CHAPTER ONE
September 1964
*OLD GLORY*
WE never wanted Sir Balarabe story to end,we all sat down in awe and wonder,I looked at Jolomi and he looked at me too. Perhaps what was in our minds were the same or perhaps they differed.No one would decipher except either of us divulge the turmoils of our hearts at this moment.

I rolled the palm fronds mat that we sat on and laid it beside the blind but the wisest man in our Hamlet (Lamidu).
We gave ourselves the regular sign'time to leave' whistle. We were done for the day or perhaps night. The late brown moon was already taking its place in the sky,we knew we will grope the darkness to find out way home but it doesn't matter as long as we run home into the ever waiting arms of our parents especially Maami. Baaba was going to question us as usual but he wasn't going to spank even though his eyes shone as fire every time.

I held Dokun hands,we were friends, or perhaps more than that,then we galloped home in full pelt. The bush path that led home usually gave way knowing fully well that it's visitors would come pass it,the pathway was still bright enough to jive along effortlessly. This was unusual. Perhaps it's 'Darko season' . 'Darko' in Lamidu is a time of the year where the Hamlet experiences an extreme longer day and very short night, usually accompanied with harmattan,the one capable of bruising lips.
Anyway they treaded along holding the forte.I felt a churn in my belly,a tight one,it was a sign of hunger. In ten to twenty minutes,I might be sprawling on the floor in pain as my stomach would have been on fire my then. I was an ulcer patient.I heard it was diagnosed at my tenth year birthday,a long story I wish were just mere fantasies. It wasn't.

On my tenth birthday,custom demands the birthday be celebrated. Birthdays are only celebrated once in a decade and it must be massive. So I was already dressed in my Babariga and shoes,hovering around the kitchen area as the food aroma stiffed my nose.If there was anything I would call myself,it would be a glutton, that is;the one we call 'foodie' . Baaba has gone out to fetch palmwine and the dry gin 'burukutu' which were exclusively for men.Men above 18 years.
I managed to sneak into Baaba room,I noticed the whole room was stenched with 'burukutu'. I was surprised because I had thought Baaba has gone to get some. I quickly picked up the wooden cup hung close to Baaba leather bag(the ones he usually takes for hunting) and then served myself the hard dry gin.That was all I could remember. The Aftermath became the ulcer palaver. I was told and is still being told the cause of my predicament.it was nobody's cause but mine. Believe me,even if I heard it a million time,It's all a superstition to me. I won't believe myself if I had told myself this 'sordid' story. They can make a more captivating one, maybe,just maybe I would believe.

We were close,just ten or less than twenty stone throws to my father compound. I nudged Dokun on,he noticed,I wasn't the too much talking type,I mostly communicated with signs. Those really acquainted with me would tell you. Dokun was my opposite but really understand and respects me even though he was few years older than I am,a year or two. Maama would answer that. Dokun was my friend whose mother was my maama best friend not until she was leaving for the city with her husband to seek for greener pastures then they left Dokun with us,we never heard from them again except from the letter they send once in blue moon,I mean occasionally,very rare.
Baaba was nice to accommodate Dokun. Dokun father was Baaba friend too but not as close at his mother is to Maama. Dokun parents were very educated and enlightened. We were told they schooled overseas(Only God knew was that was and where it was) but all we knew was it was a land flowing with milk and honey ,it's residents were white skin coloured people whom we couldnt decipher their existence. We have some few white coloured people 'oyibo' in the next Hamlet of 'Shigi',their chief was also a student of the 'oversea' school.
Dokun parents were deported on case of overstayed visa. They came back to the Hamlet fifteen years ago and immediately gave birth to Dokun who happened to be the only child they ever begot before leaving him behind in search for greener pastures,about two years now. I and Dokun were now brothers or something close to that.
Dokun parents were actually the ones who preached education to Baaba and Maama who are both petty traders. Whatever it was,we were good.

As we sauntered into the compound, Baaba was already sitted in his usual position, his snuff by his side and his rickety radio at the other side. This time around he did not reply out greeting,he only nodded and continued tuning the radio waves searching for clearer station.
We hastened our step to the kitchen,of course Maama was there dishing out food,I just rushed mannerlessly and grabbed my plate and dug into it immediately.
Maama looked at me and shakes her head,whether in pity or piss, whichever way I was happy to do that.


To be Continued.

CHAPTER TWO
December 1965
*A December To Remember*
We were all in the compound that morning at December Eve when a sleek 1659 Peaguot crawled into the compound. I dropped the palm fronds I was using to sweep the compound and dropped. I wondered who this would be. The door opened after some seconds of turning down the engine.
A tall man came down from the door behind the wheel, behold,it was Dokun's father. The loud shrill of joy that erupted the peaceful atmosphere. Dokun ran to his dad and flung himself into his arm. The other door (passenger door) opened and his mother. It was a double surprise. Dokun run round and jumped on her too with tears of joy in his eyes. He hung her so tight,she managed to get his strong grip away and held him at the arm level trying to size him up.

I walked up to them quietly and greeted them,they hugged me tightly.
"You've grown so big Jephthah" the compliment came from Dokun dad. At this instant, Jolomi and his mother was already throttling into the compound. They lived opposite our compound even though they spent most of the time at Pa Balarabe's compound. Pa Balarabe was his mother's father.
The shock on their faces wasn't disguised at all,they came closer admiring the car before looking up to those who must have brought it.
"Ahh ahh Kemi Kemi nice to have you hear,weldone ohh" Jolomi mother spoke in our native language. Kemi was Dokun mother name. She turned and they both hugged passionately. Dokun mother gave them some wrapped gift and they left immediately in a hurry,they were visibly rushing to the market before hearing the noise and decided to check. They promised to return by evening.
I wondered why my parents just stood at the threshold of the main sitting room transfixed. It was mixed emotion and it was obvious.
Dokun parents walked up to them and they exchanged passionate hugs.
"Thank you so much for everything Freke" Dokun dad was full of thanks. He said this innumerably.
"My son is in good hands" Kemi added.
"What would I have done?" Baaba started out in native language. It was his routine. He never started any statement without the infusion of our native tongue. Of course he would still speak the English,language of the 'oyibo', but he was a staunch preacher of promotion of mother tongue ."Dokun is my son" he added but this time in English.
Dokun parents actually speak English more fluently than our native tongue,owing to the fact they spent most of their life time abroad. Dokun grand father was the prime minister to the king was opportuned and rich,he had companies in the city of Lagos so his children including Kemi was always transiting between the city of Lagos to this little Lamido of ours. That was how Kemi was privileged to travel abroad where she met her husband, Dokun father who was in the United Kingdom on scholarship from Oyo.

Baaba and Maama led the way into our sitting room,they were all smiles,we all watched Dokun parents did a little prayer before sitting which was strange to us. The only thing I know we prayed to was Nkalangu,the god of peace and tranquility,then occasionally we prayed to Gongoro,the god of harvest. Then once in a week,we go to the family shrine behind the compound to pour gins and kolanut. Baaba and Maama told us Dokun parents claimed to serve a supreme god,the god of the whites. We were strictly warned never to adhere to the white man religion even though we attended the only missionary school in our Hamlet owned by these white people,though our teachers were black but were not from our Hamlet. The truth is; I and Dokun secretly read the Holy Bible which was a gift given to all the children at the missionary school. We also join the Fellowship every Friday where a man called Jesus Christ was always mentioned and termed to be God. Whatever this was or whatever it entails,we love this religion because of the freedom and peace we always feel whenever we join the fellowship every Friday.

"Ye Amusa please prepare delicious porridge yam for my August visitors,I will join you soon to kill one of the hens in the pen so you can prepare it" Baaba gave an order to Maama but it sounded as a plea. Amusa was my mother native name.

"Oiii!! My husband" Maama answered and dashed out of the room.

"Thank you for the reception Freke"

"Give me some minutes so I can get the remaining fried goat meat leftover from yesterday and good palmwine. I know you two don't take 'burukutu'" Baaba got up and dashed out.

Dokun was tucked at the middle of his parents as they both touched his head and body. I looked out grinning like a fool,I wasn't even noticed but does it really matter since my best friend was happy,very happy. I have never seen him much happier. I was jerked out of my own world when I heard my name.
"Jephthah!! My parents are taking both of us along with them to the city of Lagos" Dokun announced.
I jumped up out of excitement,the raffia chair fell out but I did not care,I ran to Dokun and we hugged.
"Finally we would be both be going to this Lagos we have been hearing about" Dokun jumped all over the place. I was more excited than him.
"I actually bought a lot of gifts for both of you,they are in the car,you both can go get it" Kemi, Dokun mother told us. We dashed out immediately. They trailed behind.


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The next day was something I wished never ended. It was fun. Baaba killed one of his fattest goat. Dokun parents brought city food called 'Rice', it was really a compliment to the goat meat. They also brought ride blood with them. They called it 'wine', it tasted really good. Far better than the hot alcoholic beverage called 'burukutu'. After that we hopped into the 'car' for sightseeing,the first time we were all entering a car for the first time. I actually meant I and my Parents even Dokun. It was a day to remember. Later we headed to the forest Park and game reserve situated at the outskirt of our small Hamlet.

We met Lion and other wise animals for the first time. We actually only read about it but now we were seeing it.



To be continued

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