07:56 pm, September 6,
Kogi State.
The first most interesting thing since she'd arrived at the damn village happened to her today. She had been feeling bored, Taiwo had gone to visit a friend and it was too late for Lastborn to still be at their place and she'd slyly avoided the village children, not interested in talking to anyone. She'd been taking bored pictures with her digital camera but even with the camera's flash and her batterry-powered torch , the pictures still came out dark. There had been power outage since afternoon and Taiwo was not around to turn on the generator, much to her grandmother's disgruntlement. Also, there was nothing breathtaking worthy of being photographed, especially in this gloomy darkness.
So there she was, seated on a bench on the porch, armed against mosquitoes in a long sleeved T-shirt, long denim trousers, socks, and, of course, mosquito repellent. Gratefully, it was cold in the nights (although it was just early in September).
Bored, she went back to sit on the bench and munched on one of the boiled maize Grandma had given her before coming outside. Abado, the older woman had called it in Yoruba.
Everywhere was relatively quiet save for the deafening chirping of the unceremonious cricket choir and a house or two that had their generator on. Eniiyi was sure this deafening sounds, coupled with the blindness were going to kill her very soon, if nothing else would. It was a wonder the village children were not deaf and blind, having to squint and strain their eyes on black nights. Why, the poor girl had never been exposed to this ear-bleeding noises before, both the generator and the choir's. It made her wish she'd added earplugs to her luggage, Mommy did have a packet of them at home.
Through the murky darkness she could make out a large yellow eye staring at her and she jumped, it was making this most dreadful noise as it moved closer. She stood up from the bench, camera hanging from her neck, flashlight turned off, maize forgotten, scared.
'Grandma?' she whispered shakily, afraid the yellow-eyed monster would pinpoint her exact location with her voice. 'Grandma.' Her voice was a little louder now, nevertheless a whisper, and insistent. She fumbled blindly for the door handle, not daring to turn around to get it for fear of having herself at a disadvantage.
Just when she found the door handle, she started to hear voices and then the bark of a laughter coming from the side of the stealthily approaching monster and in surprise she took a closer look and realized, to her dismay, that she knew exactly what the yellow-eyed monster was. When the first wave of fear had creeped over her, she'd lost all rational reasoning. Because why else had she not realized that the monster was, in fact, an approaching motorcycle with yellow headlight? Maybe because she'd never seen one at night and in the dark before. She was not even sure she'd seen one up-close-and-personal. The dreadful noise was the sound of the engine.
Soon, as if to confirm it really was a motorcycle and not a monster, she started breathing in exhaust gas and she coughed, fanning away the invisible carbon monoxide.
And it was a wonder how the villagers hadn't died from air pollution.
The motorcycle — popularly called machine or ọ̀kadà by the people — had stopped in front of Grandma's compound, she realized. She turned on the torch and watched a tall man dismount the motorcycle and hand the motorcycle rider what she presumed to be transport fair. There was a little chat between them, and then the motorcycle moved off, leaving the choke of it's exhaust in it's wake. The tall man adjusted the strap of his oddly shaped bag over his shoulder and turned towards the porch, towards the light.
Even though knowing it was rude, Eniiyi raised the beam to the stranger's face, she had to know who was coming to her G.ma's house, the man immediately shaded his eyes with his free hand and squinted, but the girl had seen who it was.
'Uncle Felix!' She dropped the flashlight and her camera on the bench and rushed forward to jump into the startled man's arms. 'You've come to rescue me!'
♟️🍒♟️🍒♟️🍒
Of course, he hadn't come to rescue her, she found out later but didn't let herself to be miffed at this. After all, he was the best thing that'd happened to her in a while.
'Uncle Felix, you have no idea how glad I am to see you,' she said again, nibbling on one of the candies he'd brought her, she'd chosen to ignore her Mommy's warning about consuming sweet things before bed, she however promised herself to brush her teeth twice as hard tonight.
He'd also brought her cake of course, which was now safely ensconced in her room, although she knew no one was going to fight her over it.
'I know, right,' said Uncle Felix.
Grandma was just entering the sitting room, her form silhouetted against the bright fluorescent light. (Uncle Felix had turned the generator on for them) 'What is that I hear, Olúfẹ́mi? When did you become Felix?'
Uncle Felix smiled at his mother. 'Mother, she knows it's Femi but Felix has become our thing over the years.'
Mother looked indifferent about it. 'What will you have, Olufemi? You've travelled such a long way and must be very famished. We have àgbàdo*, still hot, and there's yam left over from lunch.'
'Mother, I'll have the yam, then the àgbàdo.'
'My son, you must be very hungry. Let me go and warm the yam and stew while you munch on the maize. Óyá, Eniiyi go and serve your uncle maize.'
Eniiyi didn't want to leave Uncle Felix but she knew it would be unwise to disobey her grandmother, so she stood up petulantly and went to the kitchen, Grandma behind her.
She came back with five big, succulent corns in a stainless steel plate and sat back down across her uncle.
'Why did you arrive so late? Where's your car? Did you know I was here before? What of Aunt Ekwy? And your children?' she bombarded him with questions.
Uncle Felix took his time munching on a maize and swallowing. Then he said, 'I arrived late because I left Lagos a little late, my car is at home, I was bringing it but then Lagos traffic saw to it that I didn't, so I returned it back home and made for the park and the bus I was in broke down on the way here, which contributed to my leaving Lagos late. Yes I knew you were here, my brother informed me last week Sunday when they arrived at Japan. My wife and children are fine and they send their regards.'
Eniiyi smiled, not sure what else to say. 'Are you sure you don't want to take me back with you, Uncle? I'll be good, I promise. Mommy said your house is full but you can always find space to accommodate me, right? And about food, I don't eat much.'
Femi laughed at the girl. His little niece could be funny sometimes, something she inherited from Eartha. But he could see that she was dead serious, so he cut his laugh short and sighed deeply. The mashed grains in his mouth seemed to want to go through the nose, he started to cough and gesticulate for a drink.
Eniiyi quickly ran to the refrigerator and got him a sealed bottle of Mr V. table water and he broke the seal and gulped down the content in torrents, finally satisfied, he placed the bottle firmly on the stool and coughed lightly.
'Uncle Felix, are you okay, now?'
'Yes, do not let me talk while eating, Eniiyi. I can't take you away from here because this is where your father and mother put you, so I can't just come and take you away, besides my house is already full. Ekwy's nieces and nephews from Abia have come for the holiday and they're six in number.'
'That's not fair, I'm your family, too!' she whined. Naturally, she wasn't a whiny person, but that was where circumstances put her now.
'Yes,' agreed Uncle Felix. 'Why do you hate this place so, anyways, you're doing okay here now.'
Eniiyi frowned. 'You don't understand, Uncle.' She sighed. 'Okay, forget I asked.'
Uncle Felix looked at her with pity.
The front door slowly pushed opened and Taiwo stepped in, shaking a little from the cold September night air outside.
He paused on seeing Uncle Felix and went down prostrate on the floor. 'Ah, ẹ̀gbọ́n, longest time, sir. Ẹ káàbọ̀ sir.'
'Taiye, Taiwo,' Femi hailed the young man in front of him. 'I was beginning to wonder where you'd gone when I didn't meet you here. Báwoni? How's life?'
'We thank God, sir.' Taiwo was beaming at Femi as he found a seat. One would think it was the joy of seeing Ọ̀gá's eldest son that made him look so goofy, but it was mainly because of the booty that was sure as eggs is eggs going to come his way. Neither of Mama Nurse's sons came to visit without bestowing him with a few thousands of naira.
'Uncle Femi, you're looking fresher, o. Auntie is really trying, o.'
Uncle Femi laughed in reply.
'Before nko?' Eniiyi said.
They all laughed at this.
'Excuse me, uncle, let me go and change.' He stood up to go, just as Grandma appeared in the lounge room with a steaming dish of yam and fried fish stew.
'Ehn ehn, so you have decided to spare us your time to come back, eh?'
Taiwo prostrated in greeting, looking guilty. 'Ẹ kúulé ma. Òjò ló rọ̀ lọ́ùń lójé kín pẹ́ mà.' He started to explain.
Mama Nurse had already dropped the dish on the stool in front of her son. She went toward her delinquent houseboy and took hold of both his ears. Although he loomed over her, she held the ears firmly and pulled them towards her, twisting them firmly.
'Yeee!' Taiwo cried and tried futilely to rescue his poor old organs from her.
Eniiyi winced, dully horrified and her uncle looked sorry for the boy.
'I should have started suspecting.' She finally let go of his suffered ears. Taiwo held the smarting organs tenderly in his hands, oh boy, were they going to be sore for long.
'I should have, when you started frequenting your "friends".' Grandma finger quoted. 'I should have known it's a girl! Ọmọ́táíyéwò, o tíń rìrìnkurùn! You've become a philander! You've started chasing after those skinny village girls, and I'm having none of it, you hear? I'll let you know that the same teeth a dog uses to play with its puppies is the one it uses to bite them.'
'Ah, Grandma, I swear, I was with Bobola, from the next village. And it was raining so heavily that I had to wait for it to wane.'
'Uh, if a child has as many clothes as an elder he can't have as many rags. Taiyewo, you can't decieve me.' Grandma smiled her strange smile and twisted his ear again. 'This delinquent, you won't be the death of me.'
'Grandma . . .'
'Gbénudákẹ́.' Grandma shut him up. 'You are aware that you've not grown past flogging?'
'Ah, Mother, ótitò, it's enough, ma. Please, for my sake, let him go.'
Grandma looked conflicted, like she had more punishment in mind for the boy but wanted to listen to her son's plea for him. 'Ọ̀rọ̀ ẹ, ó dí àbọ̀wábá, I'm not finished with you.' She snapped her fingers in his face and finally left him.
Taiwo, still holding his ears made slowing for the direction of the sleeping quarters, wearing the look of someone wronged, but Eniiyi was damned sure she saw him smile when he passed Grandma and Uncle Felix.
'Mother, so how's that woman? You know I've come mainly because of her.' Olufemi coughed a little and paused to drink water.
Eniiyi looked at him with rapt attention, interested in what he was talking about.
'Are they still keeping her at that place or they'll take her to the town?'
Mama Nurse glanced surreptitiously at the child in the room. 'Stop talking and eat. Eniiyi, óyá, time to sleep.'
Eniiyi blinked back at the old woman. What had she done now? 'But, Grandma . . .'
'Don't but me. Alele!'
Eniiyi stood up, grumbling and made for her room.
Who were they talking about and why were they so secretive about it?
The italicized English sentences are Yoruba proverbs, said in Yoruba, but overset into English for the convenience of the non-Yorubas.
*Maize; corn.
The one the main character mispronounced as abado.