we are able episode 39
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It was not quite long when school resumed for those who
went to school. Bode’s parent began to find it very difficult
sending him to school. Biodun and Laide had no problem at all.
The taxi was back to pick them up every day.
I sat down thinking deep. Will this year pass by gradually
without seeing my mother? I thought. How could life be so
cruel like this? I made up my mind to see my father once more.
I don’t think he would listen to me. He was already in deeper
thought than thinking of a way to get my mother out. He
would need money to bribe the Chief Warders and all the police
involved in extending my mother’s jail term.
I would do anything to see my mother again, but who could
help? My mind went straight to Moses, that young man who
helped me cross the express road on my graduation day two
years back. I remembered I had crammed his home address,
maybe I should just visit him and tell him everything, I
thought.
I had saved some amount of money, so I would not have
problem getting transport down there, though it was far from
Ejigbo where I resided. I wrote something on paper and
decided to pay him a visit.
Toyosi had taken some of her husband’s property to a market
to sell them off. She made the decision as a punitive measure
for her husband’s refusal to respond to her letter, in which she
told him to send her some money. Toyosi would tell her
husband that she was forced to do that when hunger came
knocking hard at the door of her stomach. Her husband would
be around the next month and she would return to him.
I wrote the address in my head down, the home address of
Moses who helped me cross the road that day:
Immaculate Moses; Plot 5, Estate Road, Lekki.
I also wrote all information down regarding how to get to the
exact place. I would be showing the paper to anyone I come
across so that I wouldn’t miss my way.
John had started working as a labourer for a factory. He would
help them offload some things from large trucks, just to make
sure that he kept body and soul together. At first, he said he
wasn’t going to do that, but when the hands of hunger began
to beckon on us, he had to do it.
That morning, I took off. I didn’t want to leave late, so that I
could return home early enough before any of Toyosi or John
would come. Bode had also gone to school too, though he was
still owing the school fee for the term.
I didn’t find it very difficult locating the place where Moses lived.
I met someone and showed him the letter. When he saw it, he
waved his head at me and spoke. I made signs to him to say
that I couldn’t speak. The man understood me quite well, so he
wrote it for me:
Immaculate Moses the son of that headmaster is no more living
in this place. They have relocated to their new house since last
six months
Where is their new house? I wrote back.
It is in Festac, but I don’t know the address
I bowed down to thank the man as I began to depart. It was
still 12pm then, so I had plenty of time, I thought. Lekki was a
very beautiful place I didn’t want to leave. I roamed the streets
and most of the time got tapped by people to tell me that I
should leave the road. Many car owners had peeped out of
their windows to ail insults at me, but I was not bothered since
I didn’t hear a thing.
At last, around 4pm I began to make back for my home. I
knew where to get the right buses, so I did, but I was the only
person in the bus. For some times, I remained the only one as
the bus conductor kept shouting to call in passengers.
Soon, the bus was half-filled. I began to doze off as the air blew
its cool on me.
When I realized myself again, I was kneeling beside a traditional
man dressed like a cultist. I was carrying a big calabash. Five
other people were kneeling down too, with calabashes on their
head. I had had about money ritual before, so I guessed that
was what we were there for.
I couldn’t think at all. I was just looking at them like a zombie.
The man took turn to ask each victim some questions one after
the other, which I perceived they were answering. They fell
down dead as soon as they had answered those questions.
I was still on my knees when they brought a young boy in.
They made him kneel down too. His face seemed familiar. Yes!
He was one of the bullies who sneaked to my school to torture
us. He was attending a school for normal people in Ejigbo. It
was just a fence that was demarcating us. His name was
Austin.
Austin had even succeeded in raping some of our girls. When
he attempted To Molest me back then, I caught him aback,
grabbing him by the neck. I pushed him away and ran. Austin
had been expelled from his school the day he raped a blind girl
called Amina. Amina was the most gentle girl back then. Austin
crept to our school through the hole they had drilled into the
wall. Amina, who was walking towards the toilet with her
walking stick, was gripped by Austin. She was raped to
unconsciousness.
Austin was caught by some of the deaf people in my school,
then he was expelled.
The kidnappers turned around to face me first since I was the
one who was here before Austin. They began to shake a gourd
over my head. I didn’t hear a sound, but I knew it was making
a sound because mother had told me about it while we were
watching a Yoruba Nollywood movies many years ago. She
had told me that people could be used for money rituals but I
laughed over it. Now I would be a sample, perhaps a
scapegoat.
My heart beat fast but I didn’t move since my external organs
were all numb. They were talking to me, but I was speechless.
Following the movement of their lips, I knew what they wanted
—my name. Everything in me was willing to tell them my
name, but how would I do it? I tried and tried to voice it out
through my mouth, despite the fact that I knew I couldn’t do it.
It didn’t just work, then I put my hand to use. They were
confused with the way I gesticulated, but it gave them the clue
that I was deaf and dumb.
“Speak,” they said in their dialect which I understood by lip-
reading. They gave up.
The kidnappers turned to Austin who was looking directly at
me. He was in school uniform, perhaps he was just returning
from school when he was kidnapped. Austin fastened his
eyeballs on me to the extent that they suspected that we knew
each other. They asked him if he knew me and he nodded his
head in the affirmative.
“Ki ni oruko e?” they asked him and I understood by watching
their lips. I knew that they were asking for my name from
Austin. The boy didn’t hesitate before saying, “Rosa Rosa!” My
eyes were fixed at his lips and I knew he was pronouncing my
nickname and not my real name. I was bitter because I wished
he would pronounce my real name—the spell was really on
me. Only my close friends in school would know me as Rose
and not an intruder like him.
The men smiled and stood before me, shouting my nickname.
They touched my head with the local timbrel in form of a long
gourd and chorused my nickname, but nothing happened to
me.
They were surprised.
They went back to Austin and asked for his name. He easily
told them his name and they put the gourd over his head. He
fell flat and passed on. They laughed–a wicked laughter.
They came back to me and recited my nickname over again. I
was unmoved. They were contemplating on setting me free,
but one of them said they should ask me for my name again,
perhaps I was pretending that I was dumb earlier. They asked
me in both English and Yoruba, but I couldn’t respond, though
I made the sign language to them as a reply.
They sweated. I wondered why they couldn’t slaughter me
directly with a knife, perhaps that would not produce the kind
of money they wanted, I thought. All my spirit wanted to tell
them what my name was and I just desired to speak at once,
but I couldn’t. They were amazed when they saw tears
flowing. They asked me why I was weeping. I perceived what
they asked and waved my hand over my mouth to show my
willingness to speak.
After trying several times to speak without success, they gave
up on me, but I still had the urge to say my name. I shook my
fingers in a way to show that I needed a pen to write my
name. They understood me. I remembered I had a pen with
me earlier into which my name was already written on a rolled
paper. I scrambled for the biro in my pocket with my left hand
but couldn’t find it. I swapped the hand I was using to carry the
big calabash from the right to the left so that I could use the
right hand to search my right pocket now. I did but didn’t feel
the biro there. Then I pointed towards Austin who was lying
lifeless beside his bag. They understood me.
Hastily, they ransacked his bag and came up with a pen and a
paper. I would now write down my name and then, they
would call it and I would fall dead. I knew I would fall dead but I
couldn’t just control my desire for death at that moment.
I held the pen and scribbled something into the paper. The ink
wasn’t flowing. I tried hard but it wouldn’t just flow. The men
were scared. They ordered me to leave immediately, leading
me through a path. I had to find my way home.
It was already too late for me, so the main gate of our house
had been shut. Toyosi and John didn’t even care about my
whereabouts. They were sleeping soundly in the house
already. I hit the gate hard for minutes. It was Taiba and Mrs
Omotayo who came to open it for me. The latter turned
around and left when she saw me; only Taiba remained. I
shook with shock as the horror of that day came rocking my
brain again.
It was not quite long when school resumed for those who
went to school. Bode’s parent began to find it very difficult
sending him to school. Biodun and Laide had no problem at all.
The taxi was back to pick them up every day.
I sat down thinking deep. Will this year pass by gradually
without seeing my mother? I thought. How could life be so
cruel like this? I made up my mind to see my father once more.
I don’t think he would listen to me. He was already in deeper
thought than thinking of a way to get my mother out. He
would need money to bribe the Chief Warders and all the police
involved in extending my mother’s jail term.
I would do anything to see my mother again, but who could
help? My mind went straight to Moses, that young man who
helped me cross the express road on my graduation day two
years back. I remembered I had crammed his home address,
maybe I should just visit him and tell him everything, I
thought.
I had saved some amount of money, so I would not have
problem getting transport down there, though it was far from
Ejigbo where I resided. I wrote something on paper and
decided to pay him a visit.
Toyosi had taken some of her husband’s property to a market
to sell them off. She made the decision as a punitive measure
for her husband’s refusal to respond to her letter, in which she
told him to send her some money. Toyosi would tell her
husband that she was forced to do that when hunger came
knocking hard at the door of her stomach. Her husband would
be around the next month and she would return to him.
I wrote the address in my head down, the home address of
Moses who helped me cross the road that day:
Immaculate Moses; Plot 5, Estate Road, Lekki.
I also wrote all information down regarding how to get to the
exact place. I would be showing the paper to anyone I come
across so that I wouldn’t miss my way.
John had started working as a labourer for a factory. He would
help them offload some things from large trucks, just to make
sure that he kept body and soul together. At first, he said he
wasn’t going to do that, but when the hands of hunger began
to beckon on us, he had to do it.
That morning, I took off. I didn’t want to leave late, so that I
could return home early enough before any of Toyosi or John
would come. Bode had also gone to school too, though he was
still owing the school fee for the term.
I didn’t find it very difficult locating the place where Moses lived.
I met someone and showed him the letter. When he saw it, he
waved his head at me and spoke. I made signs to him to say
that I couldn’t speak. The man understood me quite well, so he
wrote it for me:
Immaculate Moses the son of that headmaster is no more living
in this place. They have relocated to their new house since last
six months
Where is their new house? I wrote back.
It is in Festac, but I don’t know the address
I bowed down to thank the man as I began to depart. It was
still 12pm then, so I had plenty of time, I thought. Lekki was a
very beautiful place I didn’t want to leave. I roamed the streets
and most of the time got tapped by people to tell me that I
should leave the road. Many car owners had peeped out of
their windows to ail insults at me, but I was not bothered since
I didn’t hear a thing.
At last, around 4pm I began to make back for my home. I
knew where to get the right buses, so I did, but I was the only
person in the bus. For some times, I remained the only one as
the bus conductor kept shouting to call in passengers.
Soon, the bus was half-filled. I began to doze off as the air blew
its cool on me.
When I realized myself again, I was kneeling beside a traditional
man dressed like a cultist. I was carrying a big calabash. Five
other people were kneeling down too, with calabashes on their
head. I had had about money ritual before, so I guessed that
was what we were there for.
I couldn’t think at all. I was just looking at them like a zombie.
The man took turn to ask each victim some questions one after
the other, which I perceived they were answering. They fell
down dead as soon as they had answered those questions.
I was still on my knees when they brought a young boy in.
They made him kneel down too. His face seemed familiar. Yes!
He was one of the bullies who sneaked to my school to torture
us. He was attending a school for normal people in Ejigbo. It
was just a fence that was demarcating us. His name was
Austin.
Austin had even succeeded in raping some of our girls. When
he attempted To Molest me back then, I caught him aback,
grabbing him by the neck. I pushed him away and ran. Austin
had been expelled from his school the day he raped a blind girl
called Amina. Amina was the most gentle girl back then. Austin
crept to our school through the hole they had drilled into the
wall. Amina, who was walking towards the toilet with her
walking stick, was gripped by Austin. She was raped to
unconsciousness.
Austin was caught by some of the deaf people in my school,
then he was expelled.
The kidnappers turned around to face me first since I was the
one who was here before Austin. They began to shake a gourd
over my head. I didn’t hear a sound, but I knew it was making
a sound because mother had told me about it while we were
watching a Yoruba Nollywood movies many years ago. She
had told me that people could be used for money rituals but I
laughed over it. Now I would be a sample, perhaps a
scapegoat.
My heart beat fast but I didn’t move since my external organs
were all numb. They were talking to me, but I was speechless.
Following the movement of their lips, I knew what they wanted
—my name. Everything in me was willing to tell them my
name, but how would I do it? I tried and tried to voice it out
through my mouth, despite the fact that I knew I couldn’t do it.
It didn’t just work, then I put my hand to use. They were
confused with the way I gesticulated, but it gave them the clue
that I was deaf and dumb.
“Speak,” they said in their dialect which I understood by lip-
reading. They gave up.
The kidnappers turned to Austin who was looking directly at
me. He was in school uniform, perhaps he was just returning
from school when he was kidnapped. Austin fastened his
eyeballs on me to the extent that they suspected that we knew
each other. They asked him if he knew me and he nodded his
head in the affirmative.
“Ki ni oruko e?” they asked him and I understood by watching
their lips. I knew that they were asking for my name from
Austin. The boy didn’t hesitate before saying, “Rosa Rosa!” My
eyes were fixed at his lips and I knew he was pronouncing my
nickname and not my real name. I was bitter because I wished
he would pronounce my real name—the spell was really on
me. Only my close friends in school would know me as Rose
and not an intruder like him.
The men smiled and stood before me, shouting my nickname.
They touched my head with the local timbrel in form of a long
gourd and chorused my nickname, but nothing happened to
me.
They were surprised.
They went back to Austin and asked for his name. He easily
told them his name and they put the gourd over his head. He
fell flat and passed on. They laughed–a wicked laughter.
They came back to me and recited my nickname over again. I
was unmoved. They were contemplating on setting me free,
but one of them said they should ask me for my name again,
perhaps I was pretending that I was dumb earlier. They asked
me in both English and Yoruba, but I couldn’t respond, though
I made the sign language to them as a reply.
They sweated. I wondered why they couldn’t slaughter me
directly with a knife, perhaps that would not produce the kind
of money they wanted, I thought. All my spirit wanted to tell
them what my name was and I just desired to speak at once,
but I couldn’t. They were amazed when they saw tears
flowing. They asked me why I was weeping. I perceived what
they asked and waved my hand over my mouth to show my
willingness to speak.
After trying several times to speak without success, they gave
up on me, but I still had the urge to say my name. I shook my
fingers in a way to show that I needed a pen to write my
name. They understood me. I remembered I had a pen with
me earlier into which my name was already written on a rolled
paper. I scrambled for the biro in my pocket with my left hand
but couldn’t find it. I swapped the hand I was using to carry the
big calabash from the right to the left so that I could use the
right hand to search my right pocket now. I did but didn’t feel
the biro there. Then I pointed towards Austin who was lying
lifeless beside his bag. They understood me.
Hastily, they ransacked his bag and came up with a pen and a
paper. I would now write down my name and then, they
would call it and I would fall dead. I knew I would fall dead but I
couldn’t just control my desire for death at that moment.
I held the pen and scribbled something into the paper. The ink
wasn’t flowing. I tried hard but it wouldn’t just flow. The men
were scared. They ordered me to leave immediately, leading
me through a path. I had to find my way home.
It was already too late for me, so the main gate of our house
had been shut. Toyosi and John didn’t even care about my
whereabouts. They were sleeping soundly in the house
already. I hit the gate hard for minutes. It was Taiba and Mrs
Omotayo who came to open it for me. The latter turned
around and left when she saw me; only Taiba remained. I
shook with shock as the horror of that day came rocking my
brain again.
No comments