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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
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
“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.