CHAPTER ONE

The fag end of the dry season is rapidly running

down like an avaricious sip by a toddler. Everyone is
grouchy about heat, men take that as a vindication to show
off their barren bellies; some shaped like calabash, others
taking the form of lizard's belly. There is the irritating
absence of power, everyone is steaming up with heat.
What could be answerable for the selfish seizure in
Electricity?
The world would have remained dark for centuries if the
sun was ever under the control of men – maybe the leaders.
They would have thought it clever to use the sun for
campaigns and rallies during their political melees...
 `T-junction' has developed to a place for watch outs
and a point for stylish begging. Men lock in the bars with
or without money hoping somebody might reward them
with a bottle of beer for their greedy salaams and tributes.
`Mama Otubo' is quite becoming well-heeled. The new
extension she had attached to her shop to mean a bar has
caught those drinking men like the net that catches fish or
bats.
With her earnings, she is supposed to be well-to-do. Her
money should have been growing like grass in a riverine
area. It is the 22nd year of her business but it's her son who
is trying to trench all the money. Her son who is about to
spend ten years in the university wants to obliterate her
revenue. He tells her to quickly send him 12,000 for a
single textbook before he is thrown out of school. And that
would want to make her almost slack her teeth, rushing to
send the money before her son is flung out of school. The
next day he would demand 50,000 for a practical. Illiteracy
did even barred her eyes from seeking relevant enquiries...
The second influence on her business is Anselm the
poor intern who is residing in a bush behind her shop. The
price for his credit purchases in two years should be
equivalent with the rent for a brand new three bedroom flat.
Mama Otubo is always giving her commodities out to him
hoping she will be blessed someday by God. Who knows
if her son's Education is already being a blessing for her
biblical practices? Anselm lost his parents to death after a
motor crash about six years earlier. He was picked and
dredged by a cab driver whose wife later complained about
the burden Anselm had become on them in terms of
feeding and lodging. The cab driver solicited with her and
she got iced. One day in his daily hunts, she unbearably
putrefied the lad's mind. She lied to him about her husband,
convinced him to believe that he (Anselm) was an
instrument of ritual. Ever since that day she had poisoned
his thoughts, little Anselm never set his foot around that
home again. He turned a beggar after the spasms of
starvation had so arrested him that he risked fainting. He
roamed the streets just asking for food. People of the world
responded to him in their different temperaments. His
misery was like the popular parable of the Good Samaritan.
It was roughly some minutes one day, after the dismissal
time, students had been dismissed from school. There
beneath a huge flower hedge afore the school gate, lay a
fainted body on rags with open mouth. Flies purred and
perched around the unconscious body. Some perched as
insolently as vultures would venture on lost corpse. Some
young students feared it could be a mad man sleeping.
Although he was not in any way blocking their way, they
feared to continue their journey home. Some of them stood
watching, others fled back to the school. In no distant time,
they all trooped out again with two guards. Those kind of
school guards that must have come from one village or the
other. They are ready to take even a penny for salary so
long their families can boast of a white kola jobber.
With the slightest approach, they discharged the whips off
their shoulders, the whips which the school management
had distributed to them newly. Before the time, they used
sticks.
They obliviously discharged their new whips to the fainted
body. Each of them aiming his whip to be the last
discharged. They were also yelling at the incapable body
to get up. They kicked at it with the most furious effect.
The body had even no motion to sprawl. They had to get
rid of the body so that what happened some years before
did not repeat itself. A man who was seen as nothing more
but a Beggar was allowed into the school to further his
begging with the rest of the school management bodies.
While trying to hold onto a female teacher, the beggar
unintentionally stripped down her skirt and what was
exposed? A sparse undies! That was how the guards who
admitted the beggar had lost their jobs...
They were so aggravated to see the body not responding.
They charged for a fresh attack. So they continued lashing
on the body until one of them abruptly ceased. He stopped
the other trying to let him know that a body that could not
respond to such treatment was not normal. How foolish
they had been not to have confirmed earlier. "What do we
do?" One of them who is shorter had asked. The other he
had referred to looked for bush around.
"He is dead o!!" One civilian shouted in the small crowd.
Only then the guards knew their irrational actions could
get a crowd watching. But how come no one tried to stop
them? They had better done something fast before the
police were involved. But what can they do; take the boy
on their own to a chemist or report with the body to the
school?
"Take this body you have convicted out of here!!!" The
crowd had begun to clamor. The two guards needed not be
told that they were boiling in a pot of soup. The parading
police could be on their way to their way. They quickly
packed the body on their shoulders like a wet rug. They
had decided that the school was appropriate to buy the
responsibility. They school higher authorities quickly
reacted to the matter with no arguments or blames. They
decreed that a life had to be saved first...

"What is your name?" A man in white coat asked.

"Anselm". A boy in bed replied. He looked round the room,
saw his Coe-patients. This is the second time he is waking
up to see same man on white coat. The previous time, he
had dimly heard the man tell him to take a rest. He looked
round the white room again, at the other patients, at a
woman that had a distended chin and a budged jaw. He was
far into the memory of what could have brought him to
these kind of people with brutal features. Then the man in
white coat tapped his right shoulder. He turned slowly. "I
asked about where you live" the man said. Anselm tried
pointing at beyond the white room but something seized
his hand. A brown adhesive tape that was daubed against a
little white flexible straw that was also devoted to a white
thin tube. The tube was also attached to a strange container
filled with some kind of runny and it was also devoted with
a standing pole. "Be careful so you don't disturb the drip"
the man on white coat said. `Drip... Drip? Drip? ` Was the
connection called a drip’? Anselm thought...
"You must not point at your home, just tell me where it is
located" the man said smiling at him. Anselm didn't know
if he should smile back. To him, the man before him rather
looked like a happy monkey.
"So... Anselm, where do you live?"
"Nowhere"
"Nowhere?"
There was no response. The door was yanked open and a
man on handcuffs appeared. Four persons followed him;
two policemen and two madams. They referred to the man
on white coat as doctor before they greeted him. They
waved with pity at Anselm. The doctor followed them visit
the woman with swollen chin. Anselm watched all of them
reacting. The man on cuffs had knelt before the woman
with swollen chin. Anselm watched everything: the two
madams that snarled in turns. They spoke critically to the
man on cuffs. From the look of things, Anselm knew the
man could be one of those men who battered their wives
like they were pans. That made him quickly remember his
parents when they were still living on earth. Had his father
beaten his mother so badly? He could remember his father
beat his mother one night she had returned late from her
Shop. He bit his lips. Tears instigated and globule on his
chin. He got stopped by the Barney the other persons had
started. The woman with distended chin pleaded with her
fellow women to let go of her husband but they were
maintaining that her husband be used as an instance of
what would ensue on those men that barter blows with
their wives. Even the policemen did not like the idea of
letting the man go free. They were also speaking to the vile
woman with harsh tones like: "Are you missing your
husband's torments or you're missing his coco?"
In the afternoon, a thick man arrived with the doctor.
He was the school principal. He looked full of himself. All
about him was wealth. He cast a kind of look on the boy in
sickbed.
"Young man how are you doing?" He smiled at Anselm.
"He was here a day ago but you couldn't recognize as a
human" the doctor zapped and looked at the big man. Both
of them laughed glowingly. The principal was happy to see
how far the lad had gone with salvage. All glory to his
maker. What if he had died? What would have become of
his school? The institute of money he had labored to
establish would have been crashed down because of two
irrational guards. Those scums had been dismissed from
duty already. Let them go and find the right image to
tarnish.
Anselm was discharged a week after his recovery.
The principal thought he could wave him off with two or
more provisions so that he destined no other trouble. He
had put him into the hands of Benjamin a road side
carpenter for the purpose of apprenticeship and had found
him a room in the most equidistant area off the city. That
was how Anselm landed at T-junction. The place that is
believed to be developing in gradual range. Anselm lived
at the crudest zone. A place forgotten by government.
CHAPTER TWO

At the break of a new morning when new life and hopes

spring up again, Anselm rose even though his little room was
still dark. He looked at his cheap curtains that were stirred
reluctantly by breeze. There had been a scorching heat last
night. He rolled up his mat. He must get ready for work before
8 as his master had instructed or else he would want to be on
his knees till noon. But he must visit the toilet. He quickly left
the room fearing nothing could be taken. It has only been his
matt and his bag of rags with a big bowl and the old curtains he
had picked with great gratitude from a dustbin. He must go and
bathe in the pond after visiting the toilet. The thick savannah
around the old lodge has provided a space for free toilet. A
place you can stay for as long as you please. No one would
come to yell at you to hurry up. He got into the bush. The only
prevention is to avoid stepping on old shits. With careful steps,
he stopped to squat. He stripped his short and his anus began to
puff. A dismal looking element was quickly tubed out. He
began to spit here and there. After about four puffs, he easily
reached out for a short stick, ran it against his anus as to make
it clean. He discarded the stick and pulled up his short. He
jolted up like a warrior in ambush but saw a lady leaving the
bush so he stooped back suddenly. He left for the pond when
the lady had finally gone...
"Good morning Sir". His boss just arrived but He did not
respond to his greeting. He rather went into the warehouse to
drop his little workbag. He came out with disdains in his look.
"For how long have you been here?" He asked. His hands
akimbo.
"Since 6...7" Anselm lied. His boss still looked at him with
condescension.
"Do you not know that when your senior approaches you with
load no matter how little, you should be able to get up on your
thin legs and give him a helping hand?"
"..."
"Did I not come into this workshop with a load?" The boss
pressed on.
"I'm sorry sir"
"I just believe it won't happen again".
"Yes sir, thank you sir".
"Go and knee down there" the boss pointed at a usual spot
outside. The circle he had drawn on the spot with spray is still
not fading. Anselm is looking muddled. He looks from his boss
to the spot. He knows there wouldn't be any point begging.
"Until the other goats have come, you will keep kneeling down.
That one who answers Godwin will come to lie that his great-
grand-father is seriously sick not knowing that I already saw
him swapping imprudent words with his inamorata on my way
down here."
Anselm was dumbstruck. He just didn't know what to say if he
were to talk. His only wish was that the other apprentice may
quickly come to release him. Wonder what grievous offence he
had committed to attract this sort of punishment. Would the
boss consider that he has not eaten any food? The nerve-
racking reverberations in his intestinal are callous. No thoughts
did not come to his mind. He thought whether it wouldn't have
been better if the principal had enrolled him into one of the
cheapest schools. But how could he cope with his age that is
too exclusive for contemporary primary education. His
education was terminated the moment his parents died of auto
crash. His father was an employee in a popular industry known
as Jay and Kay. The industry specialized in producing all kinds
of plastic and polythene materials.
It was on the day they were traveling to the federal capital
territory that accident came their way. Anselm's father was so
desperate to go beyond a long vehicle on their way onto a
bridge not knowing that a bus was coming forth. He was taken
so unaware by the bus driver who had first detected him but
trying to dodge him, was fluffed by the long vehicle and the
bus rammed the car. The car plummeted and landed back on the
dangerous corner of the hoary bridge. The dead driver of the
car still pressed onto the throttle pedal and the wagon zipped
into the river. The stiffs of his Parents were found and taken by
a rescue team. Thank God Anselm had earlier complained of
heat so the car window was galled down for him to take fresh
air. When in the water, force had flushed him off the car. He
had journeyed with the flow of the river long before the team
of life guards could arrive. It was a trunk by the fag end of the
river that had hooked him by the side on his loose shirt. The
trunk was commonly used as an upright panel for slouching and
fetching water from the river. The river bank was being used as
a park by car washers. A cab driver had come to give his old
car a once-in-a-while wash. A kind of wash that is not meant
for aesthetics but for its inclination to passengers. On his way
to fetch a clean water, He met what he thought was a mislaid
shirt. Maybe some persons had left the top. Stooping so low to
procure water, he got startled and almost slipped into the river.
He had physically seen a human head faintly arousing. He
thought if he should run but a second thought asked him
whether it was not a mere destitute body he had seen...
According to the driver, he had never seen such lucky person
since his seasons of existence started calculating... He thought
he could shoulder the task - to keep the found body to himself
instead of delivering it to the life guard or police but his wife
turned out to be the expeller.
Did Anselm have relatives? He was born into a kind of
family where brothers are enemies. His father had avoided his
hometown not just because of his envy kindred but for the
geographical location of his place of work. They were the kind
of people that lived with gullible beliefs. His father feared
anything butchery could become of his only son. He was
always following a saying, forbidding a forecasted snake to bite
him right on his ankle. He had lived with his wife in the village
for numbers of years in his own turn. Those years he termed
the dark days – when life tasted to him in its obnoxious manner.
He was though a graduate but had no perceptible job to do for
a living. He used to be bicycle repairer before the business
became commonly rampart. He resorted to basket and mat
weaving. He traveled to markets in the city to sell his products
at pretty prices. And enough income was accruing to him in that
he launched a little booth for the selling of foodstuffs to his
wife. He still furthered his business and he was able to put up
a two bedroom thatched house. His wife had took in by then.
Green eyes began to bleed at what they approached as sudden
improvements. It had come like a miracle to him one day in the
city market at a corner he had rented for the sale of his products.
He was so sad at his neighbor’s frequent noisy radio. Despite
the noise made by the many voices in the market, his neighbor
who dealt in onions still struggle to hear his big loud radio
speak. An advertisement was being made in the radio that day
about job opportunities. It was announced that people who
studied business courses should register for application of job
interviews with the sum of #3,000. He jolted quickly to his feet,
trying to adjust his trouser which had folded into his anus as
result of long period of sitting. He repute his feet in his tight
rubber sandals that causes pains. He walked over to his
neighbor. He told his neighbor about the news in relation with
his occupational predicament. His neighbor surprised him. He
was also awaiting a job. He said the advert had been going on
and that he had registered for the application but he was still
awaiting the date to be announced for the filling of application
form. Basket weaver feared it was already late to register for
the application. But His neighbor said he was not sure if the
registration period had expired since the date for application
form had not been announced. It was arranged that basket
weaver be taken to the place of registration the next day. He
was to sponsor their transport and feeding.
Basket Weaver did not reveal the latest update to his eve. He
believed that women were people with wobbly tongues. At a
scrap of impending attainment, they are proudly ready to vaunt
and conclude the fate of their impending success. They leak
their good news to their closest friends, those ones go ahead to
extend the good news until the enemies hear them. Enemies
who are ready to run naked around the market place at
midnights with some dolls wrapped with red cotton invoking
all sorts of evil spirits just to get the successful fellow down.
On the day basket weaver went to register for the
application, he had got his wife wondering why he could not
go the city on time. He lied that a fellow was being buried in
the city. He left the moment she had gone to the local market...
Few days afterwards, the application form was out. Basket
weaver still journeyed with his neighbor to fill the forms. It was
a branch to branch process aiming for the jobs. They still sat
for the interviews based on oral tests, written and health tests...
It was a sad news some months after: his neighbor could
not make it to jay and Kay but basket weaver succeeded. They
were both sitting by the radio one afternoon when the release
of list was announced. They had quickly behaved like children,
closing up for the day at noon! That was rare in the history of
their businesses. They had quickly busied their feet down to a
nearby computer business center. Every other thing that
followed their anxiety was the mixture of success and failure.
How sorry basket weaver felt when his neighbor slumped...
The poor fellow had told him about what it took him to pass
through education.
Basket weaver was rather more surprised when he got
home and was told by his old green toothed mother that his wife
had put to bed earlier that day. How come? He so much
expected the good news but not to jam with his own good news
on same day. As he was in total extremes of happiness he feared
that melancholy may come to claim the days afterwards. He
praised God so earnestly with innumerable number of distorted
words due to his resilient happiness. He was happier than a
child that awaited Christmas to come in a day's time…
He was gladly unhappy to start with his new job in the
city. He left his wife and their newly born baby behind. His
mother was taking the responsibility of tendering the child too
personal. She was seeing everything from a different point of
view. While the new employee and his wife planned to leave
the village, his mother pointed out that the baby and its mother
be left behind. More grieved she was on a Saturday when her
son visited them and started addressing the baby as 'Anselm'.
Anselm? The old woman worried about the name. Why not
common names like: 'Nwafor', 'Nwuzor', 'Nwofe' and the rest
of their kinds. Those were prevalent names other parents were
so eager to offer to their babies not 'Anselm', a strange name he
must have heard the city people call their spoilt children...
Anselm's father had finally come to take them to the city
including his grandmother though she failed to adjust to what
she saw as replicated lives – a life arrogantly and pompously
lived by people in the city who have no basic liberty. One had
to manage a natural gift like water in the usage of the so-called
water cisterns. One also had to live almost with no access to
fresh air. One's movement was also limited. She was so glad to
be deported to her best place. The place she could fix in
comfortably no matter how long she may have spent in the City.
Her village people had queued up to see her in her return and
to interview her with many questions about the City. She was
always ready to give answers to the many questions. She was
so free in the village that the zeal to have the baby on her shrank
laps was gone...

At dusk he went home feeling so worked up by the

punishment his Boss had indecorously made him to engage in.
Thoughts and Tears were trying to make a hazardous scene. He
had been on his knees all day. Godwin the other apprentice did
not come. That is to say; he absconded. Anselm was so
consoled by the ugly fate that must repay the fellow for his
absenteeism. How much more grievous punishment he must
serve for not coming to work without even giving a notice…
There is a lonely road that takes him to his place. A place that
is so calmed by luxurious blackout. Now he is stopping to think
about going to Mama Otubo to ask for Money. No. he must
think wisely at least for a day. If there is nothing else he would
use to express his gratitude for the poor Woman’s generosity,
at least not visiting her everyday can do. His visits have become
so frequent. No body heard him make this resolution but if it
could be possible, the dancing grasses must be waving at his
brilliant resolution. Those tall grasses he must brush out of his
way to get to his place. After the grasses is the spot that makes
him gear up. He must have to shield his nostrils with two
fingers then, craze his feet past the precinct. He passes by the
pond before he gets to his place. This means that he is taking a
bush path – the only road he loved to trade. Taking the main
road will bring many discomforts on him.
He would not take the risk to cross the road over to his place
because of the many Vehicles of which are mostly commercial
buses that is driven along the road which is thought to be a short
cut to their destinations. He is also having the feeling of
inferiority. He has the feeling of low self-esteem – always
thinking he is the crudest human on the face of earth.
His feeling is troubled by inferiority complex.
He first has to get to his place before he would go back to the
Pond to take his bath. But there would be a little problem with
his padlock. His Old padlock is easily locked but hard to
unlocked. He must have to insert the key at different
centimeters into the lock and then twist, twist, and twist, take a
deep breath and launch a fresh trial and tactics: insert
calmly, twist calmly, twist, sigh, twist and sigh.
Sometimes, kicking the old door will be involved. He may step
aside to briefly fold his arms or put his Hands akimbo. He
thought he should have shattered the idea of locking the empty
room from whatever. But each man has a thief in his level.
Besides Anselm as a Tenant is his neighbor who is a Cobbler.
The Cobbler is said to be owing #6,000 for the annual rent. But
he had traveled to his Village to mourn the death of his relative.
Of the manner of people who have come across Anselm in his
cruel Condition, he is one out of them who never takes life as
being cruel to the lad. To him, everything about Anselm
compared to his own story is normal. He used to tell the Latter
how he found his way into the town. He so much admired
Anselm for the fact that he has people that take good care of
him. Their life stories are in protocol of giving and taking.
Anselm told him, himself told the latter.
According to the cobbler, life was tough and funny. He hailed
from a Place where there is no access to Secondary needs. A
Hullabaloo had ensured one day in a year, a truck driver lost
his way to their clan. Elders were summoned, the chief priest,
people and their relatives were not left out to come and watch
a house that could move. They wondered why the moving
house also had eyes that may be used to view the future.
The round stones beneath the house was thought to be
responsible for the groaning noise from the house. The big
windows could also be the same as what the eyes are made of
and they were like; that magic object a Stranger had once
brought into the clan and had collected some tokens from them
just to see their appearance on it. The surface could even
capture the sky. What a wonder it had being! The stranger had
told them that seeing the Sky and background in the magic
surface were gratuities for their payment. And they so thanked
and blessed the Trickster that they did not notice that his heart
already pounded with guilt. But as it was believed in the custom
of the land; imitation of human being either on a paper or by
sculpting method leads to the death of the imitated. They
believed that anybody who was being drawn on a surface was
liable to die.
Following the death of two persons, though in the gap of four
months, they arose suspicions on the stranger whom they had
allowed to access a free shelter for the wonder he had brought
to the land. They had earlier accepted the fate as a good one.
They were delighted to expect titanic blessings which the
Stranger had risked predicting. But things turned out bad at last.
They suspected the magic stratagem – the one that could
capture the exact appearance of anything. They claimed that it
was the cause of the ‘sudden tragedies’ and that the item be
ruined.
The Stranger had learnt at once that things were not cool and
so he fled.

The land was still as the same as it had ever being. The
dirt, erosion and everything were still as the same. On the poor
Land was a pair of old leather shoes which were eaten at the
tips. The tips were still as pointed as pencils. Veins as bold as
the roots of a tree were at a point hidden by a lengthy cheap
loose jean. A brown jacket like the skin of a dog started from
where the cheap jean stopped trying to go up. The faded
inscription on the jacket was somehow bridged by a bronze
chain and a black leather Ribbon that hung heavily on the
shoulder level going down the Hip side to hook a leather bag.
From the neck to the chin was beard. A brand new cheap cap
almost covered the smiling Eyes too. And the match of left and
right begun.
“Aham!!” a voice had bellowed from behind. The Cobbler
stopped instantly. He had not heard his name called since he
left the city. The one who had called him was already running
towards him. It was his childhood friend, Elo. The Cobbler
grinned bigheadedly at his old friend who was putting on an
old Khaki he was sure he used to put on when he had not left
the Village.
“Aham!!” his old friend could not believe it was the old Aham
he knew that stood before him in good clothes.
“Elo! Surp?” the cobbler had said stretching out his hand. His
friend confoundedly shook his hand. He was looking at him all
over.
“Let us get Home first”. The cobbler had said to his friend still
smiling.
“will you still know the way to your Father’s Home?” his friend
had responded gesturing for them to start going. The cobbler
laughed eccentrically at his yarn. “A lump of food can never
miss Its way to the mouth no matter the grade of darkness”. The
cobbler said. Both of them laughed mischievously on their way
Home.
“Elo my good friend. Surp with you?”
“Xurp?” Elo confusedly asked.
“How is everything with you?”
“Oh! Is that what ‘xurp’ means?”
The cobbler grinned proudly. His right left hand was already
buried in the pocket of his brown jacket.
“Yes”. He had replied.
“Just that one word summarized our long sentence. City
language must be a simple one then”. He looked up at his friend
who seemed taller than him.
“It is not as easy as you think… just like the bitter kola is
Terribly chewed but sweetly heard when chewed.” Elo looked
at him again. He looked at what he thought were good shoes.
“This shoes must be very expensive”. He had said.
“Yes, they are. I bought them at #12,000 then.” The Cobbler
had quickly answered but lied knowing too well that his dull
friend would have asked him.
“What!!! That was the sum Otaka used to set up his building
that contained four rooms.” Elo had compared the shoes with
the thatched house.
They were still on the road when two women had met them.
They were staring so curiously at the Cobbler who covered his
Face with cap. He looked strange to them but they did not know
he was their neighbor. Elo had automatically known it was him
through his walk step. It was the only thing that did not change
in his old friend – that constant emphasis on the left than the
right.
“Mama Nwigwe”. The cobbler called the first woman. The
second woman was Nwigurube her daughter. The older woman
whom he had called still looked strangely at him – how could
a stranger quickly call her name or had they met somewhere
before?
“Ah ah, Mama Nwigwe do you not know your son again. I am
Ahamefuna.
“Erh? Ahamefuna. Unbelievable! Is it you?” she raised he hand
to take
off the cap. The hairs in her armpit were as united as a hedge
of flowers. They were brown and stinky. She had only her
wrapper tied up to her chest. A load was upon her head.
“Ewooo, see Aham is bald!” She happily exclaimed after she
took off the cap not knowing that it had been purposely
covering his baldness .Even Elo surprisingly smiled. Aham
himself shyly smiled. The rest must have been surprised
because it had been a long time… “Where have you being since
morning?” Elo asked a boy who had approached them.
“I went to Oroke’s Place to play” the lad blurted out. He was
on ordinary Pants. His body worked all over with dust. The
hairs on his head were the same as Mama Nwigwe’s sacral
hairs
could be.
“We have been looking for you!” Elo discourteously told the
lad.
“Do you not already know how little children play? You should
allow your Son to be free because this is a vital means for him
to grow”. Mama Nwigwe had intruded. If she had not, Elo
would have being on his way to knock the boy’s Head.
“Elo, you already have a son of this size?” Aham asked. His
baldness looking more surprising.
“What are you saying? This boy here has existed for ten good
seasons.”
“Really?” Aham blurted out with widened eyes.
“I was on my way searching for him when I sighted you”. Elo
proudly said. Mama Nwigwe was looking at the re-united
friends so happily that she did not notice her daughter who was
gesturing to her to get going with her. Her daughter was looking
sad. She had even stepped aside while her mother and the
others exchanged pleasantries. Aham did notice her awkward
attitude for sure. He did not rather like to rub his majesty on the
mud – trying to relate with someone who could not even
pretend to be happy to have seen him. It is a rude manner for
that matter! Nwigurube had been so casual to him since
childhood but not to the magnitude of horsing her face when
they met. At least honor should have been due to him who was
returning from abroad – nobody even knew
the contents of his pockets! But better nobody neared him
because he had not even enough to transport himself back to
the city. It was just a silly thought – wanting people to come
and pay homage to him. He had not even enough to settle them
for their visits. Those kind of visit aimed at coming with
nothing and going with something.
“Elo, why are there not much people on the road today?” He
had asked from observance as they were both continuing their
journey home after Mama Nwigwe and her daughter had left
them.
“Are people supposed to be much on the road?” Elo answered
him without even examining his question.
“I thought people should have been on their ways to the market
or to their Homes. Have the villagers also become too
Lackadaisical for any task?”
“Yes of course! People had long ago gone to the market and
most of them are still not ready to go back to their Homes”.
“That is by the way. Have there been so many death records in
the village? How many people would be remaining now?”
Elo threw his head back and snickered mischievously at his
friend’s nasty question.
“You asked as if you expected so much people to die”.
“No that is not really what I meant. You should remember that
before I left the village, there had been so many deaths. I still
fear that most people I knew would be dead after my Father’s
old step brother had died.”
“It is not evitable for people to die at least within two or
more months. Human death is like the gradual drop of leaves
from a bulky tree. The green leaves are often forced off by wind
while the yellow ones drop at their designated time. Calculating
your years of absenteeism, you should think that more than
thirty people are in the spirit world.
Following the death of Oti was the outbreak of a strange disease
that claimed the lives of not less than sixteen people. Thank the
gods for me and my Family for we had quickly taken part in
the Efioku Sacrifice that was programmed by our able chief
Priest to mollify the deities that had revealed to him about the
Mysterious death of a sick slave long time ago. The gods
Revealed that the slave was not attended to and so he died in
the forest looking for herbs to take so that his frequent stooling
would have been stopped. The priest was able to trace the
family lineage of those who had suffered from the disease and
they happened fall into the generation of the ruling bodies back
in those days. Our able priest stated that if we had delayed in
making the sacrifices, the angry slave would not have minded
to extend the disease to other families outside that of the ruling
bodies”.
“Is Ukebe still alive? That funny old man is he still living?”
Aham held his friend’s shoulder to ask him after he had
patiently listened to his cock and bull His friend nodded. Aham
was astonished to see his friend nod. He did not expect a
positive response to come. So it is clear that people do not
live by their might but by the grace of God. Ukebe had being
an old man since Aham’s childhood. But he was not a kind of
sluggish old man. Aham had asked about him after he saw
some little boys bent over serious labor. They were making
mounds. That was what Aham himself had majored in when he
was in the village. Ukebe the widower used to hire him the most
believing his work to be so manipulative. But he had
remembered the old man based on a certain encounter one day
in his farm. There was an avocado in the west end of the old
man’s land and the old man had asked him to go up the tree and
get as many fruits as he would have wanted to consume. But
following the old man’s recent salutations and praises for him
being a good boy, he reticently refused to accept the offer.
The old man almost became irritating with his frequent
interviews on why the boy refused to accept his offer while the
boy himself wanted to play a good boy. The old man had left
him after he had informed him that he was going to the market
to buy some tobaccos and that he should dismiss himself from
the farm he would have felt like. Not too long after the old man
had left the farm and Aham was sure he had left the home as
well, he became too loose with liberty. He had suddenly
became tired of working. But he was so energetic to quickly
pester onto the avocado tree. He got as many of the fruits as his
hands could lay on. He got down from the tree and rapidly
picked the fruits.
He had loaded them in the hollow of his hoe’s blade. Trying to
Smuggle them out of the home, he jammed the old man who
had disremembered his snuff box. Aham was caught red
handed! He had no guts to look up to the old man. The most
tutorial thing was that the old man rather advised him.
Aham was so ashamed that he did not go back to the old man
to get paid for his labor but the old man was still so pious to
come to pay him for his labor right in his Father’s House.
CHAPTER THREE

The return of Aham the Cobbler was like the coming of

a governor. He did not fail to hypnotize to his people about
most things in the city. The tale that seemed so incredible to
them was the joining of buildings like one who is loading some
crates of drinks. They were surprised to hear that a house could
be on top of another. His father’s Compound had become a
situate for tourism. No question was left out. One thought it
was mandatory to ask at least three questions even if they had
been asked already. One of the popular questions was how the
city people farmed on their lands. Someone had even asked
about the size of the City Square just as there was a village
Square. There was nothing Aham said that did not surprise
them. Just like in the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand,
Elo had whispered to Aham what he should have done about
the crowd that was in his father’s compound refusing to go
decamp even when it was already dark. Aham’s father was one
of the elders in the Village and he was a close friend of the
chief… He was also scratchy about the crowd. He thought he
should have better done something to sack the crowd before
they camped in his Compound all night as though they were
witnessing a wake-keep and that would have also meant
partaking from whatever his son had brought home. He finally
stood to address the pack.
“I greet you all my people. It is with a heart full of pleasure that
I stand to welcome my son whom I thought to have been lost.
His return has also given birth to the good news we have heard
from him. The City as I imagine is a far away land, if not, we
would have all seen all these wonderful things he has told us.
The City is a good place as we all can imagine… he points at
his son. Many of them in the crowd had to take more looks at
him… “So my people, the journey from the City is so far.
Would you imagine a place that took him all morning to travel
on what he called…buz...or burf – that big house that could run
from here to Ntede without getting tired? I still thank the gods
for bringing him back Home safely. Now, may they also guide
us to our various homes as we leave? Though discontented with
information. Tomorrow I will take him to the chief so he could
pay homage to him and also, beef him up with a lot of stories
about the City then, the next day, let us gather at the village
square to hear more of his Stories.” Shuffling of feet begun in
the crowd. Aham had not mistaken with his eyes. Had he not
seen part of someone’s buttocks amidst the crowd? How poor
the villagers still remained after so many years - they still put
on turn clothes!
Going to the village to burry a relative was absolutely a
fallacy. He had devised that white lie to convince his landlady
who would have thought of any other reports as excuses for
running away from depth. Using death was more shocking and
pathetic.
His Father’s home had become silent for a while. It was just his
Father and mother, his step mother and her group of children
and Elo who felt he was too important to be included to the
villagers who had trooped out like the five thousand people
who had gone to listen to the teachings of Jesus. Elo did not
want to be left out in anything that needed to be unfolded. He
was even ready to dash to the ground and struggle any shrewd
item. He thought his friend was just about to do so. Aham’s
father at a time, snapped his fingers and one of the younger
children cleverly fled behind the house and later appeared with
a jar filled with palm wine. His fingers almost touched the
ground as to illustrate that the jar of wine was heavy. Another
child went to bring the gourds. Elo adjusted on the bench and
silently cleared his throat. He greedily praised his friend’s
father. He attributed him to be the best manner of human…
“Has the time not yet come for you to go and sleep?!!!” Aham’s
father had referred to the younger children who still squatted
around. They looked like the kind of children born in a war
period. Their ribs were as countable as Cowries. Each of
them had sluggishly jolted up like dizzy bitch.
Each of the seniors that were outside had aimed at taking
four shots. And they were all later in a misty world. Elo must
have guzzled more than the others. His drives could tell. He
was as intoxicated as a mad dog. In no distant time, he begun
to blabber all sorts of mixed stories:
Acknowledging Aham’s mother to be the youngest mother in
the whole world… “Nwi…nwigurube… hfmm… that… fool
thought she could not run from the masquerade… she felt too
old to dance for the masquerade… I was returning with the…
masquerade…” he paused and patted Aham’s shoulder. “… I
was fanning the masquerade telling him to pursue nwigurube’s
mother but he insisted in tearing down nwigurube’s wrapper
because she stole a fowl in the market… the masquerade told
me what she had done and I joined him to TEAR down her
wrapper… And when I was running with the masquerade, she
did not want to greet us. Her face was as rough as the bark of a
tree. She was only pushing her mother to leave us because I
was one of the masquerades that stripped her naked in the
market place after she was caught with a Fowl that did not
belong to her. Aham, your step mother is like a chaff with no
fiber. Her breasts are as fallen as the broken branch of a tree…”
“Elo, it is time you go to your home. Tomorrow is too far”.
Aham’s father had said to him patting his back madly.
“Tomorrow is too far? I think I should better start traveling
before it is dark”. He sluggishly jolted up and began to stagger
here and there. All about him was a network of odors. The
nefarious scent of the palm wine conjecturing a pungent body
odor. He had not taken his bath since the morning of that day.
His movement had loused from the search of his son to the
meeting of his old friend whom he had followed like a disciple
down to his Father’s home…

The sun rays reminded Aham of those days he was a little

boy – when the sun rays had cast upon somebody in his room,
it was believed that the Eyes of the gods are on you and so you
must not misbehave all through the day else, you would have
wanted to attract a bad Omen. Those were arrant nonsense as
believes, he had thought. That reminded him of what Elo had
said the other day on their way home. How the village could
not have suffered from disease or purging when they all used
the so-called public Toilet? There was a big pit Latrine behind
the village square where Goat and fowl, cat and rat all go to
excrete. And before the pit was a wooden pole that was crude
with excreta. People did not care whether or not others had ran
their anus through the pole. The pole was commonly used for a
wiper. The same ignorant people had grown to believe that the
disease was the result of the mistreatment given to some slave
years ago. What a nonsensical belief!
What Elo had also blabbered the previous night he still thought
to have had a meaning. Could it have being that Nwigurube had
stolen some fowls in the market and that Elo was amongst the
people that disgraced her? He still had to enquire from his
mother or from his step-mother – the one that seemed to know
about all the gossip in the whole village. The sign of gossip still
indicated in her succulent lips. He had stolen a glimpse at the
lips the previous night and it was as pointed as the beak of a
geese. The previous night had been crazy. Aham could not even
remember who had taken him by the hand to his room.
Someone had taken him of course but he could not remember
if it was his friend who had come to take him or a neighbor. It
was not his father! The person had seemed muscular.
He had rolled out of the mat. He must start with what he came
for. He had come home for no good. He must extort, exploit,
and export. He had made arrangements with his friend in the
city. Esese market had been arranged as their meeting place. It
is a junction before the thick bushes of Aham’s Village. There
they were to meet and negotiate their business. His friend in the
city had being a dealer in farm products for years. He dealt
mostly in yams because it was worth dying for to the city
people who were ready to buy farm products at all cost. The
business had got his friend a van which made transportation of
the goods more compound. The arrangement was that the met
at Esese Junction to transact. Aham said he was ready to give
out good yams o his friend at lower prices compared to how
much he bought from other farmers in other areas.
The chief had being informed about Aham’s visit very
early in the morning. His father was good at sending out his
children on tactical errands. Irrespective of the night vices, he
had sent out one of his younger children to go and send his
message to the chief.
The chief had ordered for a fine ewe to be slaughtered. He had
hired a specialist to neatly cut the meat to specified pieces – not
just anyhow! He had arranged for the best wine to be made
available. All his children were sent to the lake to swim off any
offensive dirt. He had also demanded some giant kola nuts and
a big head of smoked fish. He had even charged his maidens to
standby and get rid of any dirt that may have dropped on the
ground…
Aham on his own side, had taken a bit from the remains
of his shoe polish to take care of his old shoe – the same one
had worn the other day. The shoe had been dropped in his
workshop for years by a customer. And there were many others
in the workshop from which he picked four pairs. His father
and Elo were already on standby. Elo had not forgotten even a
bit of what had been discussed the previous night. Aham
dressed in what he thought was his best. The face cap was not
excluded. And on that day, he had decided to put on a
spectacle… on their way to the chief’s place, people had
stopped to watch them till they vanished into distance…
“Chief, I greet you. This is my son Ahamefuna who had
returned from the City. He has come to greet you.” He gestured
to Aham who tried to be as loyal as possible. He greeted the
chief who already opened his mouth with delightment. He
looked with much admiration from his cap down to his shoes.
He gulped in slowly with greed.
“My child, you are welcome. Please feel at home… come…”
he began to call on his wives who had been arranged in a queue
with the children. They were instructed not to have appeared
until they were told to do so. They all trooped out like a group
of sheep. Each of them delighted to see a son of their soil so
unique and genius. He was a virtuoso. The trickster wasted no
time in passing out a packet of Yale Cabin biscuit to the
surprised chief and had proudly told him: “please my chief, this
is for you”. The chief took the strange package and looked it
all over. His wives and children drew close to him so that they
viewed the strange package. The chief had smiled and asked
Aham what the package was called. Aham quickly explained
to him and so the greedy chief wasted no time in tearing the
package so inaccurately that the contents were all discharged.
His children, wives and he all dashed on the floor to struggle
for the exposed contents. A kind of smile was drawn on Aham’s
face when the chief testified that the contents were the sweetest
of all the foods he had eaten since the day of his birth…
The chief had presented to them the refreshments and
Aham was so flabbergasted to see a huge hillock of foo-foo all
made for him. But still, no time needed to be delayed against
what he had come for. He did not just dress for coming to see
the chief… and so, his trap had quickly cut the covetous
dominant who was so eager to talk about his shoes.
“My shoes?” Aham had deliberately asked.
“Yes. They must have cost you a lot. But I like them so much”
“You like my shoes?” Aham asked with a victorious smile. He
was surely getting what he wanted. To make things more even
he had said: “They cost me #12,000”.
“12,000?” The chief said as he bent to calculate with his fingers.
“Chief, that was just what it took Otaka to build his house”. Elo
intervened. The chief had looked up at him and asked:
“How did you know about that, my child?”
“Otaka used his barn of yams to pay for the construction. His
barn was made up of 12 walls of staked yams”.
“Is that so? That should imply that it is the same price for these
things he has put his feet”. The chief said.
“Exactly!” Aham played in. The chief nodded slowly like a
zombie before he had begun to boast: “If that be the case, then
the items will be mine…” he took a look at the shoes again.
“… I have about thirty…” he called one of his domestics to
ensure that he was making no mistake. The domestic had
confirmed that there were thirty six full barns of Yams. The
chief grinned proudly. He looked proudly at Aham and his
Father like they were as poor as nothing!
“Just one barn!” The chief shut his finger up and smiled.
“Bring the shoes to me any moment from now and my servants
will point out to you the barn which I will have chosen. It must
be full of fine Yams. The chief was so excited. He looked with
meaning at everybody, smiles were still written on his face. In
no distant time, he was to become the owner of those ‘fine
shoes’ – as he had learnt. Aham was smiling back at him with
a meaning he knew all to himself. He would have loved to go
on and sale his jacket, his cap or his chain but the thought of
being calm had quickly came to his head. His father was
looking unresponsive. It could either have being that he
disliked the fact that his son did not inform him in time about
what he had wanted to do about the shoes. He as a promiscuous
man had five separate barns filled with pretty yams as well. He
should have informed him that he needed a barn of yams in
exchange for the shoes. Elo wanted to think about buying the
shoes as well but he had only a barn that was not even filled
with enough good yams. Aham’s father was already regretting
why he had ever planned to take him to the greedy chief. He
needed to have talked to his son before he sold out all his good
properties to him. He bit his lips with discomfort. The happy
chief did not even notice his sudden expression. All about the
chief was happiness.
“My able chief. It has being a due protocol for a child to go and
pay homage to his elders whenever he is back from abroad. It
shows that the child still regards them. I also thank you a lot for
all you have done to entertain us. I do not know which other
way to appreciate but to thank you. The gods of our land must
repay you in wealth and in health. You shall never lack
whatever you have given to us. More blessings will remain
with you as we leave. My son told me that he also wished to
visit his mother’s people today. My point is that we will be
leaving now so that the journey which seems too far can be
shortly completed”. Elo looked disappointedly at the floor.
Suspicion could have arose if he had looked in that manner at
his friend’s father. Aham never said he was going to visit his
mother’s people but a deep sense of understanding sealed his
lips. He only nodded to concur to what his father had said,
besides he needed to cool off for the huge extortion he had
made for the day. Nobody knew what he needed the barn of
yams for. Could it be that he was going to farm in the city or
that he was going to consume all the yams? If he was going to
consume the yams, that would mean sharing them with his
friends who lived in the city because the yams are too many to
be consumed by an individual, perhaps if they may be
consumed for a whole year. Nobody knew he was planning to
sell the yams because nobody in the village had ever done so.
Every villager was a farmer on his own, therefore, they had
enough farm products to feed their families for the period of
two years. Nobody had ever introduced the idea of selling out
his yams because nobody lacked them. Elo was also prepared
to ask his friend what a hundred tubers of yams could get him.
He had just needed to try asking him though he feared one
hundred tubers could get him nothing.
“Uwakwe, may it be so as you have wished for me. I also thank
you for letting me to negotiate with your son. It is the right
thing he has done…” he paused take a biscuit. “… It is also
worth jubilating that your son has successfully transacted with
me. If we continue this way, then, nothing will tarnish our
relationship. Thank you my son for bringing these good things
to us. I might also need more of this one I am eating but I do
not know how many barns it would claim”. The chief looked at
Aham with much greed and agitation.
“Those biscuits cost me #18,000… that would be about one and
half barn”. Aham smartly answered.
“If you take one and half barn from my thirty...six barns, what
would remain?”
“Are there not supposed to be thirty six barns left chief?” Aham
asked him.
“How do you mean? My servant said I have thirty six barns…”
he called on his servant again. The servant came and stood in
front of him trying to make the impression that he was being
smart. Aham looked harshly at him. The servant was fit to be
expelled – how he set upright irritated the others.
“My chief, you have thirty-six barns!” The idiot said out loud
as if anybody had wanted to raise an argument.
“Chief, one barn is already discounted for the shoes. So, you
have thirty-five barns remaining”. Aham had corrected. His
friend nodded. The chief looked with disdain at the servant.
“You told me it was thirty-six barns I have?”
“I am sorry my chief”. The servant blurted out.
“Leave this place!” The chief angrily wove him off. He
returned to Aham and asked again: “If you take one and half
barn from my thirty….five barns, how many would be left?”
He had also joined to calculate with stones. Each stone was
meant for a barn. Aham had already bent over some stones. His
friend was helping to gather more stones. At last, Aham had sat
up and interrupted the chief who was still trying to calculate.
“You will have thirty-four and half barns left”.
“Is that so, my barns are still numerous though”. The chief
proudly responded with a sneer.
“Our dear wives, I thank you so much for your sumptuous meal.
Chief, thank you once again. We will be going as I had said”.
Aham’s father finally stood and said as he could no longer
endure the lengths. The chief happily ordered that a reserved
part of the ewe be wrapped for Aham. He stood up to stroll with
them while the person who had gone for the meat was still
locking inside…

“Ahamefuna, you did no good to me at all. Should you not

have told me about selling those shoes so and I should have
bought them instead?” Aham’s father said to him while they
were sitting alone under a huge mango tree in the coolest period
of the night. It was just the two of them. The shoes had earlier
been sent to the chief in the evening. And the chief had happily
sent them a reply that his maidens were to convey the yams to
their compound the next day.
“Papa, you are my father. I would not have the guts to sell my
belongings to you but to buy for you. A time shall come when
you will own many better shoes compared to the ones I had sent
to the chief. I will soon leave for the city and I would not waste
time in returning back with good shoes. You just have to wait
for a little while”.
“Why did you not tell me this earlier? I should not have
complained if you had told me.
“I did not know as well that the chief would have suddenly
liked my shoes”. Aham lied.
“When will you go to the city?”
“Future shall tell”.
His father was so relieved. He had to think of another topic to
introduce. He had so much missed his son. Seventeen years are
never equivalent with seventeen days!
“What are your plans?”
“How. What plans?” Aham had confusedly asked his father.
“Do you not plan to get married?” Aham was silence for a
while. Did he ever know that fortune will soon come his way
at last? All through the years he had wondered how he could
cope with a new family as a Cobbler who had not even enough
to take care of himself.
“That would be after I am back again from the city. I have to
make proper preparations”.
“What preparations? It troubles me to still hear you reason
oddly after so many years of maturity. Do you know how many
of your age mates that are fathers now? Take for an example,
Elo your friend. I love that boy’s drive. He has succeeded in
begetting his sixth child. I am so ashamed to see you back home
as a bachelor. Think about it. And do not come to tell me that
there are no good girls in the village because lots of them are
in this village. Just think about how many girls had been born
when you were still a boy and about how many girls had been
born since you left this village. Think about it…”
Aham had spoken with his city friend on the phone. He
had also brought home his little Nokia cell Phone – the one he
had thought would take about five barns of yams from the chief
with so much laughter. When once he must have told the chief
what the gadget was capable of, he would also have wanted to
give out his barns. His city friend whom he also had called the
previous night told him he was almost getting to Esese. He had
set off very early the present day. For a while, Aham had
wondered what was keeping the boy he had sent to the chief’s
place to inform him that he should order his maidens to convey
the yams to Esese, no more to his father’s place. The journey
to Esese was so far and so he feared if the chief would also
happily send his maidens. The boy he had sent later showed to
cast a sad news; the chief had refused to send his maidens to
Esese, only that they must come to his father’s compound.
Aham was stunned for a moment. He had even asked the boy
if he was sure of what he had said about the chief. He had to
pick up his phone again. He had to tell his friend about the
change of plan and that the new plan was that they met at Esese
so that they will have had to come to the village together. But
he feared that his friend would have had to learn his game.
Once he learnt that the villagers are so numb with almost
everything, he too would want to take advantage of them
directly. But he had lied as though his father was the only
substantial farmer?” Yes! That’s a brilliant idea.
The maidens had begun to arrive with the Yams. Aham prayed
their coming would have been over before he could have
arrived with his friend. Seeing the progress of the ingression of
the yams, he had left for Esese…
He had arrived home with his friend at noon. The
villagers had ran after the vehicle. Poised at its wonderful
adventures. To Aham’s friend, it was fun but as for Aham, he
feared his friend would have found out about their agricultural
exuberance. The villagers contributed a lot in uploading the
yams. But still, his friend had needed to be back the next day
for the second trip. A trip was said to have cost #500,000
regarding the fact that they were friends. Aham had taken his
friend to a lonely place to talk about and to get the money. His
heartbeat was rapid and loud. He never thought he could handle
such amount of money. He looked around before he had stolen
into his room to hide the money. He thought it clever not to
have hidden the money in his bag so that if by chance, someone
came to steal a different stuff from his bag, the money would
have not been seen. The money was wrapped in a bag and
nobody knew what it was at that moment. Aham must have had
to device a means of hiding the money so that nobody found it.
His friend was already howling outside. He quickly looked
around and stopped at a heap of palm kernels. His room was
being used to store the kernels…
“Go and call your father… I have to move!” his friend had said
to one of the younger boys whom he felt was Aham’s son.
Aham on hearing this, had quickly dug into the kernels and
buried the package. He quickly covered up and stood by. The
small boy who was sent to call him was so late. Aham grinned
weakly at him before he followed him outside. He met with his
friend who was already frowning.
“Nawa for you o! You dey count the…?” Aham’s heart had
flown. His friend understood at once. Aham looked so
helplessly at him.
“I don dey move… you go still come for that side tomorrow
make you come direct me coz I never know this place. I no
know before say na for inside forest you dey live”. He grinned
at Aham. He looked into his eyes to be sure he laughed as well.
“Abeg, make you quick commot tomorrow coz I go start to dey
come here by five O’clock”. He had continued.
“When you come na. Me wan follow you enter city tomorrow”.
Aham could briefly reply.
“No wahala. Enjoy yourself!” his friend said and laughed with
impression. He howled and drove off. The villagers still ran
after his vehicle which continued to howl at them and they were
repeating after the howls.
Aham had quickly put his hands akimbo. He thanked the lord
for his father who was not at home. His father would have spoilt
his game – his friend would also have approached his father as
the sole owner of the yams. And that would have made his
father know that yams could be traded for huge amount of
money. Aham did not know when he had thrown himself up in
the air. He had happily ran to some of his younger brothers who
were boring holes close the barn. They and their mother did not
take part in the uploading due to the numerous villagers but
they had squatted and watched the event. Their mother had
gone into the bush to get some work materials.
“What are you doing?” Aham still happily asked as he already
snatched the pointed stick from one of his brothers with the
intention of helping them bore the holes.
“Mama said we should bore the holes”. One of the young boys
had responded.
“It may be that mama wants to make a camp for her water
yams”. Aham had happily said to them.
“Did I not tell you, that mama wants to make a camp for either
her coco yams or her water yams?” One of them had said to the
others.
“You were not specific!” the rest yelled back at him. Their
mother had appeared with one other boy. They had gone to cut
sticks for the camp. She was so delighted to see her eldest son
squatting and boring a hole. She had also thought it funny –
seeing how old and odd he looked for the task.
“Why did you little children allow your elder brother to bore
the holes, have you become unmannered?” she had quickly
asked the younger boys. It was then, that Aham looked up at
her smiling. Beads of sweat were already all over his face.
“Mama, it has being a long time I did this. I just felt like going
back to my youths”. He laughed crazily. His mother was just
smiling at him.
“I had decided to make this camp so I can move out the kernels
in your room. We need to give you enough space.” Aham
quickly looked up like a bull. The expression on his face had
rapidly changed. He suddenly dropped the stick and jolted up,
“Mama I did not complain. You should leave those kernels
there because I will be leaving tomorrow.”
“To the city?” His mother still asked.
“Yes Mama. I want to go with the man who had come and
carried my yams so that I will arrange a place for them.”
“You should have prepared to go with him. Where will your
yams be tonight?”
“The man said he has a little space to accommodate them for
the interim of twenty-four hours.”
“If you go to the city, will you not come back again?”
“I must come back mama. I just want to go and make
arrangements for those yams tomorrow.”
“Then we should go ahead to clear the kernels off your room”
“No mama… ha-ha... Do not worry. That would be after I have
left tomorrow. Why not make the camp today and then send in
the kernels tomorrow?”
“The camp does not take much time to be constructed. I do not
know why you insist that the kernels be parked out tomorrow.”
His mother walked over to the clay pot to drink water from it.
“Errmmm… the smell. Yes the smell of the kernels will disturb
me while I am sleeping. If you move them out now, the room
will be impregnated by their dust and that will cause a serious
catarrh to me.” His mother concurred to what he had said.
“Then you should start parking your stuffs. I learnt that the city
is too far.”
“Yes Mama. I should also go to sleep now so I can wake up
early. I will also need to go and that man home.”
Aham had taken his supper in his room, still thought of
how to get rid of his father. His father must also not be around
the next day. An Idea had quickly come to his head. He jolted
up from the mat with immediate effect. He went to his father’s
hut to call him out.
“Ahamefuna, what is it you are calling me out for at this hour?”
Aham did not want to go in because he knew his stepmother
could be there. He did not want to get her involved in the
discussion that was about to take place.
His father had finally ducked out. Beads of sweat rolled all over
his body due to the severe heat of those days when only a tiny
window was burrowed on a building. They had gone to sit
under the mango tree. His father wondered what it was again
he had wanted to tell him after he had told him in the evening
about the next day’s travel.
“Papa, concerning the issue of marriage I want to ask you for a
favor.” His father took a deep breath and looked up in the sky.
“Go ahead my son.”
“Papa I want to marry a wife as quickly as possible…” His
father looked sharply at him.
“I want you to go and start establishing relationships with the
fathers of the most beautiful girls in this village tomorrow. You
need to start going to each of them one after the other as from
tomorrow morning because I might come back in a week’s time
to arrange for the marriage.”
“My son, this is a heavy duty you are imposing on me but I am
willing to do anything just for you to get married as soon as
possible. Just as you have instructed, I will set off tomorrow
morning first to some of my friends before I will go to make
friends with fathers of the most beautiful girls indeed. I am so
happy to see you make this decision. I will do just what you
have asked me to do.” His father smiled proudly at him while
Aham slowly grinned at his success.
“Thank you very much papa. I will do whatever it will take me
to repay you for your love and concern.”
“Hurry up and bring me those things.” His father pointed at his
feet smiling.
“I want to wear them on the day of your marriage”. He
continued.
CHAPTER FOUR

Anselm lay quietly in his room to thinking once more

about the day. He never figured out why his boss is being so
wicked. Yes. He is not just strict. All about the day was bad.
The padlock was worth crying for it had given him a tough time.
A knock was thudded on his door. He was stunned for a while.
He did not expect any visitor. He springs up to his feet and
thinking if he is not being foolish. He stops for a security
purpose.
“Who is there?” his faint voice blurted out.
“It is me” Said by a voice outside. It’s the Cobbler. Why would
he be returning so late and what has he got to do with him? He
opened the door and the Cobbler slowly came in. his clothes
were wet all over. Anselm still surprisingly glared at him. He
did not know whether or not to ask him what was wrong. The
cobbler walks over to the window and tells him to shut the door
because days are getting worse. What makes the Cobbler to be
ordering him around in his own room? He was panting slowly.
He looked finished.
“This world is so cruel!!!” the cobbler lets out loud.
Anselm casts an exasperating look on him. Had the world
always been good?
It had occurred that the cobbler was robbed on his way
to the city earlier in the day. He had called his friend on
Tuesday to find out why he had not showed up as at noon but
his mobile number was not reachable. He had tried dialing the
number several times before he had thought it wise to save his
airtime which could not have been easily replenished if it had
ran down. He had waited and nobody drove a van towards him.
He had to go back to his father’s place. And his father was
stunned to meet him still at home in the evening. They had
believed that his friend’s van was the only means of transport
to the city because he had joined a truck driver who had lost his
way into the village. He had learnt that the truck driver was
from the city and so he had joined him claiming to have already
known the city.
The next day was just the playback of the previous day. He had
also waited but no one had come. He thought as much if it could
have being that the vehicle got spoilt or had a kind of problem.
No time was needed to be delayed. He had wished he got to the
city the previous day. His mother most wondered about the
yams that were left over.
On Thursday, a man had visited him. He was so curious to
know what it could have cost him to meet his demand. The
cobbler was not in the mood to take advantage of their
agricultural exuberance. He had dismissed the man after he had
assured him that he would be back to respond to him – that is
after going to the city.
And what was it that the man had asked for? He had asked to
know how many barns of yam as he had learnt, would claim
‘that magic device’ that could reveal the appearance of human
faces and of course the sky! The man did not also tell him that
he needed the device against his enemies since it could also
claim the life anyone who peered into it. He wanted his enemies
dead just after a peer.
Collecting more barns was not the issue at stake. His friend still
did not show up on Thursday.
On Friday morning he had set off on his own. He had boarded
the bus and was confidently seated. He was worth equal to the
task of chattering the bus in whole. The hawkers seemed too
cheap to cheap with their goods. Those storey-buildings he
used to admire so much had were all worth renting. He mocked
the government for having so much money and yet, not able to
construct good roads. Not long after they had turned into the
dirt road, some log of woods were lined up across the road. Sad
expressions were written all over his face. Who are the crazy
fools that had put up such ugly acts? Some bad looking touts
had appeared with their clubs hoisted up. They were not
looking happy. Before the cobbler could have known what was
taking place, other passengers were already sprawling on the
ground with panic. He was still seated in the bus, his hands still
clung to his bag.
“Get down here!! Are you a bastard?!!!” one of the touts had
shouted before he had quickly attacked him with his club. The
tout took him by the collar and threw him out. The cobbler
feared his money was never going to be with him again. He
quickly took to his heals and two tough guys went after him.
While running, he had wished it was all a dream. He had tried
to run like he did in his youths when nobody saw his back in a
race but his legs seemed too heavy to have carried him quickly.
He had wondered what it was that hovered loudly like a
Helicopter. If he had not turned to his left, the club would have
dealt him a fatal blow. That would have meant unconsciousness!
He was shocked by the thud of the club. The robbers still went
rapidly after him. The cobbler was growing tired. His stomach
seemed heavy and he was even hearing the footsteps that came
after him. Tension was completely taking over him like in a
dream. He had given up his bag and drifted with all his might
down the thick bush path. The robbers still thought he had more
to protect and so they had persistently went after him. Wild life
in the village had taught the cobbler a lot. He had gladly dived
into a greenish damn and played a sinking game. The robbers
soberly retreated…
The cobbler had found his way out of the forest. He
seemed lost to himself. He had stood by the road side waving
at vehicles that by-passed, He knew too well that no one would
have found him worthy into their vehicle in his appearance. He
was dripping all over. It was when all hope was lost and he was
squatting at a corner that a ford transit had stopped. The driver
had got down to adjust a load that was trying to fall out. The
cobbler had quickly rushed to him bowing and greeting
severally. The driver was rather looking disturbed.
“How may I help you?” he had queried.
The cobbler rushed his unpleasant tale believing same to be
pathetic.
“Where exactly you were heading to?”
“City!” the cobbler had timidly returned. The driver had sighed
and pocked his nose.
“Look at this man. Do you not know the name of the City you
were traveling to?”
“Ibadan”. The cobbler had shyly let out.
“I see. You are in Awka because your driver thought he was
taking a short cut. I am going to Onitsha to deliver these goods.
But I will pick you from here and drop you there so that you
will know how to find your way”. The cobbler confusedly
stood – did not know if it was right to tell the driver to go or to
be quiet and flow with the river. He thought he had made a
mistake. The driver had already got behind the steering wheel.
The cobbler had to submit himself in the vehicle before the
silver (And not Gold) Opportunity could have come.
More blessings had rained on him when they had got to Onitsha.
Same driver who had dropped him looked with so much pity at
him. So much pitying that he was moved to give him money to
pay for an attachment in one of the commercial buses. He had
also directed him to a park. And the cobbler almost dismantled
his wrist waving at his helper.
It was not easy – being attached in a bus. Apart from stomach
upset and robbery, attachment was the worst thing that could
happen to a passenger. Worst of it all could be when one was
attached with rude passengers who could heartlessly tell you to
take your weight off their loads.
The passengers with the cobbler were going to common
destination – the last bus stop at Ibadan!
The cobbler had always been lucky at last. The last bus stop
was somewhere around T-Junction. He still just had to trek to
his place anyway. It was clear to him that there was no other
Good Samaritan around. He needed not to have been
flabbergasted at people’s reaction because they were in a place
he already knew. But he still had lightly regretted coming right
to the city. How was he going to cope with nothing? He had
purposely gone to his village to bring fortunes…
Anselm still stole a look at him for the umpteenth time.
Why has the cobbler returned to his room from nowhere?
“Do you what is life without fortunes?” the cobbler refers to
him. The lad shakes his head in response.
“A large land with no vegetation! A land is not absolutely useful
without fields no matter how spacious it may be. And why must
field or vegetation qualify the land to being useful? It’s simply
because it is an evidence of growth. A land that cannot grow
vegetation also cannot accommodate development. I have lived
all my life struggling to dust myself off poverty but it just keeps
clouding all over me and my efforts.”
Anselm still did not understand what this man was talking
about. He only nodded like he understood anything. The
cobbler did not speak again until he got up on his feet. His
clothes were almost dried of the sweat that had so bastardized
him. He looked drunk at Anselm like he was about to attack
him.
“Go and hit the world kid! Go out and make money and be sure
not fall back with nothing!” He waved his hand up towards the
door. He slowly walked to Anselm and held him by the
shoulder and said:
“Money has a spirit that drives you crazy. When you have a lot
of it, do not let yourself misbehave like you are drunk. You
must control your money and not otherwise.”
Anselm still looked so flabbergasted. What has come over this
man? He silently thought.
The cobbler as if to have learnt his thought quickly draws closer
to him pointing at his head.
“Don’t you ever think that money is too much friend!!!? Once
you think so, it will make you go crazy!! Do you under-
stand!!!?” He shouted and shook the lad violently.
The door sounded with several knocks. Anselm has to run
before it falls out. It is there old land lady standing before the
door.
“O boy, you dey craze? You no know say na night be this?
Wetin make una dey shout like that!?” Anselm looked away
from her bare breasts. He tried looking back at the cobbler
through the darkness in his room.
“Come, you dey craze? Wetin make you dey shout for inside
my house!?” she drew him by the hand. Her face as textured as
hill top. Her mouth odor as pungent as the scent of fish. She
was so fond of frequently licking her lips.
“Who dey inside with you?” she persisted. The cobbler yanks
his mouth open. He whispers to Anselm not to reveal his
identity.
“You no wan talk? I say who dey inside?” She hit the door.
“My friend.” Anslem blurted out, looking sideways.
“Your friend na man aby na woman. Open this door well make
I see whether na man or woman.” She made to push the door.
Anselm grips the door. His eyes wobbling with tension.
“Mama Good evening.” The cobbler lets out with a boyish tone
believing it to be much cunning. The old woman stops then,
steps back. She licks her lips.
“Because say your friend come na’ im una no go let person rest.
If una wan make noise make una go junction. I no wan hear
noise for here again. You dey hear me so?” she turns to leave
but stops to ask Anselm’s friend if he has heard too.
“O boy, you wey come person house if you know say you go
make noise, go home!! You hear me so?” she switches her torch
and points the light at the said Anselm’s friend to be sure he got
what she said. But who was it that got exposed? It’s the cobbler!
The expression on her face quickly turned awkward. She peers
into the room to be sure of her sight.
“Aham! So na you be the friend aby?” she starts coming back
into the room.
“You dey around since aby? And na fgor this boy house you
dey sleep.”
“No, mama na now I just dey come so.” The cobbler defended.
She draws Anselm by the hand to question him on his lies.
“O boy, why you lie say na your friend. You be devil?”
Anselm cast his eyes on the ground. He shyly bit his lips. The
old woman put her hands behind then, repeats her question not
minding whether she may bastardizing the lad with the spittle
that rained from her mouth. Anselm became trapped again by
tension.
“We be friends na! Anselm na my boy na. im be my friend na!
Ah-ah, mama me and be friends na!” the cobbler cleverly
claims.
“Im for talk say na Aham wey dey inside with am.” The old
woman insisted.
“Mama, im go be say the boy think say you don know say me
and am dey friend na!” Aham obstinately defended.
“O boy, when person ask you question make you try give am
original answer, you hear me so?” she refers to Anselm who
quickly nodded at her correction.
“Come o, Aham no think of say you wan enter that room
without my money”. She pointed at the cobbler’s room.
“If you no get money to pay me, park your load go die!! No
come be parasite for where other people dey.” She continues to
lips as she turns to go. She still would not stop grumbling as
she leaves.
The house was already old before it was all left to her by
her husband whose eyelids are closed in death. Her husband
used to be a whacko of one kind. He had took advantage of
wayward persons – collecting much from them just to squat in
his place for a night or more. The longer one stayed the costlier
his rent became. Before, the man had made the impression that
it was a home for strangers. He had found it funding after he
was dismissed from the duty of a school guard.
He had jammed the school principal in the church after one
Sunday morning mass. The principal was so hypo crated with
a churchy feeling that he was ready to go all the way it may
have taken him just to drive the poor man to his place.
When an Educational Secretory visits a school, the head of the
school is ready to even hide the school bell so they are pitied
for lacking a lot. The poor guard did not disclose to the
principal that he earned his living from the token he collected
from the wayward people. The cobbler had let out his little
secret. He was an orthodox Christian and so was still preparing
for church as at half-past nine. Seeing the principal, he had
played his humble game: bowing and greeting repeatedly. The
old guard had stared at him so disdainfully. How he could he
have come to spoil his game.
“Is this your son?” the principal had referred to the old fellow
but the cobbler was too quick to zap in. The old man who had
already thought of telling lies felt like standing up to go and
break the head of the stupid one. He still thought he could cover
up.
“What are you saying?” he had asked pretending to be so
oblivious. The cobbler still furthered to rubbish his game. He
had obliviously told the principal about his position in the
house.
The principal used to pay the guard monthly visits. They
were good friends anyway. Only that was difficult fighting the
world. He had no choice but to promote what they had imbibed
on him as justice for the female teacher who was stripped by a
beggar. He had dismissed the guards to show that he was much
concerned. And the lady was so cold-blooded not to have
pleaded on their behalf at least for sake of their families. Oh!
Women of the world. What makes you arrogantly spoilt with
pride? The lady had rather felt it was what relieving and
justified not considering if her fathers were going to die after
their dismissal.
The old man never believed a jovial kind like the principal
could turn out to be so rude. What if the lady had been stripped
and it appeared that nothing was covering her groin? Would the
guards have been sentenced to death or life imprisonment?
The poor guards thought they were doing the right thing –
letting the poor beggar in since they had nothing to offer him.
All same as better, the old man’s death seemed to be a
blessing of one kind. The principal did not know what in
particular he could employ as to compensate and console the
old guard’s lonely wife. He thought as much, a provision that
could serve a memorial and recipient purpose. And so, he had
decided to build a little house to inflate their leasing revenue.
That was fairly what the old man had established to help
himself out of poverty. The wife was supposed to perpetually
benefit from that as well…
And what is the reason for the change of plans? The principal
had started with the building project amassing all tribute and
benedictions from the poor widow who ascribed him to be the
most generous of mankind. The principal clogged at a phase of
the building. He had last shown up the day he came to rent one
of the only three old rooms for Anselm and since then, never
came back. Could he have thought that building the house was
not going to be so necessary. The widow is already of advanced
years though. And they have no progenies to inherit the
property. Would it not be nice if he patiently awaited the
widow’s bereavement? After she must have expired, he would
boldly return to demolish the meagre structures and set up
either an industry or some malls. His ownership would only be
a conviction – nothing more. And he had also learnt that the
land was somewhat capacious. He never thought a pauper
could still reserve such a hectare of land when development
was rapidly taking place. So he may have thought about that!
The old woman never bordered Anselm for house rent over the
years believing he was betrothed to her generous helper who
may have been pinned down by so much work load, travels,
appointments or illness. She still believed he would finally
come one day to give the project a bartending completion. But
few years has gone by; still no sign of him.

Anselm sees himself as being byzantine. Whatever it

may be that the cobbler refused to tell him has also became a
cargo to him. He has to drop his key. The cobbler is still lying
carelessly on the floor. His mouth open and soggy.
Anselm feels all is going to be over. There will be no way the
cobbler will come to border him.
He closes the door after him and beholds the old woman seated
on a collapsed trunk. He buzzes his greeting then gets going for
work. He knew too well that the woman must be casting a
derisive gaze at him – as if she seems to see through his skin.
He does not have to care whether or not the old fellow is
watching. All he has to worry about is his boss whose harsh
policy still strictly stipulates that Saturdays are also workdays.
According to the infamous fellow, ‘works on Saturdays are as
imperative as opportunity’. He had wisely drafted Saturday as
the day of the interns – the only day they will always have
access to work tools so that their understanding of the work
through the weekdays is examined. He would stand readily
behind them to twist their ears at any slenderest mistake…
The cobbler finally wakes. He willies his head, still blaming
and grumbling against the world. He reaches out for his phone.
After a deep breath, he dials his friend’s number. He quickly
looked with disdain at the device after he has been warned
about low airtime. He jolted up thinking what exactly to do.
Calling his friend could be as important recovering his lost. It
would be much important than to worry about what to eat. He
has to renew his airtime but there is no money. He is as
bankrupted as an empty pocket.
‘This fag could be hiding his little cash somewhere.’ He
thought as his eyes went round the room, His hands akimbo.
There is a bag hanging on the wall. The cobbler so much
suspected it to be enclosing a touch. He goes to get it down. A
fifty naira was caught at the first peer. He grins so mockingly.
‘How careless this fag must be.’ He thought and grinned again.
He was disappointed not to have seen anything more. He still
had to take the fifty naira for at least a snack. He had starved
the previous night. He reached the door but did not open it. He
had to peer through the bugged holes to be sure no old woman
was around. It luckily appeared that the old woman was already
strolling out of the compound. He must remain still until she
was totally gone. Just as he was awaiting her departure, an idea
flew into his head. He grinned so proudly at his intelligence.
He could stand the chance of sleeping in his room without the
concert. He had lost all he had with his bag. His bag which he
gave up for his dear life. His bag that also contained his
prospect. His keys were inside too.
He unbolts the door and safely seepages to the door of his room.
Without thinking twice, he dashes for a stone which would
engineer the charge of damage. He ends up hammering the
padlock thrice and it is forced vulnerable. He sprints into his
room aiming to make away with his tool box. He is so much in
emergency because he did not want to let the old lady know
about his presence any longer. If luck is by his side, he could
be able to work out money for a recharge card at the end of the
day…
The old woman had always walked wisely – ‘two steps,
eyes on the ground.’ And so she had seen a fifty naira note on
the ground. Blaming the children of new generation, she
stopped to pick the money. She believed it must have been
released by Anselm. The poor lad was so much in a haste that
he had failed to notice her signal. She was trying to call the boy
in a quiet manner knowing the cobbler would have heard them
talk about him even from afar. But Anselm was such a faggot
to have failed her game. Always thrusting his poor head in one
direction!

“Today is no day for practice. We must finish the

enormous works at hand. The church man said he is coming to
carry the pews, so we must all put in our best to get the work
done. If any of you may be so robust, he must not fail to utilize
it so immensely.” The boss informed his apprentices. There
were the three of them. Anselm still expected the boss to
mention Godwin’s absence on the previous day but that he did
not do. They have got so much work to do and so, there would
be no time to state punishments. It is two months since a street
Catholic Church had conferred the contract on the boss who
had appointed the present date to be the day of settlement, yet
half of the work is still not done. Constructing pews was never
a joke. The apprentices were stunned to hear their boss call
them by strange nick names. He was so doing to make them
more dedicated to the work.
“Godey my man, please help me with that packet of four
inches.” The boss says with a smile. Godwin looks at other
interns to help him worry about what had come over their boss.
He even pleaded with him to help get the nails. It was not so on
other days when he shouted at them to quickly get one material
or the other. And at the end of the day, they had always gone to
their places with malaise. Anselm thought for a moment that it
was impartial – giving Godwin such a good treat. Was he not
absent just the other day?
“Have you all eaten since morning?” The boss asked. This
question made the boys all throw back with shock. Okwy, the
third of them was so shocked that he stupidly responded with
meaningless words – reasoned like one who is dumb.
They all returned negative responses. Godwin even added that
he had starved for some days. The boss’s eyes budged like it
was the first time he heard of such.
“Starvation is so bad. In fact it is worse than death! And for that
reason, we will all observe a thirty minutes break from twelve
o’ clock. Now, let’s aim at making five pews before then.”
Hearing this, Godwin deliberately knocks a hammer against his
finger. He lets out the lord’s name pressing his hurt finger so
tight. The boss suddenly drops his tool and footages to him.
“Is it so painful? Let me see. I’m so sorry. You should be careful
next time okay?”
Godwin sarcastically nodded. They were supposed to construct
twenty pews for the underpopulated church yet they were still
locking at a pew as at 9 o’clock…

It was unfortunate for the cobbler after he had punitively

demanded for an egg roll and a sachet water. He caused the
retailer for being so lousy with her business like he was some
boss.
“You must not aim at cleaning your eyes with toothpick. In
business, you are not supposed to be naughty! Your business is
as significant as your headway.” He plunged his hand into his
hip pocket with the purpose of settling the poor retailer and
going away. Those officers must have been roving around for a
‘shoe shiner’. He must have to go quickly for good grabs. He
plunged his hand into the other pocket even though he was so
sure the money was in his right pocket. He pulled his hand out
with disenchantment. What must he do to surmount the shame?
– After he had bigheadedly performed like a superior.
“I gave you money already.” He put up with a solemn stare.
“No. Do you not remember waiting for me to come and attend
to you?” The retailer cleared.
That’s true, the poor retailer was wise though. The bitch still
could remember accurately. He thought she was going to say
sorry for forgetting that she had been given money already. He
was already grinning at the hundred naira note the woman
crisped in her palm. He thought she was sheepishly going to
give him a balance without thinking that she had come out with
any money at all. What must he do? He has to surrender before
he is clubbed to death by the ruthless people of the cruel world.
He surrendered the items and moved away, grumbling against
the world…
His shop is only a canopy attached to a fence by the road
side. The place is as murky as a poultry. It has been many days.
Everything needs to be put in order else, no one would come
its way. That is one secret to a liberal business: - Orderliness!
Every site for business needs to be in order. How is the cobbler
to start when a broom is not even available? He looks around
for a stick or something convenient. While organizing the place,
an SUV pulls up. He looks up with titanic suspense. It is the
principal. He seems younger even after the several years. The
smile on his face is worth excellence.
The cobbler severally bowed and greeted. The principal only
believed that he was too humble for mankind.
The cobbler already drew close to his Nissan Rogue and stood
by the side screen. He so much wished he could ride with the
big man. He knew too well where he was heading to. He had
dropped by severally.
“Longest time young man. Where have you been hiding
yourself?” the principal put up.
That’s true. He has been hiding indeed. The cobbler grinned.
“I had gone to visit my people.”
“I see… are you not too busy right now?”
“No sir. Not at all. I did not even plan to work today. I just came
to see if the place has not been ripped off by this cruel
government you know. I did not really come to work.” He
gladly denied with a smile. He was just trying his best so he
could ride with the school proprietor who was actually heading
to ‘Efdebo joint’ – a place that has progressively become
popular. Before the time, it used to be a liquor shop often
occupied by laymen and lots of flies. Laymen who could not
meet the price of one complete bottle of ‘baron’ or ‘Natus’. The
place has become entirely reformed ever since constructions
were started around T-Junction. It has become a place where
contractors went to give themselves good treats at their
expedient times…
The school proprietor goes there on every Saturday to seat and
study the state of things in the area – to know how far
constructions are going around. Another vital reason is to
investigate on the old woman_ to find out whether she is still
in his way or that she has finally withered. He also has explored
on the late guard’s kinfolk background. He goes around telling
people that he is the decedent’s nephew.
With the cobbler, he had driven to Efdebo. The cobbler was so
glad to beef him up with conceivable statistics about the old
woman.
“I hope you guys are taking good care of her?” the principal
had sarcastically asked.
“Sure! We are doing our best. I had even accompanied her to
the market four days ago. I so much pity the old ones because
they are just too tired for any task. They are so helpless.” The
cobbler had responded with a grin.
“That’s very good. How is her health? I mean, have she been
sick lately?” the principal grinned back.
“No, not at all. She is very much okay.” The cobbler replied
ready to guzzle the alcohol. The principal folded his arms and
dropped his head down thinking: ‘it seems like this jerk would
be of great help. The problem is that he would not be able to
seize the old woman’s life. If not, this jerk would have perfectly
done the job with the aid of pestilential drugs. He only has to
sacrifice patience just before he could take over everything.
The cobbler freely throws his head back at a shot. He drops the
cup on the table also thinking: ‘I think I can really make
fortunes out of this rich fool. I will gently caress his body with
a blade but he would not be able to know. I swear I can make
millions out of him. I just have to keep deceiving him…’
He smiles at a plate of hot pepper soup which has just been
dropped on their table. He has to keep the ball rolling before
the final whistle is blown.
“Chief, do you not think it’s a good idea – to pay our old
woman a visit?” he deliberately asked.
The proprietor never wanted to appear before the old fellow
until she goes frost. But this jerk would not just know his game.
“Ah… really? I have always thought about that but you know,
we the money handlers will always have a timetable for
everything. You should know much about old people. They
would always delay your time with their many tales and so you
may not meet up with other things you have prearranged to do.
I do not come to this place actually. There is a friend of mine
in that transport enterprise. I grew up with him when days were
so tough. And in this age I always visit him on Saturdays. You
see, Saturdays somehow are free days for me.” The proprietor
framed up. He thought he was playing a nice game on the jerk
who just smiled and nodded like he was a fool.
“Ah… chief I see – you are such a busy man. I was just moved
to ask you for a visit because I have noticed that our old mother
(woman) is starving. She has nothing to eat. Oh! How helpless
she was looking the other day and I, a mere cobbler was moved
to help her with the little sum of two hundred naira – what I
hardly earn per-day...” The cobbler bit his lips claiming to be
emotionally down casted. The proprietor was truly moved. He
seemed quiet for a moment.
“I think I will have to give you something for her upkeep. I just
told you that I am too busy for her long tales you know…”
He finally said.
“Oh! Chief that will be most kind of you. I just wish good
givers should never lack because not every giver is good. Chief
you are so good and generous. My prayer last night was that
the good lord may bless the rich who help the poor. Our old
mother will be so relieved.”
“It’s alright young man. I love your drive. I pray also to the
good lord to bless every man.”
“That’s a good prayer. But not all men deserve God’s blessing.
Most people in the world are so wicked!”
“You should not say so. God decides for all men.”
“I am so sorry for saying so. It’s just that I am so vexed by the
wicked ones. Just the other day when I was accompanying our
old mother to the market, a big jeep with tinted glasses and
bogus tires had almost ran over her. Do you know what the rich
fool in the car had stopped to say? ‘You want to paint my tires
with your poor shit you old bitch?’
The proprietor was moved once more. He bit his lips over and
over again.
“Again chief, I have always waited for an opportunity with you
so I could ask about your project – the uncompleted building.”
The cobbler looked so inquisitively at the proprietor.
“That I have not forgotten. The fact is that I am somehow out
of fund. Just last week, I paid a loan of thirteen million naira in
order not to be indicted. And so, I am running out of fund.”
“I see.” The cobbler returned his concentration on the pepper
soup. He sipped the contents out of the spoon so hungrily that
the proprietor smiled.
“Lest I forget…” the proprietor deeps his hand into his breast
pocket and pulls out a huge cash. The cobbler greedily looks
up then coughs and the proprietor still smiles.
“Are you still wowed by money at your age?” he says to the
cobbler.
“As I was saying; lest I forget, you will have to help me
dispense these money to the old woman and the boy Anselm.
Give the old woman two thousand and give the boy two
thousand as well, then you take one thousand.” He says,
smiling. The cobbler quickly cleans his hands on his trioses
grinning. He sits up to carefully take the money with his two
hands. He welcomes the money like a baby, smiling at clement
Isong and his fellow.
“Chief, the land would have been green all-through if all men
were like you. You are pious in the direction of clemency.
Today, God is recording your good deed and his angels are all
glorifying his name for winning a vote in the election with devil.
God blesses those who practice blessing.”
The proprietor was carried away already. He plunged his hand
into his hip pocket and pulled out another fat cash. He was just
smiling. His face inflated with pride. He carefully singled out
a thousand naira note and handed it over to the cobbler for his
upkeep. The cobbler gladly caught the money still looking at
the rest in his hand.
“You see what I am saying. A true generous man is never
satisfied with his generosity. May the good lord continue to
replenish your plate as you continue to feed the poor from it?”
“That’s alright. You have to finish everything on the table – I
am already taking my leave because I’m out of time.” He stood
up and left. The cobbler continued beaming and drumming on
his clever head. He stampeded the floor like a child that has
been endowed with a Christmas dress. His tongue has brought
so much fortune to him. He cast a rapacious look at the plate of
unfinished pepper soup which the big man had abandoned. He
first reached out for the bottle of whisky which was not even
halved of wine. ‘God must not allow those scums to come and
partake this money.’ He greedily thought as he proudly fed…

Anselm had opted that he needed snacks in place of rice

after their boss gave them money for lunch. The rest rather
wanted something heavier and so they had shared the money
amongst themselves. One hundred and fifty naira per person
and Anselm on his way to T-Junction was halted by a Nissan
Rogue. ‘Who is messing with me?’ he had thought scornfully.
“Always looking innocent!” The proprietor had popped his
head and said to him with a smile. The latter’s eyes budged
with astonishment. ‘This man still exists?’ He had thought.
“Where are you heading to?” The proprietor continued. His
index finger over his upper lip, his thumb against his jaw while
the rest of his fingers were suspended. His hand so fresh and
fairy. Traditional attires always fitted his nice body.
“To…to buy something.” The boy timidly stammered.
“Alright. How is work going with you?” the proprietor pressed
on.
“Fine.” The boy nodded. He crisped the money in his hand so
tighter like the man was out to seize it.
“I gave some money to the cobbler. You go collect your share
from him when you get home.”
Anselm could not even quickly say thanks before the rich man
wind up and zoomed off, then he had let out an
incomprehensible word of appreciation. He gazed into the
depth with so much respite… he smiles to himself: ‘He seems
younger.’…
Before he could get back to the workshop, the boss
himself was already being pinned down by a hefty man who
may have been aiming at seizing his breathe. He saw Godwin
and Okwy peeping from a corner – Godwin gesturing to the
hefty man to go ahead, Okwy just doing the laughter.
It appeared that the hefty man was the one that awarded their
boss the contract. He has come to carry the pews but there were
only eight of them! He was so mad at the disappointment. A
monsignor is supposed to visit their church and celebrate the
holy mass with them. Their intention was to impress the high-
ranking priest with their development so that they were not
forgotten in cathedral level.
The hefty man was so angry with the boss remembering the
argument that had ensured between him and their residential
priest vis-à-vis the better workman. The hefty one had insisted
that Benjamin the boss was more competent and cheaper
compared to whom the priest had mentioned…
The boss coughs and spits. His eyes so reddish due to the life
terminating thing the other man was trying to do to him. The
hefty man had got himself off his body. The boss still coughed
and wheezed. The hefty man looks up nefariously at the young
boys’ faces one after the other.
“You are his lazy interns isn’t it?” he begins to move towards
them. He begins to move rapidly towards Anselm who was
nearest to him.
“Run! Run! Idiot!” the other boys urged him. Anselm took to
his heels and headed towards the direction to his place. Each of
the boys safely fled to their place.

Anselm still met the cobbler inside his room. The cobbler
grinned at him.
“Farm boy, how was your day?” He asked proudly. His mouth
drawn up by grins.
Anselm only nodded to him.
“You must be famished by now. Let me see if I can give you a
little money to go and buy food for us. I thank God for making
little money today. Costumers are so scarce these days. Nobody
puts on leather shoes these days.” He blabbered as he safely
singled out a thousand naira note. He looks up the lad saying
with a smile:
“This is the only money your uncle could make today. Be sure
you do not extend the expense over three hundred naira and be
careful so you don’t lose the balance. Make sure to check your
balance. Traders are so cunning these days. They may give you
torn money and you would not even know.” He laughed quietly.
“Go and come back so we will make plans… what’s the look
on your face?”
“I was told by principal that you have my money.”
“What money?” the cobbler looked evasively at him.
“The money he said he had given you to give me.”
“When?”
“Today”
“Ah... oh! That I’ve already forgotten.” He grinned. Anselm
still looked indifferently at him.
“He did give me money to give you but I used it to buy a thread
for my work. You will have to subtract Five hundred from the
money I have given to you even though it was two hundred he
had given me to give you. It does not matter anyway. Just take
five hundred for I have added three hundred to your two
hundred. I hope you understood what I have said.”
The latter nodded and turned to go.
“You can’t even say thank you. Rude boy!”
“Thank you sir.” The latter turned and responded.
“Nice one! You are fast in learning. You know what, buy a food
that worth five hundred, then you take the balance.”
“Thank you sir.”
“That’s enough. You have to go and come back quickly because
I may be hungrier than you are!” ‘Bush boy, he thinks he is as
wise as’. He thoughtfully mocked the latter who had taken off.
He smiles and claps.
“Take this.” The cobbler handed the latter a drink they
were supposed to share. The boy caught the bottle looking
greedily at him. He had taken so much advantage of the drink.
“Eat and listen to what I have to say to you. In this world, you
only have to make things work out well by you and not things
working over you. You must have to be out for grabs. What am
I saying? I am trying to make a plan with you. As you see me
now, do not think that I may be having a lot of money. I can’t
even afford to pay my rent but I can freely sleep in that room.
Ask me how?”
“How?”
The cobbler grins and continues:
“If only you will help me out. There are two roles I want you
to play while I sleep freely in my room. You must not let that
old garbage know that I am still living in this compound. Again,
my padlock is broken though one may not know perhaps he
pulls it. I would not buy a new one so the old one would not
find out that I still live here. This area is rapidly developing and
so nobody would want to come and rent an out-of-date room.
When it is barely day break, I will go my way. At nights, when
the old one is indoor, I will tip toe into the compound and you
must already be on standby so that when the she may ask to
know who is still walking in the still of the night, you must be
able to convince her that you are the one…”
“What if she asks about the night worker every day, should I
continue to tell her that I am the one? If it may be so, she must
still ask me what I am always doing outside at identical odd
times.”
Anselm interrupted.
“How can she be asking about the night walker each night? Do
you take me for a fool – that I would not try my best to tip toe
quietly? Farm boy! You will just be outside in case her ears may
decide to function well. Is there any other foolish question you
may want to ask?”
“Does it imply that you will be coming back at nights? If that
may be so, how would you make arrangements for you meals?”
“As if you feed me! Listen you fag, our mission starts tonight
you must not fail otherwise you would be exposed. The old one
who sees you as an innocent lad would know your secret odds.
When it is dark, I will leave your room. And do not forget that
we must go outside at the same time.”
Later in the evening, in that hour that allows no one to
clearly see his finger nails, the old woman journeyed to
Anselm’s door. She took all the time to knock. The cobbler
looked at Anselm who had risen to go to the door. He also stood
and tip toed towards the corner of the door so that the old
woman might not be able to catch him even with her torchlight.
“O boy, your friend no dey?” the old woman asks the boy who
opened the door. He shook his head vehemently. The old
woman still flashed her torch into the room and it was true! The
cobbler was not inside. She returned her gaze to the lad.
“Im tell you say im no go come back today?”
The boy shook his head.
“Okay. No gree make im come your house again. If I know say
im dey sleep for inside your house I go pursue the two of you.
You dey hear me so?”
Anselm still nodded. The old woman still persistently stood
like she still has a lot to say.
“When you dey comot for morning time, you throw way your
moni. I come pick am. See am.” She brought out the fifty naira
note. The cobbler yanked his mouth open. ‘So, this it – how it
had got lost.’ He thought.
Anselm was still gazing at the money with surprise. He could
not remember taking his last card away from his bag.
“No be you get the money?”
He shook his head to deny the money.
“If the money no be your own, im go be your friend own. God
don punish am. I no go give am this money.” She safely tucked
the money into her wrapper. Anselm was ready to close the door.
“Come O boy, make you no gree am sleep for your room, you
dey hear me so?”
Anselm nodded.
“Make you no gree am you hear? If you gree am, two of you
go comot for this compound.” She gestured at him. The lad still
nodded and finally closed the door.
“Do not bolt it.” The cobbler whispered. Anselm nodded.
“Why did you not collect the money from her?”
“It’s not mine.” The lad whispered back to him shuddering.
“Silly boy! You can’t even think properly. Do you not
remember taking the money from your bag?” the cobbler
induced. Anselm gazed like he was trying to remember.
“Don’t you remember me calling you ‘big boy’ in the morning
when you were taking the money from your bag and you were
grinning so proudly like a fish?” The cobbler went on to frame.
Anselm still looked confused.
“Are you not so intelligent enough even to recall on something?”
“I do remember. I may have taken the money not knowing. You
know, sometimes you try so hard just to remember what you
must have actually done but you can’t really remember.” The
boy concluded, smiling. The cobbler sarcastically grinned back
at him. ‘Look at this dummy – he’s trying to lecture me.’ He
mocked him thoughtfully.
“Do you often not remember what you really have done?” he
asked the boy deliberately.
“Yes, what about you?” the boy returned.
“It happens to me sometimes as well.” The cobbler lied. “It
happens to everybody.” He continued.
CHAPTER FIVE

The cobbler was finally able to connect with his friend –

the yam dealer. He was so mad that he did not even care to ask
what had gone off beam. His friend also had angrily cut the call.
How could the fellow be so ignorant not to have asked about
his wellbeing as if he was owing him in anyway? Was he not
so carried away the day he was paid for the yams?
His friend was on his way to the city on that very day he
had gone to cart the yams. The journey seemed so far and his
vehicle was overloaded with so many yams. He had to drive
safely. It was about a kilometer to the city when his vehicle’s
posterior camshaft broke instantly and the motor got
imbalanced. The loads outweighed the it and so, it cut into a
ditch. The loads still outweighed the vehicle such that it crashed
on the earth by. His God so lived that he had fled out through
the side window but had received a mammoth blow on his thigh
from a concrete. There he had sprawled and howled for help.
This same accident occurred to him when he still rode in
a small car. He had attended a marriage ceremony with his wife
on a Saturday morning long time ago. The gifts that were
presented to the newly married couples were so many that they
could not have all been parked into the small luxury car they
had chartered. People had reasoned that it was better to come
back for the loads the next day with a suitable vehicle but the
cobbler’s friend had volunteered to convey most of the loads
with his car since he had only one passenger. They agreed on
his idea and his car was loaded with the goods. He was lucky
enough not to have being on a busy lane when his camshaft
broke down. Neither he was injured nor did his wife but his
little taxi bore it all…
He resorted to yam business. The business had kept him
moving on until the latest accident occurred to him. He was
helpless – sprawling and groaning. The few people who had
come by ascribed him to be one of those drivers who drank out
of their spirits. They had later found out that he was bearing a
cavernous wound. He was taken to the nearest health center.
This was happening between 9 and 10 o ‘clock pm.
He was lucky enough only to have had a fracture. Nobody had
to talk about the wasted yams…

The cobbler angrily dials his friend’s number again.

Only then his friend had told him all that had happened. An
appointment was agreed on. The cobbler was supposed to visit
him in the health center of which location had been described
to him. The cobbler was once more coming back to life. He set
out for the health center so early on Tuesday morning.
Looking around for the health center he had ran into a
hawker who delayed him with cries and causes…
Finally, he gets to the place. He goes to one who is supposed to
be a receptionist and stated the purpose of his visit. The
receptionist directed him to the ward zones. There was nothing
else the cobbler cared to attend to. A child had almost collided
with him while crying to him to help her sick mother with some
donations. He had evasively looked away like he was not being
perturbed…
“It’s Aham!” his friend cries on his arrival. The cobbler grins,
then proceeds to sit on a plastic chair that was free. He waves
at his friend’s wife.
“How is your health?” he asked in a ‘for granted manner’ like
he had never felt sick.
“You could not even visit your sick friend with a gift. Too poor!”
his friend cries in the bed. The cobbler begins to blink unusually.
His friend has a point for sure! How could he even come like
one who is going to see a debtor?
“I thought you were so sick – so sick that you may have no
appetite.” He defended. His friend’s wife cast a discourteous
look at him for a moment.
“Are you so inconsiderate that you could not even buy me
oranges? What manner of friend are you with no act of love?”
“Friends as I know are people who make out time to come and
stay by you. So I have done. Showing some love does not just
imply that you have to bring heaven and earth as gifts. Gift
without cheers are as bad as junks.” His friend gazed into his
face. ‘What does he mean?’ he thought with irritation. He turns
to his wife saying:
“This man here is going to pay my hospital bills. As you see
him now, he has a lot of money. Bless the lord for he has finally
come. His wife looks at the cobbler in a matter of realistic
manner.
“I had met him at T-Junction one afternoon when it was raining
heavily. He thought I was helpless or stranded and so he
showed concern by buying me a shot of alcohol so that I was
gingered up against the cold. Then, I began to tell him about
my journey from a farmer’s place. He asked me what I had
gone to the farmer’s place for – the reason must be so tangible.
I went on to tell him that I had gone to check on the farmer for
yams but it appeared he was out of yams and I had
disappointedly moved out of his place. Unfortunately, as I was
on my way to my place, the rain started dropping. I managed
to aim at reaching T-Junction then, wait for the heavy rain to
subdue. This man here had grinned just as he grins now after
my long story. When the rain had subdued and I was ready to
leave, he called me back and requested for my mobile number.
It was not strange though. we had just met and related nicely
and so there was supposed not to be a big deal in exchanging
our numbers.
After about several weeks had gone by, he called me on the
phone asking me where I was at the moment. Luckily enough,
I was around T-Junction, so I told him. He had invited me to
meet with him at the bar we had met previously. I had to drive
to the place. He had welcomed me with his usual grin and had
offered me a shot. He thought I was just an ordinary trader of
yams or a family man who needed yams so urgently for a
ceremonial purpose. I had to surprise him by ordering for the
best wine around and two separate plates of rich rice – chicken
and turkey pugnacious about position. I was so hungry that I
had to do so. He was so astonished and speechless. After we
had emptied the plates of foods, I told him that I collectively
bought yams in bulk directly from various farmers (city
farmers) who only produced few due to the insufficiency of
lands.
He had inquired to know how much I bought the yams. I
thought it was just normal to tell him so I went ahead to tell that
I bought the yams in hundreds not in tens – one hundred yams
cost me eighty thousand. And at the end of the day, I was able
to secure a thousand yams which is just a trip for my little van.
That implied that one thousand yams cost me eight hundred
thousand naira and I ended up selling the yams at hundred naira
for each and at last credited the sum of two hundred thousand
naira. He had nodded for a long moment before had finally
revealed to me that his father is an abundant farmer that was
likely to produce more than ten thousand yams. I was shocked
at this revelation. He had went on to tell me that he could sell a
trip to me at the discount of three hundred thousand naira. I was
overjoyed, thought I had finally come to hit a tremendous
fortune. I regretted the wasted years I had invested so much just
to make a gain of two hundred thousand naira. With no delay,
we had reached an agreement – to journey to his village which
he said the distance was no joke. He had first set out to arrange
the yams and directed me to stop at Esese Junction the last
place I knew before the village. I had filled up my Gas tank for
the long journey knowing too well that what it could cost me
to get the yams was shit when compared with what I was likely
to gain.
Things had gone well with me until misfortune had come my
way… Aaah!” he heaved a sigh and tilted down his head.
“You narrated your story like you are the only person who had
met misfortune. If you are guaranteed to go on with your story,
it could turn to a novel.” The cobbler bellyached. His friend
perplexedly stared at him.
“How do you mean?” He probed the cobbler.
“What I mean in quintessence is that I have also had an
unpleasant encounter.”
“May we hear your own story? It seems like today is a day of
sprite tales.” His friend said. The cobbler looked apathetically
at him.
“Sprite Tales?” he questioned.
“Yes, sprite tales – because we still live to tell them.” His friend
fortified. He seems to be someone who is not so much
perturbed by factual things.
“You should remember that I did tell you to come the next day
for the second trip… I had set out to wait for you at Esese as
you had instructed me to do. I waited from morning till noon
but there was no sign of you. I was not angry though – I had
reasoned that you may have met a challenge. I had to go home
and wait till the next day came. I had dialed your number but
there was no response from you so, I became angry. To cut the
story short, I had set out for the city last week Friday so I could
try to locate you. Only for me to take a little nap in the bus,
some unusual cowboys had stopped our driver with their rude
commands. I thought the driver was the crazy one who had
faulted them not knowing that the hostile implementation was
on everyone. Don’t forget that I was with my money – you
know how much I mean. I thought I could just outsmart those
insolent kids and get away but they had went after me with their
rapid feet. Their fat clubs could have censored me down if
providence had not come my way. I was later getting so worn-
out for it had remotely been long I engaged myself in a wild
race. My heart was almost torn apart! I gave up my treasured
bag and fled for my life which is dearest. Those villains still
came after me after I dropped my treasured bag to them. What
else had they wanted from me? I was so lucky to go by a river
side and employed the sinking game for I knew they would not
dare playing it with me…”
His friend was already racking with laughter. The cobbler
looked so perplexed. Even the wife giggled. What was so funny
about his unpleasant happenstance? Shouldn’t they have been
compassionate?
“So, this is your wife though.” The cobbler nodded transitorily.
His friend ceased the laughter to review the question. ‘Why did
he say so?’
“How do you mean? Have the two of you met before?”
The cobbler grinned briefly before he responded:
“Not at all! You see, I said so because this is the first time I am
seeing her.” His friend stared at the wife who returned a faithful
gaze. He nodded to his friend.
“No wonder – you were so gibberish about my disappointment.
I see you are totally out of money.” The cobbler submissively
nodded. In fact that is why he has come.
“How do we go about the business after you must been
discharged?” he asked cleverly.
His friend sits up on the bed still tilting his head.
“I’m afraid our business is going to have no chance of survival.
Checking the cost of damage on my vehicle, I think it is
approximately worth more than six hundred thousand naira but
I only have two hundred and thirty thousand naira in my
account – that’s where the problem rests. And I feel it will not
be wise – trying to mechanize the vehicle because its somber
faults would never seem to end. So, I think it is better to go for
a new one.” The cobbler just gazed at him. ‘Money is the key
to itself.’
“What must we do?” he asked rhetorically as a nurse barges
into the ward. He cast a licentious look at her jagged breasts.
Even through the loose uniform on her body, he still was able
to figure out her butt which he thought must be performing a
precarious duty as she walked. He thought for a while if it could
be so realistic to suddenly fall sick and so his membrane may
be gratified by the erogenous Aunty.
He felt green for his friend who was being medicated by the
homeopathic cherub. He felt he was being cut off.
“What do we do?” He idly asked. No one responded to his
question. He was just blacked out!
“Pauline… Paul… Paul!” He persistently tried to extort
attentions.
“Oga, your brother is being medically attended to. Can’t you
be considerate?” The nurse vulgarly said to him.
‘Was it the erogenous cherub who just rebuked me in that
manner? Should I just keep quiet? No’
“Hey! You are not supposed to refer to people in that manner
okay? You can’t just speak anyhow to people you don’t even
know. I thought you were a responsible nurse.” He finally let
out. His friend and wife glared at him while the nurse threw a
discourteous look at him in a way that her eyeballs wobbled
passively. Her obnoxious look only changed to an ironical
smile when she looked at his shoes and the old jacket he put on.
She shook her head sarcastically, smiling at him.
“I am sorry Mr. - honorable- pauper.” She sarcastically referred
to him. He nodded and waved at her, smiling.
“No worries. I was just tempted to lose my temper. You guys
are really hard working. I must make sure to come here any day
I may not feel alright… well done!” He kept giggling. He felt
his lips and swayed his legs nodding and looking around.
“Really? As the master, you must be regularly tempered by
your group of panhandlers who would not allow you to make
enough money.” The nurse replied.
“Exactly!! As if you know, my wives will never stop worrying
me for this and that about pans and stove.” The cobbler
misinterpreted. This time, he wobbled his legs frantically and
laughed as well.
The nurse gazed at his helpless self. ‘He really did not know
the meaning of panhandlers? – Beggars! She gathered her
medical kits to take her leave.
“What were you saying?” His friend finally referred to him.
The cobbler was absent-minded. He did not even know that he
was being spoken to.
“Are you okay?” his friend came again.
“How do you mean?” the cobbler finally uttered.
“You were asking me about what to do. I want to know what
you mean by that.”
“That? Aaah! Let me think… I really don’t know what we
should do.”
“I will be discharged on Friday. So, we’ll meet on next week
Wednesday at the usual spot to discuss our problems because I
will need to take a long period to rest. No matter how hospitable
a hospital may be, it would still not be more hospitable than a
home.
“Are you writing a poem?” the cobbler clowned.
“So be it as you have said. Let your Wednesday remain the
same. May accident not come to disrupt your trip again?” He
grinned, making up to stand.
“How do see the idea of paying my hospital bill?” his friend
teased. The cobbler slacked his lips after he had stopped on the
way.
“Not good. Let me be on my way?” he said and left.
“Why do you look in such manner?” Pauline asks his
wife. His wife was looking offensively.
“I’m not okay with that friend of yours. He is so irresponsible.
How could a normal friend have visited you in sick bed without
even a water? All he could do was to come swinging his hand
like one who is on parade. Next was to laugh stupidly at the
nurse and finally, he left in an uncharitable manner. Do you
think he is normal?”
“Some people are born that way. You can’t force them to be so
humane. I have always endured the bitter leaf knowing it would
give me enough satisfaction with its rancorous taste.”
“He is a kind of friend that would get rid of your sight and rob
you of your chances. He is ready to stab you in the back and
smile at your tears.” His wife maintained.
“I have also met with people from various gaits of life and I
know their correctives.” Pauline persisted.

Ever since Anselm learnt that a pistachio existed beyond

the pond, he has always being on the tree licking the nuts. The
pistachio was serving him a great purpose.
It was greed that inspired him to search for more pistachios
down the bushes. As he was going deeper into the bush in
which all kinds of vices are engineered various, tension clung
to him like a monster. He thought whether it was clever to run
back when it is not too late but greed still inspired him to move
on. What if the pistachio was nearby? He would just lose it to
fear. He made up his mind to go a bit further, then come back
if there is no pistachio.
As he is tip toeing, words of prayer are silently ringing through
his lips. Goosebumps all over his body.
He stops to take a look at a heap of dead grasses which may
have looked like a squatting demon. It is no demon! But the
whole place is quiet. He looks behind but sees only bushes. The
pathway he had made is as narrow as a gap between two fingers.
Around the heap of dead grasses are shoeprints. Someone has
been there before. He looks out ahead to see if there is a
pathway. A narrow pathway as well!
He picks a rod that was lying close to the shoeprints. His hand
trembles. He does not know why he is doing this. He pokes the
heap and jumps back. His lips tightly drawn up with tension.
His left fist on his chest. He moves forward, then pokes the
heap again but nothing still responded.
He finally rips of the dead grasses and a huge bag was exposed
– it is so big that a ten year old boy can be hidden inside. His
heart pounds like a thud on a bass drum. He persistently
approached the bag and zipped it open and he saw too many
clement isongs and his fellow. His eyes budged with shock.
How could there be so many clement isongs in such a big bag.
Be it heavy or unlettable, it must go away with him. He must
not be too weak to obtain his blessings. He looked around to be
sure no one was around. Seeing no body, he discharged all his
might and took the bag off the ground. Getting close to the pond,
he dropped it down and stretched his muscles. He left the bag
to quickly check if anyone was coming that way. Everything
seemed like a dream. There was not even a single being around.
He crazed his feet toward the bag. With all his might again, he
lifted it. His back was as hutched as a hybrid.
He never believed he could make it to his room with the heavy
bag. He was expecting a loud voice to halt him with one threat
or another.
He bolts the door then, threw himself up in enthusiasm.
Imageries full in his head. Now he is equivalent to the money
wigs. Here he has come. He goes to the bag and zips it open.
He plunges his both hands in it and exhumed the staked notes.
He rips the tape off then begins to toss the notes. He feels their
scent…

“Anselm! What’s wrong with you? What are you still

doing inside? This is not our game.” The cobbler whispers
through the latter’s door. He had tip toed into the compound
but did not see Anselm standing as before.
“Come in.” the latter whispers as he opens the door.
‘Has he gone crazy?’ The cobbler frowned. He still has to obey
the faggot. He goes into the room.
“It’s time you stop hiding from the landlady.” The boy happily
whispered.
‘What is he saying? Has he got a new plan?’ The cobbler
thought. His hands akimbo.
“What plan have I got for the landlady?” The boy happily
whispered.
‘What is he saying? Has he got a new plan?’ The cobbler
thought. His hands akimbo.
“What plan have you made?” The cobbler grinned at his dark
face. The boy quietly moved over to the bag and dragged it to
the confused one. With the aid of his cheap torch, he threw light
on the open bag and what followed were the bulging eyes of
the cobbler. The fellow covered his lips with his palm and
stepped back.
“Where did you get this from?” He cleverly asked.
“In the bushes beyond the pond.” The boy happily revealed.
The cobbler looks at the roof with fury. ‘This shithead has
finally hit the jackpot. But I must get rid of him. He is too little
for this heavy fortune.’
“Do you know what you have just done?” He put up.
The boy tremors with tension.
“What?” He quickly asked.
“You must never cease to be grateful for this revelation. It’s
just that people use big amount of money like this to attract
victims for their rituals – the one that will earn them boundless
flow of money because not only the victim will be victimized
but also, many souls of the many people that must be offered
the stolen money. Do you know that you have stolen and that
God will be angry with your soul?”
‘What nonsense is this fellow talking about after I have
suffered to get this blessing?’ The lad thought.
“I’ll advise you to take the money back to where you have
stolen it. The charm of the rituals may not work against you
since you have not spent the money. You will be pardoned since
it’s your first time but if you go back for the second time, the
charm must not miss its way to you. I can escort you to the
place early in the morning just for security purpose…”
“No! You think you are so clever to deceive me?!” Anselm said
out loud.
“Look at this kid. Do you want to die? Do you not wish to
become a better person in future? See, God created you for a
purpose and that purpose you must not counter else, you will
burn to ashes in hell. I see you as an ambitious child. Do not
lose your destiny because of few money?”
“You should be asking me for some money instead of trying to
cuckold me. How much do want?”
“How dare you insult me with your black tongue rude kid? You
insulted me just because of fake money? The money you stole
– the money you did not work for. You are a thief!”
“Who told you that I did not make the money? Do you know
what it took me to bring them down here? You should be the
fugitive criminal who is trying to take advantage of my
immaturity. You are so criminal minded not to have
acknowledged me for that fact that I let you into my room just
to see what I have made. Are you so wicked that you can’t even
appreciate my act of generosity? You are the thief instead! You
had made away with my fifty naira and deceived me to believe
that I had taken it without remembering and you felt I could not
find out. That is why I doubt you had given me the exact
amount the principal had given you to give me. You are the
thief!!” the cobbler angrily hoisted his hand up to deal the kid
a colossal blow…
“Hit me and I will shout so that you are exposed! You be the
hitter and I will be the crier. And I hope you are aware that in a
settlement of dispute, only the crier is listened to. Do you know
why it is so? – Pity! That is why tears are mightier than knocks.”
The cobbler looked with astonishment. ‘How could this
dummy have become so clever to make good quotes?’ he felt
so ashamed. He dropped to his knees and pleaded with the lad
for forgiveness.
“Child, I was so cruel. Forgive me after you have learnt my
games.” He figuratively stated. The boy looked with pity at this
elderly person that was never supposed to kneel before him –
it was a taboo!
“Please get up. You should not have knelt before me. You are
forgiven.”
“Thank you my brother even though you are supposed to be my
son.” The cobbler tolerantly said.
“Get up so I can give part of the money.’’ The boy proudly said.
The cobbler gets up on his feet with an eccentric look. ‘This
bastard must pay for what he has done. I will so revenge on him
that he may not be privileged with the teeth which he could
have used to feed on junks. I am the game master here.’ He
grins at the lad saying:
“You have always being the coolest kid though. Forgiveness is
Blessing. But it is quite unfortunate that I won’t take the money.”
He waved at the lad who looked disappointedly at him.
“My best advice for you is to be careful. When you have lots
of money, it drives you crazy. You become extravagant. I will
advise you as my own little brother to remain here. Do not
suddenly go to live a luxurious life out there so that people may
not begin ton suspect you. They would be wondering how you
have become prosperous all of a sudden. If I were you, I would
better not let people know that I have so much money, I will
still be going to the workshop, I will still hide here and I will
not spend more than five thousand naira a day… I must be the
only person that knows your status. The mind is a bag,
everyone bears his own. Heed to my warning.”
“You would not take the money?” The boy disappointedly
probes. The cobbler looks dimly at him.
“Do me a favor.” He quietly undertones.
“What?” the lad curiously probes. He was looking around for
what the favor would be.
“Take me to my room – you know how I mean?”
“Sure.” The boy replies as he drops a parcel on the floor. He
reaches the door to unbolt it but stops to address the cobbler as
he used to do afore in familiar way.
“Uncle, thanks for the advice. Just now, I remember how you
have always beefed me with them. What you said is true. I will
listen to your advices even if it is going to be the last rectitude
I will owe you. I will live like I really have made nothing. And
this place shall remain my home.” The cobbler grins and nods
momentarily. Casting an awestruck look, he says to the boy:
“I did not mean that you should remain here for ages. Only that
you have to slowly move out. Think about it – if you move out
too soon, the old one will be suspicious and the principal must
try to find you. Only then people will begin to look at you even
though they may be living now like they don’t really see you.
Once your light glitters, they will start coming your way with
jealousy and with the mood of annexation.”
Anselm slowly nodded with understanding. ‘This fellow still
has a point though.’
They stepped outside – the cobbler tip-toing, and the boy
standing at alert.

“Time flies. Was it not just like yesterday I had asked you
to meet me here?” Pauline refers to the cobbler who is seated
opposite to him, folding his arms. He only stares at the label
stuck on the green bottle of spirits.
“We are here to reason about our predicament. You don’t have
to stare that way like a robot.” His friend presses on. He has
already halved the spirits in the bottle. The cobbler looks up
with a giggle.
“We don’t have to go 360 degrees jogging around and round
our problem. What we are looking for in the roof is just before
our toes but where the problem seems to lay is on you.”
“I don’t understand. How can the problem be on me?”
“Are you ready to do anything for money?”
“Well, the two things I can’t do for money is ritual and bank
robbery.” His friend says as he drops the cup on the table.
“You are off the point then.” The cobbler returns with a grin.
He reaches out his hand for the cup. His friend still gazed
blankly at him. ‘What does he mean?’
“There’s a boomerang kid who lives in my place. The lad had
met so much money on his way beyond the pond – I do not
even know what had taken him to such place. The place I had
never thought of entering. The kid has grown so selfish ever
since he stole the big money. He does not even offer me a
greeting – not even the kind of greeting uttered out by a soured
mouth. I should have forced the money out of his hands but he
has a sharp tongue that could raise a tremendous alarm. I also
should have thought about forgetting the yam business if I had
made away with the money but a second thought told me that
if I could still use the money to continue the yam business, I
might never ever go bankrupted again. Think about it. If you
will be able to take such money, you will never become
destitute again. Your pretty wife would never leave you for a
richer man. You will drive sleek cars. Servants will always
await your orders. A clothe becomes too old on your body for
a day. And you may have the chance to beget good children
because money flushes off blockages as well. Think about it.
Only a single snort will take us to the sky. The little one is
trying to bite more than he can chew – he will only waste the
money with no drive…”
“How do you suggest that we may take the money from the
kid?” Pauline anxiously interrupts. The cobbler viciously grins.
“I love your drive old boy.” He let out a riotous laughter. His
friend begins to smile back at him.
“We can take the money right in the presence of the child and
he may never know.”
“How?”
The cobbler laughed hilariously at the question. He swigged
some spirits into his lungs. He dropped the cup in a careless
manner then, looked up at his friend.
“Can’t you see this bottle has gone dry? Tell those shams to
bring another one. Man shall not go out of drink but continue
to kiss the gourd – just one more bottle and we’re out of here.
In case you may be having half the price, don’t worry – we’ll
come buy the shop next week.” His friend turns to the bar
attenders:
“Hey! Get me a bottle of whisky.” He returns to his friend.
“That’s how we roll.” The cobbler blabbers.
“How can we take the money from the boy…?”
“Don’t be a dullard in the occasion of plans…” the cobbler
looks up to his friend, “… have you come across the ‘sleeping
powder’ before?” he continues. His friend willies his head
innocently.
“No wonder you have obdurate eyes. The ‘sleeping powder’ is
more powerful than ‘sleeping pills’ – the one you may know. It
is much powerful than ‘sleeping pills’ in the sense that it
contacts directly with eyes – the nap organ. Once it is blown at
someone’s eyes, he may not wake even on the next day. He is
so blacked out that a bomb may blast, eagles may cry, and raped
virgins may scream but he would never wake. All we have to
do is to safely go into the child’s room and blow the stuff right
in his eyes and in no distant time, he would not know about the
happenings of the world…”
“How have you come to know about things like that?” Pauline
anxiously asked. The cobbler grinned at him, his steamy eyes
still compatible with smiles.
“I come from the village.” He responded.
“So, you will travel to your village?
“Not at all.” The cobbler shook his head.
“How will…”
“I there is a specialist who hides behind the hills. I had once
being to his place the day a customer had concealed to me that
he needed to go to the hills so he could get rid of his tenacious
roommate and I opted to go with him so I could know the place
just in case the need may occur someday. I longed to know
where such a pestilential stuff was ruling in the city…
I have also tried my best convincing the boy to stay. I think we
should make our hit before he changes his idea on my advice.
I have a feeling that he would gradually change. So, we go for
the powder this evening so that before we may return, it is dark
and the right time to visit the farm boy. We need not to waste
time because we don’t know what tomorrow brings. The
journey to the hills will take about an hour. Waiting for the
specialist will take us about fifty minutes then, coming back
will also take us about an hour. We are supposed to live for the
hills by 5:30pm.”
Pauline nodded momentarily.

It is seven o’clock – the appointed time for Anselm to

come outside and wait for the cobbler to return. What a harsh
task a fellow has prodded on another! He sneaks out of his
room and stands by. The cobbler does not show up after about
twenty minutes had gone by. He decided to go inside for a while
– he just could not plant himself on the ground waiting for an
insensitive fellow. About thirty minutes later, a quiet tap alerted
on his door. He knew it was the cobbler that has finally come
to find out why his refuting the usual game. He quietly opened
the door but there was a second fellow who maybe the cobblers
relative or someone from his village.
“Would you let us in please?” the cobbler whispered. Anselm
begins to quiver with tension. How could a stranger come in
with the former devil? He still doubted the cobbler was
completely changed.
The cobbler went in with the second man.
“Aaaah… Anselm, this is my cousin who is just coming from
the village. He arrived so late that we could not get something
to eat. We have come in case you may have a little food
though…”
“Anselm?” The second man interrupted. He looked amazingly
at the child.
“Yes, that’s his name. He is such a brave kid to live well even
without his parents.” The cobbler grinned so broadly that his
dark gums was exposed. His teeth were all tiny and brown.
The second man still amazingly lighted his torch and pointed it
on the lad’s face. The cobbler signaled him. But the cab driver
still wanted to verify something. Anselm’s eyes were so
reflected by the light that he could not see his face.
“Is it you, poor kid. Where have you being? Don’t you still
recognize me…?” the cab driver throws the light on his face so
he would be clearly seen. With that, Anselm shocks as he
recognizes his face. It is the cab driver who had rescued him
some years ago.
“What are you doing? It’s time!” The cobbler taps his friend.
“How terrible things must have been for you, poor kid. How
had you managed to run away from my care?” the cab driver
still interrogated. The cobbler was confused and disappointed.
He starts raging up.
“You think you can play a clever game on me and get away
with it after all we have gone through?! I am the master of
games and I would not allow you to scour shit in my eyes and
get away. You think I wouldn’t know your game? You now
want to cut me off so I don’t partake from the money isn’t it?”
he thrust his hand in his pocket and suddenly pulls out a wrap
and unveils it.
“I can also start with you because you are the foreign bone in
my throat. After all we have gone through, you now want to
turn me off and you think I am such a defenseless dummy?!”
He refers to the cab driver. Trying to blow off the powder to his
eyes, the cab driver defensively pushed him off the floor so
high that he thudded back on the floor and that was the end of
the cobbler.