed , propped with pillows on both sides. She was so still that the
pillows seemed superfluous. Folasade sim ply lay sti l l and stared at the
cei l ing.
One day, I came on the maid sitting by herself, cryi ng. I had
noticed for some time that she was to be found more and more by
herself. The others would not talk to her. I saw a plate of food beside
her, untouched . When I asked her what was the matter she
frightened me by a sudden in tensi fication of her weeping so that it
took a long time before I made out that she was actually saying
between sobs:
'I swear I did not drop her. I swear by God I did not drop her any
time. I looked after her, at no time did she drop from my hands, I
swear.
She was seated on the steps which led to the store-room of the
Upper Backyard , overlooked by one of the windows of mother's
bedroom . I now heard that window being opened . When I looked up
there was the face of Wild Christian ; never before or since then
would I see such a concentration of grief and rage all at once as she
stared straight at the weeping maid. The window had been flung
open , there was nothing furtive about it. I saw then that she m ust
have heard the maid, had been keeping her eye on the girl . What
made her decide to confront her, even silently, just then . could have
been the sound of my voice. The maid looked up and saw her. Her
rears dried instantly.
.

96

Later that evening. the maid was summoned agai n . This t ime the
quest ioning took hours. Before it was over, I had fallen asleep . By the
morn ing the maid was g'lne , she and her luggage.
So were Essay and Wild Christian . So was Folasade. Whatever they
finally extracted from the girl had sent them straight back to the
Catholic hospital at Ita Pad i . There was li ttle gaiety in the home
during their absence, only anxiety. The maid 's departure, the
disappearance of both parents with the baby foretold some
momentous development but we d1d not know what it was. It was
Joseph who revealed that the maid had packed her th ings that night
and been escorted out of the house by h i m , on Essay's instructions.
Where they had gone with the baby he did not know, bur he had
looked over rhe wall under wh ich they passed and, the direction
suggested the hospital at Ita Pad i .
There was no change in Folasade 's appearance when they returned ,
no change whatever in her motions when she was placed in her cot .
Wild Christian spent more and more rime in Essay 's room even when
he was at school . She simply lay in bed or was on her knees . p raying.
She prayed a lot .
One morning. her motions appeared somewhat more purposefu l
than before. A man whom we knew simply as Carpenter-he had his
workshop at the corner of the road along our churchside wall-came
into the house with a small wooden box, square-shaped. My father
took it into Wild Christian 's bedroom .
Through the door, I heard her say, ' I think the children should see
her first , don ' t you ? '
There was a brief, m u m bled discussion , and then we were sum
moned.
Folasade was laid our in a long wh ite dress which covered her
plaster and stretched over her feet. Her eyes were closed and she was
just as still as she had been for several weeks past . I looked at Tinu
who stood there im passively. Wild Christian stood by, a sad sweet
smile on her face, saying things which I could not understan d . only
that we were not to feel sad about anything, because Folasade was
now our of pai n . ' You see, she does not suffer any more . '
Again I looked at Ti n u . I expected her to do o r say something.
most ly do something, after al l she was the elder. Bur Ti nu kept her
eyes on the body. looked once slowly at both parents, then turned to
continue her m ute , expressionless study of our sister.
Sudden ly. it al l broke up within me. A force from nowhere pressed
97

.
me agamst the bed and I howled . As I was picked up I muggled
against my father's soot hing voice. tears all over me. I was sucked
i n w a plal"e of loss whose cause or defin ition remained elusive. I did
not com prehend it yet . and even through those tears I saw t he
aswnished face of Wild Christ ian , and heard her voice saying.
' But whar does he understand of i t ? What does he understand ? '
There was n o CHA NGE after Folasade's departure , none
whatever . I dai ly expected a cataclysm of unthinkable proportions
but it never happened. If the house had picked i tself up by the roots
and floated skywards. I wo uld have shown no surprise , but nothing
happened The normality was al most overbearing and I began to
suspect a conspiracy between our parems to ensure t hat this t ime
when CHANGE would be so reasonable, even necessary. it did not
happen
As if it did not maner. as if it signified not hing at all that Folasade
had not only died . but had chosen to go on her very first birthday.
The fl i msier st ructures of A ke . built of unbaked mud could not stand
up w the rains of July and Aug ust . The corrugated iron sheets were
penetrated by the wind which ripped t hem off. fl ung t hem over
other roofs , leaving the rain to fi nd the weakest poim in the walls,
dissolve the mud and fl ush out the household. But someti mes the
rain acted first; it found the crack in t he thin cemem coating. soaked
it to i ts foundations, then the house col lapsed on i ts i nmates. A wet ,
sh ivering survivor, a growing pool about his feet, stood in the from
room and wid the tale of disaster. He was escorted w the back room .
stripped while Essay rummaged in his trunks for some old clothing
and Wild Christian prepared a steam i ng mug of tea , almost treacly
with sugar and m i l k , and a chunk of white bread l i beral ly spread wi th
butter.
A l t hough the house had crashed in A ke i tself, far from the par
sonage, tht agbara which flowed past our raised pavement now
brought with it all t he debris of t hat house , and the faces of i ts
victims one after the other. Smoke-caked rafters jostled with
medicine bottles, a c hamber pot followed , astride i t was a child's
dol l , white, blue-eyed and flaxen-haired . She sat with one leg
slightly raised and one arm poin ted to the sky.
M rs Adetunmbi came all the way from l kerek u . disconsolate. Even
in the front-room she ran from spot w spo t , wri nging her shawl .
i ndeed her motion was closer to anempting w wash her hands in the
98

shawl . ' E gba m i , e gba m i ' . . . she said that she was going to
fetch firewood , she hasn ' t been back . The rains stopped over four
hou rs ago but still she is not yet back . . . e gba m i o, Headmaster,
e gba mi . . . '

But what do you want Headmaster to do? The rains may have
stopped but the agbara is still rushing and swelling. Mama, I have
just seen the face ofyour daughter floating past our doorstep; I did
nothing to stop her.
' Where are you going ? ' Wild Christian opened the window as I
sneaked past .
'Only to the school compound . '
'To do what ? '
'To pick some guavas. They ' l l be plenty o n the ground after this
ram .
'Tell Bunmi t o go. You wi ll only catch a cold . '
' She can ' t . It's my guava tree . '
' A re you mad ? ' Wild Christian nearly exploded . ' I said you are
going nowhere. Come back here! '
I returned , stood with my legs apart. She continued to stare, so I
put my hands beh i nd my back.
' Did you hear what I said . '
' I heard , Ma. I was return ing to read m y book . '
' A nd what do you say when you are talked to? '
' Yes , Ma. '
A long baleful glare. 'Take yourself out of my sight . '
' Yes, Ma. '
I caught Bunmi as she came out of the back gate . 'If you touch my
guava tree, their iwin will visit you at nigh t . '
' Go away , you see you don ' t even know anything about spirits. I t
i s oro which l ives in trees, not iwin. '
'Just touch the tree and see who is right . I ' ve warned you . '
' You are only jealous because Mama wouldn ' t let you go and pick
the guava. '
' Even the ones on the ground , I warn you . Touch them and you ' ll
see.
When she returned , she reponed my threats to Wild Christian .
Later that evening at din ner, I saw her glance at me from time to
time. When Essay had fi n ished his meal . she announced quite
loudly , looking at me all the wh ile,
.

Save me. save me .

99

' I ' l l come with you now to discuss . . .

Essay grunted , ' Oh , all right . '
Bunmi jabbed her finger i n the direction of m y nose. ' Now we
shall see who is going to chop that stick tonigh t . '
' For what ? What offence did I com m i t ? '
' Stubborn . When I told her what you said s h e said you were
getting too stu bborn . She said she was going to tell Papa . '
' For telling her. both the iwin and oro will get you tonight . '
I went to the from-room t o read , expected the sum mons t o come
any t i me. I found I did not much worry about i t .
' What are you staring at ? '
' Your nose . '
' I shall tell Mama you have been rude agai n . '
'One can only be rude t o one 's elders. Who d o you think you are?'
' Rudeness is rudeness. Mama says we are to report you if you are
ever rude agai n . '
' Did I abuse you ? ' I demanded .
Bunmi stared at me, the same look of puzzlement came into her
eyes. ' What is the matter with you Wole? Why do you want to
quarrel with everybody?'
' Leave me alone . '
But they would not . Acting on i nstructions i t seemed , but they
simply would not . A lone , Bu kola suited my mood . I escaped to the
bookseller's as often as I could. Bukola knew how to be silent. Even
when she spoke, she transm itted a world of silence i nto which I
fitted . She picked up pebbles and weighed them in her hands,
thoughtfully. She ate as if she ate with other people. I watched her
intently, seeki ng something that would answer barely formed
questions. She glided over the earth like a being who barely deigned
to accommodate the presence of others. With her, I found some
peace.
I always knew when Wild Ch ristian was going to discuss me with
Essay , it very simply transm itted i tself to me on a wave of hostil ity. I
would not hest itate, I went and eavesdropped. Sometimes it was
Ti nu who came to call me. At other times Nubi or Joseph would
inform m e , gleefully, as if to terrify me. I strolled casually past them .
then wen t and pin ned my ear to the curtai n .
' It i s n o t new , ' Wild Christian was saying . ' h e has always tended to
brood . '
1 00

'Then there is nothing to worry abou t . '

' Bu t it is not health y . It i s not natural in a child. When h e had
only Tinu for a playmate it wasn ' t too bad. But for some years now
he has tended to wander off by h imself. A nd now this . . . '
' I f it has to do with Folasade.' counselled Essay. ' It will wear off. '
' And then spending so much time alone with you . That real ly cut
him off the rest of the family . '
' So I am now to blame . . . '
' I wasn't blaming you dear. I am j ust trying to see that we must n ' t
encourage h i m a n y more. Especially as it i s making h i m headstrong . '
' I hadn't noticed h e was headstrong . '
' You are away most o f t he time , you don ' t notice . A n d o f course
these children won ' t come to you and tell you . '
I t would end with Essay promising to watch me more closely.
' We must take him out of h imself. ' my mother persisted .
' Al l right, all right . '
The Odufuwa came t o visit, b u t i t only lifted m y spirits a little .
M rs Odufuwa was quite simply and without dispute from any but the
blindest man with the coarsest sensibilities. t he most beautiful
woman in the world . I bore her husband no grudge. after al l , he was
m y godfather, so he should prove no obstacle to m y marrying this
goddess once I had grown to manhood . I fol lowed her about as she
strolled in the garden with her husband.
She had nicknames for everyone for she could not , as a ' wife' of
the house. call us children by name. at least not those who were born
into the house before she became a wife of the fam ily. And so Tinu
was 'Obinrin Jeje' , the gentle woman-which I considered a most
observant choice , and it only confirmed M rs Odufuwa's cleverness. I
came next , and I was Lagilagi . the Log-Splitter. Before I cou ld even
wield a vegetable knife . I had i nsisted on helping Joseph with the
splitting of fi rewood, employi ng an axe . The goddess had observed
me at my exertions, and the name stuck. Hitler's world power thrust
had just begun to percolate to us. The German race had acquired a
fearsome, bell icose reputation-it was inevitable, Dipo could only
acquire one name-Jamani !
The goddess and her husband were moving leisurely through the
flowers; I fol lowed them . Joseph was in the vici n ity, preparing logs
for chopping. Wild Christian was somewhere on the periphery. I
simply followed . stopped when Odufuwa }topped . touched the roses
at the stal k where she had briefly sniffed them . brushed the croton
101

with my hand where her sleeve had brushed . Then from nowhere
came Jamani to ruin it al l , not so much walki ng as preen ing and
turning cartwheels. leaping out in front, falling behind only to re
emerge far ahead of t he evening strollers. I watched his antics with an
older brother's indulgent amusement.
M rs Odu fuwa turned rou nd, looked at me and said, ' Lagilagi, I
understand you work as hard on these . flowers as your father. '
I savoured the momen t , rolling the sound of her voice all over
again through my head . Then came Joseph ' s jarring voice saying,
' Which Lagilag i ? You shouldn ' t call him that name again Madam.
He cannot Ia anything. He is so lazy he can ' t move a fly off his nose
until it has begun to produce maggots . '
First , I wondered how Joseph . a Ben i n , had suddenly picked u p
such earthy Yoruba argot. H e was kobokobo . still spoke Yoruba
with his individual quaintness even after several years with us. Yet
there he was tongue-bashing me in true Yoruba market style without
any strai n . And for no reason . I stared at h i m . open-mouthed.
'Is that true. my Lagilag i ? '
Dipo came bounding in view and Joseph pointed a t h i m . ' Look at
his brother, al most three years his junior. He is far tougher than the
one you ' ve named Lagilag i . I bet Dipo can already lift that axe and
split wood with it. '
I moved forward without one moment's hesitat ion , lifted the axe
and stuck it in a nearby log .
Then W i l d Christian joined i n . ' A l l h e does is sneak off into
corners by himself-reading. always read ing. He pretends to be busy
with books because he cannot tackle anything else . '
I was hurt. What had I done ? Why did they try t o reduce me in the
eye of my future wife? I looked from one to the other and they were
grinning . laughing at me.
Nubi emerged from nowhere. Something was building up.
someth i ng prepared outside of me, yet I was at the centre of it. Nubi
now said .
' If he sees a fight he will run . He cries when he is touched as if
everyone wants to beat him . ' She sniggered . ' H m , who wants to
commit murder? If you touch h i m he will faint, then die altogether
of fright. Me? No thank you , let him run under the sk i ns of his
books. '
Rude expression for those who do no! speak the local language.

102

Who were they talking about. I wondered . Everyth i ng said around

me sounded like the findi ngs of a serious study . so they could only be
talking about someone and of specific deeds, or non-deeds. Th'a t
someone appeared to be me yet I could not recognize myself i n what
they said. Joseph suddenly stopped D ipo m id-somersaul t and held
him . turned his head to face me:
' I bet Dipo can give him a thorough beating . '
' Of course h e can , ' said Wild Christian. ' He ' l l beat him until he
begs for mercy . '
M y only concern was to see what Mrs Odufuwa was making of this.
Did she believe any of i t ? She stood with her husband beside the
dwarf guava tree with a puzzled sm ile on her face. and I only thought
how unfair it was to subject her to such an unbecoming spectacle.
Nubi suggested , 'Why don ' t we see for ourselves? Dipo will beat
h im soundly . '
Dipo , never one to resist any invitation to action , began t o square
his l ittle fists . He struck a fighting pose and leapt from side to side i n
a war-dance a l l h is own creat ion . I had never seen such excitement o n
h is face! Cheers rang o u t from a l l sides while I stood l i mply .
patronizingly amused by his antics. He was like a gnom e , so frisky
and so fu ll of joy at being alive and among attentive grown-ups. But
then , with no warn ing at al l , only the sound of Joseph 's ' Come on
Dipo , show h i m , ' this compact little creature launched himself at
me, fists flying. I was borne backwards by the sheer weigh t of the
charge and could no longer separate the differen t causes of the
nngtng m my ears.
From far distances I heard voices, protests, admonitions. Time had
passed , how much time I did not know. There was a period of total
empti ness in which I remem bered nothing. only a storm of rage in
my veins. But now I fel t hands under my arms, strong hands,
desperate , even trembling hands under my arms against which I
struggled with equal desperation . Then I recog n ized Joseph 's voice:
' Wole, o to . o to ? Do you want to kill h i m ? ' spoken with h is
quaint Ben i n accent.
And Wild Christ ian ' s voice, more soothing and disturbed than I
had ever heard i t , ' Wole. we were only teasing you . You should have
remem bered that he is only your junior brother. Ah ah. whatever i t
was , you shou ld not have got violent w1th h im . '
Enough, 1ha1 will do.

1 03

The skies fell on me. I shivered so violently that Wild Christian put
her hand on my forehead and looked anxious. I n the background
were Dipo's howls . He had been carried i nto the d i n ing-room where
he was now being consoled with sweets and frui t juice. Wild
Christian turned her head towards the sound and once again , a
strange look came into her eyes. There was such deep pain and
confusion , t here was fright also , I thought. Anyway it was a different
mother from whatever it was I last saw in her.
' Bu t why ? ' she repeated, more to herself. ' It was all a joke. Did
you want to kill h i m ? He's only a baby you know, you shouldn't have
taken h i m so seriousl y . '
Dipo ' s howls had gone down , and Joseph came out . It could have
been my i magination , but I felt that he deliberately gave me a wide
bert h . His words however left him i n no doubt about how he felt . To
ensure t hat he was at h is most cutting, he did not even design to
address me directl y ; i ndeed I now understood why he had cut such a
wide curve around me. ' I suppose , ' he said to no one i n part icular,
'the big brother i s feeling p leased with himself. I don ' t even know
why we bothered . We should have let him kill his own brother,
wh ich was what he wanted . ' He let out a deliberately prolonged h iss ,
' Shee-aaw? Some people don ' t even know how to conduct them
selves as elders . '
Wild Christ ian shushed h i m , but I saw n o difference i n both t heir
attitudes. I was overwhelmed by only one fact-there was neither
justice nor logic in the world of grown-ups . I had i m agined that I was
the aggrieved one . What did occur I still was not sure of, beyond the
fact that I had come to being violently prised off a squawking bundle
that was my brother. But I also recol lected clearly enough that I had
not provoked the situation. I had joined the others in enjoying the
clowning of Dipo- until he launched h imself at me l i ke a rocket .
Where was I at faul t ? Still , I was faced with the fact-the entire world
was u n i ted in finding me guilty of attempted fratricide, and there
was nowhere I could seek redress.
Whatever it was all about , it was enough for Wild Christian to
exert herself to make me understand something in con nection with
the episode . A fter the normal evening prayers she called me into the
bedroom and , as she usually did over any trivial to critical problem
with a ch i l d , made me kneel and pray especially with her. Then she
spoke to me. There were warn ings on the dangers of allowing the
devil to come between one and his natural love and care for the rest
1 04

of the family. h was so easy to be possessed by the devi l , she said. The
phrase, emi esu occurred repeated ly and I really began to wonder if I
had not truly become possessed by the soul of the devil . There was
that ' black-out' period of which I remem bered little.
Dipo was a favourite of both Tinu and m e . H is energy and humour
left us constantly entertained. Moreover, he was considered not yet
old enough for pu nishment , so we foisted on him many of our own
m isch iefs. He was always ready to own up to breaking a vase which
Tinu or I had knocked down in a fight or adm i t to leaving a door ajar
which let in the goats. Later, as he became wiser, he demanded
payment for his services-a piece of meat , a toffee or an extra piece of
yam . He became so adept at extracting payment-preferably i n
advance-that we decided that he would end u p i n charge o f Wild
Christian 's shop and be gaoled for profiteering. Could that Dipo
have angered me so much that I no longer knew what I was doing?
The thought was deeply alarming.
From Joseph and the others I eventually gathered that I continued
h i tting him long after he was down , crying, and beyond defending
h imself. I denied this heatedly. But then , there was that emi esu
which Wild Christian tried to exorcise with her constant prayers;
could th is reall y take a child over without his k nowing? If only there
was a way of sensing when one was being taken over, one could take
necessary precautions. I had long lost faith in the efficacy of Wild
Christian's prayers. There were several of her wards over whom she
prayed n ight and day. She took them i nto the church and p rayed
over them , found any excuse, any opportunity at all to drag them
before the altar and pray over them . They continued to steal , lie,
fight or do whatever i t was she prayed against . The scale of such
perversity , it seemed , must be beyond the remedy of prayers si nce the
two h ad the entire church to themselves and God was not being
distracted by other voices from that same direction. I had no doubt
that prayers worked for Wild Christian herself, she seemed to thrive
on it and she claimed her p rayers were always answered . h was
different for the rest of us who had al lowed entry to emi esu , and
there was little even she could do about i t .
I resolved t o guard against it i n t h e future , at least, t o guard
against what seemed a kind of blacked-out violence. And i ndeed , a
"
less distressing explanation surfaced i n my mind: that I had m e rely
lashed out against the whole world of tormentors and that Dipo had
been unlucky to time his war-dance for that moment . There was
105

another solace . I waited with some anxiety for the moment when
Essay would be given a report of the event , but he never was. On the
contrary I obtained a distinct feeling that every care was taken to
ensure that he was kept in ignorance of what had occurred .

106

VIII
Workmen came into the house . They knocked lines of thin n ails with
narrow clasps i nto wal ls. The l i nes turned with corners and doorwars
and joi ned up with outside wires which were strung across poles. The
presence of these workmen rem inded me of another invasion . At the
end of those earl ier activi ties we no longer needed the oil -lamps.
kerosene lanterns and candles , at least not within the house. We
pressed down a switch and the room was flooded with ligh t . Essay ' s
i nstructions were strict-only he. o r Wild Christian could give the
order for the pressing of those switches. I recalled that it took a while
to con nect the phenomenon of the glowi ng bulb with the switch . so
thoroughly did Essay keep up the deception . He pretended it was
magic, he easily directed our gaze at the gl ass bulb while he m uttered
his magic spell. Then he solemn ly i n toned :
' Let there be ligh t . '
A fterwards h e blew i n the direct ion o f the bul b and the light went
out .
But finally, we caught him out . It was not too difficult to notice
that he always stood at the same spot, that that spot was conveniently
near a smal l white-and-black object wh ich had sprouted on the wall
after the workmen had gone. Sti l l . the stricture continued . The
magic light was expensive and must be wisely used .
Now the workmen were threading the wal ls agai n , we wondered
what the new m agic would produce. Th is time there was no bul b , no
extra switches on the wal l . Instead , a large wooden box was brought
i nto the house and i nstalled at the very top of the tal lboy . displacing
the old gramophone which now had to be content with one of the
lower shelves on the same furniture . The face of the box appeared to
be made of thick plaited sil k .
But the functions conti nued t o b e the same. True, there was n o
need t o put on a black disc , no need t o crank a handle or change a
needle. it only required that the knob be turned for sounds to come
o n . Unlike the gramophone however, the box could not be made to
speak or sing at any time of the day. It began i ts monologue early i n
107

the morning. fi rst playing 'God save The King' The box went silent
some t i me in the afternoon . resumed late afternoo n , then . around
ten or eleven in the even ing, sang ' God Save the King ' once more
and wen t to sleep.
Because the box spoke incessan tly and appeared co have no in terest
in a response , it soon earned the name As 'oromagb 'esi. An ad
ditional l i ne was added to a jingle which had been formed at the time
of the arrival of electricity. Belatedly. that jingle had also done
honour to Lagos where the sacred monopoly of the u mbrella by
royal ty had first been broken ;
Elektiriki ina oba
Umbrella el ' eko
As'oromagb'esi, ira oyinbo '
At certain set hours, the box delivered THE NEWS. The News
soon became an object of worship to Essay and a number of his
friends. When the hour approached , something happened to this
club. It did not matter what they were doing , they rushed co our
house to hear the Oracle. It was enough to watch Essay 's face to know
that the skin would be peeled off the back of any child who spoke
when he was l istening to The News. When his friends were present,
the parlour with its normal gloom resem bled a shrine, rapt faces
listened intently, hardly breathing. When The Voice fel l silent all
faces turned instinctively to the priest h imself. Essay reflected for a
momen t , m ade a brief or long comment and a babble of excited
voices fol lowed .
The gramophone fell into disuse . The voices of D.enge. Ayinde
Bakare , A mbrose Campbel l ; a voice which was so deep that I
bel ieved it could only have been produced by a special t rick of H is
Master's Voice, but which father assured me belonged to a black man
called Paul Robeson-they all were relegated to the cocoon of dust
which gathered in the gramophone section . Christmas carols, the
songs of M arian Anderson ; oddities, such as a record in which a m an
did nothing but laugh throughou t , and the one concession to a
massed choir of European voices-the Hallel ujah Chorus-al l were
permanently interned in the same cupboard . Now voices sang,
unasked , from the new box. Once t hat old friend the Hallelujah

' One who speaks without expening a reply.

' Electricity, government lighr
Umbrella, for the Lagos elite
Rediffusion. white man's lies.

108

Chorus burst through the webbed face of the box and we had to
concede that it sounded richer and ful ler than the old gramophone
had ever succeeded in rendering it. Most curious of all the fare
provided by the radio however were the wrangl ings of a family group
which were relayed every morning, to the amusement of a crowd ,
whose laughter shook the box. We tried to imagine where this took
place. Did this family go into the streets to carry on their in
term inable bickeri ng or did the idle crowd simply hang around their
home, peeping through the wi ndows and cheering them o n ? We
tried to imagine any of the A ke fami lies we knew exposing them
selves this way-the idea was unthinkable . I t was some time, and
only by l isten ing i ntently before I began to wonder if this daily affair
was that d issim ilar from the short plays which we sometimes acted in
school on prize-g iving day. And I began also to respond to the
outlandish idiom of their humour.
Hitler monopol i zed the bo . He had his own special programme
and somehow, far off as this war of his wh im appeared to be, we were
drawn more and more into the expanding arena of menace . Hitler
came nearer home every day. Before long the greet ing, Win-The
War replaced some of the boisterous exchanges which took place
between Essay and his friends. The local barbers invented a new style
wh ich joined the repertory of Bentigo , Girls-Follow- Me, Oju-Aha,
Missionary Cut and others . The women also added Win-de-woh to
their hair-plaits. and those of them who presided over the local food
stal ls used it as a standard response to complaints of a shortage in the
quant ity they served . Essay and his correspondents vied with one
another to see how many times the same envelope could be used
between them . Wi ndows were blacked over, leav ing just tiny spots to
peep throug h , perhaps in order to obtain an early warn ing when
Hit ler came marching up the path . Household heads were dragged to
court and fi ned for showing a naked light to the nigh t . To reinforce
the charged atmosphere of expectat ions , the first aeroplane flew over
Abeokuta; it had a heavy drone which spoke of Armageddon and
sent Christians fleeing into churches to pray and stay the wrath of
God . Others si mply locked their doors and windows and waited for
the end of the world . Only those who had heard about these things,
and flocks of children watched in fascinat ion . ran about the fields
and the streets, following the flying miracle as far as they cou l d ,
shouting greet ings , wavi ng t o i t long after i t had gone and returning
home to await its next adven t .
1 09

One morn ing The News reported that a ship had blow n up i n
Lagos harbour tak ing some o f its crew with i t . The explosion had
rocked the island , blown out windows and shaken off roofs . The
lagoon was in flames and Lagosians lined the edges of the lagoon .
marvel l i ng at the strange omen-tall fires leaping frenziedly o n the
su rface of water. Hider was really com ing close . No one however
appeared to be very certain what to do when he finally appeared .
There was one exception : Paa Adatan . Every morning, Paa Adatan
appeared in front of Wild Christian 's shop opposite the Aafi n .
before whose walls h e passed t h e entire day. Strapped t o h i s waist was
a long cutlass in its scabbard , and belts of amulets. A small Hausa
knife . also in i ts sheath . was secured to his left arm above the elbow
,and on h is fingers were blackened twisted wire and copper rings-we
knew they were of differen t kinds-onde , akaraba and others. If Paa
Adatan slapped an opponent with one of his h ands. that man would
fal l at h i s feet and foam at the mouth . The other hand was reserved
for situations where he was outnum bered . It only required that Paa
Adatan slap one or more of his attackers and t hey wou ld fall to
fighting among themselves. The bel t of amulets ensured of course
that any bullet would be deflected from h i m . return ing to h i t the
marksman at the very spot on h is body where he had thought to h i t
t h e immortal warrior of A d atan .
Paa Adatan patrolled the Aafin area , furious that no one would
take him into the A rmy and send him to confron t H i der. personal ly,
and end the war once and for all.
' Ah . Mama Wole , this Engl ish people just wan ' the glory for den
self. Den no wan ' blackman to win dis war and fi n ish off dat non
sense-yeye Hider one time! Now look them . Hider dey bom bing us
for Lagos already and they no fit defend we. ' He spat his red kola- nut
juice on the grou nd . rag ing.
' When dey come Mam a , dem go know say there be black man
medicine. I go p i le dem corpse alongside the wall of dis palace , dem
go know say we done dey fight war here . long time before dey know
werin be war for den fool ish lan d . Oh er . . . Mam a , ' he rum maged
deep in the pouches of his cloth ing. ' Mama Wole, I forget bring my
pu rse enh , look, big man like myself. I forget my pu rse for house.
And I no chop at all at all since morn ing time . . .
A penny changed hands. Paa Adatan saluted . drew out his sword
and drew a line on the grou nd around the shop fron tage. ' Oat na in
case they come wh ile I dey chop m y eba for buka. If they try cross this
'

1 10

line, guns go turn co broom for dem hand . Dem go begin dey
sweeping dis very ground till I come back. Make dem uy am make I
see.
I followed Paa Adatan once to watch h i m at breakfas . The
foodseller already knew what he wamed and set before h i m fou r
leaf-wrapped mounds o f eba, lots o f stew a n d one solitary piece of
meat which sat l i ke a half-submerged island in the m iddle of the
stew. Paa Adatan left the meat untouched until he had demolished
this prodigious amount of eba, each morsel larger than anything I
could eat for an entire meal . Halfway through , the stew had dried
u p . Paa Adatan hemmed and hawed , but the woman cook no notice.
Finally.
' Hm . lyawo . '
Si lence.
'Iyawo . '
The food-seller spun round angri ly. ' You want t o rui n me.
Everyday the same thing. If everybody swallowed the stew the way
you do, how do you think a food-sel ler can make a l iving from sel ling
eba? '
' A h , no vex for me l yawo . But na Win-de-war amount of stew you
g ive me today. '
She spun round on her scoo l , ladle ready filled , and slopped i ts
contents i nca his d ish . 'Only na you dey complain. Same thing every
day . '
' Good bless you , god bless you . N a d is bastard Hitler. When war
finish you go see. You go see me as I am , a man of myself. '
The woman sniffed , accustomed to the promise. Paa Adatan set
to, fin ished the remaining mounds, then held up the piece of meat
and suddenly threw it into his mouth , snatching at it with his teeth
like a dog at whom a lump of raw meat had been thrown . His jaw
and neck muscles tensed as he chewed on the meat , banged on the
low table and issued his challenge:
' Let him come! Make him step anywhere near this palace of A l ake
and that is how I go take in head for my mouth and bite am off. '
He rose, adjusted the rope which mung his uousers and turned to
leave.
' By the way lyawo , make you no worry for dem if den come, I don
taking your buka for my protection-Aafin , de shop of Headmaster
in wife, Cente ary Hal l , my friend the barber in shop and that
c igarette shop of l ya A n iwura. If any of Hitler man come near any of
.

Ill

you , he will smell pepper. Tell them na dis me Papa Adatan talk
am ! '
Head erect, chest defian t , he resumed his patro l .
O n e day . a convoy o f army trucks sropped b y t h e road , just in front
of the row of shops which included ours . Instantly children and
wo men fled in all directions, mothers snatching up their and others'
toddlers who happened ro be by . The men retreated into shops and
doorways and peeped out, prepared for the worst , ready to run or beg
for their l ives . These were not the regu lar soldiers who were stationed
at Lafenwa barracks. They were the notorious ' Bqtt:' , recognizable by
their caps. They were said to come from the Congo , and were reputed
wild and lawless. People claimed that they descended on shops, took
what they needed and left without payi ng, abducted women and
children-raping the former and eat ing the latter. To call a man BQtt:
became an unpardonable insu l t : to await their approach was the
height of folly.
I was in the shop with Wild Christian who of course had no interest
in the Bqtt:s' reputation. As every other shop in the vicinity had
either shut its doors or been abandoned , they m ade for ours and
asked to purchase the items they required- biscu its, cigarettes,
t-in ned foods , bottled drinks and sweets . I climbed up to take down
jars from the shelves, handed them down to Wild Christian. Sud
denly I heard a sound which cou ld only be defined as the roar of a
dozen outraged l ions. Through the space between the soldiers' heads
and the top of the wide door I saw the figure of Paa Adatan , h is face
transfigured by a set , do-or-die expressio n . He was naked to the
waist , his usual bul bous trousers had been pul led up from the calves
and tucked in to his trouser-band . In one hand I beheld the drawn
sword, in the other, a Slfrt! * into which he muttered , then waved it
round in a slow circle before h i m .
The soldiers turned , stared, and looked a t o n e another.
Wild Christian had heard and recogni zed the cause of the com
motion but was paying i t n o heed .
Paa Adatan cursed them. ' Bastards! Beasts of no nation ! Bot<;
Banza . You no better pass Hitler. Com mot for that shop make you
fight l i ke men ! '
The soldiers did not appear to understand a word , but the gestures
could not be m istaken. They whispered among themselves i n their
A mini -gourd with magical powers.

1 12

strange language. raised their eyebrows and shrugged their

shoulders. Then they turned back into the shop and continued with
their purchases. Three or four sat on the pavement before the shop
and watched.
Wild Christian , her view blocked by the soldiers, could not see Paa
Adatan at al l . A t the intensification of Paa Adatan's curses. she grew
worried, asked me what was happening .
' H e i s dancing now , ' I reponed .
Paa Ada tan had i ndeed begun a war-dance. He sang at the top of
his voice ,
Ogun Hitila d ' Ake
Eni Ia o pa Bore
Some of the soldiers stayed on to watch him while others con
tinued to buy up every eatable item in the shop. Wild Christian
inflated the prices by at least twice what she normally charged , but
they did not m ind at al l . On the contrary, they even gave me a packet
of their own biscuits which were thick, sweet and crunch y . We spoke
in sign language throughout , with plenty of smi l ing, shrugging and
hand-waving .
The trouble began when they attempted to leave. Paa Adatan
stopped singing, d rew a line across the ground and dared them to
step over i t . He h imself retreated some way back from the line, leapt
up and made a wild rush at the l ine, sword outstretched, came to an
abrupt stop at the l i ne-on one leg-rocked his body for some
moments on the leg , spun round and returned to starting-point from
where he repeated the process over and over again.
The soldiers were now bewildered. Wild Christ ian finally pushed
her way out , remonstrated with Paa Adatan.
' Enough Paa, enough ! They are our friends. You are stopping
them from going to fight Hitler. '
' Dey be Bote , ' Paa Adatan replied . 'They and Hit ler na the same.
Look them . Cowards! ' He shook his st;rtt at them . ' Put down those
goods wey you tief or I go give you message take go Hitler. '
It was all over a short whi le later. Two of the soldiers left in the
trucks had crept up behind Paa Adatan . They seized his arms from
behind and disarmed him both of sword and sttrtt . pinioned his arms
to his sides. Paa Adatan fought back l i kt the true warrior he was. He
' Hi der's war arrives in Ake.
Today we: shall kill 1hc:se B01c:.

113

threw them off. fought through the wave of bodies that engulfed
him , bore them w the ground with him and contin ued w struggle.
No blows appeared to be struck, it was all wrest l ing, and a titanic
struggle it proved . Paa Adatan fought like one who knew that the
entire safety of Ake resided i n h is arms, legs and torso . He was a
rugged terrain which had to be captured , then secured tree by tree ,
hill by h i l l , boulder by boulder. They sat on each limb, breathing
and persp iring heavi l y , shouting orders and curses in their strange
language . Then they brought some rope and bound h i m . Even then ,
he did not g ive i n .
The soldiers then swod in a circle. wiping off perspi ration and
watching h i m . They marvelled , shook their heads, looked for some
explanation from all the faces that had emerged one by one from
shops, windows , nooks and corners after Paa Adatan had begun h is
act . No one however could speak to the m . though som e nodded
affirmation when a soldier turned to the watchers, wuched a finger
w his head and raised his eyebrows.
Paa Adatan , in his bonds. struggled to a sitting position. looked at
his captors and shook h is head .
'0 rna se o . The glory of Egbaland is lay low inside dust . '
Some ogboni were now seen rushing from the palace, having heard
of the inciden t . Their appearance seemed w convey w the soldiers
some semblance of authority so , with signs and gestures, they
transferred all responsi bility for Paa Adatan to them , handed over
his sword and sr and climbed back into their lorries and drove
off.
A debate then began . Should the pol ice be called ? Was it safe to
untie Paa Adatan? Should he be transferred w the Men tal Hospital at
Aro ? They argued at the top of their voices while Paa Adatan sat in
his bonds, impassive.
Final ly , Wild Christian had had enoug h . She left her shop and
cal ling on me to help her we began to untie Paa Adatan's bonds.
There were i m mediate cries of fear and protest but we ignored them .
One of the men made to restrain her physically. She rose , drew up
her body to its fullest height and dared him to touch her j ust once
more. I bristled w her side and called the man names which would
have earned me an im mediate slap from Wild Christian in other
circumstances. An ogboni ch ief in tervened however. told the man off
' How pitiful!

1 14

and h imself completed the task of loosening the remaining knots i n

t h e ropes.
Paa Adatan , freed , rose slowly. The crowd retreated several steps.
He stretched out his hand for his sword and replaced it in h is
scabbard. Next he took his sr:rr: . dropped it on the ground and
crushed it with his heel. The explosion was loud; it startled the
watchers who moved even further back, frightened . He walked slowly
away. He moved with a sad , quiet dignity. He walked in the
direction of Iporo, vanished bit by bit as the road di pped downwards
before it turned sharply away , round the Centenary Hal l . I never saw
him again.
About this time also, another feature of our l ives disappeared for
ever. Essay and Wild Christian collected strays. h seemed a per
manent aspect of our life at A ke; with very few lapses, there was
always an adult who appeared without warning seemingly from
nowhere , became pan of our l ives and then disappeared wit h no
explanation from anyone. Sometimes it would happen that mother
had something to do with the sudden evaporation of Essay's strays.
Wild Christian stayed at her shop most of the day and , for some of
Essay's strays, this was t he sensible period to descend on their
protector and friend . Before she left she ensured that her husband ' s
breakfast was on t h e table-akara bal ls and ogi; moin-moin and
agidi; bread , omelette and tea; or bo iled yams and omelette or fish
stew-one or more of these combinations served for breakfast . But
the real treat was t hat rarest of delicacies-/eki-made of crushed and
skin ned black-eyed beans and melon-seed o i l , a teaspoonful of
which , in the sharing , could cause week-long host i li ties i n the
household. I had a place of observation between the legs of the
tallboy . h was understood in the household that when I occupied
that position , I took care of his plate and whatever was left in i t . The
d ish i tself was, however, sacrosam t . That is, until You-Mean-Mayself
en tered the household.
We all became practised i n his un ique accent and would entertain
ourselves and Wild Christian with m im icries that sent her friends
falling over with laughter. Strangely enough , I considered Mayselrs
incursion into our l ives su fficient compensation for the diminution of
those choice morsels which father left on his plate , whenever he
observed me with my eyes fastened on h is jaw movements from
between the legs of the tallboy. There was an emotional wrench when
1 15

the d ish was leki but general ly, Mayself's constant replenishment of
our repertoi re of his vocal nuances and eyel id flutter more than made
up for i t . Tinu and I , the cousi ns, and later even Dipo vied for
honours in reproducing his variations on the reaction of startled
surprise to a normal hospitable quest ion :
' Have you had your breakfast ? '
' M ayself? Nyou . '
He was short, rather l ight-complexioned and had a smal l , box-like
head . H M ' s regimen was to go to the school to conduct the opening,
then return home for a leisurely breakfast . By then . Wild Christian
would be in her shop. Mayself was at the house either before my
father went off to school or was home awaiting his return . He sat in
the chai r below t he porcelain clock in the front room , picked up a
magazi ne or a book and browsed . When mother was out of town , he
would arrive even earlier, perhaps while my father was doing h is
exercises i n the room. We hid our giggles from H M , knowing very
well what would be the consequences of making fun of a guest . Later
of course, we mim icked him openly.
Even tual l y , from his bedroom , the bathroo m , his stroll in the
garden or from school . father would return . greet his guest cour
teously and go about his business . There were times, especially
during the holidays when he breakfasted late, sat a long time at his
from-room desk to fin ish some work. then proceeded to a breakfast
already tu rned cold. He chatted sometimes with his guest , engaged
in some mild-to-passionate debate on the pol itics of the day, the
news and rumours of war or some local agitation . We waited .
Someti mes, tired of waiting for Mayselfs act we sent someone to
remind Essay that his breakfast was ready. Or to ask if his ogi or bean
pottage should be re-heated . We never doubted that he knew the
reasons for our sol icitude, nevertheless he reacted normally, inquired
what there was for breakfast , then . before issui ng i nstructions for
extra moin-moin or akara to be placed on the table. he turned to his
guest and enqui red :
' Have you had your breakfast ? '
Mayselfs face t hen rose from the journal i n wh ich he had buried it
during Essay 's plan n ing of breakfast . He looked up, startled , stared
at fi rst in any direction except the one from which the question had
so clearly emanated . Suddenly he real i zed his mistake. turned to the
questioner, registered visibly that the question had, surprisingly , been
directed at him . There followed a quick i n take of breath as the
1 16

novelty of the question, one which could never before have been
pronounced in his hearing, etched a h uge surprise on his face . Only
then came the predictable , ritual answer:
'Oh, you-mean-mayself? Ny-ou . '
The fi rst section emerged clipped i n spite of a ful l exaggeration of
the vowels. The second , the " Ny-ou " by contrast , which faded into
an upper register, was l ike the mewing of our cat and it was this I
think which sent us into paroxysms of laughter, burying our faces in
cushions of armchairs behind which we were hidden . You-mean
maysel resumed h is browsing, father his work until the sup
plemented breakfast was announced . Essay then rose, paused for
him , and they proceeded solem nly into the din i ng-room where ,
displaying every sign of being as fastidious an eater as his host ,
Mayself nevertheless proceeded to eradicate any ideas in our m i nds
that elegance of table manners was necessarily i n i mical to a hearty
appetite-a fal lacy into which we had fal len from Essay's own eating
patterns. Then again I would wonder if i t was worth it, this
ephemeral entertainment , especially on days when tht price was a
loss of left-overs in the shape of bean-paste in melon-seed oil!
Wild Christian habitually served out both man and wife portions
i n the same d ish even when she would eat separately. She had an
aesthetic feel for food ; certain dishes wen t with certain foods and , for
leki she always used a coracle-shaped, flowery porcelain of a near
luminous whiteness. She piled it about three-quarters high , carefully
wiped the edges of any smear before sending it to the table. Since she
had to be at the shop early she had her breakfast sent on to her, her
real breakfast , that is. For Wild Christian took no chances with her
stomach . She began the day with a kind of tasting-breakfast , a pre
breakfast which matched , in quantity, what my father would eat for
the entire morning. The maid then prepared her real breakfast ac
cording to her i nstructions. About two hours later came what could
be called her elevenses, a sort of Consol idation Snack. This consisted
of whatever was left in the dishes from father ' s breakfast , plus
anything that caught her fancy from nearby foodsellers. On leki days
she looked heartily forward to the Consolidation Snack.
A!as, one day there was no Consolidation Snack . Mayself had seen
to it.
Un til now You-mean-mayself had been a joke. Wild Christian had
sti ll to meet h i m , being kept from home by her shop, debt
collecting, purchasing trips both within and out of town . Our
1 17

portrayal of him became so much pan of household life t hat Wi ld

Christian would even call Essay to come and watch his chi ldren
perform . Now it was different. Wild Christian was patient. She
raised the matter in her usual i nnocent manner; a wife whose
domestic rou t i ne had been d istu rbed , merely wanted to enqu ire what
might have caused such a thing. Half-way through supper she sai d ,
' I hope t h e leki was all right t h i s morni ng ? ' '
That morning, father had returned from school only t o be sum
moned back before he could begin his breakfast . He left his guest at
the table who then proceeded to fi n ish the leki to the last lick. An
outraged Nubi reponed t h is gluttonous limit to Wild Christian .
HM had not even known what was served for breakfast . " O h , was
it leki? I had the children prepare me something. I had to rush back
to school . . . '
She p retended surprise. ' Bu t how stupid of them . The leki was
there all the time. Josep h ! '
Joseph ran i n . 'Joseph , where i s the breakfast I prepared for your
father? Why wasn ' t i t placed on the table ? '
Against father' s ' Em -em-em-em-em ' Nubi 's voice rang out, ' We
put it on the table, Ma. Papa's guest ate it al l . '
Her eyes rounded . ' O h ? You did n ' t tell me you h ad a guest dear. I
would have p repared some more . '
' Oh it's all righ t . I was no longer hungry when I returned anyway . '
They conti nued with supper. Some moments later she asked ,
'Who was he dear? Is i t someone I know ? '
'Oh er . . . an o l d friend . I doubt i f you 've met . '
She shook her head good-humoured ly. ' He must be a very strange
friend . Do you mean a friend ate all your breakfast and left you
nothing . '
' Oh i t didn ' t matter. ' Essay tried to shrug i t off. 'The children
prepared someth ing for me . '
Wild Christian was too shrewd t o pursue the matter further. But
she had given notice. When she was ready , she would deal with that
i nconsiderate friend .
H e became a fixture during t h e m id-year holiday. The rains
provided sufficient excuse-not that he needed any-sometimes it
would rain without once stopping for weeks. No one would dream of
turning out a guest i n such weather, anyway M ayself was not very
anxious to leave . He began to stay for lunch , then d in ner whenever
mother travelled anywhere or was not back in time for Essay 's dinner.
1 18

But matters came to a head , fi nally.

Wild Christian had served lunch both for Essay, herself, and
allowed for the unexpected guest or two. Mayself was no longer
regarded by us as a guest so that when she was confronted by empty
dishes and she asked what guests had called on Essay , we repI ied
truthfully, None. Essay was not yet home.
' Are you children tryi ng to tell me that your father ate all the food
in these dishes by himself?' she threatened .
Eyebrows raised in the Mayself surprise curve , we chorused , ' Papa
himself? Ny-ou . '
' I see . ' sighed Wild Christian . ' So it's him again .
And we went into a performance o f the latest variations.
' Are you ready for some lunc h ? '
' M ayself? O h , net reilly. B u t perhaps you are .
' I n that case let's have some lunch . '
'Oh er . . . yes Headmaster. '
' Would you like some supper ? '
' Mayself . . . oh e r . . . n e t un less .
' I ' l l just see what the chi ldren have set up .
But Wild Christian was no longer amused . We saw the battle-light
in her eyes and fel t a twinge of pity for Mayself who had permitted a
touch of greed to ruin the real pleasure we derived from his p resence
in the house . It was now a little more than the. fact that this guest
deprived her even of her own specialities. Essay. she knew . was a
spare eater and an exceedingly pol i te host; it followed therefore that
he was not getting enough to eat . At their next meal-time together
she glanced at father and asked .
' But dear, are you sure you are getting enough to eat ? '
' Of course. D o I look underfed ? '
'No but . . . Well , I want to make you that kind of yam pottage
you like so much tomorrow. What do you thin k ? '
'Which one i s that ? '
' M ade with ororo and a bit runny. And o f course I ' l l use some of
that smoked pork Father has j ust sent us from I sara . . . '
' Oh yes, yes . '
' Dear are you l isten ing? I want to be sure you get enough of i t t o eat . '
'Of course. Why not ? I ' m not going anywhere tomorrow. Yes . a
good idea . '
A short silence. She moved closer t o the bone. ' Are you expecting
visitors tomorrow at lunch ? '
1 19

Our whisper was del i berately audible: ' Mayself? Ny-ou . ' HM
pretended he had heard nothing.
' No-o-o . No. M r Adelu might call of course but . . . No . I ' m not
expecting anyone . '
' Wel l , if you do h ave anyone at lunchtime could you send for me
at the shop? I mean you could always have something else i n the
afternoon and reserve the pottage for the evening. I am making it
spec ial ly, and it is, after all, Father's smoked pork from I sara . '
' Yes, yes , b y all means. As you l i ke . '
She plotted i t all with Nubi . As soon as Mayself arrived Nubi ran
to inform her and took mother's place in the shop . That day, we
waited in the front room assiduously engaged in studies. Not a page
was turned over. Wild Christ ian arrived . Maysel leapt up from h is
chair, the model of old-world courtesy. He bowed low over her hand :
' Gyud meerning Madam . '
Thin-sm i l i n g , Madam exchanged courtesies. Essay. o n the other
side of the table, smothered a very fract ional sm ile; he was intuitive
about plots. We guessed he would simply let m atters take their
course .
' I thought I would come and see to your pottage m yself, ' she
explained . 'These children m ight spoil it and Father did send that
del icacy specially for you . '
'But the shop . . . ? '
'Oh , Nubi can handle most th ings now. I n any case today i s a slack
day , with all this rai n . I ' l l j ust go and get it ready . '
Not a flicker of anticipation betrayed Mayself's interest i n the
conversation , his face remained buried i n the book in deep con
centration. Under the desk we pinched one another. What strategy
had she decided on?
The bustle and smell of preparations reached us in the front room
but it was doubtful if any mouth among ours watered that day
Heads bent resolu tely down , our eyes were nevertheless fixed on the
little m an before us. At long last the voice from the kitchen rang in
sum mons:
' Woleee . '
' M a. '
I received nudges as I squeezed past others. each saying, this is i t .
When I reached t h e din ing-room I saw t hat t h e table was already
laid-for two . There was also a small tray containing a small saucer of
biscu its, and a glass.
1 20

' Go and ask the gentleman whether he prefers gi nger-ale or orange

squash . '
I did as I was told . This time his su rprise was genu ine.
' Mayself? Eouh , derzn matter. Tell madam anything thank you . '
So Wild Christian chose for h i m . As she handed me the tray she
herself prepared to fol low. That puzzled me. Mayself again sprung to
auention . I lay the tray down on the table beside him . '
'Oh Medm is so kind, so kind. And you must help me thank
Headmaster too . M r Soyinka is really most hospitable, a real gen tle
man if I may say so . '
She sm iled sweetly. ' Please don ' t mention it.
' Oh but I must . I must. A very kind soul , his qualities are very
rare .
Mother indulged him with some fu rther five minutes of
pleasantries, then interrupted: ' I hope you wi l l excuse him j ust for a
short while . . .
'Of cou rse madam of course . . . '
' Some rather important fam ily matters have come up .
' Oooh , ooh . . . '
' Family problems. ' She smi led . then looked a t father. ' Dear ,
know you are busy today so perhaps we can discuss thi ngs over your
lunch . '
I had regained m y seat by then . A cousin wrote i n his notebook1 0 / 1 0-grading her performance as superlative , a verdict which we
all endorsed . Essay rose , acknowledging defeat and m urmured an
Excuse me. Mayself sprang to his feet-Quite, quite-and did not
resu me h is seat until they had both passed from t he room .
She kept Essay i n the dining room for nearly two hours , bringing
up every possi ble subject under the earth . M ayself munched his
biscuits with his habitual dainti ness, yet they disappeared with that
contrad icting speed whose mechanics remained a mystery we tried to
solve long after Mayself had disappeared from our lives. He did not
of cou rse give up so read ily. He turned up again the fol lowing day
and the day after, but his adversary had left i nstructions and she
would be summoned . She en tered the house from then on through
the backdoor so that the first inti mation that Mayself had of her
presence was her voice summoning one of us. That presaged the
arrival of a tray of biscuits and orange ju ice. She no longer tu rned up
in the front room at all but simply sent word to father to 'spare her a
momen t ' . Mayselfs conduct was correct to the last , profuse in his
'

121

thanks. yet partaking of what hospitality he received as a pleasant

incident in his life. He disappeared finally. and the house became
the poorer for his absence.
The fi rst we knew of the existence of our Uncle Dipo was when a
smart- looking bespectacled man in army officer's uniform came
upon us unannounced in the yard . We fled . Nothing li ke it had ever
happened and . with all the war alarms. there was l ittle doubt in
anyone 's minds that Hitler had indeed arrived and was about to sh ip
us off into slavery. Essay had travelled out of town . Wild Christian
was at her shop ; neither had warned us of an impending visitor. We
did not hear him come through the from door, the from room and
the parlour, so we scattered to Upper Backyard . barricaded ourselves
in the storeroom , others in the latrine. Two cousins and I raced up
the ladder and threw ourselves flat on the roof, ready to dive over
into the street on the other side if Hitler pursued up there . We did
nothing of the son for the moment however. Instead we dragged on
our bel lies until we could look over the other edge of the roof into
the yard .
The stranger did not give chase. Instead he remai ned on the spot
and seemed to sway a little. His eyes appeared to be fused with his
spectacles so that what struck me most was that his face glowed
centrally through a pair of head lamps, like. a motor-car. His gentle,
swaying motion added to his air of the unreal , and I began to change
my opin ion about his real identity; I now thought that he was
perhaps a ghost . And t hen he raised his head . rocked forwards and
backwards with a more distinct motion and exploded :
' Bastards! Where are they ? '
The stranger moved forward and there was n o longer any room for
error; we had seen a few drunks before . Hitler, ghost or the devil
himself. the stranger was clearly dru n k . He moved forward. coming
up the yard i n the same direction we had fled . His eyes fell then on
one of our huge water- pots, buried deep in the ground and partly
opened . Th is was the favourite pot of the house . It was shel tered
both by a wal l and two l uxuriant crotons on either side; at all times of
the day, its water was cool and refreshing. The stranger went towards
the pot , swayed , unbuttoned his fly and began to uri nate in it.
Cries of outrage were torn from me and the two cousins who . from
our vamage point had witnessed this unspeakable act of desecration .
It was wholly outside the range of our imaginat ion . We had seen the
1 22

occasional guest staggeri ng in the yard from rose-bush to rose-bush .

trying to rejoin his compan ions in the front room through the kit
chen-door. even keel ing over as he tried to unbunon his flaps in the
bathroom . But to urinate in a water-pot !
The next moment we were scaling down the ladder as fast as we
had climbed up it. Shouting abuses on him we tugged at h i m ,
pum melling him with a l l o u r strengt h . With t h e one hand which was
not busy guiding his mem ber he swiped us off easily,
' Get away from me you Burmese imps ' '
I t was the fi rst time I had ever heard such an expression , but I did
not wait to puzzle out what Burmese imps were . I sprang for his
back , landing with such force that it catapulted him forward . The lid
of the waterpot was knocked backward and his face went into the pot
which was half-empty , the same motion however bounced me over
his head so that I landed in a heap and was wedged between the pot
and the wal l . The cousins had seized hold of one of his legs and were
dragging him backwards. screaming for hel p.
Neigh bours arrived al most at the same time as the other children
who had hidden in Upper Yard . They saw the uniformed man
sprawled over the water-pot and fel l back. I had scrambled up from
my brief i m prisonment and was screaming at the top of my voice:
' I t 's this Hitler! He is urinating in our pot ! '
But Hitler was motionless. When the neighbours finally ap
proached and lifted up his head he had passed clean out. They kept
him there and stood guard .
Mother arrived from the shop soon after-someone had sent for
her. She recognized the stranger at once and excl aimed ,
' But I thought h e was sti ll i n Burma! '
The neigh bours hel ped to get him to bed , having first chased us
off so that he could be made to look decent. Wi ld Christian shook
her head all through supper, refusi ng to answer our questions beyond
saymg.
' He is your Uncle. He enl isted over the objections of his entire
fam i l y--he has always been a wild one . ' But she would not tell us
his nam e.
The following morning, by the time we woke u p , our Uncle Dipo
was already awake . Cleaned , he looked spruce and commanding even
in civi lian clothes, and was eating breakfast , seated in Essay's chair.
When we returned from school , he was gone . To all our questions
Wild Christian would only reply that he had returned on leave
123

unexpectedly and had now gone back to hi new tation . The water
pot was emptied . scru bbed . an entire bottle of Dettol was then
scrubbed in to it. and the pot neglected for orne days . Then it was
crubbed with soap all over agai n . rinsed out . then left to dry. Only
then did it resume its place as the water-cooler of the household . but
I never again dran k water from it without inwardly grimacing.
Our own Dipo continued to grow i n energy and m ischief. noth ing
rould dau nt h i m . One day. he vanished . For several hours his ab
sence remai ned unn oticed . At home. i t was mostly thought that he
wa in the hop with Wild Christian: he of course had no idea that
he wa anywhere but home. He vanihed shortly after breakfast . soon
after he had received a few mild mokes for some offence. It was a
new world for ou r brother. chi world of beatings. facing the corner.
tooping down ' which req uired that the cul prit stand on one leg and
raise the other and stoop over forwa rds. resting one finger on the
ground . The other arm was placed pen i tently on the curved back.
Another favourite punishment was standing u p with arms out
tretched . parallel to the grou nd . The cane descended sharply on the
knuckles of t he m iscreant if either arm flagged . just as. in stoopi ng.
an attempt to change the leg earned the offender severe strokes on
the back. We had a 'cousi n ' whose offences somehow constantly
earned him the stoop . He became so inured to the posrure that he
someti mes fell asleep under pun ish ment.
Dipo had witnessed every member of the household undergo one
form of punishment or another as a matter of course . The
beleaguered population of children had trained his in nocence to own
up to offences which he never com m i tted because he was still too
oung to be pun ished . When the induction came. Dipo d id not at
first reali ze that it was the end of h is i m munity; to h i m . it must have
seemed a mista ke. Then it happened a few more times and he sensed
that the period of charmed existence was gone for ever. Dipo
van ished . The household was thrown into turmoil for a few hours
before he was brought home by a would-be traveller. Dipo. after
roaming through A beokuta for the greater pan of the day had found
h is way to a motor pa rk. When he tried to board the lorry however.
both the driver and the passengers could not help observing that he
appeared too you ng to be travelling by himself. Inqui ries began . a .
policeman was fetched-in the meantime. the child had been tricked
out of the park in to a nearby shop-fi nal ly. Dipo was returned home
accompanied by the sym pathetic traveller.
1 24

What ei ther parent made of the adventure we did not know or

care; to the rest of the household, Dipo was an instant hero. He
looked so vul nerable when he returned in tow of these two adults
that my first feeling was one of fright for him . No one looking so
defenceless should have been driven to the dangers of such an ad
venture. Then I took to wondering if our parents would let this affect
their over-ready recourse to the cane for every infraction; they did
not. As for Dipo, by the fol lowing day he was bou ncing irrepressibly
around as if nothing had ever occurred . No trace of the adventure or
its after-effects showed in his demeanou r. We began to look on him
then as a species of being apart , obviously indestructible. Perhaps a
year later, long after the visit of the mystery Uncle , Wild Ch rist ian
anounced that Dipo's name was to be changed to Fem i . She ex
plai ned that it had been on her mind for some time because children
named Dipo always turned out wild and ungovernable. The change
of name left us mostly indifferent, but I hid my own astonish ment.
Once again I fel t a helpless confusion-did these grown-ups ever
know what they wan ted ? It did not seem possi ble that this was the
same Wild Christian who had egged on Dipo not so long before ,
who, with the conn iving o f Joseph and Nubi had set him on m e .
Now she was changing h i s name because h e had responded only too
well to their own proddings? I mused on the p roblem for weeks
afterwards; each time his new name was cal led , I was mystified anew.
But the soldier-of-fortune had a name at last . In spite of Wild
Christian 's careful silence on that theme, I decided that his name
could be none other than Dipo. As the new en tity. Fem i . joi ned the
household , Uncle Dipo joined the procession of strangers who
m arked our l ives with their vivid presence, then departed , never to be
seen agai n . His duration was the briefest , but l ike a true Dipo. the
most sudden and tempestuous.

125

IX
It was understood in !sara that the children of the Headmaster did
not prostrate themselves in greeti n g ; our chaperon always saw ro that.
The children of Headmaster on arrival for Christmas and New Year
had to be taken round ro every house whose i n mates would be
mortal ly offended otherwise. On the streets we met relations, family
friends. gnarled and ancient figures of !sara, chiefs . king-makers, cult
priests and priestesses. the elders of osugbo who pierced one through
and through with their eyes , then stood back to await the accustomed
homage . We were i ntroduced- the chi ldren of Ayo-at long last
we were in one place where Essay ' s name was called as a matter of
course- the children of Ayo, j ust arrived to celebrate qdun . The
elder waited , our chaperon smiled and explained.
'They don ' t know how to prostrate . please don ' t take offence. '
Reactions varied . Some were so overawed by these aliens who
actually had been heard to converse with their parents in the
whiteman 's tongue that they quickly denied that they had ever
expected such a provincial form of greeting . A smaller number.
especially the ancient ones whose ski ns had acquired the gloss of
those dark beaten f!IU merely d rew themselves up h igher. snorted
and walked away. Later, they would be mollified by the QdmQ, the
titled head of I sara, to whose ears their complaints might come.
Perhaps the fact that we were related to this royal house eased their
sense of being slighted . we only observed that when we met the same
ancients agai n . they smiled more indulgently . their frowns eased to
amused wri nk les at the strange objects whom their own son of the
soi l had spawned in some far-off land . And perhaps news of an
embarrassing encounter at the palace had spread to them .
After church service one Sunday , our fi rst, I accom panied Essay to
the QdmQ 's palace. When we came into the parlour. a number of
the chiefs were already seated . so were some faces I had never seen
before . i ncluding a heavily-beaded and co railed stranger. in a
Locally woven cloth , much valued.

1 26

wrapper of aso-ok.e, who was very clearly not of !sara . He spoke and
acted more like a brother-chief ro the most senior of the ch iefs, even
carried himself as if he was the Odc;mq 's equal .
We en tered , the Odc;mq hoisted me on his knees and asked me a
number of questions about school . The usual cries went up ' A -ah
qmq Soyinka, wa nube wa gbowo' and they stretched out their
hands.
Kabiyesi put me down , I went and shook hands round the
assembly. The tal l , self-consciously regal man was stand ing by a
cupboard , lazily waving a fan across his face. When I came to h i m , he
looked down on me from his great height and boomed out in so loud
a voice that I was rocked backwards on my feet .
' What i s this? Omq tan i ? '
A chorus of voices replied, 'Omq Soyinka' poi nting to my father
who was already in close conversation with Odc;m9. The stranger's lip
turned up in a sneer; in the same disorientat ing boom as before he
ordered,
' DQbaiW
The response from the parlour was good-humoured , bantering
. . of course you don ' t know, they are these 'ara Egba ' , the chi ldren
of Teacher, they don ' t even know how to prostrate.
The stranger's eyes flashed fire . He looked from me to Essay . to the
chiefs, back to me and then to Odc;mq. ' Wh y NOT ? '
I had recovered from the onslaught of h i s voice and h i s truly inti
m idating presence. In place of it, I felt only a cold resen tment of his
presence in that place and finally. his choice of Essay as his enem y . I
had never given the question of proStration much thought except
that, on the red dusty roads of !sara and i ts frequent dollops of dog
and children ' s faeces, prostration did not seem a very clean form of
sal utation . I would not , I knew, have mi nded in the least prostrating
to Father, or to the Odc;mq , or indeed to some of the elders seated in
Odc;mq's reception room or those others who flocked to Fath er's
house to drink their thanks to the gods for our safe arrival . But I
would have tried every dodge in the world to avoid prostrating on
those streets whose dust stuck to one's clothes, hair, skin, even
without dragging oneself on the ground or placing one's nose to a
patch of urine , h uman or canine. To this arrogant stranger however,

A h. Son of Soyinka. come over and shake hai1ds.

' Whose child i s this?
Prostrate youself!

127

not even Essay and his Wild Christian could make me prostrate , even
if they had a change of mind!
Com i ng direnly from the Sunday service probably brought the
response to my head . certainly it was no justification which I had ever
thought out before , or heard used in any argumen t . I heard m yself
saying , with a sense of simply pointing out the obvious.
' If ! don 't prostrate myself to God . why should I prostrate to you ?
You are just a man like my father aren ' t you ? '
There followed the longest silence I had ever heard i n an assembly
of grown-ups. Odc;mq broke the si lence with a long-drawn whistle
ending by swearing: '0-o-o-o-o-oro baba o ! ' And turning to Essay,
'E m i u ' wq re kq ? '
My father shook h is head . gestu red with open hands that he had
nothing to do with it. Odc;mq's voice had made me turn to look at
h i m . then round the room at a surprising iden tity of expressions on
the faces of all the guests. Suddenly confused . I fled from the room
and ran all the way back home.
At the end of that vacat ion . Essay decreed that ful l prostration
should commence. nor only in !sara, bur in our Ake home.
The Odc;mQ visi ted us frequently at Ake. his visits were one
prolonged exci temen t . Essay was so wrapped up with him that we
took the utmost l i bert ies. knowing that he had l ittle rime for us.
Daodu was one other visitor-except that he never stayed over
night-who earned Essay's und ivided attent ion . To us however, the
Odc;mQ was simply Essay ' s dose friend , he meant little else . It was
the women t raders who brought the flavour, the smell and touch of
!sara to Ake. They freq uently arrived late at night like a weather
beaten caravan , heavy-laden baskets and fibre sacks on their heads.
They were filled with smoked mears. woven cloths and local oint
ments, gan. yam flour, even tins of palm oi l . They arrived close to
m idnight. lit their fires in the backyard . cooked and kept to
themselves. Wild Christian wou ld rake them extra food and Essay
would visi t them in turn to receive messages and news from home.
Their self-contain ment made a deep im pression on us for they made
no attempt to become pan of the household. Only two of them ever
came imo the from-room to talk with Essay, and we found our later
that they were his aunts. It was incredible that Essay should have
aunts, it did nor seem possible that he could be encum bered by such
By my Oro ancestors! Did you teach him that?

1 28

extra re l a t i o n sh i ps . A n ywa y . ht nnTr cal led them A u ll l i e .

A n e w sou n d wou l d tn u : r t he houe . t h e dl"<:p d i aln t of l j c b u .
which we d i d our btq

:o

i m i ta t e . When Eay w n vertd w i t h t h e

visi tor . w e were lucky to u n demand a en t enu or two. They ap

peared to speak a new l angu age . not tht Yoru ba we poke so
t houghtlessl y . A ro u n d t he i r fires in t h e yard . t h i so u n d fi l kd t ht
n i g h t l i ke a weird c u l t i c d i rge not d ii m i l ar fro m t h e chan t i ng of t h e

ogboni

which som e t i me reached o u r houe fro m t h e i r meet i n g

houe at t h e Aafi n . Th e torchoue i n U p p e r Backyard w a s c l t-a rtd

o u t and g iven over to t h em for t ht i r tav but . u n l es t h e wtather was
bad . t hey spread t h e i r mat out in tht open a i r . a n d lept .
In t h e morn i n g t h e y wcre gone before wc wok e . They rtturned
w i t h d e p l et ed sacks and bake t . all tht i r produn o ld i n the m arket
for whose day t h ey had t i med t he i r arrival Tht fo l lowing day t hey
wou l d v i i t the shops. b u y i n g other forms of good wh ich t hty wo u l d
t a k e back a n d e l l i n kna . Thty departed at dawn t h e d a y a ft e r .
l e a v i n g beh i n d a tang of m o k c and i n d igo .
I had expected to wa l k to lsara; i mtead we went

to

t h e motor- park

with our load a n d entered a lorry . The lorry wa not bou nd fo r lara
however. it stopped at l peru . l eaving t h e jou rmy u n co m p l ttcd by
som e seven m i le s . A fter wa i t i ng nearly half t h e day fo r fu rther
t ranspo rt . Esay decided t h a t we ho u l d wal k . Tht l uggage wa
d i v i d ed u p a mong u and we et off. Only then d i d I rem e m ber why I
had i m ag i ned t h at i t was a mere caual wa l k a l l t h e way from
A beo k u t a to lara- i t wa what t h t traders d i d tvery m a rket-day!
They ser o u t at dawn with t h e i r heavy leads and walked t he wholt
d a y . arri ving a t our houe at n i g h t . It did not cern posi b l c ! I asked
my fat h e r i f the wo men had been tel l i n g me t h e t r u t h and h e said
Yes. they did wa l k . Occa iona l l y . he a i d . t h t y wou l d t a ke two day.
espec i a l l y if t h ey had too m u c h merchand it t o tarry. They topped
at a v i l lage on t h e way and reted t h e n i gh t . I t r i ed to t h i n k how long
the journey had t a ken

by lorry but had no i d ta . I no l onger fel t

t i red . D i po was stra pped to the back of a m a i d . M y exc i t e m e n t rose a

w e d rew n ea r our o t h e r h o m e . t h e h o m e of t hoe d ark wo m e n who
t rudged all day to d ispoe of mo ked meat and woven doth and
spoke in a l a n guage of d i rges . We were a l mot at the e n t rance of lsara
when a lorry appeared but we t i l l p i l ed in gratefu l l y and e n tered
l sara in a cloud of t he reddet d u st t hat could poss i b l y exist o n t h e
su rface of t h e eart h .
I t was t hese i t i nerant t rader . o u r shadowy g u ests a t A ke who now

1 29

rushed to become our guides , explaining us to their world. They

basked in their contact with us on our own grounds, proudly ex
plaining us to the bewildered and soothing our passage with the
resentfu l . They fought over us , became fiercely possessive. They
would have fed us morn ing till night but here. Wild Christian was at
her most unbending about our accepting food outside the walls of
our grand father. This went beyond the mere censure on GREED. She
was morbidly afraid that we would be poisoned .
Our Ijebu relations, it seemed. had a reputat ion for poisoning, or
for a hundred and one forms of i njuring an enemy through magical
means. We were drilled i n ways and means of avoiding a handshake,
for various forms of injury could be operated through the hands. One
would return home and simply wither away. Thus we perfected the
techn ique of bowing with our hands at the bac k ; the more per
sistent ly a chance acquaintance proffered his hands, the more
resolutely we kept our hands behind, bowing respectfully and
looking permanently on the ground. It became a game, Tinu and I
would compare notes afterwards on evasion tactics .
No amount of strictures could keep us from the caravanserai when
they came to Ake. Wild Christ ian did not know of the many noc
turnal visits we paid to t hem in the yard , the questions with which we
pl ied them , and our relishing of both smoked meat and the smoky
stories they told us, far d ifferent in tone from even the most exciting
of Essay 's stories. Now visiting them in their own homes, I sadly
watched much of their mystery d issi pate. Father's m ud-huts were
very sparsely furn ished , his wardrobe consisted of no more than two
or three agbada, a few buba and trousers for casual wear, caps and his
chieftaincy robes, but none except h is farming or hunting gear was
patched or threadbare. The homes of these traders depressed us, thei r
shabbiness could not be d isguised . Beneath their joy at our presence
we now sensed the main of sheer survival , a life made up of forty
mile treks laden with merchandise. Their one 'd ress of pride' was
worn in our honour whenever they came to take us out , and the same
dress would appear again at the most im portant festival of the year,
the New Year itself, then d isappear, we knew , until the next festival .
Isara was not the most sani tary of places. There were communal
salanga. deep latrine-pits, usual ly well -kept. But it seemed to be
accepted that children 's excrement coul d be passed anywhere, after
which the mongrel dogs which roamed about in abundance were
summoned to eat it up. If they were not available, flies swarmed
1 30

them until they finally dried u p . were scattered by unwary feet at

night, churned through by bicycles and the occasional motor lorry .
And there were u ncul tivated patches in between dwellings into
wh ich faeces were flung or expelled directly by squatting adults. For
us it was a constant sou rce of astonishment that these grown -ups did
not mind that they were perceived , in broad daylight, with buttocks
bared to the bush . Coming from an afternoon spent watching the
gold and silver smiths. the paths and streets became a con tamination
of the visual feast I had partaken in the workshops of Isara's crafts
men . I displaced their apprentices at the bellows and held crucibles
for their molten metals. Back in the streets, the noise and stench were
a startling descent from the silence and the purity of their motions.
Often , the thought of the obstacles to be avoided kept me at home or
at Father's. His simple mud-house was clean . which for us mean t
normal. Once I asked Essay why we could not bring to Isara those
Sanitary Inspectors who descended unannounced on A ke
households, if only for the duration of our stay . Essay appeared to
look round nervously , as if to ensure that no one had heard me. Then
he made me promise only to remind him of it after we were back in
the parsonage.
Father had promised often to take me to his farm but he had
several duties in connection with the festive seaso n , so he suggested
that I ask Broda Pupa to take me to his. It was an outing I was not to
be denied and life became a torment for Broda Pupa until he agreed
to tackle Wild Christian for permission . He wa our neighbour,
owned a barber's shop a few doors from where we stayed . Harmfu l
medici nes could also b e passed through t h e head , s o i t was a measure
of his closeness to the fami ly that Wild Christian sent us to Broda
Pupa for our Christmas-and-New Year hair-cut special . Getting her
to agree that I go with him to his farm for a whole day was not so easy
however, but Broda Pupa had a flexible sense of humour that soon
adjusted itself to Wild Christian 's vulnerable sides . And of course
there was Father's own authority which coun ted for much , as long as
he was around at the right momen t . So final ly, with the additional
security of a genuine cousin , who was as close to manhood as any of
my Isara companions, we set off one early dawn for Broda Pu pa's farm.
' Come on , ara A ke , ' he shouted as he waited outside the door. ' I
am taking you t o school . ' H e handed m e a cutlass t o carry saying,
' Here is your pencil. Your exercise book is waiting for you at the end
of an hour's wal k . Are you read y ? '
131

I was never more ready. I jum ped down and fell i n between him
and Yem i , drawing the morning dew into my lungs. The dust was
not yet stirred , the Harmauan dew disguised the smell of the streets
which would grow rank by noo n .
Broda Pupa's timing was accurate, t h e walk lasted just about an
hour. There was a hut on the farm and its contents provided us with a
quick breakfast before we set out to work cleari ng a fresh patch of
lan d , shoring u p ridges with the hoe and gathering fruits into a large
basket . Harmauan was a period of drought and I could not un
derstand why everything here should be so green , the ground soft
and rich . Broda Pupa explained that the area was drained by a large
stream , one of whose tributaries we had crossed on the way . From
time to time he would fake a mock alarm : ' Watch that scorpion ! ' ,
making m e leap out o f m y ski n . When that n o longer worked , he
vanished silently into the bush , reappeared behind me and drew a
slithery branch along the back of my neck.
' Al l righ t , ' I said, ' Do n ' t blame me if I think you are a snake and
lash at you with my cutlass . '
It was Yemi who wen t up to meet the only snake we encountered
that day. He had climbed up a kola-nut tree to crop down some
pods . He had hardly begu n , was still shinning towards t he branch
where the heaviest pods were cl ustered when we heard him call out,
so softly that we just managed to catch it.
' Broda ! '
'Did you cal l ? Yemi ! '
There was silence for some moments, then we heard Yemi moving
among t he branches, with obvious stealthiness, and in a different
direction . Brother Pupa was puzzled and shouted angrily.
' What are you doing ? The kola-nuts are not in that direction . '
A few more moments passed and then we heard Yem i , by now
totall y h idden by the luxuriant branches,
'There is a snake, a monstrosity coi led round the branch where
those kola-nuts are. I think i t ' s an agbadu . '
I glanced panic-stricken at Broda Pupa. He was by no means
ruffled . He called out to Yem i , ' Is it moving ? '
' No , but i t ' s watching me . '
Broda Pupa laughed . ' What else do you expect him to do. See you
climbing towards h i m and then take a nap? Now listen , you ' ve
moved away from the tru n k now haven ' t you ? '
'Of course' , and I though t Yemi sounded testy. ' He i s i n that
132

direnion on the other side of the trun k . '

' A ll righ t . Listen to me. Don ' t move back towards the trunk. Just
look down and tell me if there is a branch below you which can take
your weight . '
There was a pause . we heard the rustle o f leaves as Yemi parted the
branches. ' Yes, there is . '
' Good . Then you don ' t have to jump all the way down and break
your neck. Lower yourself on to that branch , and don ' t make any
sudden move. Just climb down as you would if there were no snake
watching you . '
Yemi made the required mancruvre . I couldn ' t help feeling scared
for Yemi and resen tful towards Brother Pupa. He could afford to
make light of the whole thing. he wasn ' t up in the tree.
The next moment a body came c rashing through the leaves. Yemi
had missed his footing or the branch had proved not as strong as he
though t . Fortunately he landed on a soft piece of ground and he soon
picked h imself up. babbling:
' Broda, i t is huge. It is monstrous! That isn ' t a snake at all , it's a
sorcerer up there I swear. It's a sorcerer. '
Broda Pupa snorted . ' Is i t ? Just gather me a pile of stones will you ?
But first show me where it is exactly so I can keep my eye on i t . '
We followed Yemi to a point below the duster of kola-nuts. Yem i
was righ t . I t did n ' t take long for me t o identify i t because i t was j ust
like another thick branch of the t ree , except that i t was black, jet
glistening black and i ts body pulsed a little, but that could have been
my imagination .
Broda Pupa nodded with satisfaction . ' Good . I was just wondering
what we would eat with our yam for l unch . '
I thought h e was joking. ' Nobody eats snakes' I said.
He looked at me, a slow dawn ing in his eyes. 'Ah, I forgot, QmQ
teacher. The teacher's children don ' t eat things like that . They eat
bread and butter. '
'No, that is not what we eat . But nobody eats snakes. '
' We l l , we' l l soon see. Yemi , get me that cutlass and you , QmQ
Teacher, keep an eye on the snake. I think I ' l l cut the kind of sticks
we need myself. Yem i , you gather the stones. '
' Suppose it jumps down ? ' I asked .
' Speak Engl ish to it ' . Broda Pupa said, and left me alone .
I spent the ten minutes they were gone contemplating the snake. I t
was fat and unru ffled . It d i d n o t look as if it was going t o come down
133

in a hurry. but I did not real ly know the habits of snakes . Those we
had encountered at Ake were usually ki lled by grown-ups. long
before I came on the scene. I had seen some l ive ones slither past and
had simply fled , reporting their presence to grown-ups. In any case,
none of them had ever approached anything this size.
They returned at last . I watched Broda Pupa's methodical pre
parat ions. I could not help reflecting that he had appl ied the same
approach to obtaining Wild Christi an 's consent for my day ' s ex
cursion to h is farm . Essay was already preoccupied with so many civic
matters , people were always call i ng on him or he was attending
meetings somewhere, so i t was largely left to Wild Christian to veto
even the most in nocuous proposals. But Broda Pupa was determ i ned ,
in any case I gave h i m no peace of m i n d . He applied the same
deliberation now to p lucking t hat snake off i ts perch , first grading
the stones by size. rejecti ng som e , setting some aside-as i t turned
out-for m e . He performed the same service for the sticks, weighing
them in h is hand , cutting some down to shorter lengths, then
putting aside one long , heavy ended sapl ing.
Satisfied . he selected the throwing point. explaining. ' We don ' t
want Wole 's stones bouncing back o n that branch and hitting u s on
the head do we ? '
I turned to h i m but h e quickly snapped , ' Keep you r eye o n the
animal . '
Satisfied at last , h e directed m e to t he pile of small-si ze stones and
gave final instructions:
' I ' l l throw first. Yem i follows with h is stones , and Wole fin ishes
off the snake with h is pebble. We repeat the process until that snake
falls down to the reception com m ittee . Is everybody clear on that ? '
I nodded . already infected with the excitement.
Broda Pupa launched the first cudgel . I t flew through the few
i ntervening leaves and thudded against the m id-section of t he snake ,
shaking it out of its complacency and nearly taking it off its perch. As
the snake propelled itself forward i n fright, it was stopped short by
the smack of Yemi 's stone against a branch just in front of it. A lmost
at once Brode Pupa' s stick whistled through the air. without awaiting
my own turn .
' Come on Teacher, you are too slow . '
I launched m y pebble at the same time as Yemi threw his, saw
m ine rise barely u p to the level of the lowest branch before com
menc i ng its journey back t o earth .
1 34

' Very good, very good. With our big English hunter around no
farmer need ever lack for meat . '
The pair kept u p the incessant barrage. The snake was disorien
tated , moved backwards and forwards, clim bed to the very h ighest
perch but the stones and sticks found him t here . I had long given up
trying to contribute my pebbles, convi nced that Broda Pupa never
intended more than that I should not feel left out. I occupied myself
with watc h ing the futile efforts of the snake to escape. Finally. it
plunged downwards. I noticed then that Brother Pupa had already
picked up the heavy sap ling with his left hand . As the snake fell
downwards he transferred it to h is right and was on top of the snake
before it could recover its reflexes. A blow landed on its body and the
next thunked squarely on its head . I t writhed with incredible energy,
lashed out in all directions. Broda Pupa banged it once more on the
head , then stood a few feet away.
'Give me the cutlass , ' he ordered.
Yem i moved to give it to him but he said, 'No, no, give it to Wole
to bring to me . '
He stood too close for m y liking to where the snake was writhing. I
took the cutlass and hesitated . Then I saw t hat he stood between me
and the snake anyway. Before the snake could lash at me-which it
seemed to want to do very much-it would have to go through Broda
Pupa. Nonetheless I stretched out the cutlass to h i m at arms-length .
He shook his head . 'No no , omo teacher. When you hand over a
cutlass or a knife to someone, always hold it by the blade. I mean
hold it so that you don ' t cut yourself with it, but make sure that you
present the handle to him . not the blade . That is how we do it on the
farm . '
I obeyed him . 'Th at's i t . We ' l l m ake a farmer of you yet . '
' I a m going to b e a doctor' I said .
' Nothing wrong with that , ' he said, cutting off the snake 's head
with one blow. 'But you can still keep a farm . I am a barber after all ,
and I keep a farm . '
I had never thought of that . And then I thought of Essay, ' Papa is
a Headmaster, but he is also a gardener. '
'You see. He was raised here . ' He tossed the cutlass to Yemi who
knew what to do without being told . He scooped up the head with
the flat of the cutlass, went to one side and began to dig a hole.
'Why are you planting it ? ' I demanded .
' A lways remember this . A snake's head is still dangerous even after
135

you ' ve cut it off. Someone may step on it and the poison will go into
his body the same as if a living snake had bitten h i m . Always bury it
deep in t he ground, and preferably away from used paths. '
Yem i ' s choice was the base of a large tree, between its roots.
Brother Pupa next selected a yam from his barn and gave it to me.
'Can you peel yams?'
' I cook at home sometimes. For the whole fam ily . '
' Good . Yem i will build a fire while I skin the snake. Si nce you
don ' t eat snake meat you ' II have to eat your yam with palm oi l . '
We busied ourselves with preparations for the meal . Peppers were
plucked from the farm , a few vegetables were prepared , a bottle of
pal m oil and other condiments emerged from the well-stocked barn
and , with in an hour, a sizzling fragrance of snake meat ragout had
overcome the smell of green leaves on the farm . When the stew was
nearly ready. Yem i looked u p .
' Broda, w h y don ' t w e use t h e mortar? '
' You mean . pounded yam ? ' Brother Pupa put o n a look of
Innocence.
Yemi nodded . ' I know some people who can fight their best
friends for pounded yam . '
' O h , I don ' t know anyone l i ke that. But, yes , let ' s go the whole
way . I t ' s some people's first day on a farm . '
I protested . ' We have a farm on the way to Osiele , j ust outside the
town . ' That was true. I had accom panied Essay there once or twice
but it was mostly cared for by a farmer whom he employed .
' Wel l . as I said , your father was raised here . He is a farmer ' s son .
But I know h i s work doesn ' t give him much time t o have a farm like
this one . I mean . have you ever spent weeks on your farm ? '
I shook m y head .
' You see. What about a n igh t ? '
' Never, ' I adm itted .
'Or cooked a pot of stew like this or eaten pounded yam on the
farm ? '
'We don ' t have a n abule o n it l i ke you do . '
' Ah-ha that is what I am talking about . If Teacher's wife had
agreed , we would have spent the night here . '
I clutched eagerly a t the idea. ' We can . You can say tomorrow that
it grew too dark and we decided to pass the night here . '
Hut (or village. farmstead) .

1 36

Brother Pupa shook his head. ' She wi ll have a search party after us
if we are not back by nightfal l . Come on . help Yemi with the hot
water and let's pound this yam . I am hungry . '
So indeed was I . When we began eating , I had been certain that I
would not touch the snake meat . When the stew was poured into a
dish however, I was aston ished to find that the meat was not sl imy
and mottled but an attractive wh ite . firm yet tender-looking , with
the consistency of either ch icken or rabbit. I decided to taste a little
and was again aston ished that it tasted in between rabbit and ch icken
meat . I gave silent thanks for narrowly failing to deprive myself of
such an unexpected treat . It was also something to boast about when
I returned to A ke . feeling certain that it was a rare pupil indeed who
would claim that he had ever feasted on a snake. Broda Pupa nodded
approval at the appetite with wh ich I now attacked the meat. pushed
more pieces to my side of the dish .
A short rest after lunch , to give the sun some time to ' burn i tself
down , ' and we completed the weed ing of the plot, baring the young
cassava to ligh t . Then we set off home with bundles of yams, a basket
of oranges. some vegetables and peppers.
' School ' was not over for the day however. We were half-way home
and close to a crossing of paths when we heard a human cry. Broda
Pupa stopped . signal led to us for silence and listened. It was a
conti nuous cry of someone in pai n . It d rifted out nervelessly and the
d istance between the sound and us l essened gradually. I could hear
that it drifted closer and closer along the path wh ich was about to
cross ours , that it was a man 's voice and that it sounded l ike the cry of
a child long after it had been beaten , a long con tinuous moan of a
suffering whose acuteness had passed .
The waiter finally came in view and we gasped . His face, arms and
neck were swollen to twice their normal size. It was not an even swel l .
but a series of close lumps. the size o f awuje. The man shuffled
rather than walked along the pat h . He stared ahead of h i m and did
not even seem to notice us. From h is half-open l ips drooled the
incessant moan as if his mouth , his vocal chords had themselves
become debilitated .
Brother Pupa shook his head in pity . ' He is from the village over
there . He has only a short distance to go . '
' What on earth did that to his face?' I asked .

A broad bea n .

137

' Bees , ' t hey both repl ied . ' He must have run . ' Yemi added.
' Wel l , what should he have done? ' I asked , ' Would n ' t you have
run ? '
' Oh n o . You must never d o that. Just fling yourself o n the ground
fast and roi l away from the spot . '
' Suppose i t ' s thick bush and you can ' t rol l . '
' Get down as low as you can t o the ground , ' Broda Pupa advised.
' Get right down to the earth as close as you can , and rol l away. Don ' t
stand up and don ' t run . Get yourself flat on t h e ground and rol l .
Even i f you land o n thorns , stay o n the ground, and roll . '
Towards the end of our stay, by pretending to be with our new kins
women , the trading chaperons, I succeeded in joining a hunting
party of my own age-group. They were as usual all much older than I .
Our weapons were catapults, stones , sticks, whatever else was handy.
)imq was the leader. He divided the group i nto beaters and
marksmen , I being natu rally among the beaters. I had brought down
a lizard or two , even a small bird with a catapult at Ake, but I could
not pretend to be in the class of J imq and h is mates who frequent ly
knocked down a runn ing squirrel with a shot from t he catapult . I was
nevertheless determ i ned to excel myself as a beater. As we moved
t h rough the bush in a line, ! poked in every hole with a stick,
t h rashed every suspicious looking clump of bush and shook down
sapl i ngs. My lungs expanded to match the rousing cry of the others;
' Gbo. gbo. gbo, gbo; gba, gba, gba, gba. '
Jimo and the sharpshooters, catapults, stone and cudgels at the
ready , waited at the other end of the demarcated grounds. I moved
towards yet another shru b , shook it and was instantly rewarded with a
sharp pain on my forehead . Another fol lowed almost at once , and
then I saw the m . An angry nest of hornets , swooping down to punish
the intruder. Even as I h it the eart h , I felt that Broda Pupa would
have been p roud of me. His instructions resounded clearly in my
head and I obeyed them as if in a practice drill, thinking how
provident it was that, barely two weeks before, we had met the victim
with the puffed-up face , I agai n experienced the elation of feeling
that I was under some special protectio n ; i n Isara, this was a constan t ,
unquestioned state o f m ind , nothing could even th reaten to unsettle
lt.
J i m o cancelled t h e rest o f t h e hunt . I h a d received none other than
the first two stings and I protested, but he was nor to be deterred . It
1 38

could lead to a fever , he said, and then he would get blamed .

Everyone, it seemed , was eager not w be responsible for any mishap
to the children of Teacher. I was however too fu ll of having saved
myself. by a lesson whose timing bordered on omens, on the
supernatural . to mind this irritat ing attitude which befell us from the
singular misfortune of being 'Teacher's children ' . I bore my wounds
proudly home and displayed them-not to Teacher and Wife-but
to that other parent who had become a fel low conspirator, who truly
em bodied the male Isara for me in its rugged . m ysterious strength.
the female complement of which I had earlier obtained from the
trad ing women .
Except that his was smaller, Father's head was almost identical
with the Canon 's, but he made up for its size by the energy it
rad iated . It looked hard , truly impregnable, I really did bel ieve that
not even a gunshot could penetrate that head , that any bul let would
simply bounce off its round , hermetic casting. In spite of the
quantity of hair on i t , Father's head nevertheless gave an impression
of being smooth , the smoothness of iron-plating. He was also a much
smal ler person than his son , but every inch of him gave off such
power that he effortlessly dom inated all who came near h i m . The fact
was barely discussed but I knew that he belonged in that same
province of beliefs as the ogboni of A ke , as the priests and priestesses
of various cults and mysteries against whom Wild Christ ian and her
co-religion ists so meti mes marched on some special week-end of the
year, preaching the word of God w them in market-places, on the
streets, in their homes. The occasion chosen for such a forage was the
anniversary of the m issionaries' arrival in Egbal and ; their mission was
to perpetuate the spirit of those m issionaries and bring a few more
pagans into the christian fold.
In my secret heart , I feared for Father. I did not see how he would
escape the religious onslaught of A ke once the forces began to close
on him-from Essay simply by example and the occasional quiet
discussion , from Wild Christian by pointed silences, ostentatious
preparat ions for those celebrations of Christmas which belonged only
to Christ ians. New Year em braced everyone. but Christmas had i ts
own hundred-and-one gatherings. worsh ips, communions, prayer
meetings both at home and in closed and open spaces from which
outsiders were excluded . Wild Christian had a way of ' leaving out'
the unbeliever, especially one i n whose household she belonged.
For the moment however, Father appeared indifferent w the word
1 39

of God. When I narrated the incident of the bees, and the coin
cidence of the earlier warn ing, he did not say , as Wild Christian
would have done, ' God moves in mysterious ways ' ; he remarked
instead :
' Ogun protects his own . '
I had heard that name before. I said to him , ' Ogun i s the pagans'
devil who kills people and fights everybody . '
' Is that what they teach you ? ' h e asked .
' Yes. Isn ' t it true?'
Father scratched his chin, pierced me with his eyes. Then he asked
me the most unexpected questio n ,
' Do your playmates ever beat you up ? '
I told h i m , ' Sometimes. But most ly they are afraid t o touch me
because I am the Headmaster's son . '
' So that 's what you tell them when they want to fight you ? You
mustn ' t touch me because I am Teacher's son . '
'No, I don ' t say it, they say i t themselves . '
' What d o you mean ? How d o they say i t ? '
'They snap their fingers a t me a n d say . ' You ' re lucky . I f you
weren ' t the Headmaster's son , you wou ld have smelt pepper today"
I think they are afraid they would be dism issed from school i f they
touch me. '
' A nd you . Do you think A yo woul d do that ? '
' No . What som e o f them don ' t know i s that if we figh t , w e get
pun ished . Any time we return home with torn clothes or somebody
reportS that we have been in a figh t we get pun ished . ' And then I
wondered what he m ust think of this situation which had always
struck me as m anifestly unfair. ' What do you think of i t , Father? We
get beaten outside, and then we return home only to get beaten . It's
not right, is i t ? '
father's eyes twinkled with inward merrimen t . Except that his eyes
were much larger and brighter, he had the sam e trick with his eyes as
the Canon , they wrinkled at the corners almost half-way to his ears
when he was amused . He got up now and headed towards the cool
corner where he pulled out a keg of palm wine. I did not wait to be
asked to fetch the calabashes from the cupboard . I continued to
explain ,
'They say only children who lack t raining fight. that it is Satan 's
work . And to make matters worse, the whole of A ke knows that we
get flogged if we get in a figh t , so , the ones who do not attend our
140

school . rhey don ' t care. They are nor afraid of being pun ished in
school . They provoke us sayi ng. fighr back if you dare . They land a
quick blow and run away. Or else we run away . '
He looked ar m e inten tly. ' A re you sure you don. ' t ru n away
because rhey are bigger? '

'Oh , they are all bigger anyway. I don ' t rhihk I have ever
quarrelled wirh anyone my size . ' Then I remem bered , and added .
' Except once with Dipo . ' I was overcome with em barrassment. ' Bur
they provoked me, Mama included . ' The whole scene was replayed
through my mind and I recoun ted it ro h i m . I asked , ' Father. they
are nor very consistent are they ? Punishing us when we fight outside,
rhen provoking m y brother against me! '
Father scratched the stubble of h is chin . ' You will understand that
later. They were rrying hard ro do rhe right th ing . bur the wrong
way .
He filled my calabash halfway and fi lled his ro rhe bri m . He blew
the froth away and dran k it all down . I sipped from mine. watched
his face for com ments. h grimaced .
'That man is lazy . I ' ve rold h i m . if he doesn't go funher up the
srream for m y wine, I shall srop him bringing any more wine to rhis
house. The tree from which he got rhis is over-tired. in fact all the
trees at rhe bouom of Larelu's farm are over-tired . bur he is roo lazy
ro go half a m ile further upstream . He shook his head in emphasi s .
' All right . I ' ll see ro him . Alakon!
Just the same. he refil led his calabash . rook our an orogbo,
crum bled irs thin skin between his fingers and bit into i r , 'That
should hide the rasre a lirde. Now . let 's con tinue. Your father wants
you to go ro that white man's school in lbadan . Did you know rhar ? '
'Government College? Yes . he has said so . Bur I ' m just fi nishing
Standard Three. So rhar is still a long rime away . '
' Nor so long in your father's planning . Ayo doesn ' t believe in
leuing chi ldren ripen in the body before he begins to force their
brains . ' He frowned suddenly. ' Wait. Did you say you were m
Standard Three ? '
' Wel l . I have just passed into Standard Four. '
His armou red head went up and down slowly. l ike a male lizard ' s.
'Yes. That is what your farher was talking about . At rhe end of nexr
year you will have fi nished Four. Afrer rhar . he wants you to go ro the
.

Hopeless character.
A hard nut with stimulant properties .

141

secondary schoo l . He says ic is in chis New Year. chis one we are

encering now char you m use cake che cesr for your new schoo l . '
' Yes. I will rake boch che tests for Abeokuta Grammar School and
Govern menr College . '
He nodded agai n . ' A nd un less m y memory i s playing m e tricks,
you are now exact ly eight and a half. Is that rig h t ? '
' Yes. Father. '
' So . if you pass inro this Governmenr Col lege , you will leave home
and enrer a boarding schoo l . You will be on your own for the first
time, away from your parenrs, at the age of nine and a half-am I
right? Is m y counring correcc so far ? '
I assured h i m that i t was , begi nning r o sense where a l l this was
lead ing. I got ready ro disagree with h i m , ro assure h i m that I was nor
afraid ro leave home, indeed , that I was anxious , even desperate ro
leave home. I did nor wan r h i m p rotesting to Essay that I was far too
young.
' You think that is far too young ro leave home, don ' t you Father? '
' No . Children leave home for other thi ngs too , nor just for books.
No, I was just thinking rhar you m i ght find rhe others too old. Look ,
even i n Ayo's school , in A beokuta where rhe people have had thei r
eyes opened much longer than here by the whi te man , haven ' t you
noticed how m uch older your classmates are ? '
I agreed that I had . ' Bur I kept bearing them a l l in class , ' I assured
h i m . ' I have no crouble ar all . '
' Yes , your fat her tells m e that . But you have not got m y poinr yet .
Here, people don ' t go ro secondary school scraight from primary .
They can ' c afford ro. Very often they go on ro Standard VI Primary
where they get this certificate they call Asamende . '
' As A mended ' had . . entered the fol klore of education as the
ultimate goal in book scriving for would-be pupil teachers, sanitary
inspectors, railway conductors and so on. I smiled , but Father
m isunderstood .
' I t's no laughing matter. With Asamende they go to work , save up
enoug h , rhen go ro secondary school where rhey rry, try , try ro reach
Standard Eigh t . That is where most of them stop . Few m anage to
reach the u l timate Ten Books. Now , do you see what I am getting at ?
If you think your m ates in pri mary school are now much older thari
you , think what they will be l i ke in the secondary schools. They will
be men-garapa-garapa! A few would have got m arried already and
will even be hiding a child or two round the corner. You will be
142

sharing desks wirh M EN , - nor boys! ' He rubbed rhe stubble on h is

chin and chuckled . 'They will arrive with the:r shavi ng-soap and
razor.
When his chuckles had subsided , he grew solemn again . ' Now.
here is Ayo . very ambitious for you . He wants to send his son into
battle and believe me, the world of books is a battlefield , i t is an
even tougher battlefield than the ones we used to know. So how
does he prepare h i m ? By stuffi ng his head with books. But book
learning, and especially success in bovk- learni ng only creates other
battles. Do you know that? You think those men are going to be
pleased when you , whom they are nearly old enough to spawn,
start defeating them ? Hm ? Tel l me that. Has A yo ever d iscussed that
with you ? '
I was now thoroughly alarmed . A straightforward occupation l ike
sticking one's head in books and passing exam inations was taking on
ominous proportions. Father saw that he had made an impression on
me and re-fi lled m y calabash. 'Drink your wine, it's quite weak.
Even if you dri n k the whole gourd Eniola can ' t complain that I am
turning you into a drunkard . '
That was the other thing. Father was one of the few people who
cal led Wild Christian by that name. The two Ransome-Kut i , Daodu
and Bere and the Odemo also called her that, or M oroun , so did one or
two relations who popped up from nowhere from rime to time and
vanished just as abruptly. To others she was Mama Tinu or Mama
Wole, or Iyawo Headmaster. Father con tinued watching me intently.
' Human beings are what they are. Some are good . some evi l .
Others turn t o evi l simply because they are desperate. Envy. h m . you
mustn ' t make the m istake of thinking that envy is not a powerfu l
force for the action of many men. It is a disease you ' I I find
everywhere . yes everywhere. Your mother knows that too . I have s'e en
that much. The only trouble with her is that she thinks she knows
what to do about i t . What does she think I am alive for? '
I was puzzled at this, I did not understand him and I said so .
He tucked h is chin into his neck and shook it about l i ke a batt ling
cockerel . '0-ho . you think I simply bring you all here for the New
Year without looking out for you ? 0-o h , if that is how you do things
at A ke, rhat is not how we take life here. There is more to the world
than rhe world of Christians. or books. So . enough for today. You
and I have business tomorrow . '
I felt a thrill of expectations . Perhaps another outing to the farm ,
143

rhis rime Father's own farm . As usual I could nor help asking . ' What
business, Father? '
He stood u p . 'Oh yes , I forgor . They say you never stop asking
questions. Go on and play with your friends. I ' ve arranged it all with
your father, only I had not decided on the day. Now I think we' ll get
it over with tomorrow. '
He saw on my face that I was too intrigued now to leave without
some further explanation but . he shook h is head . 'Tomorrow. But
you will come back and sleep here tonight . Go on . '
I n !sara we occupied a house by ourselves. Wild Christian that is, and
the chi ldren . Essay slept in Father's house . From the moment of our
arrival in Isara he reased . in effect . to be part of the A ke family, the
Mr & Mrs ended and he moved back in to the !sara fol d , and the
obligations of his hometown . There were constant consultations .
town meetings. family meet ings, church council sessions, Obash ip
affairs . . . a hundred duties that a whole year, someti mes less , had
kept waiting for him . He spent much of his time with the Odemo
but it was not merely du ties that kept him there. The Odemo, with
one or two others such as m y godfather who was the husband of my
wife-to-be, obviously relieved the narrowness of d iscourse which
Essay now experienced in !sara. I often wondered if the Odemo was
not equal ly desperate for h is kind of company.
It was not a rigid arrangemen t : often one or more of us would
simply camp down at Father's and sleep there . There were always
mars and space on the dung-plastered floor of what served as the
living-room . In spite of Wild Christian ' s em issaries. I spent half the
nights of !sara in Father's house: this was however the first time that I
received a direct order to sleep there . My curiosity was in tense as I
went to sleep-which did not come until well into the nighr.
I woke up earl y to find Father bent over me. an oil- lamp i n his
hand . It was nor yet daylight but there were already two other figures
in the house . I saw their forms in a corner of the roo m , one was
clearly an elderly man. the other a young boy , only slightly taller
than I was. Instinctively I looked round to see if my father was around
but he wasn ' r. I assumed that he was still fast asleep in the inner
room .
M y mind still o n a plan ned excursion I asked . 'Where are we
going ? '
Are you ful ly awake? '
144

I nodded . ' Go and have a wash, I've left a oail of water in the
yard . '
I obeyed . As I walked past the two figures I noticed, on the floor
between them , a clay dish . a bottle of palm o i l . several small tin
containers fi l led with powders. mostly dark colours. A flat plate
contained some metal implements and what looked l ike the
fragm en t of a shel l . Puzzled , I had my bath , shivering from the
coolness of the morn ing air and a sense of foreboding.
When I returned, I noticed that the stools and chairs had been re
arranged . The pal m-stalk upright had been moved from its position
against the wall to near centre of the room . A low stoo l , an ipeku was
placed before it and on this, the elderly stranger was j ust positioning
himself. The boy knelt by his side, re-arranging bottles, jars, trays
and the strange assortment of implements.
' Come and sit here , ' Father commanded, pointing to the palm
stalk chair. I obeyed .
He moved from the door to face me. 'You remember what we
talked about yesterday ? '
I replied ' Yes . '
' Good. Now l isten very carefully. What you are about t o undergo
wi l l give you pain but . . . LOOK AT ME! '
I snatched my eyes back from the sinister tray and looked into his
burning eyes. 'That 's better. Keep your mind away always from a
source of pai n . Now, this boy here , he is you r own age. It is up to you
to decide if you want to shame yourself by crying before h i m . He
paused , boring into me with his eyes. Since he appeared to expect a
reply, I said .
'No, I won ' t cry . '
' I know you won ' t . I just wanted t o remind you , i n case you forget .
It wi l l pain you of course, you are not wood . so it m ust pain you . But
you are not to cry .
I was now wholly paralysed by fear, but t hat did not stop my heart
racing . I waited for the worst . I sti l l had no idea what was in store,
only that I was expected not to cry , however painful it was. And then
I remembered som ething .
' When Folasade died. I cried . '
Father stopped i n his tracks. The stranger paused also, looked at
Father in some puzzled way. I saw that Father was taken aback, not
knowing what to make of this. Final ly,
' Folasade? Ah, yes. Hm.' And he went off in a private reverie.
.

145

'That child was abamr. I told A yo at the time abami gidi! Going
off l i ke that . on her very day of birt h . h m . Anyway, that was dif
ferent. A man cannot argue with his sou l . l banuj. ko m 'omode, ko
m ' agba'
He nodded abruptly to the stranger. I felt my right ankle sudden ly
in the grip of a vice . the heel pressed against the grou nd . Just as
swiftly. the hand moved to the bal l of my foot , pressing downward
and maintaining the pressure of the heel against the grou nd . The
little boy swabbed the ankle with a wad soaked in something, the
next moment the elderly man had seized the most scalpel- like of the
metal objects. dipped it in the clay d ish and a sharp pain began at my
ankle and shot up my body to the brai n . I yelped ! The left hand kept
my foot fi rmly fixed to the ground. As I cried out I wou ld have
twisted my body. only there were now two strong hands, Father's,
keeping my shoulders pressed against the back rest of the chair.
As if in a dream . I looked down and saw the same blade flash in to
the d ish and out agai n . until the pai n in my flesh was no longer
defi ned by moments. The bites of the blade merged i nto one another
and I stared down at the arc of incisions in fascination . at the anklet
of blood oozes which prog ressed round my ankle. A fter that first
sharp cry. my bod bound i tself to silence. but the tears that were
forced out in that moment continued unchecked as I gritted my teeth
together and forced back every sound. Father's fi ngers dug into my
shou lders as my body contracted with every i ncision. I cou ld no
longer look down. I shut my eyes. glued my teeth together and
waited for the end of the ordeal . The tears ran . unchecked .
A soothing band encased my ankle. When ! looked down I noticed
a wide swathe in the mixture of the dish . Binding my ankle now was
the strip of cloth which had been soaked in that mixt u re . The boy
was quite gentle. Even as I sank into the luxury of the cessation of
pai n . the blade had bitten i nto my other ankle. But the shock had
passed , and taken the surprise of the pain w i th it. A fter the ankles
both wrists underwent similar i ncisions. I wi nced from time to time
but m y jaws were at least unclenc hed . I watched every move. even
began to ad mire the neat. precision skill of the wielder of the knife.
When i t was over. I d isbel ieved what a short time it had all taken .
Outside, the sun was beginning to cast shadows on our doorstep. The
stranger spoke in low tones in the corner of the room while Father
-

A weird child . veritablv weird.

Sorrow knows neithe child nor elder.

146

nodded and grunted in apparent agreement. Then the elder came

back and began to pack h is instruments, the boy rinsing out the dish
just outside the door while the elder cleaned out h is blades. poured
the rest of the powders into small jars which he transferred w a
bottomless bag which I now saw hanging by the door. Father saw
them off. and shut the door.
He came towards me, sat on the vacated swol and said, ' Wole, you
did-strong. You acted l ike a true Akin. And now l isten w me.
Listen very carefully. and this i n spite of anything anyone, ANYONE
tells you . . . If they tell you the contrary. tell them I said it . . .
Unhurriedly. taking his time as if the taking of snuff was the most
hazardous operation in the world, he reached sideways w the lower
ledge of the small table, took out his tin of snuff, opened it, shook
some into h is left hand , replaced the cover, taking care w keep his
left hand cupped w avoid spillage, replaced the tin on the ledge ,
then proceeded to take a pinch from the palm and treat either nostril
to an equal amoun t of snuff. For some reason . probably because of
the unprepared-for immersion I had j ust undergone, every sense was
painfully tuned and the slightest detail of his motions took on a life
of i ts own . so that I seemed w be seeing h i m for the first time.
M y hearing also had acquired a wild tuning. When he sneezed I
leapt up from the chair and my head conti nued to echo with the
sound. even while he spoke.
' Whoever offers you food , take it. Eat it. Don ' t be afraid, as long
as your heart says, Eat. If your m i nd misgives, even for a moment,
don ' t take it, and never step in that house again. Do you understand
what I have just said ? '
I could only nod, dumbly.
'I said, anyone offers you food or drink, if your m i nd does not
hesitate , go ahead . It is I that say so. If however, you experience even
one moment of doubt, turn your back on that place and never go
back. Next , don ' t ever turn your back on a fight. Where you are
going, maybe next year. maybe the year after the next , I don ' t know.
For all I know they may not let you back here before you go to that
school but it does not matter. Wherever you find you rself. don ' t run
away from a fight. You r adversary wil l probably be bigger, he will
trounce you the first time. Next time you meet him, chal lenge him
again. He will beat you all over again . The third time . I promise you
this. you will either defeat h i m , or he will ru n away. Are you
l istening to what I am tel ling you ? '
'

147

' Yes. Father. '

' First time , second time, never mind that he beats you . But keep
going back. In the end you will put him to shame-either you will
trou nce him sou ndly, or he will run away . '
H e rose. ' I sent your parents and the other children away to Saga
mu. They should have gone by now, there are plenty of people there
they haven ' t visited . So we are by ou rselves. '
I turned towards the room . ' I thought Papa was i n there . '
H e smiled and shook h i s head. 'Oh n o , this i s just between the two
of us. Now I must go to a meeting. Somebody will bring you your
breakfast. Don ' t eat anything else . Don ' t eat anythi ng today and
tomorrow except what I send you . Do you understand ? '
I assu red h i m that I did. I felt drained, my head was i n confusion
and my wrists and ankles throbbed. There was a strange d istance
from my hands as if they no longer belonged to me.
Then I heard myself ask , ' Did Papa get his ankles cut too ? I mean ,
when he was l ike me . '
Father raised his eyes to the rafters. 'They said it. Ayo warned me ,
and so did Eniola. When I said they should leave you with me today,
they warned , Be carefu l . He will kill you with questions . '
He went into his room. I could still hear him chuckling to himself
as he changed , letting out his single prolonged yell of wonder which
had a neatly regulated tailing off at the end. For a long while I sat
still, trying to work out if my ankles wou ld take my weight or if they
would fal l off the moment I lifted my feet . Tt was as if my quandary
had transmitted i tself to him in the room "because his voice came
ringing out almost at once:
'Try walking on the outer edge of your feet , then on the i nside
edge. When both have failed , you m ight try walking as you normally
do-squarely on both feet, only a little more gently. That usually
works best. '
And then , as I stood up, I fou nd myself grinning , because I was
certain that Father did not think that I would understand.

148

X
The smells are all gone. In their place , mostly sou nds, and even these
are frenzied distortions of the spare, i ntimate voices of humans and
objects alike which fil led A ke from dawn to dusk , whose muted
versions through the night sometimes provided us with puzzles of
recognition as we lay on our mats resisting sleep. Even the least
pleasant smell, such as the fain tly nauseating smell of a smashed bed
bug , tinged with the whiff of camphor that should have prevented its
appearance in the first place was pan of the i nvisible network of
Ake's extended persona; it was of the same order as the nocturnal
rumblings of Sorowanke. the madwoman who l ived by the mango
tree, tal king in her sleep . This was the mango tree in the square,
nearly opposite the church. At n ight we would hear her d istinctly
exorcising her demons or b ickering with her lu natic lover Yokolu .
Even as the sizzle o f the heated needle was heard from Wild
Christian 's nocturnal battles against the bugs. the crickets and
c icadas engaged in their own challenge to the prolonged choir
practice from St Peter's churc h , probably on the eve of a Church
festival . Sorowanke punctuated the an them in rehearsal with her
sudden yelps and slaps against cracked , emanciated thighs as the
tower-clock solemnly chimed the twelve strokes of m idnight. Over it
al l , as we drifted asleep, coursed the pungent ferment of pulped corn
from the dark corner of the k itchen. the smell of ojojo from the
frying-pot of a woman who served the late n ight-farers, of palm-wine
from the same n ight-stall which d ispensed a late supper of eko and
ojojo and , at week-ends especially, the sound of the lazy strings of
Dayis i , the juju-band guitarist returning from an engagement, ,.,r
simply serenading the night.
The smells have been overcome. And their conqueror, sou nd. is
not even the measured chimes of the tower-clock or the parade of
egungun, police band, market cries or bicycle-bell but a medley of
electronic bands and the raucous c lang of hand-bells advertising
bargai n sales of imported wares. The dusty road which once grandly
intervened between our backyard wal l and the church wall IS now
-

149

shrunken ; a half, pressed against St Peter's parsonage wall is shared

among a variety of stores pedd ling the products of a global waste
industry-fly- blown shawls, combs, mirrors, flaring rad io antennae,
chrome or foam-and-ru bber motor-car decorations, ornamented
flasks, dri nking-glasses disgu ised as floral arrangements, oriental
table-mats stamped Manchester. clocks, 'gold' jewellery . photo
frames with a backing of white voluptuous bodies . . . Raquel
Welc h , Marilyn Monroe, D iana Dors, Jane Russel l , Greta Garbo.
Someti mes the figures are m incing males, also stars of the celluloid
world. They strike a pose of conscious mascul i n i ty bu t , even with
their aggressive moustaches, the sum is-androgynous. Along the
same midnight walk of Dayisi the guitarist now dans the you ng
hawker, releasing i nto the faces of passers-by through his finger on
the caller's button, the dulcet chimes of Made-i n-Hong-Kong
doorbells.
A long Day isi ' s Promenade I also sang, but only on those oc
casional late evenings when I was sent on an errand to Pa Solatan or
some other member of our parents' circle in the direction of Aacfi n or
I poro, or to our Auntie M rs Lijadu . I sang to buoy up my spirits
agai nst the dangers of the dark , against figu res who drifted past i n
t h e dark a n d who, for a l l I knew might b e spiri ts or kidnappers.
There had accrued to me a formidable weapon in my armoury of
i ncantations against the unknown , after my role as The M ag ician
on prize-giving day at St Peter's i n Standard I l l . Even i f most
dangerous spirits d id not converse in Engl ish , there was no way that
they could mistake the ferocious will of the counter-force marching
along Dayisi 's promenade and singing at the top of his voice:
For I ' m a mag ician
You all must know
You ' II hear about me wherever you go
You can see my name in letters large
You can see me perform for a poultry large
For Anthony Peter Zachary W h i te
Is a man who always g ives delight .
My friends I bid you come and see
What sort of wizard I may be
Come one and all
And join the crowd
And lift your voice in praises loud .
1 50

Why pouhry? It was one of the baffling details of that chi ldren's
opera . The power of the magician was no stranger however, even
though it belonged among the mysterious.
Centenary Hall was constantly host to a procession of magicians
who were invariably ' trained in India' . They burnt incense, trans
fixed volun teers from the audience and sl iced their assistants in half.
Once there was a terrifying encounter between a member of the
audience, a near duplicate of Paa Adatan. He had answered the call
for volunteers from the audience on whom the magician would
demonstrate h is hypnotic powers. This aggressive, muscu lar
volunteer had however refused to be hypnotized. The Doctor
Magician exerted all h is powers , burnt coils and coi ls of incense ,
muttered a hundred Abracadabras and recited the terrifying
pronouncements of-someone wh ispered near us-the Seventh and
Ninth Books of M oses; the volunteer simply turned towards the
aud ience, half-rose from his crouch and sneered. The Doctor
sprin kled h is mystic water from Jerusalem around the couch , flicked
his fingers at the recumbent form and fan ned the air around the
volunteer's face with down-facing palms; the stubborn Egba man
refused to go to sleep. But finally the deed was done, the volu n teer's
eyes glazed over and the Doctor stood over h is inert form , trium
phant. But the n , his face turned ugly. The confrontation had
reduced h is status and competence i n the eyes of the audience and he
began to prowl round the stage in a fu ry . He shou ted words to the
effect that the defeated man and he had been engaged i n a life-and
death duel and thus the contest could only be concluded on those
terms. The audience appeared nervous. Suddenly he dived on the
sleeping figure, pulled up his dansiki. Sure enough, around his waist
was a leather thong of amulets. This he ripped off and held out to the
audience; we understood this to be the Doctor's explanation of the
man 's prolonged resistance. His next motion was the most terrifying
moment of the entire evening. He pounced on the long sword with
which he had sliced his assistant in half and , raising it, darted
towards the couch with an intent that no one could mistake . Some of
the audience fled , others covered their eyes and screamed . I was
merely open-mouthed in horror, unable to believe that an evening's
entertainment of magic could be about to end in such a violent
manner. The commotion was so complete that I neither saw, nor
cou ld anyone explain to me how it all ended .
That contest unravelled i tself for me, even as it took place , as a
151

sim ple contest between the mag1c1an and the oi6, the wizard or
sorcerer. The magician was the agent of rhe mysterious Orient
I ndia, Egypt, the Three Wise Men, Moses and Pharaoh and the
Plagues. The wizard was our own chal lenger, armed with local
charms against the alien forces of the orient. But he had been
defeated and , for all I k new, had been vengefu l ly cut in half by the
enraged man of the Orient . The smell of incense hung permanently
over my memory of that encounter, linking up in some undefined
way with the aura of those three kings who had approached the i nfan t
child with gifts o f gold . frankincense and myrrh. I t was, without
doubt, an evi l , vengeful force. terrifying and pitiless in application.
Playing the role of The Magician, self-declared both ' magician' and
'wizard ' was therefore , a rather baffling contradiction but, the songs
were all the more potent for that. It was the language of a dual force
which the witches and the kid nappers wou ld understand . Songs from
that, operena became my regular guard whenever I had to brave the
passage between our backyard wal l and the churchyard where, to add
to the menace of the dark . there was also a cemetery. not to mention
the huge mango tree whose bole was large enough to house a
hundred ewele, <)r<), iwin and other anjonnu !
Bur the seasonal anthems rehearsed by the choir also exerted my
voice. The tunes came out clearly enough , but not the words. These
emerged as some strange language . a mixture of English , Yoruba and
some celestial language that could only be what was spoken by those
cherubs in the stained-g lass windows , whose mouths sprouted leaves
and branches as they circled the beatific faces of saints and ar
changels. These i ndecipherable lyrics led to strange interpretations,
and I was engaged in belting out some of these when I bum ped into
Mr Orija the organist who was j ust emerging from the rear-gate of the
church compou nd. I was checked in stride by the apparition of the
untidy man who always looked , wherever he was, as if he was still
enveloped i n his cassock and surplice and was racing towards the
church with only seconds to spare before the beginning of service. I
stopped , muttered a Good Evening sir in a panic and fled . I cou ld no
longer remember what j umbled version of the Easter Cantata I had
been singing but I hoped that it had not sounded blasphemous
enough to lead to a report to Essay the fol lowing day.
I was wron g. M r Orija visited the house almost with the crowing of
the cock the fol lowi ng morning. But he had not come to report any
transgression , only to ask Essay if I could join the choir. There
1 52

followed a somewhat prolonged discussion-! eavesdropped , from

the moment I saw the lumbering figure of the organist approaching
the front door. Essay thought that I was far too small but Mr Orija
insisted that my voice was j ust right for the soprano. In the end it was
agreed. Special robes would have to be made for me when the time
came , but I was to join in the choir practices im med iately.
Edu n , who lived on the other side of l barapa morning market was
i nducted at the same time. We celebrated the occasion as yet another
liberating step from the demands of our households. In addition to
lessons, scouting, and a few fictions, there was now the legitimate
escape through choir practice. And al though I lived nearer to the
church , it was somehow accepted that it was I who should go past the
church , cross the street between Ake square and l barapa market, go
through the market, pick my way through the intervening agbole
and return with Edu n through the same passages to the church for
choir practice and , when we began to robe, for church services.
We varied the course. The evening market was normally out of our
way since it lay on the other side of the road to l berekodo, but the
morning market was mostly bare and devoid of in terest by the hour
of choir practice. Going through the sister market only added some
ten or fifteen minutes to the walk and I made sure that I set out early
enough to make up the time for it. The flavours of the market rose
ful ly in the evenings, beckoning us to a depletion of the onini and
halfpen nies which we had succeeded in saving up during the week .
For there they all were, together, the jogi seller who passed, in fu ll
lyrical cry beneath the backyard wall at a regular hour of the morn
ing, followed only moments later by the akara sel ler, her fried bean
cakes still surreptitiously oozing and perfuming the air with
grou ndnut oil. I n the market we stood and gazed on the deftly
cupped fingers of the old women and their trainee wards scooping
out the white bean-paste from a mortar in carefu l ly gauged quan
ti ties, into the wide-rimmed , shallow pots of frying oil . The lump
sank immediately in the oil but no deeper than an inch or two ,
bobbed instantly to the surface and turned pinkish in the oil. It
spurted fat globules upwards and sometimes beyond the rim of the
pot if the mix had too much water. Then , slowly forming, the outer
crust of crisp, gritty l ight brownness which masked the inner core of
baked bean paste, fi lled with green and red peppers, ground crayfish
or chopped .
Even when the akara was fried without any fri lls, its oil im1 53

pregnated flavours fil led the markets and jostled for anemion with
the tang of roasting coconut sl ices within farina cakes which we called
kasada; with the hard-fried lean meat of tinko; the ' h igh ' , roned
cheese smell of ogin"; roasting corn , fresh vegetables or gbegin.
Akamu, the evening corn pap, was scooped imo wai ting bowls from a
smooth , brown gourd sining in enamel led uays on bamboo trestles ,
presided over by women who daily im provised new praise-chams. An
onini, even a halfpenny did not fu lfil every craving bU the sights and
the smells were free. Choir practice became inseparable from the
excursion through I barapa's sum ptuous resu rrection of flavours every
evening. Whe n , a few momhs later, our apprenticeship was over and
we became fu l l-fledged choristers, I cominued to leave early on
Sundays and other church seasons to call on Ed un for both morning
and evening services. The morning market was not open on Sundays
but, there was a woman who appeared to have converted all the
smells and textures of both morning and evening markets in her pot
of stew , a crayfish and locust-bean biased concoction which queened
it over rice and a variety of yams. A part from a few stalls of fresh
vegetables, she alone defied the claims of Sunday to a market-free
gesture of respect . The consequence was pred ictable. Breakfast at
home was not niggardly , so it was not a question of hu nger. It was
even special on Sundays-yams, fish stew . omelette, bread , butter
and the i nevitable tea or lemon grass i nfusion. But it was not yet
breakfast on Su nday umil I had picked my way through the stalls of
I barapa. cassock and surplice thrown over the shoulder, rescued Ed un
from his home and, robbing God to pay Iya Ibarapa , used up the
penn ies we were given for offering on the steam ing, peppery ,
glutinous riot of liver, of chunks and twists of cows' insides served by
the old woman as ch urch bells signal led the half- hour before con
fronting God . Once or twice, probably a l i ttle oftener, we were struck
by the fear that God might object to this weekly deprivation of his
rightfu l dues, but I think I lightened our apprehensions by sug
gesting that we sang better after the richness of the markets i n our
throats than we ever did with the delicacies of the parsonage alone. In
any case , we watched for signs of disapproval from the designated
owner of those Sunday pennies, but received none.
When I asked l bidu n , M rs Lijadu's niece , what our Aunt put i n her
stews to make it taste so peculiar she said . pasmenja. It was a suange
word but one which was perfectly sui ted to the flavour of the meals
we had with our Aum who, we had dec ided, belonged to the vague
1 54

Brazilian side of some of our relations. An axis of tastes and smells

was formed between her and our grand mother. Daodu's sister. who
lived alone in l gbein al most on the other side of Abeoku ta. We did
not visit her much bu t , when we did . I would realize 'Yith a start
and not just at meal time-that I was not at M rs Lijadu 's but in the
home of our maternal grand mother. the mysterious elder sister of
Rev A. 0. Ransome-Kuti . It remained one of the mysteries of the
family relationships over which Wild Ch ristian spent so much time
trying to educate us. Were the Olubi our cousins and did this mean
blood or marriage re lations? I listened . understanding none of the
elaborate and int ricate family history . Links were formed of far more
tangible matters. Our lgbein grand mother had not hing in common.
as far as I ever discerned , with her formidable brother Daodu.
Equally stern and just as affectionate perhaps. but I was more ready
to accept, and indeed conti nued to believe for a long time t hat she
was Beere ' s mother. And I thought that she and M rs Lijadu were
sisters because they both cooked with pasmenja. both homes were
constantly wreathed in the smell of pa.rmenja. Even their buns and
chin-chin had identical flavou rs; as for food in both homes . it could
only have been cooked , not merely by sisters . but by two people who
had been sisters all their lives . Daodu 's wife. Beere, I never associated
with any form of cooking. Eati ng. that was a differe nt matter.
Beere had a passion for moin-moin and she was so fond of moin
moin made by Wild Ch rist ian that she often sent one of her elder
children. Koye or Dolupo all the way from l gbein to Ake for Wild
Christ ian 's moin-moin . When she came in person and joi ned our
parents at table, a sh riek of outrage was wrung from her if an over
zealous maid had unwrapped the steamed del icacy from the leaves.
For her, the sublime pans of moin-moin were those wafer-thin
t ruants which leaked into the folds of leaves and were now steamed
into l ight, independent slivers, to be peeled leisurely from their
veined beds and sucked smoothly through the lips in-between . or, as
a finale to the chunky mouthfuls of the fu ll-bodied moin- moin . The
hapless maid produced moinmoin paraded in all its steamy. but
naked glory and Beere would confidently insist that the leaves be
ret rieved . There was no danger; she knew very well that they had not
been thrown into the dust-bin. We watched her glide meticu lously
throug h every leaf. prise through the stuck-together leaves with a
ski n-surgeon's care. She levered apart the baked veins of the leaf
wraps, casually picking up the oiled wafers along t he way and licking
155

her lips in ostentatious enjoymen t. She acknowledged our unvoiced

stares of protest by remarking loudly-if she happened to be in the
mood-that anyone who really believed that such tidbits should be
left to ch ildren was either a fool or an Englishman. Then, with a
rougish look on her bespectacled face, she measured off a slice from
the cen tre of the moin-moin, pushed i t aside for us and winked,
remarking afterwards that she would sooner forgo the main lump
than lose those insubstantial slivers with their Wi ld-Christian
flavour, sealed in secret corners cunni ngly pinched by her practised
fi ngers.
The hawkers' lyrics of leaf-wrapped moin-moin still re.sound in
pam of A ke and the rest of the town but, along Dayisi 's Walk is also
a shop which sells moin-moin from a glass case, lit by sea-green neon
lamps. It lies side by side with McDonald's hamburgers, Kentucky
Fried Chicken , hot dogs and dehydrated sausage-rolls. I t has been
cooked in emptied mi lk-tins and similar containers , scooped out and
sl iced in neat geometric shapes like cakes of soap. And the newly-rich
homes stuff it ful l of eggs, tinned sardines from Portugal and corned
beef from the A rgentine. The fate of wara , among others, is however
one without even this dubious reprieve. The vendor of milk-curds,
floated in outsize gourds has been banished by chromium boxes with
sleek spouts which dispense yellowish fluids into brittle cones . If it
were , at least, ice cream! But no. The quick-profit importer of instant
machi nes is content to foist a bed-pan slop of d iabetic kittens on his
youthful customers and watch them lick it noisily, biting deeper into
the cone. Even Pa Delumo's Sunday school chi ldren knew better; the
ice cream king of Dayisi 's Walk would have been dethroned, through
neglect, by the wara queen.
Our teeth were cut on robo , hard-fried balls of crushed melon
seeds, and on guguru-and-epa, the friend and sustainer of workers on
the critical countdown towards pay day . A handful of guguru was
washed down in water, palm-wine or pi to and hunger was staved off
for the rest of the working day. Evening, and Jwnkere department
took over, a bean-pottage with a sauce of the darkest palm-oil and
peppers, and of a sou ndly uncom promising density . M ixed with gan,
it fu lly j ustified the name of concrete whose corrupted version it
proudly bore. The Hausa women who sold guguru carefu l ly graded
their corn; we com bined in our purchases the hard-roasted teeth
breakers, the fluffy , off-white floaters and the half-and-half,
inducing variations into taste-buds with slices of coconut or
1 56

measures of g round nuts. Today's jaws on Dayisi's Walk appear no less

hard-worked , indeed they champ endlessly-on chewing-gu m .
Among t h e fantasy stores lit by neon and batteries of coloured bulbs
a mach ine also dispenses popcorn , un iformly fluffed . Urchins thrust
rhe new commodity, clean-wrapped , in plastic bags in faces of
passengers whose vehicles pause even one moment along the route.
The blare of motor-horns compete with a high-decibel outpouring of
rock and fu nk and punk and other thunk-thunk from lands of
instan t-cultu re heroes. Eyes glazed , jaws in constant, automated
motion , the new habi ruees mouth the confusion of lyrics belted ou t
from every store , their arms flapping up and down like wounded
bush-fowl . Singly, or in groups of iden tical twins. quad- or quin
tuplets they wander into the stereo srores, caress the latest record
sleeves and sig h . A trio emerge with an outsize radio-cassene player
in fu l l blast , sening up mobile competi tion with the already noise
demen ted line of stores.
They move on to the trin ket-and-cosmetic shop, thei r jaws im
placably churning through the gummed-up troughs of synthesized
feed in every conceivable idiom , pause at McDonald's, bury corpses
of sausage- rolls in their mouths and drown the mash in coca-cola. A
girl decides at last on one of several competing brands of 'skin-tone'
creams, already picturing her skin bleached lighter, if the glossy
poster on the wall fulfil led i ts promises. There is a welcome intrusion
of a more localized noise , or so it seems at the beginning. A las , it is
only yet another local imi tation of foreign pop , incongruously
clothed in some pious, beati tudinal phrases and left-over morsels of
trad i tional proverbs and saws. But these musicians have the measure
of their audiences-the newly ric h , im porters and contractors, the
managers of 'groups of companies' . Bathed in the g low of such
instant piety , their m inds and senses un tasked by linear melodic l ines
and the single all-purpose c hord , they embrace and ostentatiously
patronize the new music , barely recognizing the iden ticality of the
new ' Fuj i ' , ' Fuj i- Rock' , 'apola-d isco' ' A fro-Reggae' with their
equally vapid precursors.
Their choices equally untroubled but tu ned to distan t mentors,
the children of the new professionals-doctors , lawyers, engineers,
bureaucrats and clerics-pass behind the parsonage along Dayisi's
Walk clutching the very latesr cassenes from ' the abroad' and
congregate at Kentucky Fried Chicken to com pare notes. A girl
pauses at the hair-dressers' and soon. the sound of sizzling joins the
157

d isco sou nds, followed by the smell of frying hair as the hot comb
heats up the brain of the young consumer without firing her
i magination. A t the end of the operation the belle of St Peter' s
exami nes the magazine floss on her head , touches i t l ightly here and
there and approves her new appearance. It is time to join the others
at the Colonel's for a share of the ' fi nger- lickin' goodness' .
Sometimes Dayisi ' s promenade merged with strange cruel ties. I n the
mango season Ake Square was particularly heady with smells. It was
not j ust the fru i ts, though these gave off their own sticky perfu mes,
in add ition to attracting a p lague of butterflies swarms of flies and
bluebottles once the sticks and stones began to fel l the ripened fruits .
The tree in season was however s o lush with shade that food-sellers
stayed will ingly beneath i t . A l l day , the workers, office staff from
nearby local government offices. schoolboys and lorry passengers
squatted among the roots of the tree , on improvised benches, or
simply stood while they made combination meals ou t of a hundred
varieties. Sorowanke was an add itional attraction . Someti mes they
wou ld give her food . even occasional clothing, other ti mes she was
the subject of abuse, good-natured teasing , and the occasional
anonymous m issile.
Sorowanke had built her shack against bushes some d istance from
the mango tree-a few thin strips of corrugated iron sheets, some
card board , rags and sticks were sufficient for the makesh ift home.
Yokolu her lover had no fixed abode; he patrolled all of A beokuta
and could be encountered at all hours in any corner of the town .
One day, we saw h i m sharing a meal with Sorowanke. He came
more and more frequently, until we noticed that among the rags
which Sorowanke now spread out to dry after washing were some that
belonged obviously to a man. Yokolu wandered off less and less.
spend ing most of the day around the mango tree and sharing the
food that was habitually given to Sorowanke.
The event created some consternation among the mango-tree
popu lation . Our own pupils at St Peters brought back daily news of
the progress of this liaison between the two outcasts, and the reac
tions of the food -sel lers and their customers. Imperceptibly at first.
the crowd around the mango tree began to diminish i n spite of the
deep and broadening shade around the tree. The food-sel lers who
remained moved further away from the tree-trunk towards the
churc h , opting for new positions al most on the perimeter of the
158

shade. Sorowanke and her lover took over the abandoned space.
Their tins, cans, frayed baskets began to appear among the roots
where customers used to eat . Their laundry appeared on the lower
branches of the tree. Soon, Sorowanke and Yokolu followed their
possessions into the base of the tree. At high noon they could be seen
dozing with their backs against the tree ; their hearth was now per
manently positioned in a convenient triangle formed by two exposed
roots of the tree, the concoctions from their pots vying in pungency
with the fam iliar smells of fried pork and yam pottage . leki and the
myriad other delicacies of the regular food-sellers. There were
g rumblings, but it seemed as if the new demarcation of territory was
now tacitly conceded .
And then , Sorowanke's stomach began to swell. It grew bigger and
bigger and Sorowanke talked less and less. even at night , sitting on
her haunches among the roots, drawing deeper and deeper into the
shadows. No longer ranting to the un iverse as she was won t,
especially when Yokolu wen t on his mysterious voyages round the
world, she contented herself with muttering incantations which no
one could decipher. One day, her consort disappeared. Sorowanke
grew even more withdrawn from the worl d . Since she always looked
downwards when muttering, it appeared that she was speaking to the
swelling in her belly. A bruptly, one morning, we heard shouts,
screams, the sounds of missiles clatteri ng on iron sheets. I rushed to
t he ladder with others and there we saw some of our schoolmates
pelting Sorowanke with stones and sticks. The food hawkers joined in
while some men on their way to work simply stopped and watched.
jeering and cal ling her witch . Only a few days before, she had
returned from an unaccustomed absence-a few hours at the most
to find her shack smoulderi ng, her belongings scattered , flung far
from the base of the tree. Since then she wou ld sit in the same
position , mutteri ng, barely eating. In any case there was not much
food or money-perhaps it was this which took her away for a few
hours in the first place. And now the stones were flying at her. A
well-aimed cudgel knocked off her remaining tin-pot from the crude
hearth beneath which she had lit a fi re , spilling nothing but plain
water. I saw her bleeding from the temple, waving a hand across her
face as if she was trying to swat a fly. But they were hard stones, and
sticks, and Sorowanke suddenly felt along the tree-trunk and
staggered up. The children moved i n , scattered her fi re, th rew the
remain ing rags and cardboard boxes into the bush where her shack
1 59

once stood . The food-sellers completed the work , swept the grounds
clean and moved back to their former stations. It took no more than a
week before Ake completely forgot the pregnant madwoman,
Sorowanke.

1 60

XI
A l l that I observed was that he kept more and more to his room, that
he ate less often , and then , mostly in his room and that when he
emerged, he appeared to look more keenly at us and shake his head
sadly. Nothing changed in his appearance. Visitors came less fre
quently. When they did they stayed for only a short while, some
times not seeing Essay, simply being told, ' Headmaster is resting. '
Wild Christian spent more time in the house, abandoning the
shop to the maid and the cousi ns. She spent much of the day in and
out of his room, taking him food , tea, conversing with him i n low
voices. Our little infringements wen t unpunished by either of them ,
and these in turn diminished so that there was really nothing to
rebuke. A blanket of general somnolence hung over the house, a
peaceful dispensation which repelled harsh voices. No one had to ask
us not to raise our voices, to avoid knocking thi ngs over. We had no
i nclination to play truant, to dawdle on errands or join our other
playmates in furtive dares. After school , I hastened home, un
consciously impelled by a need to be with the family, to share the
quiet intimacy of touch , looks, a drawing together which was
tangible in every simple action .
And yet I barely understood . Not even when I came upon him
u nnoticed among his flowers , his gaze more and more frequently
floated on distances. I turned a corner of the house. and surprised
him speaking softly to himself with an annoyed shake of the head .
'Oh dear, what a pitifu l death . '
I t happened a number of times. There was no mistaking the
words. On his face played h is smile of half-regret, half-annoyance,
perhaps also , a touch of curious anticipation, but the words were
unmistakable. Sometime he tossed his head , smiling with a touch of
indu lgence, as if he was chiding a wayward , precocious child.
' Yes, what a pitifu l death . '
Then, one day , h e called me into his room. He was sitting u p in
bed and made me sit down in his chair, by the window . I had never
seen him smile so muc h , so insisten tly.
161

' You are not to let anyth ing defeat you ' . he bega n . ' because you
are the man of the family . and if you are not strong . what would you
expect Tinu and the others to do? What you must pu rsue at all t i mes
is your education. Don't neglect that . Now you know I 've always
wanted you to go to Govern ment College. '
Mystified . but now deeply trou bled . I nodded yes.
' I t is true you are now in the Grammar Schoo l . But you must
continue to sit the exams for Government Col lege. A nd not merely
sit to pass. but win a scholarship. The government col leges have
several scholarships for the deserving child, which is what you must
strive to be. Aim fer a place in Govern ment Co llege . You see, no
mat ter what happens. the govern ment will support its scholar
always bear that in mind . '
I promised to aim for a sc holarship. I t seemed so important t o him
and suddenly I was caught up in the feeling that I was making an
important transition through a promise that was eternal ly binding. It
was plain that I must let nothing come between me and the
fulfilment of this prom ise . which was made between two people on
an unfamiliar, hitherto unexpored plane. He nodded , as if he had
recognized m y own act of recognition , and was content .
'Things do not always happen a s o n e plans. There are many dis
appointments in l ife . There is always the unexpected . You plan care
fu lly. you decide on one step after another. and then . . . wel l , that is
l ife . We are not God. So you see. one cannot afford to be weighed
down by the u nexpected . You will fi nd that only determi nation will
bring one throug h , sheer determ ination. A nd a faith in God-don ' t
ever neglect you r prayers. You are the man of the family, remember
that others will look up to you . You must never let them down . ' He
shook his head for em phasis. ' Never, never let them down ! '
That even ing. I developed a high fever. I t raged throughout the
night and th1 0ugh the following day . Not until the third day did it
begin to abate. Throughout the del i rium I was conscious of only the
two faces-father and mother-bent down anxiously over the bed .
And the voice of Wild Christian sayi ng, when the fever began to
drop.
'What is the matter? Is it because of the talk you had with your
father? '
I said nothing. knowing that what she had suggested was the
truth . but failing to see how one thing could possibly have led to the
other.
162

When I recovered , I found the photographer hovering around the

house. My ill ness had , it seemed , delayed a plan ned fiesta of phot
graphy which now commenced with a kind of calm intensity. Essay
had turned out his wardrobe for his finest aso oke. He was photo
graphed singly, with every shrubbery of his garden. the crotons and
the roses . he was photographed wi th Wild Christian , with each one
of his children , then with all of us. then in several family groupings.
He went back to his room and changed , was photographed against
the setting sun . against the walls of the bedroom , seated, stand ing
. . . but always with that wide smile on his face. He moved about
cheerfully, giving the photographer instructions, positioning each of
us exactly as he wanted us, first on his knees, then stand ing beside
him-I wondered what the photographer made of this sudden orgy
of portraiture. Essay's last instruction to him that evening was that he
should hurry the resu lts. Over the photographer's amazed protests,
he insisted that the plates must be developed , p rinted and brought
to the house the following evening.
I went back to bed , fatigued , suffering a mild relapse of the fever.
Then , so g radually that I did not real ly notice i t , the shadow
passed . Little by little I began to observe a return of the old routine,
an increase in noise. cheerful ness, jokes , front-room visits and the
normal shop- keeping absences of Wild Christian from the house.
When the house was normal again , I began to think that it had all
been a hallucination of my fever. That inert spel l of seeming to
wait-for what I did not know-had lifted . The days regained
definition and pattern . A sense of liberation , a deep psychic relief, a
sense of a lasting reprieve took over. Beyond a few times when I
caught myself watching Essay with a baffled intensity, beyond the
evidence of the photographs which had been framed and now hung
on the walls, I accepted the new dispensation as a matter of course,
with perhaps a sense of gratitude to an unseen Force for a del iverance
from the suspected but un named Menace .

163

XII
Grandfather was right, they were not all men at A beokuta Grammar
School-AGS to most of A beoku ta-but there were numbers whose
only distinguishing feature from teachers was that they wore the blue
shirts and khaki-khaki u niforms of the schoolboys. In every other
aspect they were ready to be heads of their own households, and
some of them already were.
Nearly half of my beautiful new text books, exercise books,
pencils, rubbers, blotters and other equipment vanished in the first
week in A G S . The deepest loss however was a gleami ng mathematics
set, the first I had ever held or seen . It opened up vistas of a totally
new form of scholarship and promised great excitement. That it
shou ld vanish before I even had the time to u nderstand what the
d ividers, the com passes , the set square and the translucent half-circle
with strange markings were meant to impart was far more painfu l
than t h e pun ishment which accompanied their loss. N o t even t h e
replacement-with an equally new set-could compensate for the
loss of t hat first flat metal box to which I had accorded such reverence
that , I ignored all advice and refused to deface it by carving m y name
on it. The big boy who had stolen i t , who everybody knew had stolen
it and who knew that we all knew, had already scratched his name
across the box i nside and out. I t established his ownership and there
was l it tle that anyone could do, not even the class-teacher to whom I
reported the loss, and my suspicions.
There were a few more acts of ini tiation into the new world and,
before the year was out , I did not need to overhear Wild Christian ' s
remarks t o acknowledge that I was now incli ned t o day-dream far less
and was respond ing with some enthusiasm to a noisy environment.
My mathematics set had been stolen righ t under my nose, even as a
lesson was in progress. Such an event would have been unthinkable
at St Peter's. I began instinctively to study my new companions very
closely and devise ways to survive among them . I looked forward
to my next visit to Isara: even the prescient old man , I felt, had
something to learn about the natives of AGS who moved in and out
1 64

of i ts mansion in pursu it of knowledge.

Daodu was away when I joined the school. He had joined a mission
of educationists selected from all over West A frica to England ; in his
absence M r Kuforij i , a mathematics teacher acted as principal. His
n ickname was W-w. a name which meant nothing u n til one
encountered the chi n , piping-voiced Acting Principal in h is tight
fitting gabardine sui t , spectacles which placed his gaze above the
head of whoever he conversed with, and a gait which suggested a hen
i n terrupted in the act of pecking scattered corn . When he went on his
rounds of the school , appearing suddenly i n the classroom where he
remained for minutes to monitor the lesson , he was never withou t his
cane. Apart from whatever report the class-teacher had to make on
individual performance and conduce, w-w also made his own
on-the-spot assessment of appearances and application, picked out
chose who fel l short of h is requirements and administered his
corrective before the class.
Even so, he was considered only an average discipli narian. He
cou ld be managed , even manipulated , and many succeeded in
getting away with close to murder with him . Even the d ramatic
height of his Acting career, a scandal which involved a prefect, ended
with the wrong climax, and not even with a wh imper.
AGS was justly called a tougheni ng school , a training ground for
later survival in l ife . I t appeared often co be managed , not by the
teachers but by a combination of anonymous forces which were
located somewhere in the huge dormi tory of the boarding school , in
the cel lars and corridors of the arched scone mansion and along the
perimeter of trees and bushes and copses round the playing fields .
Transactions of an obscure natu re cook place over chose fences with
the outside world during spores periods, during b reaks in lessons and
after classes. I obtained the feeling early chat ic was i n these places,
not in the schoolrooms or assembly hal l, nor in the principal 's office,
chat the real running of the school cook place. School bounds did not
exist for some of the boarders who had perfected a system for con
founding any housemaster who found, on h is n ightly rounds, an
empty bed that remained empty until morning. At the end of the
enquiry he more chan often became uncertain chat he had ever seen
such a bed , or chat the bed which he saw so starkly empty had been in
chat particu lar row of beds.
It was not uncommon to see a senior boy dispensing fortunes to
h is friends; he had simply broken into his father' s strongbox and
165

emptied it. A n agitated father would arrive , the future Public Enemy
No. 1 was summoned into W-wf s presence for the commencement
of a m oral siege. When the father was lucky, the remainder of his
fortu ne was recovered in the stuffing of h is son ' s mattress. in one of
the i nd ividual 'safes' within the walls of the various bui ldings or
buried in a termite-proof box beneath a tree on the school farm .
Once, the entire savings of a cocoa-farmer were stolen in this way.
The bereaved man arrived in a state of collapse , and had to be carried
up t he stairs into the principal's office. On learn ing that his father
was in the school. the son simply packed his box and fled . He never
returned to the school and nei ther. we learn t , did he return to h is
home. He d isappeared to Lagos, took a job and paid occasional visits
to h is old school dressed in the latest fashionable su its, d ispensing
largesse to his former classmates. One day he came to say a fi nal
good-bye. His father had saved up agai n and was now sending him to
England for ' further studies' .
But the real scandal came when a Senior boy, and a prefect , made
a girl pregnant. It was not u nusual. but it was t he first time that the
girl's parents had insisted on the offender's dismissal from schoo l .
Normally t h e matter was taken up and settled by t h e parents of the
two people concerned . The prefect was popular. He had a game leg
which did not inhibit him in any way. His firm handling of the
school was so fu ll of humour that no one bore him any resentment.
A lways fastidious even i n his school uniform , he had even developed
a way of walking with h is handicap so that it looked more like a
dandyish 'style' than a d isability. Some of che junior boys actually
tried to i m i tate, i n a milder form , the u n ique swank which he gave
h is body as he walked up to the platform to cries of h is n ickname
A -Keenzy-to make announcements. or to prepare the assem bly for
the arrival of the Acting Principal. It was sheer bad luck that he had
to pick on an ' i mportant' fam ily in A beokuta who demanded their
pou nd of flesh. Mr Kuforiji was reluctant to blight the career of any
student by d ismissal. espec ially i n h is final year, yet the offence was
grave enough to merit some exemplary punishmen t . He h i t on public
can i ng-before the entire school assembly. For a school prefect this
was, even for AGS. a serious humiliation. A nd the number of strokes
was an unprecedented-thirty-six!
A special assem bly was summoned . The staff fi led solem nly into
the front row of the aud itorium and M r Kuforiji mounted the
platform . I n appropriately formal tones, he annou nced the purpose
1 66

of the meeting. expressed the shock of the entire school community

at the disgrace brought upon us, and the un happiness visi ted on the
girl's family by the thoughtless acr of one of our own members. He
then named the offender, ordered him to rise and come to the
platform . Kuforiji turned to him and intoned that he had resolved to
give him another chance in life by offering him a choice. He could
leave the school in dism issal, with his name tarnished for ever, or he
could receive thirty-six strokes of the cane before the assem bly. The
young man chose the laner.
Three canes had been laid on the table. The. prefect was ordered to
' touch his roes' and the punishment began. One of the teachers was
appointed to keep cou nt.
W-w changed canes at the end of t he fi rst twelve; A keenzy did
not move a muscle. Halfway through the second dozen, W-w had
begun to swear. When he changed canes at the count of twen ty-four,
we noticed that he took longer before he resumed , and that his
strokes had begun to lose their bite. There was still ness in the hal l ,
punctuated only b y t h e falling strokes. I sensed that history was being
made . A l l eyes were glued to A -keenzy 's body , u nable to believe that
any man cou ld absorb twenty-four strokes on his back and buttocks
without once sh ifting posi tion . without the slightest noticeable
twitch of a muscle. I began to wonder if A - keenzy had padded h imself
in some way when I recal led that W-w had first pulled back the
prefect 's trousers and peeped down them to ensure that there was no
cheating. Kuforiji ad ministered the last six strokes through sheer
will-power. Sweat covered him profusely. A-keenzy rose , calm ,
unruffled , bowed with impeccable grace and intoned the ritual
response to the adm inistration of correction:
'Thank you , Principal ' : and then the roof of the assembly hall was
solidly pounded with a thunderous applause. In vain did the
principal, having first recovered from the shock. bang on the table
for order. His assistant grabbed the bel l and swung it fu riously . I t
only added to the sounds of jubi lation . A l l staff joi ned i n the at
tempt to staunch the spontaneous outburst of applause . it went on
and o n . wave after wave until it wore itself our. For minutes after the
si lence , W-w was roo scandalized to speak. He glared over the
heads of his wayward charges. looking for appropriate words. Finally
he spluttered ,
' Eyin 9m9 Satan i ! Shameless incorrigible id iots, you really think

Saranic children . . .

167

that that was something to applaud ? A won omo alaileko! Your

souls must be corrupted in and out-Get ou t ! Assem bly d ism issed ! '
w-w sank gratefully back into the mathematics classroom
when Daodu returned from his mission in England. He was
welcomed back into A beokuta by crowds which must have emptied
every home in the town . Daodu rode on a white horse into A ke for a
Thanksg iving service at St Peters Church , flanked by royal buglers.
dru mmers , and a column of boy scouts. His agbada looked , if
anything, more volumi nous than usual , as if it had been designed
specially to arc ou twards on the broad back of a horse in contrast to
the leaner girth of the motorped which had put him in hospital two
or three years before . His exploits in England had become known
largely through word of mouth- how he had forcefully ranged
h imself against the British plans to establish only one university for
all of their West African Colonies, he insisting instead on one
university for each country . His stu bborn , nearly isolated opposition
was h ighly acclaimed ; only our Daodu cou ld have done it.
For most of us however the impl ication went over our heads,
though it was not difficu lt to grasp the principle that more schools
were better than one. What mattered however was that Daodu had
braved Hi tler's submarines which , from all reports, did not
discriminate between warlike and peaceful ships. Daodu had sur
vived Hitler's demon bombers, had safely crossed the seas, twice , in
spite of the infamous mines which dotted the shipping-lanes. He
rode into Ake, a towering ebul lient presence which-it was
rumoured-had frequently overawed even the District Officer of the
colonial government and the A lake of A beokuta before whom , in his
own turn , men prostrated themselves as he passed and women knelt.
A n anthem of welcome was composed by the music- teacher; I sang it
constantly at home.
A week after his return , I began to wonder why Hitler had com
m itted the unforgivable blunder of letting the Rev A . 0. Ransome
Kuti escape, u n harmed , when he had him at his mercy. I did not go
so far as to wish him at the bottom of the seas but, we had heard of
prisoners being taken after merchantships were bombed or in
tercepted . Surely there was no reason why the same fate should not
have befallen Daodu . From all accounts , he had neglected his priestly
profession for the sake of education ; I fel t that God had missed an
" Larking in home-training.

1 68

opportune moment for redress. that he should have arranged

Daodu 's itinerary to i nclude a few years' spell as chaplain to a
prisoner-of-war camp .
Mowing the grass o f the compound a t A ke was a n i ntegral pan of
schooling, as i ndeed it was in any school of our knowledge. It was a
simple, regulated occupation with fixed hours, with demarcated
plots for every class. From time to time also a student m ight earn
extra hours of grass-cutting as a punishment. Exceptional ly, the
entire school population was turned out, oja agba i n hand, to crop
the school compound from end to en d , moving like a wel l-dri l led
army in straight l i nes and leaving nothing behind that cou ld flutter
to the heaviest movement of the wind. The teachers followed after
wards, looki ng ou t for patches that had not been cropped close
enough to the grou nd.
True, I had done less of grass-cutting than most i n the formative
years but this had been due to the u nlucky accident which had nearly
taken off my right eye . It had left a permanent scar, a visible
reminder to every teacher of what, to everyone, was nothing short of
a miracle. Overawed by this singular mark of divine protection and,
reluctant to tempt fate all over again, the teachers simply ordered me
back i nto the classroom whenever it was time for mowing the grass. I
had therefore a retarded education in the an of the oja agba but, I
did catch up i n my last year in the primary school when the i ncident
had become all but forgotten.
Grass mowing was as i t should be-without any mystique. The
blade had to be kept sharp , stones must be avoided in order to keep
the edge even, the mower bent low to the ground, knee flexed , the
arm swung the oja agba in a smooth , unbroken arc and the stroke
ended on the opposite side of the body , slicing through the measu red
space and leaving i ts batch of green slivers at the mower' s feet. The
masters of the an were of course prisoners. I had often watched them
at work on the lawns before the A lake's palace. One , sometimes two
of them would be appointed the song-master. Using a piece of metal
and a can, or a long nai l on h is oja agba, he provided a rhythm to
which the rest wielded their blades:
N ' ijo itoro-Gbim!
N ' ijo i sisi-Gbim!
0 o n i lo l ' oni-Gbim!
cudass made from barrel hoops.

1 69

0 o ni se b' emo-Gbim!
Won gba e l ' eri-Gbim!
Ewon re d ' ola-Gbim!
Tin tinni gba tin tin tin gba
Tin tinni gba tin tin tin gba .
In AGS however, grass took on 'good ' and ' bad ' defini tions. I t was
not just a question of weeds or dangerous k inds of grass with thorns
or with sharp or stubbly roots. G rass, ordinary smooth . green luscious
grass which I had taken for granted on the lawns and playing-fields of
Ake was now split into two categories-good , and bad . The care of
our fields was therefore carried out, not with oja agba or hoes, but
meticu lously with one's fingers. Every clump of bad grass had to be
uprooted one by one. Recognizing good and bad grass was easy
enough after a while, but d iscrim inating between them , and
therefore acting upon them as required proved i ncreasingly difficult
for me. I could not understand i t ! What was more , the effect of this
strange procedure , which was nor complemented by the re-planting
of good grass i n the stripped areas had turned every lawn and field
i n to a patchwork of grass and desert. Looking down from the upper
floor of the building, the football field espec ially appeared to be
under the attack of a fu ngoid growth or some other kind of com
mun icable skin disease.
I nvisible l ines criss-crossed the football field , dividing it i n to plots
for every class. Then fu rther d ivisions within each plot marked the
allotments for each group of three or four. I t was evident that W
w did nor share Daodu's unique obsession in grasses ; h is i nspection
on Friday afternoons consisted of walking through t he fields l i ke a
brisk sleepwalker, look ing above the head of all the students, cer
tainly never down at the grass. With the announcement of Daodu's
i mpending arrival however, attitudes changed . Class teachers were
given instructions. Many h i therto neglected chores and ri tuals were
re- introduced . Leaning on walls, especially with one's hands brought
down unaccustomed punishment. Most of these were irritating, some
irksome, but none produced that special block which the treatment
On the day of threepence
On the day of sixpence (i e . . stolen)
You are tightly held
You won ' t ever repeat it
You are soundly slapped
Your sentence begins tomorrow.

1 70

of grass had constructed in me. I infected a few others in my class

and , my own group dawdled while others clawed into the ground for
their l ives. We were new to the school , had never encou ntered Daodu
professional ly and we sensed much exaggeration in all of this. No
monster cou ld be as thorough as he was made out to be-was he not
the same Daodu who had fal len off his moped , been carried into my
father's bed and then hospi talized ? I cou ld not see him being so ill
occupied as to go sniffi ng the ground for every single blade of so
called bad grass and creating a fuss because of a stray one here and
there.
Ransome- Kuti resumed his duties as if he had merely gone away a
day or two. This created my first m isgiving-that a man who had just
run the gauntlet of bombs should move straight to presiding over the
school assembly, inspecting ceil ings for cobwebs and complaining of
the singing. And his first Friday found him also rou tinely on the
open grou nds, doing j ust what no man fresh from international
adventures shou ld be expected to do. Followed by the entire staff,
Daodu was carefu l ly criss-crossing the field and, while he did not
actually get down on all fours, he walked slightly bent forward, his
hands folded behi nd h i m , h is alert eyes sweeping yards to the right
and left l ike a searchlight. Abruptly he would stop, look more in
tently. Then he gave h is signatu re chuckle , which I now heard for the
first time. It was, I discovered too late, a world of meanings apart
from those beefy Daodu chuck les to wh ich I was accustomed . Th is
began in the region of his lower chest, rose to his lower jaw and
stayed there , to be released th roatily, in deep contented measu res
through l ips that were parted i n a mirthless half-melon smile. It was a
chuckle which said ,
' A-ah , they thought they could get away with it but they simply do
not know me. A fter all these years, they sti ll do not know the one and
only Daodu ! '
I t was apparently also a cue for the school. When the sound of that
chuckle was heard , I was astonished to hear also. from all corners of
the field , a chorused response. It took the form of just one word
lengthily in toned . ' Dao-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o ! '
Beyond a mere glance i n his direction to see who the victim was,
Daodu's schoolboys paid no fu rther attention . He had in the
meantime pounced on the offending spot, uprooted and held up the
' bad' example.
' A nd who was in charge of this? '
171

The criminal stepped forward. Daodu looked around to see if there

were any further oversights in the same area, nodded satisfaction and
an nounced ,
'Three ! '
The boy knew what to do. He bent over, Daodu stretched out his
hand and a cane was placed in it. The Ta-a, ta-a, ta-a of the switch
over a tautened skin menaced our ears, fol lowed by the boy 's
mandatory, 'Thank you , Principal ' . and the tour continued.
The desperate efforts which my group now put into extracting
Daod u ' s unfavou rite grass came too late. We uprooted what we
cou ld, stuffed our pockets with them . tried to smooth the blades of
the ' good' grass over its objectionable bedfellows but finally had to
stop as the entourage came c loser. The lenses of Daodu's glasses
positively twinkled with delight when he came on our plot. The
chuckle rose from its usual starting-point, came up to his throat, then
descended into his stomach and bubbled there for a while before it
travel led back for its sadistic release through his half-melon , m i rth
less smile. From every spot on the field the salutation rose i n the air:
' DaoOOOOOo-o ! ' On and on it went, as if it would never end,
measured out in proportion to the intensity of Daodu's own chuckle.
He had no need to ask who were responsible for the offending plot,
guilt was written unmistakably on a group of four freshers who stood
apart , waiting for the worst. When he announced it, I felt ready to
bolt . I was convinced that this man was a potential murderer and
could already see me being carried off the field , dead.
'Twenty-four , ' he said , and we all gasped in disbelief. He paused ,
looked along the l ine of the fou r of us. His eyes came to rest on me,
then moved to the biggest boy of the fou r who was almost twice my
size. ' Now , ' he resumed , ' here we have fou r partners in crime. How
do they normally share their thi ngs-may we know? Equally? Or
according to size ? '
Such was my relief at discovering that w e were not to receive
twenty-four each but share it between us that I did not hesitate to
insist ,
' Equally . ' Stepping forward at the same time. One thing I was not
prepared to share with the others was the agony of watching and
awaiting my turn . The bigger boys could have it to t hemselves. By
keeping my eyes and my mind on the grass and reflecting on the
absurdity of the disti nction I was required to make between them , I
was able to take my mind off much of the pai n , apart from the first
172

which sent a shock through my body. Daodu clearly wielded a

massive stroke. I allowed myself to hear only the coun t , not the
strokes themselves. It was soon over, I straightened up and
remembered just in time to say ,
'Thank you , Pri ncipal ' , feeling anything towards him but
gratitude .
I t was the only time Daodu would flex his cane against my back
and the last I would wish him in Hitler's concentration camp. Not
even a week passed after this before he resumed his usual pl ace in my
admiration. Everyth ing that Daodu did was not merely larger than
size, he made trivia itself larger than l ife and made drama of every
event. ' D iscipline' was turned into an adventure. Someti mes it
seemed that the code, ' I n nocent until proved Guilty ' was created
specially for him or by him-he carried it to the lengths of absurdity.
I t was not enough to admit an offence; i t had to be proved against
the accused . Or else the accused was req ui red to prove it against
himself, arguing extenuating circu mstances along the way . If he
made a forcefu l plea. he not only went scot-free but h is accuser might
earn what would have been his punishment, espec ially if his
presentation of the case was adjudged inept.
Once, the principal hi mself caugh t three boys red- handed in one
of the many copses at the bottom of the field . One was the notorious
' I ku ' . They were roasti ng a freshly killed chicken over a small fire.
The head and feathers lay beside them , so Daodu had no difficulty
whatsoever in identifying the source of the chicken . Daodu kept the
most massive pou l try I had ever seen anywhere and I had heard the
bigger boys say often how they would love to get their hands on one
of them . These th ree had obviously managed it at last.
Court was held in the usual place , the dini ngroom-corridor which
ran the full length of the front of the mansion . The corridor wh ich
opened into this at ninety degrees served as classrooms for what
appeared to be the primary sec tion of AGS but was in fact an in
dependent section run by M rs Kuti and known as M rs Kuti's Class.
The Kuti l ived in the part of the building which began halfway down
the front corridor, the earlier half serving as dini ngroom for M rs
Kuti's own boarders. The board ing and teaching sections, and the
living quarters of t he Kuti thus flowed into one another, a screen
separating the boarders' diningroom from the dining section of the
Kuti.
Preceded by the evidence of offence , the head , feathers and half173

roasted chicke n . the accused rapped on rhe screen and were ad

m i ned . The screen was rhen moved aside so rhar any interested
watcher could observe or participate in rhe proceedings from rhe
dining section of rhe boarders. Si nce Daodu was himself the pri n
cipal accuser, the boys were requ i red to presen r rhe charges them
selves. prosecute themselves and make their own defence.
' I ku ' , as we expected , was the spokesman. The nickname, Death
was one of the most appropriate nicknames coined for any boy in that
schoo l . lku consta ntly defied dearh by his choice of routes for nig htly
escapes from rhe dorm itory . any one of which could have resulted in
a broken neck. He looked confiden t .
' I t was this way , princi pal . There was I at the lower perimeter of
r he fields principal , with my friends about to engage i n a scholastic
experiment, Chemistry to be exact, principal . relating to the p hlogiston
theory of spon taneous combustion . It succeeded , principal. To ou r
scientific delight a small fire erupted among the twigs and oguso
which we had gathered for the purpose . p rincipal . We were about to
put out this fi re , it having served its pu rpose of p roving a scientific
point when along came a cockerel . whose patination and regal
bearing identified it beyond dou bt as having emerged from no other
place than from the private pou ltry yard of M rs herself.
'The second accused , Bode here, pri ncipal , said to me. " Ik u . there
promenades a chicken belonging to principal 's M rs. How did it get
here ? " To which I repl ied , principal, " I am as ignorant as you are on
the subject matter" . Upon which the third accused-A kinrinde,
principal-said, " Ours not to reason why . but to act; using our
initiative as the pri nci pal h i mself constantly teaches us. ' ' I concurred
principal . and there being no time l ike now because action speaks
louder rhan words time and tide waiteth for no man opportunity
once lost cannot be regained a stitch in time saves nine, pri ncipal,
and fi nally. one good turn deserves another so , with these thoughts
for our guide. we spread out, closed in on this cock in order to catch
it and restore it to the pou ltry yard from which it had escaped .
' Princi pal , it was a frisky cockere l . It was not one of those mangy.
timid fowl which one meets in most houses. It was a spirited cockerel
pri ncipal , a well-nourished , aggressive, independent m inded cockerel
principal- how could it be otherwise when it was raised , reared and
nurtured under the very hands of the principal and h is wife. Beere?

Fibre kindling .

1 74

That cock flew against the second accused. knocking him down-you
may like to examine h is battle-scars, principal. That fearsome
cockerel sim ply batted him with his wi ngs , scratched his outstretched
wrists-second accused, will you please step forward and exhibit your
scratches . '
Bode stepped forward , held out his wrists to Daodu and turned
them over. They were indeed marked by what appeared to be long
scratches wh ich could have been inflicted by talons. Daodu inspected
them solemnly, nodded to Iku to resume.
' Now principal , upon the second accused falling backwards to
protect himself. the i mpetus with which the deceased had launched
itself natu rally carried it forward , inflicting , as we have said pri n
cipal , the aforesaid wounds on the ou tstretched wrists of the second
accused. Now principa l , it is possible to conjecture what wou ld have
happened if this had been an ordinary fi re. But it was not, pri ncipal .
This was a fire built on the ph logiston theory of total , spontaneous
combustion . It followed therefore that it was extremely, and
evenly hot. The cockerel's impetus carried it right into the centre
of that inferno, where it instantly lost consciousness, overpowered
by the intense heat, and itself contributing to the validity of the
experi ment which had taken us to the seclusion of the field in search
of scientific truth, thus leaving us without any outside witnesses,
principal .
'Our offence therefore pri ncipal , lies not i n any wilfu l , oven act ,
but i n the passive misdemeanour of concealment , principal . But the
deed was done. there was no use crying over spilt milk, in every cloud
there is a silver lining and l ike thoughts, not to mention our fear to
report ourselves and maybe , be misunderstood . kept us back. For this
slight error of j udgement , speaking for myself the first, and the
second and third accused here principal , we throw ourselves on the
mercy of the court . '
A l l was silent. The accused awaited their fate. Daodu sipped at his
now tepid tea and thought hard . I thought I had never heard such an
i mpudent rigmarole and waited confiden tly for a series of punish
ments to be pronounced which would begin , at the least, with
eighteen strokes apiece. I had much to learn from Daodu's schema of
evidence and guilt. I t was not enough to d ism iss any defence,
however fan tastic or derisive as a piece of impudence : the onus was
for the accuser to disprove i t . Even the exp lanation for the existence
of the fire-what was the phlogiston theory anyway? I doubt if
175

principal knew h imself; physics was not his field . He looked u p

fi nally without a trace o f a smile.
'Case d ism issed . '
'Thank you prin-ci- pa-a-a-a-a-a-a- 1 . '
H e interrupted by hold ing u p his hand . ' I refer however only to
the case with which you were originally charged . wh ich was . . . ?' He
waited .
'Un lawfully stealing a chicken . property of Rev and M rs Ransome
Kuti and knowingly roasting same with the inten tion of secretly
consum ing it, principal . '
' Good . But you raised a new charge m your defence. Concealment, failing to report an acciden t . '
' Correct. pri ncipal . '
'To which you also . a t the same time, pleaded gui lty . '
'The princi pal is again correct . '
' So that it now remains for me to pass judgemen t. '
' Yes. thank you principal . '
'Then this is the sentence. You will all three take back the chicken
and complete what you were doing with it. That will be your entire
d iet-for all three of you-for the next week . '
'Thank you principa-a-a-a-a-a- 1 . '
'The kitchen should be instructed accord ingly . Court adjourned . '
'Thank you prin-ci-pa-a-a-a-a-a- 1 ! '
One ch icken between three fu lly grown boys for seven days? I t
sounded inadequate. I wondered if t hey wouldn ' t have preferred to
be beaten and given other tasks to perform . However. I did not think
he really expected them to starve. he knew only too well that they
would l ive by their wits and with the aid of others . Iku. I later
d iscovered . was a veteran of many argued cases. Indeed . he would
never plead before any teacher. insisting on his right to be heard by
the pri nci pal . The teachers had long given h i m up and left h i m to do
pretty much as he l i ked . The other two were his regular accompl ices
in hundreds of escapades , some of which took place in the town .
lead ing to ident ification parades which never succeeded in picking
him ou t .
Daodu was manic in h i s treatment o f m usic. When h e conducted
the school in one of the many ant hems we performed periodically,
his massive frame was galvan ized . and a patch of wetness emerged
beneath the armpit of his jacket , widening its circle until it reached
his chest. His ears picked up unerri ngly the sou rce of a wrong sound.
1 76

I was mystified however by his failure to sim ply weed out those who
were obviously tone-deaf. Instead , he picked out the offending row,
or class, and caned them after a fau lty performance. The solution was
obvious, very simple. but he never seemed to consider it. The school
was required to sing ; any portion of it wh ich could not sing well had
to be punished. I spent my lunch-hours with the family, upstairs ,
eating with the boarders a t meal-times. O n e afternoon I was
ti nkering with the piano when Daodu asked my why I d id not learn
the piano properly, offering to give me lessons. I hurriedly assured
him that my father had already begu n , dreading the impact of his
cane whenever I fluffed a note. This was less than a half truth but the
cause justified it even if it had been an entire lie. I had now assumed
a definite position with regards to the rational shortcom ings of
grown-ups , marvell ing how, for instance, an educationist and ex
perienced traveller like Daodu cou ld behave like Wild Christian who
obtained all her authority from that section of the Bible which said,
' Spare the rod . . '
.

Before Daodu's return , a group had grown up around M rs Kuti. It

was an informal gathering which began with three of four women,
then increased in numbers. They met, d iscussed problems which had
to do with the community and matters relating also to their homes.
Wild Christian was a member of this group and whenever she came
to the Kuti for a meeting, I simply waited after school and later
returned home with her. They ignored my presence near abouts as
they chatted and drank tea . They were all Christian , wives of
' professionals' -teachers, pastors, pharmacists, and so on. When
they were not discussing problems of san itation, the shortages or rise
in price of some commodity, plans for some kind of anniversary ,
their absorbing concern appeared to centre on the plight of young
women who were just entering a phase of domestic responsibility .
Over and over again came t h e observation that ' they don ' t know
what to do' ; ' they seem not to understand how to take their place in
society ' ; 'They don' t know how to receive visitors' ; 'even the
wedding of such and such was a deep em barrassment ' ; 'some of them
don ' t know about sanitation or even child care' ; and more in that
vei n . A ttempts to help individually often met with abuse, they
complained. It was suggested that they could jointly visit the homes
of such newly-weds and d iscreetly offer advice. A nother suggested
that such ' problem' ladies shou ld be invited casually to their
meetings and duly instructed .

I fel t I knew j ust the son of women they were talking abou t . My
mind went back to the saddest wedding I had ever witnessed at St
Peter's. A ke . I t was a white wedd ing-gloves , vei l , hat , bouquet,
gown etc. I temized , there was nothing missing in the colonial en
sem ble of the occasion. The bridegroom wore a matching suit with
his best man, pocket handkerchief and carnation in place . The chief
bridesmaid , pages and other bridesmaids were spread out on either
side of the bridal pair in all the correct attire, shoes gleamed and
stockings were spotless wh ite. The bridal train spread a long way
behind them on the cobbled yard of St Peter's as they stood on the
steps for a photograph. There was only one thing wrong-not one
item of attire fined anyone. The clothing appeared to have been
picked off an assortment of shops and dumped on the backs of a
random choice of chi ldre n , men and women who had never set eyes
on a city or heard an organ peal . The bride looked as if she wou ld
del iver her child any moment, her pregnancy stuck out before her
like an explanation of the m isery on the face of the bridegroom , and
of the bored , uncomfortable stance of the pages and maids. There
was a shabbiness about the spectacle which went beyond the ill
fitting clothes; i t was the lack of joy anywhere, a gui lty furtiveness in
spite of, indeed reinforced by the depressing attem pt to impose an
ou tward covering-and an alien one-on a ceremony that lacked
heart or love or indeed. identity.
I seriously hoped that the group of women had this on their mind,
I waited for them to refer to it specifically, to make their dis
approbation fel t for a scene which had troubled me for days after
wards. No one brought it u p however, and I had to be con tent with
hoping that they all had it in mind. They were however equally con
cerned with the problems of infant deaths , how to get women to use
the post-natal clinics more , rely less on paten t medicines picked up at
random . They also , in some vague , general way , wan ted women to
involve themselves in more civic activities, such as ph ilanthropic
work.
Daodu was strolling past the ' Group ' one afternoon when he
stopped to l isten . Then he interrupted :
' You know, you women have quite good aims but you don ' t seem
to know how you want to implement them . You 've been meeting
now for some time and all I see all the time are onikaba. The people
' Gown wearers.

1 78

who really need your help are the ar6s.Q , yet they are not here.
Forget the problems of social graces for newly-weds. Concentrate on
the ar6s.Q . Bring them i n on your meetings. They are the ones who
need your help. '
And he continued his stroll .
The white-haired lady, the most venerable looking among them
was the first to speak after he left them .
' Daodu has just spoken a truth of the first importance. We are
i ncomplete. The next time, let each one of us bring at least one ar6s.Q
to the meet i ng . '

' Wrapper wearers.

179

XIII
Wild Christian took her friend , Mama Aduni. to the meeting of the
Group. The meetings had now outgrown the dining-room of M rs
Kuti ' s Class and shifted imo the courtyard below . On the faces of the
women who now flocked to the meeting , market women who dealt
in peppers, gari, palm oil. and homemade wares. I identified the
same inward tiredness as I had seen in our itinerant traders from
Isara, our chaperons who , in their own homes, placed their meagre
resources at our disposal. The wide arched balcony wi ndows looked
directly on to the yard .
On the days of their meeti ngs I wen t upstairs, l istened and
watched. There was always some l ittle drama going on, some d ispute
which had to be settled-usually by Beere, the Wh ite-haired Lady
whom I now knew as Ma Igbore , or Wild Christian . Sometimes, one
of the women wou ld burst into song or tel l some ribald story. The
meeting might take on the atmosphere of a Counsell ing Cou rt, or a
spon taneous festival . Some of them arrived early to prepare the food.
The movement into the courtyard began after another suggestion
by Daod u . He now made it a routine to stroll past the group and
listen for some moments. His bedroom and study were within earshot
in any case, and I suspected that he took his ' casual' stroll only after
the discussions had reached a point wh ich gave him an idea, for he
hardly ever passed without contributing something. One day he said,
' Do you know the real t rouble with the ar65_q? They are illiterate.
They don ' t know how to read and write, that is why they get ex
ploited. If you set aside half an hour at these meetings, you cou ld
end up making all the women in Egbaland l iterate by the end of a
year! ' He chuckled at his own wild optimism , strolled on .
The idea was taken. Mama Aduni and the handfu l of ar65_q who
had by now joined the Group were told to spread the word . Slates
and markers were bought , pencils and exercise books. When the
trickle became a flood , they shifted into the courtyard . Each onikaba
took on a grou p wh ich she coached intensely for half-hour to an hour
at each meeting. Then. while the discussions con tinued on hygiene,
1 80

community development, self- help programmes, market and

commodity prices , they conti nued to copy the letters, the figures,
pausing only to join in the talking. From the top of the balcony, one
saw only a series of backs humped in concentration , topped by head
ties which showed in some cases, wads of white hair. For that first
half-hour they worked in almost total silence with sudden outbursts
of laughter, laboriously making one stroke, then another. Often it
was Wild Christian's bantering voice which caused the laughter. She
would for i nstance, seize an agonized hand in hers and guide it along
the slate , i nstructing loudly:
' Like this. Look , put down this stick, no no, make i t a straight
piece of wood like an electric pole not a crooked one. Or do you think
it's your husband 's leg you are d rawing? Now, put something l ike a
curving road on it-no, no, not l ike that. Don ' t you even know what
your belly looks l ike when you and your husband have been getting
up to God knows what? En-hen. I knew that would do it. Now that is
a " b " . One electric pole, and your big belly resting at the bottom of
it- " b " bente-bente
asikun bente-bente . . . bente-bente,
asikun bente-bente . . . ' moving smoothly into an improvised
song-and-dance.
The courtyard erupted with laughter while M ama Aduni or the
white- haired lady went and dragged her away complaining, ' For a
teacher's wife , you are remarkably good at disrupting the con
centration of pupils ! '
They were keen pupils, mostly young, and i t was these keen ones
who set in motion in lgbein , the G reat Upheaval that ended in Ake.
They were always the first to arrive, they helped i n setting up the
benches and chairs , sweeping the yard when necessary , getti ng in an
extra hour of practice to themselves before the others arrived. I ac
cidentally became a proud teacher at those pre- meeting sessions.
Dolupo and Koye , the two eldest of the Kuti children, had long been
conscripted i nto service. I was already i n my usual place on the
balcony when I saw them struggling with words-they had reached
the stage of putting the letters together, mostly in the wrong order. I
shouted a correction , they shouted back, aski ng if I was too lazy to
come down and show them . I was down the stairs in a flash. I fou nd
that they were mostly from outlyi ng villages, not from the main town
of A beokuta itself; perhaps that explained their eagerness.
A nd then they stopped coming; even to the main session they
would come late . Someti mes they never turned up at all. It was not
181

only the eager pupils, there were others too , and not only from the
suburbs. It was harvest time; these were mostly farmers' wives, so the
leaders assumed for a while that the chores of the farms kept them
away. They took their places with apologies, tried to catch up on
their lessons as the meeting progressed. Finally however the right
question was asked , or the leaders l istened more keenly to those
excuses that the late comers mum bled through an ongoing debate.
The gatherings of mumal self-im provement changed character from
that moment when one voice followed the other to explai n :
' I was arrested b y the Tax people . '
'The Parakoyi" took half of my farm produce for market tol l .
went t o the local councillors t o seek their help . '
' We were waylaid on t he way t o the farm. The Local Police asked
us to contribute one-fifth of every item as duty . '
' I tried t o dodge the uniformed men. I turned into a path I
thought I knew and got lost. Only God saved me or I would sti l l be
wandering i n the forests . '
'They have no heart , those men. They look a t you l ike they have
no flesh and blood until you give them what they wan t . '
' We spent t h e night i n a police cel l . They seized a l l o u r goods and
will continue to hold them until we brin g them our Tax papers. But
we have not even been to the market , how can we pay when they have
taken the goods we are goin g to sel l ? '
' I t i s those chiefs. They are in t h i s together. They set t he adana to
do their dirty work because they daren ' t levy a toll on farm produce . '
' No , it's the A lake; I heard one of the adana say we shouldn ' t
complain t o h i m . " Go to Kabiyesi who sent us, " h e said. '
'Our own tormentors said it was the white man. He said the order
came to the aj'ele from his fel low white man in Lagos. They are
j ust servants of the white man in Lagos. '
' ENOUGH ! '
The voice was none other than Kem beri's. The junior ' wives' of a
household and a m ischievous lot, I reflected , to so name a woman
whose real name, and a Christian one at that , was A melia. To the
women's gathering this highly feared , fearless and voluble woman
might be Madame A melia, but about the time that I became a
limpet on the group, I heard both Wild Christian and Beere refer to
Market wardens.
Agents who waylay farmers or market women.
An administering agent, thus, the District Officer.

182

her as Kemberi. When I delivered a message soon after and referred

to her as M adame Kemberi , my head nearly flew off from a swipe
from W i ld Christian ' s backhand . Beere protested, pointing out that I
could hardly be blamed for repeating a name I had heard . Only then
was it explai ned to me that Kemberi was a special n ickname given to
her by the 'wives' of h er compoun d . Only really close comrades such
as Beere and Wild Christian ever called her by that nickname , and
only when they were all by themselves.
'Enough ! ' Kemberi repeated and the murmurs of indignation
began to subside. ' What you are all saying in so many words, is that
the women of Egbaland are no longer free to walk the streets of their
own land , or pursue their l iving from farm to home and farm to
market without bei ng molested by these bloodsuckers-am I righ t ? '
' What else have w e been saying?'
She held up her hands, then turned to M rs Ransome-Kuti. ' Beere,
you heard them . What are we doi ng about i t ? You said, teach them
ABC: we have been doing that. And we also said to them , give your
children a clean home, and strain every bone i n you r body to give
them a good education. A nd they have been doing that. It is because
of these children that they refuse to sit at home, waiting for some idle
d ru nkard of a husband to learn the same lesson . A fter all, the women
of Egbaland are not u naccustomed to hard work . But now we gave
them a new reason-their child ren. A nd they began to work and they
gave their l i ttle savings to the education of their children . A nd
because of the little we have learnt together, these good-for- nothing
children no longer come home and lie that they have come first in
class when all they have been doing is staying away from school and
scoring the rou nd , fish-eye of Zero. At least, some of us now know
the difference between 1 00 and Zero, between 1st and 34th. When
the school report comes home. even if some of our women cannot
read everything, they can read enough on that card to know if that
child is wasting their money. A nd if they cannot read, they know
where they can bring the card-right HERE!
' Now these same women are telling us that they can no longer
come here freely. The streets of Egba are blocked by the very people
against whom we have tried to give them protection. Tax! Tax on
what? What is left after the woman has fed children, put school
uniform on h is back and paid his school fees ? Just what are they
taxing?'
A roar went up from outraged voices. Kemberi again commanded
183

silence. ' It is time we told them , No more taxes. They want to bleed
us dry , let us tell them , No more Taxes . '
A tumult of approbation overspi l led the courtyard. Order was
resumed . M rs Ransome-Kuti was em powered to give notice of a
demand for the abolition of tax for wome n , both to the District
Officer and the A lake of A beokuta and his Cou ncil of Chiefs. It was
the longest meeting so far of the women, and the ' G roup ' remained
u pstairs long after the crowd had departed . There was no question of
my going home that night; I sensed the beginn ing of an unusual
event and was gripped by the excitement. On a par with the Sanitary
Inspector, the Tax Officer was perhaps the most feared individual i n
A beokuta-without however the tolerance which generally attached
to the former. The Tax Officers had invaded our house on occasion.
Although their conduct was polite, even routine, they did succeed in
conveying such an aura of power that I was constantly relieved when
Wild Christian opened one of the smaller top drawers and produced
the yellow receipt. Once , in a sweep of the petty shops, an over
zealous type had even accompanied her home to verify that she had
indeed paid her tax . The bigger cousins wanted to chase him out.
Kemberi ' s pronou ncement therefore sounded l i ke an ally's declara
tion of one of those civil wars which appeared to make up both
Yoruba and English h istories in t he text-books. There was also the
memory of the women from !sara, trudging the forty plus mi les from
!sara laden l ike omolank.e, the push-carts which had begun to
compete with the human alaaru. I saw them waylaid by the
adana, forced to disgorge a portion of their merchand ise at the
gates of A beokuta, after carrying them an inhuman distance. And of
course the immediate outrage against my own prize pupils who could
no longer come early to their lessons because of the tax man 's
harassment became a personal affront. Before I fel l asleep , I had
made up my m i nd that when I grew u p , no khakied official was
going to extract one penny in tax from my hard-earned salary.
The Group met till late. I had long fallen asleep on the bench in
the dining-room and woke up the fol lowing morning in a bed in the
dormitory of M rs Kuti's Class. On the fol lowing morn ing at breakfast
I heard , for the first time, the expression Egba Women's Union .
There appeared to be some further bandying around of alternative:
titles but, fi nally, a new movement appeared to have emerged ,
Push-cart.
Port<:r.

1 84

formally, with that name-Egba Women ' s Union .

Beere left for England shortly after th is-war or no war, there
appeared to be conferences to attend ; if it was not the Christian
M ission , it was the Colonial M ission. Wild Christian 's shop at A ke
became a focus for women from every corner of A beokuta. Mama
Aduni became a kind of Roving Marshal, showing u p at all hours
with women of every occupation-the cloth-dyers, weavers , basket
makers and the usual petty traders of the markets-they arrived in
ones, twos, in groups, they came from near and d istant compounds,
town sectors and far villages whose names I ad never heard. They
smelt of the sweat of the journey , of dyes, of dried fish , yam flour, of
laterite and the coconut oil of their plaits. Some were tatooed on
arms and legs, with cicatrices on their faces. In addition to the head
tie, their shoulder shawls , neatly folded were placed l ightly on their
heads for additional protection from the sun .
Far from dodging the chore of keeping shop, I could now hardly
be kept away from ir. Some of these women came fi rst to the par
sonage, as this was easier to find than the shop. Before they had even
stated their business I had jumped from my books and was escorting
them to the shop. I n the distance between the house and the shop ,
freed from the usual reproving glances t o check the 'compulsive '
questioner, I shamelessly indulged my curiosity. Only one of them
unwittingly betrayed me. Unable to take my eyes off her stooped
shou lders which , I was convinced , had been caused by carrying
merchandise through distances as far as !sara, I suggested,
'Why don ' t you take the horses of that chief at ltoko? They can
carry your loads for you . '
The woman laughed and prom ised to ask Mama Aduni to put it
forward at their next meeting. But she told Wild Christian within
minutes of their meeting. To my surprise she only shook her head
saying, 'I should have known . '
There was a long lull . No one could tell m e whether the women
had actually stopped paying taxes or nor . I now listened, without any
attempt at subterfuge to discussions between Essay and Wild
Christian-she sought his advice on many of the problems wh ich the
women brought to her. The daily routine at the parsonage in
creasi ngly revolved around the new Women 's Movement . Wild
Christian travel led, addressed groups, received her womenfolk at all
hours. Sometimes their visit to the shop lasted no longer than a
m inute: the next momen t , Wild Christian had picked up her shawl ,
185

flung a head-tie over her head snatched up her bag with an ' 0 ya' ,
and to me, ' M ind the shop , ' ushered out the complainants before
her to the source of the trouble. Invariably I locked up the shop as it
fel l dark . She often returned late , yet , even then , over a late meal
that lasted hours, she and Essay would discuss her tactics on the
immediate problem and a further strategy for resolving it definitively
in favour of t he victimized women .
Essay became a grass widower though , from what I could see, he
thrived on it. He would mull over a new approach to some problem ,
then send a note to Wild Christian in the shop. I could always tell
when it was a 'crisis note ' . If she was away from the shop at the time,
I opened it and read it. If I knew where she had gone, it provided the
perfect excuse to keep the courier i n the shop whi le I went after her,
remarking in as off- handed a manner as I could manage that I con
sidered it urgent. Sometimes I tried to recol lect how I had slipped
into the habit and wondered at the fact that Wild Christian never
raised any objection . However. she never voluntarily took me along
to these trouble spots while my curiosity was uncontrollably
aroused whenever she made her light ning departures with the
complainants. Simply by paying close attention to the brief con
versation , I easily located these trouble spots after their departure.
When there were no notes from Essay, any ar6s.Q visitor provided an
even better excuse. I simply locked up the shop, took them in tow ,
and went after her.
For the first time. I travelled out of A beokuta without ei ther parent .
In spite of h is increased involvement with the Women ' s Movemen t .
father had never lowered his sights on GCI , t h e government college
in I badan where he had scheduled me for a scholarship. I scored him
surprisingly insensitive for his anempr to prise me off A beokuta at a
time of such absorbing events. However. he had taken good care to
see that my homework preparations were never interrupted . In
between trai ling Wild Christian to her crisis points. there were pages
of exercises to be completed and brought home after shop . I sat the
exam inations. weeks passed . then the lerter arrived summoning me
for an interview in I badan. I gained a new acq uaintance i n Oye . who
had also qualified for an interview . and . we p lan ned the Big Ad
venture together, only to have my parents reduce its dimensions by
insisting on a chaperon for me. In vain I reminded them that I was
now ten . a veteran of six months survival course at A GS-nothing
1 86

would budge them , not even my record as Oddjob man with the
Women's Movement . The other boy was ad mittedly older, but Oye 's
parents had consented to his travelling alone only when they learnt
that he would be going together with the Headmaster' s son . I argued
the lack of sense of it with Joseph who had been appointed my guard .
If I was considered by this boy's parents sufficient guarantee of his
safety, wasn ' t that all the greater proof that I cou ld be trusted to look
after myself?
Joseph looked at me with something akin to pity. ' I hope those
white men at your new school l ike argu mentative brats. '
When the fi nal results were publ ished , my name appeared on the
l ist. I had won admission but no scholarsh ip. It meant waiting
another year for another try . Joseph took it to heart , he brooded for a
long time, then went to Wild Christian . ' Mama, please beg h im not
to argue with the wh ite man . You see , they had to adm it h i m . they
know he is clever. But do you think the white man will give food to a
native who will only get strength to chop his head off with a cutlass ? '
I was disappo inted . Before I attended t h e interview t h e idea o f
Government College was n o more than a cu riosity which lurked in
the back of my m ind. Winning an interview and travel l ing on my
own to lbadan wou ld have been a satisfactory c l imax . but I had not
counted on the physical lure of the school . My parsonage was dwarfed
by its sheer expanse , so was AGS. What it lacked in A beokuta rocks
was more t han made up with woods. orchards, brooks, farms and
small game . The candidates were drawn from every corner of the
country-at least , so it seemed . We arrived as instructed , with our
own blankets and pil lows , were housed together in one long dor
m itory where friendships developed fast and last ing from first en
counters . Appalled by my ignorance of such a d iversity of names,
facial types, places and temperaments, I became tongue-tied and for
once , asked no questions. And again , Father was right-they were
mostly MEN . But the proportion of those nearer my age was com
fort ingly h igh . This group instinctively banded together, eyed resent
fully by the ' papas' among them . One of them had a moustache.
Two other boys had travelled together from the same town. They
were also ljebu , but not from !sara. We were hardly two hours old in
Apataganga, the suburb of l badan where the school was sited , before
we were cautioned by others to beware of them . They had come with

oogun which was designed to throw all others into confusion while
Medicine (supernatural , magical)

187

they wok . uncomested , the wp places . A boy from Edo swore that he
had seen them burying something in the corner of the schoolroom
where we would sit the exams. A funher proof of their sinister i mem
was that they had arrived one day earl ier than required . Wh ile this
was to be expected from those who had to travel long distances
Ben i n . Awka, Makurdi etc . , there was no excuse for someone from
the near l jebu province to leave his station on any day other than the
day before the l merview. There could only be one reason-they had
come to ' spoil the ground' for others!
Th is last argumem was exceed ingly persuasive. and there could be
only one response . Someone proposed that we search their luggage
d uring their absence and was vociferously cheered. I had not really
believed we would, but we found an assonmem of strange objects
amulets, black powder wrapped in a piece of paper, the kind of rings
which I had seen on Paa Adatan and , a sheet of paper with strange
diagrams and words which seemed to me distortions of some biblical
names from the Old Testamen t .
I t was a grim reception awaiting t h e boy i n whose l uggage these
items had been found. While I was a willing participant in the
search , I was rather dubious about the rightness of actually con
fronting the pair with our trophy. I knew we h ad no right to search
their luggage, yet I accepted that we needed to do it. Confronting
them with our discoveries was another matter-for a start, what did
these things mean ? Why shouldn 't anyone be in possession of
amulets, black powder and a paper fil led with cabal istic signs? I
thought of Bukola, the abik.u, and my fingers wen t round my own
wrist where Father' s visitor had i ncised m ysterious potions imo my
bloodstream . There did not appear to be a qualitative difference
between these varied ' possessions. '
The two boys saw the grim circle of accusers, but only one pair of
eyes flew directly to the corner to behold the laid-out i tems on the
bed . His face worked , enraged, he ended up spluttering.
' You can all go to gaol for this. You are robbers, th ieves. When I
report you to the police you will see . '
The Edo boy who had alerted u s i n the first place said . ' M y father
is a police officer. Last month he arrested somebody for using bad
juju against another man. That man nearly died . '
The beleaguered boy reacted this challenge b y turning t o h is
townsman . as if for help. His friend looked confused . not quite
knowing what to do. The next momem the juju-maker spun rou nd
188

and walked fast into the night.

' Don ' t let him escape! ' h is main accuser shouted and they all sped
after him. I did not move. The pace of events left me in as great an
uncertainty as the other Ijebu boy with whom , apart from two or
three others, I found myself alone in the room . I wal ked up to h i m .
' Do you believe in this juju ? '
H e shrugged . ' He does , ' nodding toward the exit through which
everybody had j ust departed.
' But what about you ? '
' I don ' t know. I swot hard . I need a scholarship o r I ' ll never get
any education . '
' Bu t your father doesn ' t make you any juj u ? '
H e shook his head . ' He used t o be a Moslem . Now he i s a
Christian . As far as I know he has never used juju. Maybe that's why
he is so poor. '
He had picked up a boo k , preparatory to read ing. I decided to risk
bothering him with one more question. ' Wh at did he bury in the
corner of the classroom ? '
' Oh , so they saw us .
' You mean you buried it with him ? '
H e shook his head . ' No , but I watched hi m . '
' And you didn ' t try to stop him ? '
' Why should I ? D o you believe i n it? '
I shrugged in turn . ' I am not really sure . '
' Wel l , there you are. Nobody i s sure . '
They trooped back later, having lost him in the dark. I told the
Edo boy what the fugitive 's friend had told me.
'Right' he said, 'We ' l l get a priest to say prayers over it tomorrow
morning . '
I looked a t him i n surprise. ' What will that do? '
' It would destroy its power' he replied .
I was not satisfied . ' How will he know what kind o f prayer to say?
He doesn ' t know what kind of juju it is . '
Someone else offered , 'There are only two kinds o f oogun-the
bad and the good . Any prayer can undo the power of the former . '
Then another voice suggested that i t was safer i f we dug i t up
altogether and threw it on some rubbish heap.
There were voices raised in terror. ' You don ' t know what you are
saying. Who is going to take such a chance? Go near a thing like that
and have your hands wither? Count me out' .
1 89

Before I knew what I was saying. I had boasted . ' My hands won ' t
wither. '
' Yes ? ' came back the sneer. ' I suppose your father has " baked and
seasoned ' ' you ? '
' No , n o t m y father. My grandfather did . '
I immediately earned some strange looks. Some o f the boys drew
funher away from me, while others crowded round in curiosity. ' A re
you serious or joking?'
' Let's go and dig up that thing and you ' l l see . '
I felt quite light-headed as I picked u p the lantern . The Edo boy
fol lowed and soon I was heading a procession of five or six boys to the
schoolroo m . The Edo boy directed us to the corner. we picked up
some sticks and dug .
We had hardly scraped down to three inches before we came on
the wh ite bundle. about the size of an orange . I picked it up by the
tip of its tie and took it over to the pavement in the m iddle of the
lawn.
Someone asked . ' Wh at do we do with it?' to which the Edo boy
promptly repl ied . ' Burn it of course. That ' s what they do in coun
with the bad juju which gets seized . '
So we unscrewed the cover o f the lantern . soaked the bundle in
kerosene and threw a l ighted match on it. The cloth caught fire
im mediately. burnt for a while and then commenced a series of sm all
explosions from within . A panicle of something was flung out ,
land ing quite close t o t h e feet o f one o f the boys. While the rest o f us
simply drew back instinctively, he panicked and shouted .
'Epe l o fo ja'de y;n ! '
and fled . The infection was instan t . We al l turned and raced back to
the dormitory , some screaming 'Jesu ' 'Jesu Gbam i ' all the way . Even
through the tumult however. I heard the Edo boy m uttering.
repeatedly . ' S . M . O . G .. S . M . O . G . . . .' l i ke a mystic incantation.
When we had all regained some measure of san ity back in the
dormitory, I asked him what he had been reciting.
' S . M . O . G . ' he replied. ' Have you never heard it? It stands for
Save M e 0 God. When you are reall y in a hurry, it is quickest to use
the initials . '
The cause o f all the excitement m ust have returned during the
night. When morn ing came his luggage was gone and h is bed was
" That's dangerous spells spurting from its mourh.

1 90

not slept i n . We never saw h im at the i nterview. Good riddance, was

al l I though t to myself, but the Edo boy sat up in his bed , bot h hands
clutching his head . I asked h i m , 'Were you st ill thinking of having
him arrested ? '
H e shook h i s head i n a most t roubled manner. ' You don ' t see. Just
see what careless fools we were . going to sleep like that . He could
have kil led us with his juju during the n i g h t ! If my fat her got to hear
of this . . . .
'Wh y . what would he do ? '
' He would beat m e for carelessness. That is how t o get yourself
killed. Or m aim ed for life . ' He looked round slowl y . sank i n to ut ter
despair and even turned to broken Engl ish ,
' Look how we sleep l i ke m u n m u . We no even sabbe wetin that
bastard done leave behind . '
' What are you worrying about ? Keep say ing S . M . O . G . '
He brightened u p . nodded eagerly and we went out for our
showers.
'

Ransome- Kut i ' s curiosi ty knew no bou nds. He adm i red the govern
ment schools for some t h ings but was , in the ma i n . du bious about
the abi lity of the wh i te teachers to impart a worthy education to an
African .
' For one t h i n g ' he said to me, ' t hey can not im part character to a
pupi l . Not the right character . What a school l i ke AGS does is to give
our boys character. No other school can touch i t . What did you t h i n k
o f t hose wh i te teachers ? '
I rem i nded him that we had not been taugh t , only in tervi ewed
and made to sit fu rther exam inations.
' Yes . yes . but they spoke to you . You spoke with them. What
opinion did you form ? '
' They seemed n ice enoug h . B u t I sti ll found i t d ifficul t t o under
stand them al l the ti me-we all did . This speaking through the
nose . . .
' You 'II get used to t hat . I got used to it m yself. H m . I know the
white man at hom<. , which is really where to get to know them . I am
glad I went to Englan d . Makes one bet ter fi ued to cope with the
small boys they send here as their colonial officers. Some are not bad
though . But as teachers . . . no, I still don ' t know why A yo wants to
send you to their school . '
Disloyally, I bl urted out . ' I l i ke the place now . '
191

His eyes widened . ' You really do ? You prefer it to being here . '
' I think I am goi ng to like it uncle . '
He looked at me as i f h e was seeing me anew. Amazing . Now that
is amazing. You real ly prefer . . . ' And then he recovered quickly,
' But then you haven ' t even completed a year here. You haven ' t
really become a Grammarian . '
' I l i ke the school , ' I insisted . ' I hope I can get a scholarsh ip. '
' Now that 's it ! ' he exploded . ' I was trying to remember the one
advantage wh ich could possibly speak for that school . Yes , they do
award schol arsh ips. Right . if you obtain a schol arsh i p . all righ t . that
will be good for Ayo. But you m ust see me every hol iday. I want to
know how they go about their teach ing . '
I promised I wou ld.
'They teach you to say " Sir" in those schools. Only slaves say Sir.
That is one of their ways of removing character from boys at an
i mpressionable age-Sir. sir, sir, sir, sir! Very bad . So you must come
and see us during the vacation . . . ' Another shortcoming struck him
and he looked rather wistful , shaking his head . ' A nd they hardly ever
use the cane there-now that is a serious m istake . '
' I don 't think so princi pal . '
' No . You don ' t .bel ieve that caning is good for character? '
'No, principal . '
' Oh dear. oh dear . oh dear . You of al l people. En iola' s son ? '
' N o , princi pal . '
He sighed . shook his head dolefully once more and continued
down the corridor.
Beere was on the h igh seas. heading home. One morning the
newspapers were fi lled with denunciations of her activities i n
Eng land . A t a conference-or a public lecture-she had claimed that
the women of Egbaland led a pauper's existence. They were wret
ched . underprivileged and ruth lessly exploited . The four-page
newspaper carried a long letter contest ing her statements and up
braid ing her temerity in tell ing such l ies against t he noble women of
Eg ba. It was a d isgrace and Beere was a traitor to her own country
women . The letter invited the British people to visit A beokuta for
themselves. There t hey would see prosperous women , even the
average Egba woman lived in comfort and splendour. There were
hospi tals galore . the town was spotlessly clean and housing was
sumptuous. M rs Ransome-Kuti was advised to stick her nose i n
192

whatever business took her to England . and leave the concern for the
welfare of Egba womanhood to the one man who had always made it
his benevolent concern , the father of all Egba himself-the A lake of
A beokuta.
Even as the women were gathering for a meeting arranged by the
Group to decide what reply to make to this attack , the same journal
published a letter in her defence by someone who signed himself
'On looker' . Th is writer confirmed Beere ' s claims in detai l , referred
his readers to the nu merous hovels hidden away in l kereku .
l berekodo , Ago-owu etc. where the women bu rrowed like rats to eke
out a miserable existence. At the meeting, the new copy was passed
from hand to hand . Even those who could not read wanted to see it.
Final ly. Ma lgbore . the white- haired lady took the paper and read it
out . translating the contents. Shouts of approval rent the air. Then
Kemberi took the floor.
'The other letter, that one which says that you are all mill ionaires.
was signed by Atupa Parlour and some of those prostitutes of the
A lake . Because a mere handful of them have accumulated some
ji"biti wealth and mince in and out of the palace dripping with gold
trinkets. they forget that they are still l iving among t hose who can not
even give their children two square meals a day. Wel l . Beere is on her
way . When she arrives, Egba people will know who is the real odale.
But there is one thing you must all keep in mind-the hand is the
hand ofJacob but . . . we know who Esau is ! '
Another rose . 'Of cou rse . I can confirm that . The A lake put them
up to it and it was the D . O . who put it in the A lake's head . The
D . O . was still at the palace when Kabiyesi sent for Atupa and her
wealthy friends. The letter was wait ing for them when they arrived .
all they had to do was put their fi ngerprint at the bot tom-Atupa
can ' t read A from B. They did not write that letter themselves. Si nce
when has Atupa Parlour been able to put two words together except
to say . ' ' Wait . let me take off my wrapper. ' ' '
In the m idst of the gales of derisive laughter which followed .
Daodu strolled in . holding also a copy of the Onlooker's statement.
' What you women should do.' he sai d . ' is prim a hundred copies
of this. Take them with you when you go to meet Beere and
distribute it at the port . '
The idea was acclaimed . Daodu resumed his stroll while the
Fraudulent.
Traitor.

193

meet ing con tinued . He was back ten minutes later.

' Make it a thousand . Yes , one thousand. Hand them to all the
people just disembarking and distribute them among those who have
come to meet them . '
Again the women chorussed their approval . Daodu did not reach
the end of the path before he turned back yet agai n , his face set , and
walked briskly back to the meeting . ' Make it ten thousand . Yes ,
print TEN THOUSAND. We ' ll find the money somehow. Scatter
them in the air, spread them right under the nose of the colonial
govern ment in Lagos. Yes , pri nt ten thousand ! '
There was no time to lose. Daodu now took over the direction of
arrangements for welcoming back his Beere from England . He
overlooked no detai l . He ordered huge water-pots, the same size as
ours in A ke , to be bough t , buried all over the compound and fi l led
with water. He conferred with Wild Christian and the other leaders
in the Group over the feed ing of the crowd of well -wishers who were
bound to descend on the compoun d . I caught, I believed, a glimpse
of the worki ngs of his mind-Daodu wanted his wife's homecoming
to be an even greater tri umphal entry than his, beginning in Lagos
and swelling in magnitude to envelop her detractors and overwhelm
them completely.

1 94

XIV
Mrs Kuti ' s return changed the A GS compound into festival grounds.
In addition to the water-pots, Daodu had ordered hundreds of oil
lamps. Bamboo poles were cut in four foot lengths and buried along
the paths, round the fields, in the kitchen compounds and the oil
lamps were placed in their hol lows. The corridors of the vast man
sion , the ledges on the arched pil lars , benches, garden tables also had
their quota of lamps. When they were lit at night, the compound
looked as if it had been invaded by m i l l ions of giant fire-flies. Huge
trays , pots and basins and baskets moved in and out of the rows of
ligh t , loaded wirh food . There were songs, sudden roars of ' Dao-o-o
o-o-o-o-o . . . Bee-re-e-e-e-e-e-e-e . . . ' as one or the other of the
couple appeared in some part of the compound. Groups of women
poured end lessly into the compoun d , some of them preceded by
their own d rummers. They had no sooner passed than another en
tered from a wholly d ifferent direction . Two or three would meet
along the same path , there would be a medly of rhythms and
melodies, then they would merge or sim ply separate again, retaining
their own identities , filter through the crowds or dance upstairs to
greet the newly arrived . From time to t ime a group would fal l silen t .
A bove t h e sounds o f singing and shouting in other areas o f the
compound would rise the voice of a priest , offering yet another
p rayer of thanksgiving for Beere 's safe return . I had never seen
Daodu so proud, a big man already, he was visibly bursting with
satisfaction and pride at the occasion. I warched him closely whenever
I came close to h i m ; it seemed to me that I was looking at a rare
event-a grown man who was unabashedly happy. His barrel chest
was, if anything , thrust further outwards than I had ever seen i t . His
shoulder appeared to have gained a few more inches, he rolled from
side to side, filling out the huge agaada which he h ad selected for the
occasion . He remained mostly upstairs , but would often look out of
different windows , his eyes taking in everything , turning to give
orders and po int in a particular directio n . I t was clear that the
Women ' s Un ion had a rruly form idable ally in Daodu .
1 95

Towards m idnight the crowd appeared to diminish; strol ling

t h rough the com pound however, I found that what had happened
was that the women had reduced their activities . They were seated or
sleeping in every nook and corner, in every corridor, resolved to keep
vigil till daybreak. I went to sleep sometime later but was soon woken
up by a commotion at the gates. I heard shouts, and rush ing feet.
When I leapt out of bed and rushed to a window, I found a man
already there , swathed in a big dressing-gown . It was Daodu . H is
eyes were trained on the crowd j ust outside the gate where the
trouble was taking place . He called out. The crowd turned , then
parted . In the middle , helpless in the grip of other women was a
young woman , stark naked . Her captors began to lead her towards
the building, heaping abuses and blows on her. On her head was a
calabash of ebo. In the fl ickering l ights I saw that it contained the
body of a dog , cloven in two from head to tail . I t was covered in a
mess that could have been made up of blood , palm-o i l , ashes or some
kind of powder. A round it were kola-nuts. some coins-mostly
pennies and onini, cowrie shells and palm kernel husks. The
wom an 's body was already covered in weals where she had been
beaten . But it was her face which held me riveted . There was an
unearthly quality about it so that , just as her body d id not appear
to take any notice of the blows, her face registered nothing of the
pain . It shone vividly in the l ight of the oil- lamps but it registered
nothing. Her luminous eyes stared straight before her except
once, when a screaming woman moved directly in front of her and
screamed:
' Dahun! Tan i ran e ? '
Then she stopped , turned her eyes on t he woman and rested them on
her, without expression , until the procession moved on again towards
us.
When they were below the window, Daodu asked them again what
the matter was, ordering them to stop further blows on the woman.
He rem inded them that Beere was fatigued after her jou rney and the
strain of the welcome, and urged them to keep their voices down .
The male night guard provided details of what had happened . He
had found the woman inside the compound, with the igba ebo
' Sacrifice, a ritual offering.
A coi n , equivalent to a cent, no longer i n use.
A nswer! Who sent you?
Calabash of sacrifice.

1 96

on her head. He had actually found her close to the house, not far
from where he was then standi ng-he pointed out the place. When
he challenged her, she fled , escaped through a gap in the fence and
ran to the fron t of the gate where she tried again to deposit the ebo.
By this time his shouts had aroused the other women and they helped
him capture the intruder. That was all.
Daodu turned to the women . ' Does anybody know her? '
The women looked at one another, at the captive. shook their
heads. They muck their palms across each other, hissed , sighed and
cursed. The mystery of her sudden material ization had disconcerted
them . The path was broad , was more than effectively lit. There were
people everywhere one stepped in the compound that nigh t . Yet this
woman , stark naked, with a conspicuous igba ebo on her head had
penetrated right up to the walls of the mansion where she. would have
deposited her evil load but for the vigilance of i:he n ight guard. No
one knew her, and she would not speak. I noticed in fact that no
fu rther effort was being made to make her speak . It was as if, at some
moment, all the women knew for certain that the woman could not
be made to speak .
One woman said. ' A tupa Parlour must have sent her . '
The suggestion became a n accepted fact even before the utterance
was completed . Voices were raised in execration of this d iabolical plot
to injure Beere through satanic means. The A lake also came into it at
some poi nt but the general verdict was that Atupa Parlour had sent
the woman .
Daodu looked nonplussed. It was only four o 'clock in the morning
and he had not quite solved what to do with the n aked woman
standing below h i m . I could see that there would be no more sleep
for me that night, so I hoped that he would decide to hold court as he
normally did with his school offenders. I tried to phrase the charges
but they all fel l short , incom plete. l had never known any case of a
naked woman caught prowling in AGS with an igba ebo on her head .
I wondered how Iku would handle her defence.
Final ly Daodu ordered them to keep her under close guard until
daybreak, then send for the pol ice.
The women led her away to the lawn behind the kitchen.
They formed a ring around her and made her stand, the calabash
on her head , until daybreak . Then they prodded her forward
and led her through the streets, still naked, to the police station
stngt ng,
197

Arupa Parlour on ngb 'ebo ru

Gbogbo oloye n ' tagbure
Obviously, before dawn they had also decided that the Egba chiefs
had someth ing to do with the attempt . Even with the coming of
dayl igh t , the neutral expression on the woman 's face did not change.
Explanations were numerous throughout the following day and for
days afterwards. The commonest appeared to be that the carrier had
been bathed in a potion which rendered her invisible-it was for this
reason thar she had to be naked . The potion must have been
defective however, making its effect wear off before her mission was
completed , hence her sudden appearance from nowhere at all in
front of the walls of the mansion . What the ebo was meant w do. no
one could say , except that it was directed against Beere and was
certainly not a friendly. welcom ing gesture from whoever had sent it .
On their way back from the pol ice station the women made a detour
past Atupa Parlour's house at I kereku. They smashed more wi ndows
there and threw debris through the windows into her famous
' parlour' . She herself was rumoured to have now taken permanent
refuge at the A a fin .
The meetings of the women , probably as a result o f the attempt on
Beere 's health-or even her life-became galvanized by a new sense
of urgency . Leaflets were printed al most every other day on one
subject or the other. Wild Christian drafted some or. to be more
accurate , she spoke her ideas aloud to Essay who then made notes . re
wrote everyth ing in his neat longhand , then pushed the sheets of
paper towards her saying. why don 't you get the women to discuss
that tomorrow? I had now settled fully into my role as Special
Courier, moving swiftly between Igbein and A ke, the shop . Mama
Aduni's, Mama Igbore and Kemberi, settling down longest wherever
there appeared to be some promise of action . The general meetings
cont inued , the read ing and writing lessons had been resumed and I
had begun to wonder if one of my pupils would not make a better
wife than Mrs Odufuwa. She was younger. lively and teased me
incessantly. She was also un married , whic h . I had then discovered ,
was rarher important in the making of such dec isions. And she also
had the habit of saying that she was eager to learn . so that she could
speak grammar to me when we were married . Si nce I had not

Atupa Parlour is carrying round offerings

All titled chiefs are selling vegetables.

1 98

men tioned the subject ro her, I felt that this was a point in her
favour. respond ing without any prompting ro what was already going
on in my mind. Unfortunately some of the others had also declared
their intention ro marry their ' young teacher' . Wild Christian was
constan tly urged by them ro feed me properly so that I could grow up
quicker and catch up with them and con ti nue t heir lessons in a
secure, matrimonial home . They had a habit of gesturing in very
secretive ways when they said this, so that the women around roared
with laughter. They would look wise and knowing, including m y
favourite pupil, in ways which my first wife-ro-be would never have
permiued herself. It was at once embarrassing and intriguing, I never
quite knew what ro make of them and yet I g u essed that they were
referring ro the secret rites that went on between husband and wife.
They had inexhaustible energy and appeared to be intimidated by no
one, not even Beere, Wild Christian , or Daodu . In the 'classroom'
however, they were t ransformed . When one of them became roo
h igh-spirited, the others were quick ro reprove her, the favourite
proving the most constant al ly. I decided that we would get married
after I became a doctor.
The Group now held their own regular meetings aparr from the
general one. At one such meeting it must have been decided that ,
just as an hour had been set aside for read ing. writing and arithmetic,
another for health questions and so on , a period should also be set
aside for the airing of tax problems. I arrived at my observation post
one day to find the gathering engaged at one of these sessions. I t
starred out l i ke any other, but culminated in t h e first o f the women ' s
marches on the A afi n .
Several women had spoken o f their experiences with the Tax of
ficers . The women's original resolution had been turned down , it
seemed, or simply ignored. A t every meeting a report was given
about the course of the No More Taxation demand. It was hardly
necessary; reality was manifested in their continuing harassment on
the roads, in the markets , in their peuy businesses. These were
recounted in great detai l . ro cries of indignation . New texts were
d rafted . New delegations were chosen. The District Officer was
bom barded with petitions , demands and threats. M rs Kuri had
travelled to Lagos countless times and roured the country ro gain
support for the women 's dema.nds. At some point, much later, we
heard of the fo rmation of the Nigerian Women's Un ion . The
movement of the onikaba, begun over cups of tea and sandwiches ro
1 99

resolve the problem of newly-weds who lacked the necessary social

graces, was becom ing popular and nation-wide. And i t became all
tangled u p in the move to put an end to the rule of white men i n the
country.
For suddenly there was Oge-e-e-e-ed !
And there was Ze-e-e-e-e-ek! His oratory, we learnt , could move
mountams .
Some young , radical national ists were being gaoled for seditio n ,
a n d sedition had become equivalent t o demanding that t h e whi te
man leave us to rule ourselves. New names came more and more to
the fore .
A new grouping was preparing to visit England , just as Daodu and
Beere had done. They would demand , not j ust h igher i nstitutions for
all the colonial countries, but an end to the white man's rule. Their
people were goi ng round the whole country to collect money for this
purpose. The Women 's Union threw i ts forces behind the efforts.
Concerts were held. We surrendered our pocket monies, knowing
somehow that even our h al f-penn ies mattered in the great cause.
Oged , Zeek, Tony, Ibiam , Ojike-these were simply names, but in
A beokuta, everyone knew Beere and the Women ' s U n ion . And both
their onikaba and their aroso had said Yes to a certain movement
with the longest-winded name any of us had ever heard-The
National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons. We were anxious to
speed them on their way .
But the Women's Union still faced the Tax Problem . A t the hour
for the recital of experiences, an old woman got up to speak. She was
so old that she had to be assisted u p . The meeting was her fi rst, and
she had dragged her feeble body to the assembly as a last hope for the
menace now hanging over her head .
' I come from near Owu , ' she began , ' I h eard that some people
here are doing someth ing about the suffering wh ich the Tax people
are putting on our heads. Perhaps you can hel p . '
She began t o rummage i n the folds of her wrapper, at the end of
wh ich a knot was tied. Her fingers fu mbled at the knot, obviously
incapable of fully untying i t , so other hands rushed to help her. The
knot was unravelled and a piece of paper was taken out.
'There i t is , ' she said . ' th at is the cause of the whole trouble. I have
brought all the d isaster on my own head . . . I will tell you . I had a

Ogendrogbe Macaulay, nationalist leader.

- ' Nnamdi Azikiwe, nationalist leader.

200

son . my only son . and he died about th ree years ago. He left thi rteen
chi ldren do you hear? thirteen children from different wives . They
are all young chi ldren . When the chi ldren were brought to me , I
said , what am I to do with these chi ldren? I have no husband , and
that was my only surviving son . Even I now have to think of how to
l ive.
' Well , to cut a long story short , it happened that my son had a
farm . that was where he derived his livelihood. So people said to me.
l ya . don ' t just sit there and watch these chi ldren suffer. Go and take
over the farm . Take with you those of the wives who are not afraid of
hard work , get help from anywhere, cultivate the farm and use i ts
produce to educate the children . So I sai d . wel l . it is better to work
than to beg. I went to the farm . We have just been managing to
make a l iving from it, just a livi ng . nothing more. Even the
education of the children is stop and go . They can only go to school
one at a ume.
' Well, I thought that life was hard enough on me at my age. That
was until two weeks ago . The Tax people brought this paper, they say
that, because I have a large farm . I am to get a special assessment.
They say that I am Gbajumo because I have a large farm , but they
say nothing about the thirteen children and four women who depend
on the farm for gan. no. They say I am gbajumo with a large farm.
So . that i s the paper before you . Where am I supposed to get the
money they have written on that paper? I want you to tell me where.
Just tell me where the money is so I can go and look for it because I
tell you . in the three years we have been taking our food from that
farm . I have never seen that kind of money. Me, m y ' wives' . my
children . none of us has ever seen that kind of money in our l ives. '
In the hush of the gathering. the old woman was helped down on
her seat. A mong the Group who sat at their usual table facing the
assem bly. there was no deliberation , j ust the piece of paper movi ng
from hand to hand, then being laid on the table and smoothed flat
slowly by Mrs Kut i , a frown on her face. The silence went on and on,
mocking the spate of resolutions, delegations, consu ltations, the
high-sounding organ izations in and around the existence of the
gathering. Not unpredictably. it was Kem beri who erupted into the
silence. She was sudden ly up behind the table , pushing back her
chair with her body. Mrs Amelia Osimosu , known to the j un ior wives
' Wdl-w-do. well-known.

201

of the Osimosu compound as Kemberi looked round the tabl e , and

forced her way out from behind it:
' Enough ! We 've heard enough . 0 ya. e nso I' A ke! '
The women rose in a body. Hands flew to heads and off came the
head-ties , unfurling in the air l ike hundreds of banners. The head
ties flew downwards, turned into sashes and arced round the waists to
be secured with a grim decisiveness. Kemberi lead ing the way , they
poured out of the gram mar school compound, fil led the streets and
marched towards the palace at A ke.
There is a public frontage at the palace of the A lake; it consists of a
broad field which is almost square in shape and runs the entire length
of the palace. The field acts as a kind of buffer between the palace
walls and the public street. Wild Christian's shop was situated
opposite the A ke end of this field, on the other side of t he street. The
field was well-kept, bordered by the usual white-washed stones and
shaded by trees which stood at precise intervals along the perimeter
of the field , and on either side of a broad drive from the arched gate
to the palace building itself. Over the arch was the figure of an
elephant in repose, the symbol of royalty of Egbaland.
Bordering the field at right angles on the A ke end was a long , low
structure of wood and clay . It was broken at neat intervals by uneven
archways which were sealed two-thi rds way up by wooden crosswork
and topped by a low-slung corrugated iron roof. One side ran along
the same public road as t he palace field; the other, at right angles,
simply vanished i nto a warren of mud houses and com pounds. These
two walls hid, from the streets, the corridors of the ogboni enclave.
From the shop we saw them pass at al l hours of the day on their way
to attend a meeting of chiefs at the Aafin or their own periodic
sessions within the ogboni compound. Age appeared to be the
condition for this numinous society , yet a number of them also
strode by in crude , vigorous healt h , called out their greetings in
robust voices, looking more like warriors than participants at sessions
of cunning, experience and wisdom .
Each ogboni was i nvariably to be seen in a single broad cloth wh ich
he wore l ike a toga , one shoulder covered by the end loops. On the
other shoulder, otherwise bare, was t hrown the d istinctive shawl, a
na'rrow piece of cloth of coarse weave , tassel led at the ends, with a
It ' s time. Let us march on Ake.

202

mid-section of fluffed-out multi-coloured patterns. Some. especially

the older ogboni wore a buba beneath the covering broad cloth .
Some passed barefoot o r bare-headed , some i n leather o r woven
slippers, in the casual headgear of a soft cloth-cap whose pouch fell
over one ear. A n iron or brass staff of office was carried in the right
hand or borne before them by a servant. The broad . c ircular stiff
leather fan appeared to belong to their formal attire , but the most
d isti nctive feature of the Egba ogboni was the broad-rim med hat ,
usual ly of stiffened leather, decorated with coloured leather or raffia
strips, cloths or beads. The ogboni slid through A ke l i ke anc ient
wraiths, silent . dark and wise . a tan ned pouch of Egba h istory, of its
mysteries, memories and insights, or thudded through on warriors'
feet , defiant and raucous, broad and compact with unspoken
violence. We were afraid of them . Among other furtive h ines and
wh ispers we heard that they sent out child kidnappers whose haul was
essential to some of their rites and ceremonies. Certainly they
controlled the oro cult whose bul l-roarer sene all women i nto the
first available i ndoor refuge. It was unusual for the bul l-roarer to be
heard in daylight, and without warning. but it happened once when
I was in the shop with Wild Christian . She quickly locked t he shop
doors on us until the danger was past. Their weird chants drifted
many evenings i nto the parsonage, punctuated by concerted thuds
which , we learn t , was the sound of their staffs striki ng the clay floor
as they c ircled round in their secret enclave . There was no formal
teaching in such matters, but we came to know that in the ogboni
reposed the real power of the king and land , not that power which
seemed to be manifested in the prostration of men and women at the
feet of the ki ng. but the real power. both supernatural and cabalistic,
the intriguing , m idnight power which could make even the king
wake up one morni ng and find that h is houseposts had been eaten
through during h is sleep. We looked on them with a m ixture of fear
and fascination.
To reach their own enclave however, the ogboni had to pass
through the central elephant-topped archway . then turn left into the
private path which led into their sector. The central driveway led
directly i nto the palace complex, through a passageway under the
long, two-storey building which formed the outer line of the palace
structures. This building housed the offices and council rooms of the
'A secret male cult with rhe task of carrying out sentences.

203

Native Admi nistration , presided over by the A lake . And at the in ner
wal l of that building, emerging from the tunnel beneath it into a
courtyard , the outer world stopped .
This brief, low tunnel, roofed by the upper floor of the offices
was a time capsu le which ejected us i nto an archine space fri nged
by the watchfu l , luminous eyeballs of petrified ancients and
deities . For this was my first impression on emerging from the brief
shadow of the tunnel into the sun l i t courtyard. From the humane
succession of bookshop , church , cenotaph, sewing academies, bicycle
repair shacks, barbers' shops , petty trader stalls, the stone and con
crete bulk of the Centenary Hal l , stray goats and noisy hawkers, tree
l i ned field and office buildings. we were thrust suddenly on this arc
of silent watchers. mounted warriors-single and clustered , kneel ing
priestesses , sacrificial scenes , royal processions. Knowledge of the
names came later-the eyes of !fa, Sango , divination priests, Ogu n ,
Obatala , Erinle, Osanyin iron staffs with their rings o f mounted
divination birds . . . even the ogboni in procession , frozen i n
motio n . They surrounded the courtyard on a low wall which formed
the half-circle of the courtyard and was shielded by an outjuuing roof
held up in turn by houseposts, elaborately carved in human and
animal figures. The low wal l was only the outer l i ne of a curved
passageway whose in ner wall housed grottoes fil led with more carved
denizens of the ancestral world . Passageways opened into i t from
various i n teriors of the palace, radially, and these were again filled
with intervals of votive presences, progressively shadowy as the
passages receded .
One of these passages, to the left , facing i nwards from the tunnel .
was broader than others. I t rose on wider, staggered planes and
vanished i nto a pillared space over wh ich rose an independent unit
with a wooden fretwork verandah which overlooked the main
courtyard-these were the l iving quarters of the A lake. A t h is hour of
pu blic audience the crowd gathered in the courtyard below. When
the A lake appeared up i n the verandah , men prostrated themselves
flat on the ground and the women would yinrinka, a motion which
i nvolved getting on their knees with their elbows on the ground,
then tilting until they touched the ground with one side , t hen the
other before returning to their half-crouch positio n . The petitioners
or complainants were then called upon in turn by one of the A lake's
clerks or chiefs , judgements were awarded , advice given , settlements
and arbitrat ions recommended or i nstituted on the spot.
204

I had wi tnessed the scene several times. We were first taken to visit
the A lake. Tinu and I. one day after church. I had hardly begun
school then , and the lasting impression was one of a cemetery with no
headstones, no marbles and whitewashed graves, only wooden
figures which did not quite conform to the usual shapes of angels and
cherubs such as fi lled the graveyard beside the churc h . But there had
also been the fam il iar surrounding of the A lake ' s private garden
which was nearly as l uxuriant as Essay's, but boasted a number of
plants that I had not seen before . Most memorable of all however was
his aquariu m , the first I had encountered . It was at the bottom of a
series of flagstones, in a kind of i ndoor courtyard , and contained
both grey and coloured fishes. One of them , we were warned , would
give an unpleasant sensation if touched . At the first opportun ity I
slipped out from t he parlour and went and touched i t , nearly falling
i n . The sensation was a frightening one; I had no choice but to keep
it to myself for fear that I would never be allowed inside the palace
agai n . The Alake made much of the Headmaster's fam ily. largely on
account of our mother, of whom he was very fond. During later
visits , he held Tinu and me by either hand , pestered us with
questions and referred to us as h is ' yekan ' . When I asked mother
what ' yekan' meant , I was most unprepared for the news that it
meant that we were his relations. The world of the parsonage and the
Aafin were so far apart , I could not see how the two could be lin ked
in any way. The king. in spite of his periodic appearances in church
where he had his own pew, was compelled by h is position to fol low
the onsa. Becoming a king was to 'je oba' . and this, we i nformall y
gathered , was t o b e taken l iteral ly. When t h e old king died , his heart
and liver were removed and the new king was required to eat t hem .
Noth ing upset me more than to learn , so casually. that t he man who
had taken me on his lap and claimed I was his yekan had actual ly
eaten human flesh , even for the sake of kingsh ip. For some time after
this I would watch the A lake on our visits, wondering if I could
detect the stai n of human blood on his l ips. and doubly puzzled to
find there nothing but a warm . crinkly smile. I never fourid the
courage to ask him directly; i t seemed to be one of those very few
things in the world which one dared not ask about , I could not find
the courage to do it!
I knew the hour of the A lake's audience and sometimes when we
were two at the shop, I risked going over to watch the various
petitioners. Once he saw me and beckoned to me at the end of the
205

audience . Afraid that he perhaps wanted to send a message to Wild

Ch ristian . rhus exposing my presence there . I fled . After that I went
very rarely. taking great care not to be detected . The cases were
varied . and many of them were fil led with comic drama. Some had
nothing of the humorous about them . except for the retainers or
some attendant chiefs who seemed to quarry bel ly- laughs out of any
situation . It was at these sessions also that I found. for the first time,
that one of those passages which led away from the arced corridor was
lined with deten tion cells . I had seen ' native' police around rhe
mouth of this passage but assumed that they were merely part of the
palace guard . At one of these sessions however, a door in the passage
was un locked and a group of offenders-men and women-were led
out by the policemen. They were flung down in the dust of the court
yard below the A lake whose thin . plain tive voice then floated down
from the balcony asking them .
'Why is it you people always have to be made to pay your tax ? '
I t was t h i s scene t h a t came most clearly to m i n d a s I turned aside half
a mile before the CMS bookshop to take a short cut which took me to
the rear of St Peter's parsonage , through the cemetery , then through
the school compound, through BishopsCourt . emerging by the
nearer gate opposite Pa Solotan ' s house . then round the back of the
church to Wild Christian 's shop . stopping to pass the news to Bunmi
who was on duty at the time. I secured myself a good observation
position a ful l five minutes before the advance-guard of the women
crowd burst on the palace and into the courtyard to demand an
immediate audience with their ' Baba' . The ak.oda at the tunnel
entrance began by confronting them with an attitude of extreme
haugh tiness.
' Who are you ? Who sent you ? What do you mean ? Have you ever
known Kabiyesi grant audience at this hour? Go back and warn those
noisy people coming beh ind you that . . .
When the ' noisy people' swarmed through the gates and spilled
into the fore field of the palace, fi lling i t completely , the rest of the
akodas' questions and com mands stuck in h is throat. He goggled and
began to wal k backwards into the palace, to be replaced by a hurrying
squad of junior chiefs. I recognized them as the retainers, some of
them with some m inor palace titles, who usually lounged on mats in
the courtyard before the passage that led to the A lake 's quarters.
Some of them I had also seen as functioneers during the king' s
'

206

audiences, selecting the next peuuoner to be heard and running

errands like clerks of a court . Their urgent m iss:on seemed to be to
persuade the advance-guard to keep the women from entering the
main courtyard of the palace. The women replied that the crowd
would remain peacefully in the field as long as Kabiyesi emerged to
receive the delegation of women who were then on their way . The
chiefs thanked them , returned to del iver their message to the king.
Not long after, the formal leaders arrived-Mama lgbore who
astonished me by keeping pace with the others to arrive so quickly,
Wild Christian , Mama Adun i , two or three other women and of
course-Kemberi . When the A lake appeared , they curtsied , going
down on their knees, but no more . The Alake had obviously resolved
to receive the emissaries courteously. He spoke to them with urbane
fatherli ness, his high-pitched voice coated with a persuasive concern ,
addressed them as his own daugh ters , friends or relations, inviting
them to share their civic concerns.
' Ah-ah , Moroun , yekan mi . . . And M rs Owod unni . . . I see
lgbore is here too , not to mention the clergy . . . wel l , the matter
must be heavy. But even the very composit ion of you here, who i n
effect make up t h e c i t y , assures me that there is nothing w e can not
solve. Noth i ng can be beyond solution with the group I see before
me, so let's get to i t . What is the matter in our beloved Egbaland ? '
Kemberi knelt again, greeting him , ' Kabiyesi o , Kabiyesi ' , shifted
from one knee to the other, then stood up. ' Kabiyesi , the message
which I bri ng you today, is the message of all the women who have
left their stal ls, their homes and children, their farms an petty
affairs to come and visit you today . They are the suffering crowd who
are gathered on your front lawn-you can see them yourself Kabiyesi ,
they are all the woman hood of Egba, and they have come to say
Enough is Enoug h . The voice with which I speak is the voice of our
Beere, M rs Kut i . The words which you hear from me are the words of
Mrs Kuti. She asked me to tell you , on behalf of those women you see
outside, that the women of Egba have had enough . They are starv
ing, their chi ldren are starving, they are diseased , they have no hope
of education or a better future , and yet thei r mothers have more and
more burdens placed on them . Now the women are saying , Enough.
'Once upon a time Kabiyes i , the parakoyi in the markets formed
an honoured , revered institut ion . They kept the peace, their presence
gave us a sense of security, even a sense of being in our own homes
during the long hours of keeping market. What we gave , we gave
207

g ladly. We set ourselves a toll which we contributed to keep them fed

and clothed . Now , in these past years , they have grown beyond the
level of greed . They dip their hands in our gan. in our elubo, our
salt , vegetables , in our corn and oil , right up to the el bow and do it as
of right. They say they are em powered to do this by the chiefs . by the
council or whatever comes into their minds. It doesn ' t matter where
they get this new power, we say Enough is Enoug h . We don ' t want
them in the markets any more. We want them moved out . They
bring akoda and police to arrest our women , lock them up and even
flog them . We don ' t want to see them in the markets any more.
' And then . after the parakoyi have fil led their fat bellies, in return
for wh ich they do noth ing. the Tax people waylay our women on the
roads, raid them in the markets, in their homes, carry them off
even nursing mothers-to lock-ups until they pay their tax. Mrs Kuti
says I am to tell you that we have written petitions. held meetings,
protested everywhere about the i njustice of many of these assess
ments which are used to oppress our women . She says we have told
the council to keep t heir officers in check, to look i nto this matter of
demanding tax where the breadwin ner has not hing with which to
feed t he family. Now , the matter has reached gongo . Special o,
ordinary o, levy o, or po ll o, our Beere says I am to tell you-no
more . The women of Egba say, NO MORE TAX . Of any kind !
Simply-NO MORE TAX . Beginning from today , we reject all forms
of taxat ion ! '
Her voice had risen at this point, carrying to the nearer women i n
the fiel d . Im med iately they took u p her cry which gathered volume
and rolled through the field , filling all of A ke with that one cry:
'No more tax! We women say-No More Taxation ! '
The A lake waited for a lul l , sitting t houghtfully. weighing the
problem in rapt concentration as if it was the first time he had en
countered it. Finally he spoke:
' En!: , i t is a matter you have put very capably, A melia-I thank
you very much , I thank all of you and I t hank M rs Kuti who is not
here . '
' Sh e herself is o n the way' Kemberi assured him.
' Is she ? ' And I thought the Alake looked momentari ly worried but
recovered quickly. ' A h wel l , then we will have even more heads to
put together over the issue. But righ t now, let me ask you women
do you think it can be done? Taxation is as old as human society, can
one simply do away with it just like that ? '
208

Wild Christian replied h i m . ' Kabiyesi . over this matter. I wish to

implore you to reflect very carefully. Very carefully. The women are
saying . No more Tax. It is no time to stan asking whether taxation
began with our forefathers or not . Our women today. those women
whom we meet everyday. they are the ones we are talking about .
They cannot afford the tax . '
' That may be true' the A lake repl ied . ' I am not saying that I am
not in sympathy with their plight . But my quest ion still remains
can it be done? Is it really possi ble to have a society today where
women will not pay tax ? In any case. this is not a decision which I can
take. It is not the A lake who im poses taxat ion . it is a council of
government. The matter has to be laid before them . And what I am
asking all of you is-do you really see a body which must run a
community, using not sand but money-do you really think it can be
done, abol ishing tax just l ike that ? '
Kem beri burst i n , shaking her head vigorously. ' Ngh- ngh .
Kabiyesi . ngh-ngh. We have come to you as our Baba , as the one we
know . We do not know any council of government other than you .
You are t h e government and t h e government i s you . It i s you w e have
come to talk to, not to any chiefs or counci l . It is you who must
reflect on this matter very carefully. As Aya Headmaster has said ,
reflect very carefully. '
' I wi l l . I will ' , Alake assured her. ' But I have to summon a council
meeting. I have already done so. I have even sent for the aje/e be
cause you see, that is a ll pan of what I am saying-this mat ter extends
beyond the palace . it is not a thing we can do alone. A nd it cannot be
done overnight . So. give us time. Tel l your people, ) have promised to
look into it. The cou ncil will meet, and we will consider everything . '
He sighed then turned , somewhat wistfully I thought, i n the
direction of Wild Christian. ' Moroun . ' he said. ' let me ask you
something. You are the wife of a teacher, the Headmaster of a
school . He is in charge of the school . he supervises activities, he
decides policies and so on . Now imagine a situation which calls for a
decision which will profoundly affect the normal direction of the
schoo l . I mean , not just a question of changing the style of march ing
or of holding the morn ing assembly or even whether to declare a
school hol iday or not . I am speaking of something which goes to the
root of admin istering the school-i ncreasing or decreasing school
fees. chang ing the education curriculum-th ings like that . I want to
ask you . can the Headmaster do it alone ? '
209

My mother replied, ' No , Kabiyesi . He would call a meeti ng of h is

staff. '
The A lake nodded carefully. ' We are all in agreemem so far. Now
comes the more difficul one. Suppose , at the meeting, whatever
measure is proposed by the Headmaster is opposed by all h is staff.
This is something he believs in very much , something he sees as
necessary , perhaps a demand by the pupils' parents which he believes
in wholehearted ly. The meeting goes on all day, cominues i mo the
next , goes on for a whole week . He argues his poi ms carefully, he
tries ro win them over but they won ' t agree. Nothing he says can
make them change their minds. True, he is the boss, but he is only
Jne. He has done his best, his conscience is satisfied . Wel l , what
should a wise man do at t hat poi m ? '
Wild Christian kept her eyes on t h e ground and shook her head
sad ly. ' Kabiyesi , ' she said, ' t h is question you have asked me is one
which should really have been put to agba-igba, not to a child ,
which is what we are before you . '
' But I asked it as a question between husband and wife , ' the A lake
said.
'Wel l , ' said Wild Christ ian , ' i n that case , and since you have
spoken of satisfying one 's conscience, I wou ld say to him , if you
cannot fol low your conscience , then the job is not worth clinging to .
That is what I wou ld say tO the Headmaster. '
A l l the women in the Group nodded , gravely. The A lake stared
ahead in the absolute stillness of the courtyard . A n endless momem
elapsed and then he sighed , rose and emered the house.
The end of the audience was separately signalled from the outside
by the arrival of Beere wh ich let off the fam iliar cry ' Bee-e-e-e-e-e-e
re' from t he muhirude on the fields. She was hemmed in on all sides
and , for a while, passage into the main courtyard was impossible. As
if to compl icate matters the District Officer arrived , accompanied by
policemen who vai nly tried to clear a path for h i m . The women at the
outer fringe, that is, near the arched gate recogn ized him and , in a
good-natured way , began to tease h i m . In fact , their attitude was
extremely friend ly. as if they felt that , with his arrival , the sinister
operations of the A lake 's oppressive agems would be fully exposed .
The young Englishman however grew redder and redder in the face ,
recognizing that h e was being made fu n o f a n d reseming this slight
A well-seasoned elder.

2 10

to h is authority. He ordered the policemen to clear a way forcibly

through the crowd, which they did easily because the women co
operated . But t hen he came to where M rs Kuti was, surrounded with
anxious women who p l ied her with questions.
Those women around M rs Kuti were not as patient as the earl ier
ones. They remained stol idly where they were, evidently expecting
the District Officer's group to do the same. When the pol icemen
tried to exen pressure on them in order to clear the way, they turned
angry, let up a continuous shout of derision at the officer. His face
and neck now approaching the colour of camwood , he ran the
gauntlet of insults until he gained-and only through Beere 's in
tervention-access to the palace courtyard . I t was, I fel t certain , this
lingering sense of humiliation which made him , once he had gained
the security of the palace, mount the balcony of the offices which
overlooked the field and shout to M rs Kut i :
' Look here M rs Kut i , we are trying t o hold a serious meet i ng here .
Will you kindly keep your women in order. '
M rs Kuti replied , ' So are we , holding a serious meeting. Or do you
think we are here to play ? '
Further infuriated, t h e m a n shouted , ' Well, t e l l them to s h u t up! '
There was a pause. Mrs Kuti blinked through her glasses u pward at
the man , then inquired , ' Excuse me, were you talking ro me?'
' Yes of course I am . SHUT UP YOUR WOM EN! '
In the sudden silence which fel l over the shocked women , Mrs Kuti
made the response which flew round A beokuta for weeks afterwards,
as the 'grammar' which hammered the ill-starred District Officer i n to
subm ission . It was referred to sometimes as the grammatical TKO of
the entire uprising , sometimes the episode was simply described as
one in which M rs Kuri ' fi grammar re ! 'epa' or 'o gba n ' stu d ' , 'o gbe
fun ' and a number of other variations. It was unden iable that the
D istrict Officer was rendered speechless by M rs Kuti 's angry riposte
which rang through the hush :
'You may have been born , you were not bred . Could you speak to
your mother like that ? '
The District Officer's open-mouthed retreat was accompanied b y a
welling of the women 's angry m u rmur. There were shouts on the
A lake ro get rid of the insolent whi te man at once, within m inutes. If
he was not out, they would come i n , cut off his genitals and post
them to h is mother. Chiefs appeared on the same balcony, were
hooted away with only one demand-that white man was to leave the
211

precincts of the palace immediately as his very presence was an

abomination not merely to the women but to the palace which
belonged to the people of Egbaland . The mood was now violent, the
Group was lost amidst the m ultirude, vainly attempting to placate
the women .
What would h ave happened next, was impossi ble to predict . I had
retreated to the edge of the field but remained close to the office
blocks, fearful now of being trampled to deat h . I passed M rs Kuti
once in the crush and saw her smile for the first time that day saying,
' Hm , l 'oogun , o ti ya de' bi . '
She asked me where my mother was, little realizing that she and
M ama Aduni h ad been within arms length of her during the ex
change, before the surge of the crowd prised them apan again .
The tension was not im mediately relieved, but its focus was shifted
away-fortunately for the wh ite man-by the arrival of one of the
ologboni. They h ad been arriving in ones and twos to confer with the
A lake on t he crisis and their passage had been quite uneventfu l . Now
came t he Balogun of one of the Egba districts, an arrogant, puffed
up individual , or perhaps it was simply that h e felt it his duty to act
in accordance with h is title, which was that of a war-leader, in face of
this civil disturbance . Undaunted by the sheer mass and mood of the
gathering, indeed , probably provoked by it, he decided to assert his
manhood authority , hissing as he strutted through the rear section of
the crowd, accompanied by his retainers. In a voice as burly as his
figure he h issed :
' Hm-hm-hm, pshee-aw! The world is spoilt, the world is coming
to an end when these women , these agb 'eyin-to, can lay siege to the
palace and disturb the peace . ' And he raised his voice further , ' Go
on, go home and mind your kitchens and feed your children . What
do you know about the running of state affairs? Not pay tax indeed !
What you need is a good kick on your idle rumps . '
What happened next constituted the second high point o f the
uprising on that day. A fter that, no one could doubt the collective
psychic force of the women and, specifical ly, of the Beere . She was
now rumoured to exert supernatural powers-to which indeed was
already credited the exposure of that carrier whose invisibility had
worn off as she was about to set down the evil load at Beere's
doorstep . For something happened to the Balogun ' s thigh as he
Hm. m a n of strife, here already?
' Who urinate from the rear.

212

suited action to h is threat and del ivered a kick in the general

direction of the women . As he set that leg down , it simply gave way
under him and he col lapsed. Em barrassed . he very quickly scrambled
up, only to h alf-col lapse again as he attempted to set his weight on it.
He had come with about six retainers-perhaps it was t h is also which
gave h i m so much daring-and they now rushed about him in a
practised way and bore h i m off. It happened very qu ickly and
smooth ly, l i ke a famil iar exercise, reminding me of the accounts of
civil war i n Yorubaland when the war-leader's attendants would rush
to rescue h i m . when wounded , even in the face of fire. The women
were of course also spellbound-momentari ly at least-by his
collapse. In fact , those nearest to him had shrunk back, not knowing
the nature of h is sudden seizure. By the time they had recovered, the
Balogun had been swept away, leaving his brother ogboni in trouble.
For from then on, any figure in an attire which remotely resem bled
an ogboni was set u pon. His shawl was snatched , shredded , h is
wrapping cloth was stripped off him-fan, office staff. cap all had
long disappeared . The ogboni were flogged with their shawls, fans,
and were left only with their undershorts when fi nally let through a
gauntlet of abuse into the palace or back in the direction of their
homes.
And then I heard the ultimate chal lenge of the women , for this
was nor just a ral lying-song, even an ordinary war-song, but the
appropriation of the man-exclusive cult-oro-by women in a dare
to all men , ogboni or not . I could not be sure whether the women
would regard me as a 'man ' , or that , if they did , they would at least
recal l their ' young teacher' , courier extraordi nary . scou t and general
facto1um . When I saw stocky, middle-aged and elderly, grizzled
men, the fearsome ogboni, abandoning their hats, shawls, staffs of
office and run on the wind faster than I ever saw Osiki perform , and
beheld even the non-ogboni men skirting the palace environs,
moving deeper into their shops. and fi nally picked out the wording
of their new chant:
Oro o , a fe s'oro
Oro o, a fe s'oro
E t i ' lekun mo' kunrin
A fe s'oro
6ro-o, we are about to perform oro
Lock up all the men, we are bringing out oro .

213

I decided co move closer to the sanctuary of Wild Christian ' s shop

without further delay!
I found her already there , issu ing instructions about closing up the
shop. She looked worried , very worried . Since the beginning of the
women ' s movement I had never seen her so downcast . Only then did
I make an i ncredi ble discovery-Wild Christian deeply abhorred
violence! It was an astounding revelation . Her entire temperament ,
her violent outbursts o n our hapless heads had led m e to assume that
she would be i n the m idst of the tumul t-which I had myself very
reluctantly abandoned , and only for fear of my own safety. I ndeed I
had expected her to return home with trophies gathered from the
comic apparitions of those deflated terror figures. She mentioned
then that she had been looking for me in order to send me to Bunmi
to lock up the shop and , speaking more to herself than to me,
remarked that the situation had got out of hand, the women no
longer distinguished between the Balogun type, and those other
ogboni who had actually given them hel p . had encou raged their
fight against taxation and were going to the palace to speak on their
behalf. But it wasn ' t j ust those friendly ones she was concerned
with , the entire scene of violence sickened her.
Even as she supervised t he packing up of the wares which were laid
out in front of the shop , a late ogboni, com pletely unaware of what
was going on , marched confiden tly past the shop towards the Aafi n .
W i l d Christian stared a t h i m , unbelieving, for some moments, then
cried out :
' Baba! Baba, where are you going?'
The leader stopped , assured h im self that he was the one spoken to
and announced , 'To the Aafi n . We have been summoned to sort out
some trouble there-yes, I can even hear it from here . '
' Baba, get back quickly. I f they catch sight of you . . .
Something in the renewed noise from the palace gate made me
real ize that the women there had seen the old man . Wild Christian
heard it too . She rushed out and dragged h i m i nto the shop, shut one
half of the door on h im and said , ' Quickly Baba. Remove your robes,
remove all your ogboni gear . '
The urgency i n her voice only m ade him more confused . ' En h ?
E n h ? Ewo l o t u n d e y i ? Enh ? '
She reached behind the door, snatched off h is shawl and hat and
_

'

What new development is this?

2 14

threw them beh ind the coumer. ' Baba. kia-kia. your wrapper-take
it off. Throw it behind with the resL Leave only your shons . '
The women arrived momems later. about twemy o f them . There
was only one direction in which the ogboni they had seen so clearly
could have disappeared and this was Wild Christian 's shop. They
gathered in from while we cominued pack ing up goods from the
display m ats and trestles. Wild Christ ian did nm anempt w deny
that the man was in the shop.
' If it is that old man you are looking for. he is inside changing. He
is not an ogboni. '
There was a chorus of disapproval . ' A h . Mama Wole . how can you
tell us that when we saw him with our own eyes . '
' Wel l . when you saw h i m . h e was. but now he i s changing. I ' ve
wid him w take his ogboni things off because the ogboni are no
longer wamed here wday. What more do you wam ? '
'They are sti l l enemies . ' i merjected one o f the women, ' i n o r out
of their silly shawls they are our enemies. Are they not the ones who
have been taxing us? Mama , let 's apportion t h is one his own seniz
before we let him go . '
The rest raised shouts of support . Another added . ' Today i s the
day of reckoning for all of them , Mam a . bring him ou t . '
And yet another voice, ' We are the agb 'eyin-to. not so? They
forget that they were all born by these same agb 'eyin-to. Including
the very oldest among them! Wel l . let their mothers teach them
someth ing today . '
Wild Christian burst out laugh ing. ' Is that all that is paining you ?
Because one stupid ogboni called u s agb 'eyin-to! Listen. d i d w e come
here for that or for weightier matters? The man who insulted you has
been carried home. half-paralysed-that is heaven's justice for you . I
don ' t know this man . one of you can go inside and ask h i m . At the
most I know only two or three of the ogboni, so don ' t think I am
protecting him because he is my ibatan . But I do not l ike trou ble, I
don ' t l ike all this violence. I t is not what we set out w do. '
They looked a l ittle moll ified . in any case, their in itial ardour had
cooled somewhat . Still one of them demanded, ' Let him take off all
his paraphernal ia. We don ' t wam w see any of it on the streets of
A beokuta today or tomorrow, even forever.
Wild Christian pushed in her head . ' Baba, fold all your attire
' Rda1ion.
215

neatly and tie it up in this cloth and go home . '

The man sighed , ' A h , I ' m i n no hurry . I will stay here until all is
quiet , then go home exactly as you say . '
Wild Christian turned t o his pursuers . ' You see . what more d o you
want ? The Baba is still suspicious of you . Go on . I ' ll see h i m off
when you have gone . '
Stil l they insisted , ' We want t o see his face. There are a number of
them for whom we are specially on the lookout. Let 's see his face and
make sure he is not one of them . '
So the old man had to show his face, introduce hi mself, and
swear that he had never done a thing against women, was going to
cast his voice on the side of the abol it ion of tax and the women could
coun t on h i m on any measures they wanted . As for the parakoyi he
had told Kabiyesi times without number t hat they were leeches and
parasites-and this was no hearsay, he had gone by the evidence of
his own wife who was a market trader like most of t hose he was then
talking to . . .
They left at last , the old man prostrated himself repeated ly,
thanked and blessed Wild Christian profusely. He sped off i n his
shorts, bundle i n hand , leaving his staff behind. He would fetch it
the fol lowing day , he said .
Calm began t o descend a s it neared dusk. A t some point, a
decision had been taken t hat the women would lay siege t6 the palace
until all their demands were granted. The calm was hastened by what
seemed an orchestrated movement from all roads and byways wh ich
led towards the palace. Th is movement contrasted deeply with the
earlier violence and chaos , yet did not appear to be a separate event;
one thing simply flowed into another, affected what i t replaced and
gave b irth to a new mood , a new atmosphere of communion and
cohesio n .
They came from t h e d i rection o f Iporo , I berekodo, l bara, Lantoro
and Adatan , from other byways with i n the heart of the city itself.
The lines of h umanity cu rled through h idden agbole to swel l the
other t h rongs on a final approach along the road that led to the gates
of the palace . They were l ike the caravans from !sara, laden with
stocks and foods, only there were streams and streams of them . From
about an hour before sunset , as if t hey had been signal led i n ,
p rocessions o f women brought food and greetings from outlying
villages, market women arrived , having closed their stalls for the day,
hastening to partake of the events at the palace. The cries of welcome
2 16

began to overcome those of outrage and pursu it. The newcomers

recog ni zed faces , reported their arrival to the leaders who, by these
means, now began to regain control of their fol lowershi p . Mats
arrived on the heads of the women. There began a transformation ,
not only of the physical terrai n . but of the shapes and motions of the
gatheri ng. Fires were lit; for the first time, water and food were
thought upon . The younger women were rounded up and assigned
to different chores.
Eveni ng had settled on the field when , as if to further enhance and
consolidate this new mood , word came that a woman was in labour.
Wild Christian, who had by now dispatched Bunmi home with the
shop basket and returned to the field , hastened there with her
lieutenan t , Mama Adun n i . They examined the woman and decided
that she must be rushed to hospital . It was too late. The excitement
of the previous hours, the rush . the noise, the shoving and pushing,
had been too much for the baby which, no one was at al l surprised to
learn , was a girl. It was nearly my first chance to watch a live birth
but , after bei ng ignored i n the panic and excitement M rs Kut i , who
was hurrying in after news had reached her, saw me standi ng placidly
among the ring of women and chased me off. Still , I watched them
bury the after-birt h under one of the trees on the lawn . Nothing
could h ave happened of such a profound propitiousness as the birth
of the child-and a female! The mood , which had already subsided
i nto one of quiescent i n-gathering now became radiant with joy. The
baby was c leaned , the umbi lical cord tied-I was al lowed to see none
of this but the running commentaries, instructions , advices were
more than enough vivid transmission-and finally, both the mother
and child were taken to the Catholic Hospital a hundred yards
away-Oke Padi .
And yet more and more caravans arrived . As yet another group was
welcomed , Mama Igbore shook her head and said ,
' I t is a s if t h e heavens themselves have opened up, a s if the
graveyards have opened and all the dead and forgotten peoples of
other worlds are pouring to join us here . '
From a swiftly shifting point i n the various groupings . a voice
would rise in song, but now it was all rapture and plain festivity. The
outwardly religious songs-inspired by the on'sa, by Allah or
Christ-were begun by the adherents of the particular rel ig ion but
were taken up by everyone i rrespective of their leani ngs and chanted
into the night.
217

La-illah-il-allah
Anobi gb'owo o wa
On' ise nla gb'owo o wa
Anobi gb'owo wa
A te' le ni rna ya gb'owo o wa
Anobi gb' owo o wa

La-illah-il-a:llah
Lord , take our hands
Doer of great deeds, take our hands
He who follows without deserting, take our hands
Lord , take our hands.

218

XV
The women now dug in for a long siege. Shock squads roamed the
city, mobi l izing all womanhood . M arkets and women's shops were
ordered closed . Those who defied the order had their goods con
fiscated and sent to the field before the palace. Even before the con
cession was formal ized , the parakoyi had vanished from the markets ,
the tardiest only catching a glim pse of the approaching militants
before abandoning their positions and seek ing other predatory
grounds. The men became more fully involved , at least, they became
more openly i nvolved. At every step, they had shouted their en
couragement of the women's actions and even in some cases, driven
their hesi tant wives from the home, angry that such wives did not
know that the cause concerned them also, and that i ts victory would
bring them much-needed relief. One physically dragged his wife to
the palace one morn ing, gave her money to spend on food and
assured her that he would look after the children until the strife was
over. There were also many women there with their young who
camped out in the open with them and shared the hardsh ip. But the
movement of laden lines towards the Aafin now incl uded men . They
stopped by on the way from their farms; many had even journeyed to
the farm to bring the women yams , fruits, palm wine . A hunter o r
two stopped to drop the day's catch o f bush meat a n d share jokes with
the women .
Beere and The Group negotiated with the new District Officer, the
former having been recalled. They held meetings with the Alake's
Council , most of which ended in deadlocks. At the end of each meet
ing they reponed back to the assembly who responded with songs
and dances of defiance.
Reinforcements of armed police had been sent from Lagos the
morn ing after the in itial riots. They stayed away from the palace but
within sight, camped in the Centenary Hall and dril led osten
tatiously on its grounds. A group of young women moved on to the
road next to the drill grounds and mi micked their actions in com ic
formations. Crowds gathered and turned the police 'showing the
219

flag ' exercises i nto a farce. The drill-major sweated in the morn in
sun . striving in vain to retai n some dignity and cower the women
with his authori ty. He gave up fi nally. gave the order and the police
dispersed and retreated to the other side of the hal l . keeping only an
observation post on the steps of the hall to monitor the activit ies of
the women .
And yet another shock squad had moved to I kereku . to the two
storey building of Atupa Parlour. They sacked it completely. having
first put to fl ight the half-dozen pol icemen who were posted there on
guard . Fortunately Atupa had not returned to the house si nce the
episode of the ebo . They returned to the camp waving a few under
wear looted from her house and singing wit h coarse relish yet another
song:
Obo Atupa lo d ' ija s' ile
A lake oloko ese.
Obviously . some time since the first courteous exchanges. the women
had cast the A lake ful ly in the role of the arch-villain ; there was to be
no more di plomacy. When the raiding team arrived . they were
joi ned by the massed camp who mi lled round the trophies borne
aloft on poles . laughing and slapping palms, punctuating the song
with obscene gestures . I tried to picture their prisoner. the A lake.
sealed up with his aquarium and electric fish . unable to stop the
sound of this and other derogawry songs which the women had made
up about h i m and saw a frigh tened . lonely man . I could not i mag ine
h i m eating the heart or liver of anyone and failed to understand why
he refused to take the simple cou rse of graming every single request
of the women . I concluded somehow that he was perhaps as much
the slave of the District Officer-if not the presem one. at least of the
earl ier. insolent one-as he was a prisoner of the women .
The gathering now moved to isolate him further. At some poim a
decision was taken and announced loudly so that everyone . including
casual passers-by could hear it: no woman must be seen . for any
reason whatever. within the pal ace . Even The Group did not exempt
themselves. having . as I later discovered . taken the step of ap
pointing a male ch ief as their future go-between . The truth was, Mrs
Kuti and her col leagues had now reached a point where they felt that
there was nothing further to be gained from future discussions with

Atupa's vagina started the strife

A lake. with penis of a poison tat.

2 20

the palace. It had now become a war of wills.

And the negotiations went on , but they now took a form in which
the results could only be known afterwards. To my disappointmen t . I
could no longer be present at any of these meetings, e.ven of those
taking place among The Group by themselves. The veteran mes
senger continued to run errands between Beere and Wild Christ ian
especial ly, but was now only left with vague notions of contacts being
made, negotiations and draft agreements being signed to be put later
to the entire assem bly. processes wh ich took place at unstated hours
and places. For instance , The Group and some of the ch iefs held a
meeting with the new District Officer at his office. It was at this
meeting. it was later revealed . that the aboli tion of the Special
Assessment on all women was fi rst proposed by the ' other side' . also
that the parakoyi were to be disbanded . The G roup announced these
to the assembly even wh ile assuring them that they considered the
concessions derisive .
And there was another secret sessio n . a report of which was not
shouted from the rooftops but which nevertheless percolated through
the rank and file within mi nutes of the session . It had taken place in
the ogboni enclave . The elders had sent a message to M rs Kuti . their
humil iations at the hands of the women forgiven .
' Come and talk to us' they said. ' We consider ourselves the sons of
Majeobaje: we can not sit back and watch things get worse and spoil
totally in our hands. Come and see us with a l ist of all the th ings the
women want . You ' l l be surprised how closely our minds agree . '
A t the meeting. the ogboni assured them that everyth ing was
happening as it had been wrilte n . nothing was mange to them . the
elders. because Ifa had seen and spoken it all. Wild Christian recited
their speeches to Essay during dinner on the fol lowing day. the fi m
dinner at home at wh ich I had been presen t-with her and Essay- in
days . even weeks.
'They were very nice , very courteous. They didn ' t even want us to
apologize over their rough treatment at the hands of our wild ones.
They only warned us to be cautious, to know where we were goi ng, to
be sure where we actually wanted all this to take us. ' ' A s for us' ' they
said. "we are not surprised or alarmed . l fa said it all before and .
when it started . we went back to consu lt again and Ifa said-now is
happening what I told you before. " Those ogboni said it comes in

LeHhings-no!-come-w-ruin .

221

cycle-every fou rteenth ki ng-or was it thirteen th ? I 've forgouen1 feel so tired . They said that after every th irteenth or fourteenth king
to sit on the throne of Egbaland . it always comes about l i ke that.
They said so many things. so many strange things. But the main
thing they wanted to say to us was that we should rest assured that
they would not al low things to spoil in Egbaland . They didn ' t want
us to think that they were siuing down doing nothing . '
They were locked u p together a long time that n ight . speaking in
low voices. I did nor real ly think that Wild Christian was physically
tired . Something had happened at the ogboni enclave to move her
profoundly-it showed i n the manner i n which she recounted the
events. Her weariness appeared not w belong to the body but w her
mind, to some new form . or h i nt of understanding or maybe simply
of viewing even ts. I reflected on the l iule I had heard . and concluded
that the ogboni must be very careless or forgetful people. If every
thing was already predined and they knew it-as they clai med-then
why had they not anticipated their treat ment at the hands of the
women? And I wondered if the Balogun had anticipated his fate
mauers were worse for h i m . he had become fully paralysed on one
side and was now receiving treatment at the clinic of a t raditional
healer . far from A beokuta . I did not think much of the claims to
prescience of the ogboni.
It was time again to make another assault on the broad fields and
orchards of Government Col lege . During the turmoil I had again sat
the exam i nations; once agai n I was sum moned for an interview . Essay
coached me relentlessly-but for the thought of the consequences. I
would have said to h i m . Don ' t worry . I shall win that scholarship this
time-! know i t . But he had al ready begun to upbraid me for over
confidence. wrongfully I though t . There was no way of explain ing to
him that there were certain thi ngs of wh ich I woul d . without any
reason . sudden ly become assured . For in stance . as the women's
struggle wore on and Essay pinned me to the from desk of the house
after return ing from schoo l , I often sat there and st udied without
feeling that I was m issing anyt hing of importance. When he
returned . looked at me with a glint of mockery in his eye and asked
how the women's war was geuing on wit hout me. I often replied
without thinking.
'Oh. nothing is happeni ng right now. Nothing will happen for the
next two days . '
222

I never knew j ust why I had said that, but I was more often proved
right than wrong. I had a feel ing that this used to irritate him im
mensely.
A fter a week-end closing assembly at schoo l , I wen t upstairs to say
good-bye to Daodu and Beere as I was to leave for l badan the
following day. Formerl y , the assembly alternated between two
anthems as the fi nal song-one was the Egba National An them , the
other was a kind of ' God Save the King ' , the king being the A lake of
course, not the other one on the other side of the ocean . For some
weeks now, the latter anthem had been abandoned . As we uooped
out of the hall however, I heard it being rendered unofficially by
several independent groups. For a moment I thought that it was an
act of defiance against Daodu, then I heard the words. A different
verse had been substituted for the former words of salutation and
loyal ty:
Kabiyesi, oba on' ike
Ademola k' eran
Omo eran j ' ogun ila
Omo ote lo l ' obe
Kabiyesi, baba eran
Kabiyesi o
Kabiyesi oba iwin
Kabiyesi o
Poor A lake, I thought, h i s rout was really complete!
When I came upstairs , Beere was at the telephone, one of the three
or four telephones in the whole of A beokuta . Her tone was angry, I
had never seen her so fu rious with anyone .
' Let me tel l you M r District Officer, w e are not impressed. W e are
by no means im pressed-no , not surprised either. I knew it was
coming and when I heard it on the radio all I could think was, just
like them , j ust like the wh ite race. You had to drop it on Japan ,
didn ' t you ? Why didn ' t you drop it on Germany? Tell me that.
Answer my question honestly if you can-why not German y ? '
" Hail, king of hunchbacks
A de mol a has carried trouble
Son of a beast who inherits okra
Child of intrigue who takes the soup-pot
Hail. father of beam
Hai l , king of wood daemons.

223

There was a pause wh ile she listened to what the other speaker had
to reply.
She laughed-a dry. bi tter sound. 'I give you credi t for in
tel ligence. but not for honesty. That was a merely clever answer, it
was not honest . You know bloody wel l why. Because Germany is a
white race. the Germans are your ki nsmen wh ile the japanese are just
a dirty yel low people. Yes. that is righ t . that is the truth . don ' t deny
it! You dropped that inhuman weapon on human beings. on densely
populated cities . . . .
Her face became more and more agitated as she listened . then
broke in again . ' Yes, you know damned wel l what you should have
done if you sincerely desired their surrender. You could have
dropped it on one of their mountains. even in the sea. anywhere they
could see what would happen if they persisted in the war, but you
chose instead to drop it on peopled cities . I know you. the white
mentality: Japanese. Ch inese . Africans. we are all subhu man . You
would drop an atom bom b on A beokuta or any of your colon ies if i t
sui ted you ' '
This time I heard the laughter of the other speaker over the ear
piece. He spoke for a long time while I watched the various changes
of expression on M rs Kuti's face. It relaxed . smiled, then became
taut . even grim again as she resumed speaking,
' No . I d id not ring you up for that , I just wanted to pass a message
to the so-called A l l ies. and you were their nearest representat ive. But
now. since you bring the matter up. let me tell you t h is. Your k!ng
this one here I mean . . . no. don ' t in terrupt me, I have a right to say
he is yours because you saved his head this time. As far as we women
are concerned , he is already gone. But l isten to me. there really isn ' t
much t o d iscuss. I have sent you our l ist o f complaints. H e has gone
back on every word . every prom ise and agreement which he signed
before we decided not to press on for his abdication. Well , just tell
him from me. that if he h asn ' t learnt his lesson from H itler . . .
comparison or not , never m ind that now . . . just tell h i m h e should
take his lesson from H itler. As for you . that is. as for the Colonial
Government. better get your atomic bomb ready because the next
time round , he is goin g . Tel l them Beere said so . h is days are
numbered . He is GOING ! '
I saw her l isten some moments longer, shrug and simply add ,
' Wel l . I ' ve warned you . Good-bye . ' and she replaced the phone.
She turned to me and stared for a long moment. ' Yes. I remember
'

2 24

you are leaving us for Government College . Wait here . I have

something for you . '
She disappeared into the bedroom , returned with a small . flat
parcel-it looked like a sh irt but I never got to see what it wa
because I had to correct her at once .
' I am not leaving yet. I am only go ing for an i nterview. Schools
don ' t start a new year untii January . '
She thought briefly. 'Of course . How CO!Jid I have made such a
mistake? In that case I can ' t give you this yet . ' And she replaced the
shin on the dining table.
' Suppose I don ' t get selected after all ? ' I asked .
Smil ing , she pretended to give that also some thought. ' H m , that
would be a difficulty. I ' ve been keeping this for your departure .
Wel l . let's see . . . all right. let 's begin from the beginning. How
long will you be away for this interview ? '
'Three days. '
She fished out a sixpence. 'That ' s for you to buy someth ing with .
Now , suppose you are admitted . . . wai t. aren ' t you also supposed
to win a scholarsh i p ? '
I nodded , and she resumed. ' Good . If you gain adm ission but no
scholarsh ip I shall give you the shirt . R ight ? Now . if you win a
scholarsh i p , guess what . '
' A pair of shoes , ' I replied prom ptly.
She exclaimed . 'What ! ' and t hen remem bered and laughed. 'Oh
yes . I remember now. All righ t . a pai r of shoes . '
One day I had tackled our parents over the fact that we were never
bought shoes. It was particularly galling at Harvest , Christmas and
New Year when special outfits were made. to find that shoes were
one item most resolutely omitted in the HM household. Th is I could
not understand, si nce both parents wore shoes and sl i ppers as a
matter of course. I picked the occasion of a festive meal-rime when
the dining hall was full-Tinu, Femi and I, the various cousins and
even some of the neighbouring chi ldren. ' Why , ' I asked loudly, but
of no one in particular, ' does no one ever buy us shoes? '
Essay blinked , turned o n his deaf ear while Wild Christian simply
declared:
' Ch i ldren do not wear shoes. '
I felt the eyes of both on me, expectan t , for some rime afterwards
but I said nothing further. Even tually, Essay said,
'Wole, don ' t you even wan t to know why children do not wearshoes ? '
225

I shook my head . ' No , ' knowing full well that he must have
thought up a good answer to be so persistent. I much preferred the
grounds which Wild Christian had carelessly selected and only
awaited my opportunity.
That moment came not long after, at the Kuti residence, on a
Sunday where we had gone visiting. Wild Christian was sitting to
lunch with Daodu and Beere while , at a table across from them . Tinu
and I sat with our cousins who had just returned from church and
were still variously attired in jackets, long dress, ties, shoes and socks.
I picked a moment of si lence in the brisk conversation-which was
difficul t , because Daodu was an incessant conversationalist-and said
loudly,
' M ama, I thought you said that chi ldren do nor wear shoes ? ' and
conti nued eating.
Conversation died for some moments. Then Daodu threw back h is
head , slapped h is th igh and let out the most deafening roar of
laughter the corridor had ever heard . He laughed and wiped his eyes,
spluttered , took a sip of water and continued chuckling sporadically
for a long time after . M rs Kuti simply sm iled and said.
' Eniola , owo ba e l 'ote yi . ' She then added , to me, ' Wole , any
time you find a pair of shoes you like, come and tell me. I shall give
you the money for it. '
Koye i mmediately offered, ' I have some which I have outgrown .
I ' l l take him to my room after lunch and we ' l l see if any of them fits
h im . '
Dolupo offered also to take Tinu along. I looked at Wild
Christian . The sm ile on her face looked more like a trapped scowl but
I was past caring at that moment . I n any case. even if we returned
home with bags bulging with shoes, I knew that we would never wear
them . Essay was inflexible on that score-to him . shoes on the feet of
children was the ultimate gesture i n the spoiling of the you ng. The
children of relations and acquaintances who had been packed off to
the Headmaster's house for 'trai ning' discovered that , to their in
tense u nhappiness. Their shoes gathered mould in their boxes, and
eventually they outgrew them . In h is schoo l . a new pupil who had
transferred from Lagos turned up one day in a pair of canvas shoes.
He was not merely suspended , his real parents h ad to travel from
Lagos and plead for the entire day before he was taken back.
' Eniola. you have: really caughr ir rhis rime:.

2 26

Mrs Kuti delighted in small conspiracies; she understood very wel l

what I meant and s o we went into t h e strategies o f t h e operation.
Clearly, the shoes could only be worn during term at Government
Col lege ; they would have to remain there during vacations and
would never be produced at home. And of course I had to ensure that
they were kept out of sight in Ibadan whenever my parents came to
visit me-at least at the beginning. She was confident that it would
no longer maner once I became a senior boy .
That problem o u t of t h e way , I asked h e r why she had been angry
about the bombing of the Japanese. Were they not Hider's friends?
'The white man is a racist , ' she said . ' You know your h istory of the
slave t rade, wel l , to him the black man is only a beast of burden , a
work-donkey . As for Asians-and that includes the Indians,
Japanese , Chinese and so on , they are only a small grade above us.
So. dropping that terrible weapon , experi menting with such a
horrifying thing on human beings-as long as they are not white-is
for them the same as experimenting on cattle . '
Daodu returned from the office during the conversation ,
deposited some fi les on a shelf and , catching the trend of the
animated lecture, came over and poured himself some tea, nodding
at several of M rs Kuti 's poi nts. He stabbed the air i n my direction :
' I would never send Koye or any of his brothers to a school run by
white men . But you m ust understand this, it is not merely because
they are white, it is also because they are colonizers. They try to
destroy character in our boys . . . remember what I told . you last year
when you were going off for your first interview ? '
' Yes , Uncle . '
' Righ t . Was I right or not ? '
' But I told you Uncle , the school was o n holidays , i t was empty.
All we did was sit exams. '
He turned to Beere. ' Do you know what I found out ? Those
teachers don ' t allow pockets in their shorts! '
Beere was clearly startled . ' Is that true ? ' she asked me.
I confirmed it.
' Now, why do you think they do that? Why on earth should a
young man not have pockets in his shorts? You know , ' he shook h is
head in a really worried manner, ' the whi te man is a strange creature .
In h is country, i n h is own schools-and reme mber, I visited a
number of public schools during our conference-Eton, Harrow etc .
wel l , their boarders wear suits, all with pockets. From t h e most junior
227

form . And the question I ask myself is th is-why should one of them
come here as a principal and forbid pockets in the shons of his black
schoolboys. WHY ! '
I gave it some thought. Something which I had remarked about
the pair of them-Daodu especial ly . struck me all over again. With
them . I never needed to ask so many questions. They were always
ready to talk to me-or indeed to any willing child-as they wou ld to
their fellow ad ults. Daodu would often collar me. even if I was
quietly read ing in the parlour or dini ng-room and ask me if I had
heard some recent item of news from Lagos or elsewhere , and ask my
opin ion . It could be labour unrest . the formation of an assoc iation .
some projected all iances as the war progressed , a new sc ientific in
vention . . . if I had not yet encountered the item of news he would
shake h is head reprovingly.
' You m ust take an interest! Don ' t j ust stick you r nose in that dead
book you are reading. Don ' t you see , if M ussolini cou ld undermine
the independence of A byssinia, what chance has the new National
Cou ncil of Nigeria and the Cameroons got with their demand for
some measure of self-govern ment? These people who have managed
to defeat Mussolini, is i t l ikely that they will ever surrender what they
already have ? What do you think of Winswn Churchi l l ? '
I blurted o u t on that occasion , ' Actual ly , you remind m e very
m uch of h im . '
I had not really considered i t before bur a strong resem blance did
strike me at that momen t . very forcefully. He stopped in his stride,
folded his arms across his chest and tucked his hands under his arm
pits as if he was hugging hi mself. I could see the inside of his head
working out all the elements which must have combined to make me
give such a forceful declaration .
' Amazing, amazing. I have always found chi ldren 's powers of
observation remarkable . Now you have to tel l me why you hold such
an opinion. No , not right now. But you m ust rem ind me. I want
every single detail of what has given you that opinion . '
I t was that persistent , bul ldog expression o n his face again as he
asked-why? Why would a white principal forbid pockets in the
shorts of the GC boys? I had some ideas on the matter but first I had
some good news to give him :
' We learnt that Powel l will be leaving shortly. He's reti ring . The
new princi pal may let us have pockets. '
Daodu turned w his wife and explained. ' Powell is the present
228

principal . A very keen Boy SeouL A-ha! Now that is an even greater
indictment . A boy scout needs as many pockets as he can use . Have
you ever been a boy scout ? '
' Wel l , I was a cub at St Peter's. We had a teacher who was a keen
scoutmaster. H is name was Activity . '
They both laughed. I added , ' But h e left , and n o one else took h is
place . '
Daodu nodded approvingly. ' Now scouting also develops
character. It would be i nteresting to see if this scouting enthusiast ,
who does not provide pockets for h is schoolboys, at least encourages
scouting i n his school . '
I was able to fulfil his worst fears-GCI had no scouting
programme. A t my previous interview, I had marked down Scouting
i n that section of our questionnaire which required us to state our
hobbies. One of the whi te faces who sat on the panel h ad sm i led and
regretted that there was no scouting in the school . When I passed
this i nformation to Daod u , he raised h is arms in genuine concern ,
looking at me with something akin to commiseration.
' See ? Do you see now? This Powell, M r V. P. V . . . . no, what are
those peculiar initials of h is agai n ? '
'V.B.V.P.'
'That's right , V. B . V. Powell . . . ' He shook his head . ' Heaven
knows what those letters stand for . . .
' Very Bad Very Poor , ' I briskly an nounced , and he and Beere
chuckled loud and long. I told them that one of the candidates who
already h ad a brother in the school had informed us of that secret
i nterpretation of Powell 's initials.
'A fai r enough j udgemen t , ' Daodu com mented . ' He is always
posing at the head of the national scout jam borees with his scout
uniform stuck al l over with labels and decorations. So , there we have
the keen scoutmaster, yet he does not encourage scouting in his
schoo l . ' He pursed h is l ips and looked me up and down as if I was
wal king into some mortal danger. Even Beere seemed to be equally
infected by the sudden pessimistic outlook on my future . She
commented:
' Double standards of course. It's j ust what I was tel l ing that
District Officer before you came i n-dropping the atom bomb over
Hiroshima but not over wh i te Germany. There is 11. racist in every
white man . '
Reverend Kuti sighed . His countenance was really doleful and I
'

229

began to wonder if I had not made a m istake in wan ring to go to

Govern ment Col lege . Then he brightened up somewhat , asking ,
' You are now what? How old , how old?'
' Eleven , ' I replied.
'Mm . . . . wel l , that 's not too bad . You ' l l be eleven and a half
when you join them i n January. And you ' ve had two years as a
Grammarian . . . that ought to have done it I think. Don ' t you think
so ? ' Turn ing to Beere for confirm ation .
' Oh yes, yes , ' she assured h i m . ' Not forgetting the face that he's
been brought up by Ayo and Eniola. I think he' ll be able to cope
with them over there . '
Oaodu nodded . He was visibly cheering up . and h e gave a defiant
snort . ' Yes , we ' l l see . An ex-public schoolmaster who sews up h is
students' pockets and makes them say Sir-Sir-Sir, l i ke slaves. A
scoutmaster who discourages scoutin g . A nd no caning either-at
most maybe two or three instances in any year-oh yes, so I ' ve
d iscovered. Mostly ceremonial can ing-1 doubt if any pupil from
t hat school has ever taken home a single scar on his back! How on
earth do they hope ro train our boys properly that way ? Oh . . . I
nearly forgot-no shoes. '
It was my turn to be startled. ' Are you sure Uncle ? '
Firm l y , he repeated , pressing his lips, ' No shoes. Since your fi rst
interview I have become very interested in that school . They have
very strange ideas of character build ing. No shoes. Except for the
senior prefects-they are al lowed to wear tenn is shoes. Or sandals.
Otherwise , No pockets, No shoes . . . aha, there is yet another one,
no u nderpan ts. Why it should be a school policy I don ' t know. As
long as the u n iform is clean and neat, I fai l to u nderstand why the
housemasters should concern themselves with mak i ng sure that the
boys wear no u nderpants. Espec ially the bigger boys . . . '
I was no longer paying atten t ion . My eyes had swivelled slowly to
encounter Beere ' s who was grinning with her eyebrows raised i n
mock d istress. The sight was so com ical that I burst o u t laugh ing and
she joined i n , leaving Oaodu glancing from one to rhe other,
frown i ng in his attempt to recol lect what he had said that was so
funny. Ti l ti ng her voice i n sympathy Beere queried ,
' No shoes? '
' No shoes , ' I sighed, feeling the oppressive weight of my years. I t
was time t o commence t h e mental shifts for admittance t o yet
another irrational world of adults and their discipline.
2 30

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I nccrnacionally acclaimed as a playwright, pocc, novelist and cricic,

WOLE SOYINKA is currcncly professor of comparacivc liccracurc ac chc

University of Ifc, Nigeria. He holds an honorary Doccoracc of Lcncrs

from Yale U nivcrsicy and has been accorded major lircrary prizes in
England, including chc prestigious John Whicing Award. His previous
works published in America arc, among ochers, Collected PlayJ, chc
memoir The Man Died, and chc critical scudy Myth, Literature and the
African World.