Tag: Fiction Young adult, Romance, historical
Yetunde recalled that fateful day
her father was said to have bidden the world farewell. She just returned from
school, alighting from a lorry returning to Kuti town from Igaolu village where
her school was located. She observed there was a huge crowd in front of her
home. Iya Toun, her father’s aunt, was selling akara. Yetunde thought there
were many customers. She grew confused when she saw that there was no more
akara on the counter, and those people seemed to be their face-me-I-face-you
neigbours and those from the next house; they stood, huddling together in a
mournful silence. Some people were sitting with their heads hanging limply like
withered plants beside Iya Toun whose face had already become ocean with tears.
Some of the neigbours started shaking their heads as they sighted the little Yetunde whose charming face was glaring with fear. She forced her way to where Iya Toun was sitting at the verandah and asked what the matter was.
“Nothing. Okay?” Iya Toun said after wiping her face with the end of her wrapper, and quickly forced a warm smile at her, “Go and drop your bag in the room. Your food is on the table.”
“Why are so many people here,” Yetunde asked curiously, “and why are you not selling your goods today? I saw tears on your face, Mama. Please tell me what the matter is …Where is Toun?” The last question heaved a lump in her throat. She thought something had happened to Toun, her female cousin, because she was a sickler.
“She is not back from school yet.” Iya Toun responded firmly, trying as much as she could to contain her sorrow, “Go inside, nothing has happened to anyone. Okay?”
Yetunde asked no more question throughout that day. She was expecting her Dad to come and pay her a visit on the next day which was Saturday. He would come to give her money, new storybook and clothes every weekend. She didn’t worry much. He might be too busy after all, she thought. She was hopeful to see him on the next Saturday, but he didn’t appear throughout the day.
“Mama, why is Daddy not coming to see me?” she once asked Iya Toun in a whiny voice.
“‘Oloju ede mi’, Daddy is too busy to come around.” Iya Toun responded gently, and pecked her on the forehead.
She wasn’t convinced yet. No matter how busy Dad could be, he couldn’t afford to miss his only precious daughter’s face for two whole weeks, she had assured herself.
Many weeks passed, she kept pestering Iya Toun to take her to Idenro where her father was residing. Iya Toun told her that he had travelled out of the country to buy her new clothes, jewelry and shoes. Yetunde’s heart leapt excitedly at the mention of those new surprises. After a year she could bear it no more. No one could satisfy her needs as much as her Dad. She soaked her pillow with tears all night. Sometimes, she would have bad dreams, seeing her Dad shedding tears and beckoning her to come and meet him, but she could not - there would be a deep pit between them. She had that same nightmare almost all night.
One day, after some months, she demanded the true story of her Dad’s sudden disappearance from Iya Toun. She had realized that her Dad would inform her if truly he had travelled in order to buy her gifts. When the woman wouldn’t yield, Yetunde held a sharp knife, aiming to stab herself in the stomach. It was that moment Iya Toun broke into tears and narrated all that happened to her.
She told her that her Dad had been mistakenly shot by armed robbers while going to work early in the morning.
“I knew it then!” Yetunde collapsed to her knees while boiling tears sprang out of her eyes. The bloodthirsty knife clattered on the floor, “I was suspicious that somebody died … I knew it. So it’s my Dad.” Her voice sank with the last word.
“I can’t let your generation vanish like this, Yetunde,” Iya Toun burst into tears as she cuddled her mournfully; they were almost drinking from each other’s tears as they both sniffed, “I can’t watch you die … I love you. Okay? I love you so much like my own daughter … I want you to take heart. You don’t need to go and join your both parents in heaven. I will try as much as I can to take care of you.”
Yetunde’s father was a primary school teacher during his lifetime. He was nicknamed ‘Fine Oyinbo Teacher’ by his pupils because of his fair skin and pointed nose. Yetunde was his only daughter and she had taken after her father with fair skin. Yetunde’s mother had died during childbirth when Yetunde was four years of age. Ever since then she had been staying with Iya Toun in Kuti town.
Yetunde had sworn that her father’s murderer and all his family must also be doomed by bullet of a gun. She had sworn for 41 nights with her Bible on her chest. She noted the day she started in her diary in order to be precise with the calculation. And she would burst into tears each day she read out from the diary all the promises her father had made to her.
The incident was about 8 years ago. It was just a few months ago Yetunde turned eighteen. Now she was standing along a dusty road that led to the stream, waiting for Temi, her best friend, who had promised to meet her on the way. It was New Year’s Eve. Kuti town in Abeokuta was teeming with new faces from across the town. Yetunde was holding a purple basin in her left hand, her right hand hanging on her hip. Her shapely, plump figure was nonetheless defined by the ankara wrapper and her white sleeveless blouse.
“Oh, my God, tomorrow is the the beginning of 1992,” she thought to herself, praying for all she wished to achieve in that year.
Her mind wandered back to her childhood when she would splash water with Temi and many boys at the stream. She couldn’t swim in the midst of boys again. She thought there was a veil blocking her eyes then. It was those times she was still in primary school, but now in SS2, looking forward to graduate in SS3. As an art student, she aspired to study mass communication in higher institution. She wondered how her dream would be fulfilled without her father. She wasn’t certain if Iya Toun would sponsor her education to university level.
In the midst of her thought, Yetunde observed a group of boys coming towards the stream. They soon walked closer with water barrels, kegs and paint containers. Four of them were boys from her neighbourhood and others were strangers. She found herself staring at one of the strange boys without knowing the reason why. She quickly controlled herself as she observed that the boy’s eyes was about to meet hers from the gathering. She briefly exchanged greetings with Jide, her childhood friend, and the three boys that lived right beside her house as they walked past her. She ignored those unfamiliar faces that seemed be to be admiring her look, including the one that just trapped her heart as a snare does to little rats. Yetunde’s pride was taller than Olumo rock. To those familiar boys, Yetunde’s beauty grew more every day like that of a rose planted by the river, and the strangers couldn’t resist her sight.
Yetunde could hear some of the boys hailing Jide as Oko iyawo (the bride’s groom) and wished to hear him protest against that. Jide was smiling and swaggering while they all kept glancing back at her. Jide was envied by his friends as they all believed he was more than friends with Yetunde who was one of the jewels in Kuti town. Yetunde received not less than 15 letters from boys on a weekly basis. She had always burnt them to ashes after reading them without giving replies. She would laugh at some boys’ grammatical errors and bad handwritings. Boys rarely proposed to her physically because her face seemed to turn a mighty fire, and in the end she would rain insult on them. The only male friends she had were her classmates in school and few ones she could accept as friends in the neighbourhood. Some boys had once planned to assault her, but they were restrained by the belief that she was a disguised daughter of ‘Yemoja’, the river goddess. Otherwise how could she appear so perfect in all bodily features?
Yetunde wished she could let those boys realize that Jide was nothing to her, but a childhood close friend. In those days, as a little child, Jide always acted the role of a father while Yetunde, Temi and their other friends would act as wives during child’s play called ‘Mummy and Daddy’. She chuckled at the thought that she had always become jealous, fighting for the role of Jide’s first wife. That kind of role was for child’s play, she thought. Childhood was an entirely different world.
The Little Jide of those days had now grown strong, fit and good-looking. And he was the one who’d been defending Yetunde from bullies by their peers in their very tender age. Jide once saved her from drowning at the stream, and that very day Yetunde promised to marry him when they became grown-ups. And now she thought that was a childhood promise. Such promise might not be a debt in God’s eyes. Somehow, Jide didn’t seem to attract her any longer. She only felt he would be just a friend, and nothing more.
The sight of that attractive boy flashed at her again. Although he didn’t appear to be the most handsome of them all, but there was something peculiar about his look. He was gracefully tall and had a magnetic eyes. To her, the boy’s eyes were catchy and delicate like that apple which tempted Adam and Eve in the ‘Garden of Eden’. Maybe just like her own eyes. Iya Toun and some of their neigbours would tease her as ‘Yetunde oloju ede.’ (Yetunde whose face appears like a crayfish) It was because the appearance of crayfish is always tempting and irresistible after it’s been fried or roasted.
“So, you are still here!” Temi intruded on Yetunde’s thought from behind.
“Yes of course,” Yetunde said, wearing a naughty smile as they headed to the stream together, “Didn’t you ask me to wait for you?”
“I did, but I expected you to leave for the stream when I have delayed you,” Temi said, fumbling with a piece of cloth around her waist. Unlike her friend, she was wearing a black skirt and a blue shoulder-high blouse which stuck to her slender, beige figure.
“…And what took you so long?”
“If I tell you, you’ll definitely get angry,”
“If it’s something reasonable, I won’t get angry.”
“I was held down by the story book I borrowed from you, The Drummer boy. It’s such an intriguing story.”
“For that reason; I am collecting my book today,” Yetunde said playfully, “you only use your own money to buy chewing gum. You don’t buy story books. My English Teacher advised me to keep reading story books to further develop my vocabulary.”
“What is the meaning of that big oyinbo,” Temi asked rather humorously.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard about the word ‘vocabulary’. Wetin you dey learn from that your school sef, Olodo girl like you in SS1.”
“Oh, you want to know?” Temi dropped her basin and arched her two hands to show that she was only showing feminine pride at school. Amused, Yetunde burst out laughing. Temi picked up her basin and continued grimly, “Jokes apart, I am really learning new words, and most importantly morals. I will start saving my money for story books. If I really don’t know the meaning of ‘vocabulary’ I would transfer myself to kindergarten.”
“Na you sabi o,” Yetunde teased, “if you like, keep buying sweets and chewing gum.”
The two friends laughed heartily. They talked about so many things - about the way they used to play with mud by the stream, building a so-called bird’s house with wet sand along with all those boys who had now become grown-ups. Temi told Yetunde about one of their friends who happened to be the first girl amongst their peers who developed big breasts. She used to mock her mates, especially Yetunde and Temi as Olosan wewe (unripe-orange-breasted-girls.) Now Yetunde and Temilade were proud of their once little breasts that had finally become full and ripe. The girl was now under medical check-up for swollen breast and cardiac problem due to unnatural breasts. She had confessed how she had gone to put guluso (ground beetle) on her nipples so as to become busty to attract bigger boys at early teenage.
“Na the current news for town be that o,” Temi concluded, laughing triumphantly.
“I don’t know why she was so in haste to become a big girl,” Yetunde broke into a mocking laugher, “Does she think that becoming a ‘big girl’ is all about carrying big breast around?”
“Don’t mind her,” remarked Temi, “my Mum once told me that fake big girls and boys only care much more about their appearance rather than their brain. She said being ‘great’ is being ‘big’. During her youthful age around 50’s, she said big boys and girls of their time were recognized for their intelligence. She made mention of some great men we have in our country. People like Chinua Ache… Ache…something sha. I can’t remember that surname.”
“It must be Achebe - the author of Things fall apart.”
“Yes, Achebe.” Temi affirmed and continued, “Wole Soyinka, Dr. Nnamdi Azikwe among others. She said they must be big boys of their youth, and I agreed with her. I have once told you that Mum used to stay in Ibadan. She had moved down to Abeokuta after meeting Dad. Mum attended the same university as Professor Wole Soyinka in Ibadan …“
“Really?”
“Yes,” Temi continued, “I never knew until the day she told me. Mr. Soyinka started schooling abroad after the scholarship he won in 1952. To cut the long story short; ever Since Mum told me about the secret of being a big boy or girl; I have always wanted to be a big girl with big brain by all means.”
“And me too! I will try my best to become a renowned broadcaster.”
Temi said that her own dream too was to work on radio or television station so as to be famous.
They soon arrived at the stream. The whole place was as busy as ever; aged women and maidens abounded, washing clothes in basins by the stream. The water was only meant for household utensils and laundries. The sharp smell of stream-side plants hung heavily in the atmosphere. There were many children splashing water at each other within the stream, and some of them were busy pouncing like frogs over the low grasses, hunting for grasshoppers and toads. Drinkable water was to be fetched at the only public tap in the neighbourhood. There would be endless queue on every Eve of festive days. Yetunde and Temi had already fetched drinkable water early in the morning.
Some of the boys had already fetched their water, heading back home when Yetunde and Temi were about to fetch theirs. Yetunde was gripped by an impulse to tell Temi about her heart-throb among the boys, but she couldn’t. If she told Temi right there, Yetunde thought, she might also want to develop interest in him. She knew Temi always envied all her desires. Such was the dream of future career and that of avid story-book reader she had shared with her.
“See,” Temi whispered and tapped Yetunde who was filling her basin with water, “one of those boys keeps staring at me.”
“What does he look like?” Yetunde asked without lifting her head to see whosoever the person was.
“He’s wearing a blue armless shirt and yellow shorts. He has an afro-haircut … fairly brown in complexion…”
Yetunde’s heart failed a beat. It was that same boy!
She guessed Temi was also interested in him. Otherwise, how could she have noticed only the boy when it was certain that all of them were looking towards their direction? Temi wouldn’t have noticed only him if she was not really interested in him. Yetunde knew the kind of friend she had – a friend since tender age, in the same neighbourhood and now same high school.
“Maybe he likes you,” Yetunde said, swallowing her fear, and resumed a standing position after filling her basin. “Do you like him?”
Temi smiled warmly in reply. That smile spoke louder to Yetunde than the word, “why not?” That was her normal reaction if she was interested in something or somebody, but Yetunde wanted her to utter it this time. She wished Temi would mean NO with that warm smile for the first time.
“You haven’t said anything.” Yetunde said blankly.
“Why must you know if I like him? Yes I do … if that is what you want to hear,” she said, fondling with the edge of her blouse while staring seductively back at the boy from afar.
Jide and the boy in question with some other lads started murmuring something to one another.
Why again! Yetunde lamented within her. She wondered if her friend was cursed to share desires with her. Yetunde wished to use craft to know if the boy felt the same way towards her, and also to confirm if he was really interested in Temi.
At that moment, she asked Temi to follow her to where the boys were standing. Temi quickly obeyed.
When they got there, Yetunde started jovially “Jide! You have not introduced your girlfriends to your new friends. Is that good, en?”
Jide didn’t utter a word, but his posture and confused look suggested, “How many girlfriends do I have? Is it not only you?”
“Who is your enemy between both of us?” Yetunde questioned, smiling, “We are both your friends; aren’t we?”
Embarrassed, Jide nodded hesitantly, “Yes, you both are.”
Yetunde knew that the word GIRLFRIEND could mean a girl that a man is having a romantic affair with, but she had to let her secret love realize she was having no affair with Jide other than ‘just friends’.
Meanwhile Jide felt his legs burning under him, as if they couldn’t support his body any longer. He knew they were still friends, but he had hoped to woo her when they became grown-ups; of course they were now grown-ups. He thought it would be easy for him since Yetunde had already made a promise to him during their childhood days.
He quickly composed himself and began with the introduction. He introduced the three boys as his acquaintances on football field and mentioned their names one by one. Temi then realized that her desired boy appeared to be staring amorously at Yetunde; not her.
Yetunde and Temi shook hands with them one after the other by wishing them Happy new year. Those three boys prolonged their shakes with Yetunde so that she had to fight out her hand from their lustful palms. Two of them seemed to prolong shakes with Temi and she had to force it away like her friend.
When it was their secret love’s turn, both friends felt cold rush through their veins under the sweaty weather. Temi shook hand with him first, but her wishful thinking completely failed her when the boy quickly escaped his palm from hers. When it was Yetunde’s turn, the boy held relentlessly to her hand and caressed it in a way that communicated, “I wish I could hold this hand forever.” Yetunde couldn’t look at him straight in the eyes nor tried to force out her trapped hand as quickly as she had done to the other boys. Temi’s eyes immediately turned red with jealousy. Yetunde knew right away that the feelings were mutual. “My trick worked!” Yetunde felt like screaming out.
However, Temi was still hopeful that the boy was hers. After all, Yetunde never said she liked him.
“His name is Solomon,” Jide announced, “He is my school mate. I nicknamed him ‘Solo man’ because he is quiet. He just moved to our neighbourhood two weeks ago.”
Yetunde was pleased to hear that, but didn’t show it as she said, “Happy new year! Solomon, and welcome to our peaceful neighbourhood.”
Solomon beamed, “Pleased meeting you, but it’s not yet a new year.”
“Yeah, I know,” Yetunde said, “I am only being optimistic that we shall see the New Year by God’s grace.”
“That’s right,” Solomon responded thoughtfully.
Yetunde cleverly terminated the discussion at that instant by bidding the boys farewell. Temi followed behind Yetunde who had just left for where her basin lay awaited. Soon after the boys left the scene, Yetunde and Temi set to carry their water.
Weak and tired from new year church service, Yetunde lazily picked up her diary from under the pillow to note all the beautiful things that happened to her during the last day of the previous year. She looked at the wall clock - it was 1:43 am. Half asleep, she managed to write about Solomon as her dream boy or fiancé. She wished to invite him to their church fellowship after the festive air must have blown away. Maybe she could gain his attention as a friend to lover that way. She bit the butt of her pen as she pondered over what else she had to write, and like that she fell asleep.
Some days later, alone in the room, Solomon couldn’t stop thinking about Yetunde. His home was just 8 houses away from hers, on the same street. Meanwhile Jide lived four houses behind her house, for there was a narrow road next to Yetunde’s rented apartment, an old-fashioned two-storey building. The major road that passed through the street was a dusty road that was higher than the houses around. Most houses in the town were bungalows with rust zincs. Some had thatched roofs and mud-bricked walls. The atmosphere of Kuti town was always hazy from the dust that would be raised by speeding lorries and cars.
Solomon had been overwhelmed by a desire to woo Yetunde, but he was restrained immediately he’d heard from the boys in the neighbourhood how she would condemn anyone that proposed to her for friendship, let alone a romantic affair. He couldn’t afford to confront her directly for a romantic affair because he never wanted to be insulted by a girl that had already regarded him well. He thought he had to try his luck if she could accept him as a friend at least - perhaps through friendship they might get intimate. He then picked up the best pen he had from his draw and set to write her a letter.
Letters were always sent secretly to high school girls through little children, especially the smart ones. Most parents were against their daughters having male friends prior to their graduation from high school. Any girl that was caught might be rebuked by her parent or whoever that was sponsoring her education. Sometimes, it would lead to forfeit of the completion of their academies. They would receive those letters whenever they were sent on an errand.
On the following day, at the public tap, Yetunde received three enveloped letters from three different children in her neighbourhood. That wasn’t new to her.
These boys and their troubles again! She lamented, and reproached herself for having received the letters in the first place. She wished to throw them in the bush on her way home. She wasn’t in the mood to read any letter. Somehow she made up her mind to see whatever trash they had sent again. When she got home, she sneaked to the toilet to read them.
She unfolded the first letter. It was written by one boy that had been pestering her for friendship for over a year. The boy stated in the letter that he would provide for her whatever she needed if she could consider his proposal. He stated that he was now working for a company where they were paying him a huge salary.
Yetunde shook her head with irritation. She didn’t bother to read the third paragraph before she tore it into shreds and consigned them into the pit-latrine.
She unfolded the second one; he introduced himself as a boy from the next street. He reminded her that he was the one she met at a motor park a day she was coming from market with Iya Toun’s goods. He helped her with the load to her head, and now he was wooing her.
After reading the first paragraph, she tore it without caring about the rest. She tore the third letter annoyingly with the envelope. When she was trying to sweep the pieces that had scattered on the floor into the toilet, she thought she saw something written like Solomon in one of the shreds. She took a better look and saw, From: Solomon, a.k.a solo man. Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh My goodness!” She exclaimed quietly. The body of the letter was gone. Her hands trembled as she gathered the conclusion of the letter. She hurried inside the room to fetch a transparent tape to arrange them in order. Eventually, the only words she could make out were:
"… I will be looking forward to your reply, and I will be very grateful if you can consider my request.
From: Solomon a.k.a Solo man."
Seated with tilted head beside the bed, Yetunde slapped her knees in disappointment. She was wondering what request he was seeking from her. A dating proposal was her wishful thinking. If Solomon asked if she had received his letter, what could she say? She wondered if to lie that she didn’t receive any letter, perhaps he could re-write it.
She imagined if Solomon eventually told her he would re-write it. There and then she would jovially ask him to express whatever his request was. And she wished to tell him something like:
“Solomon, don’t be afraid. Feel free to ask me anything.”
“I love you, Yetunde.” That was all she longed to hear from him.
She felt like staring into his eyes with a warm smile while saying, “Oh Really?”
She wanted him to nod and respond, “Yes, I really do,” while smiling back at her.
Yetunde thought her imagination was fairly good, but impossible. What if Solomon was hiding somewhere when he sent the child to deliver it?
****
For almost a month, Solomon and Yetunde couldn’t meet each other since every school had now resumed. Iya Toun hardly sent Yetunde on an errand during school session because she was a book-worm. Each time she returned from school she would study the daily topics and read far ahead of the current topic. She felt like meeting Solomon by chance someday so that he would ask her about the letter. However, she couldn’t afford to let her emotion distract her studies.
On one Saturday Yetunde saw Jide in the church during music practice. She felt like asking him about Solomon. Jide was the leader of the choirboys since he was gifted with a sonorous voice. Yetunde was endowed with pleasant voice, so she was also among the choristers. Yetunde noticed that Jide had changed towards her ever since the day she proved herself as just a friend to him. It was evident in his behaviours as he wouldn’t cheer up with her the way he used to do during previous practices. After the day’s practice Yetunde walked up to her under a chestnut tree where he had sat quietly, learning some musical notes from a book, beside the church.
“Why can’t you invite your friend to our church?” ventured Yetunde.
“Which of them,” Jide replied low-spiritedly.
“The one in our neighbourhood,” she gained more confidence and managed to sit beside him on the bench, “I mean that ‘Soul man’ or what do you call him?”
“He is SOLO MAN; don’t mess up my friend’s nickname, pleas-s-s-e.”
“What-e-ver.” Yetunde drawled, waving her right hand in a circular motion.
Unruffled by her response, Jide hesitated and said, “He has started attending one Catholic Church down the town already, but I will try to invite him to our church tomorrow … and why are you concerned about that?”
“Nothing; really,” Yetunde’s voice posed lack of interest. She began shaking her out-stretched while tapping her knees playfully “I just think your close friend needs to be attending same church as you.”
“Yeah, yeah … but Temilade is not attending our church. Is she not your close friend?”
Confused, Yetunde scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, “You mean Temi? Oh, don’t mind her. I’ve persuaded her times without number, but her mother wouldn’t allow her.”
Jide felt Yetunde was up to something with Solomon. If not she wouldn’t talk about him at all. Somehow, he convinced himself that Yetunde was not interested him. After all, he was not more handsome than majority of those boys Yetunde had rejected. She was concerned about Solomon probably because he was still new to the neighbourhood, he concluded.
Yetunde hoped to see Solomon in the church on the following day, but he didn’t show up. She failed to ask Jide about him as she didn’t want to arouse his suspicion, and each time she walked past Solomon’s home, he wouldn’t be outside, or most times he would have gone out.
On the following Sunday Yetunde was in the midst of the choir, singing praise and worship songs. She had already lost hope about seeing Solomon in their church. When she was in the spirit of hymns, she glimpsed somebody that looked like Solomon amongst the congregations at the second row. The blurry figure soon became vivid to her as she came back to her normal self. She was so excited having realized it was Solomon.
At the end of the service, Yetunde forced her way through the streaming congregations in order to meet him. When she got outside, she met him speaking with Jide. At that moment, Solomon wondered how he was going to ask Yetunde about the letter. Yetunde also craved of him to ask her about it. “How is that going to be possible in Jide’s presence?” was the question that echoed through their respective minds.
“Hi! Yetunde,” muttered Solomon, “long time.”
“Yeah,” Yetunde responded simply, “long time … You came to our church. I hope you did enjoy our service.”
“Sure, it’s interesting. And … you’ve got a nice voice. You ought to be the lead singer.”
“You must be flattering me,” Yetunde smiled, “you couldn’t have perceived my voice amongst the chorus?”
Jide gestured, waving his hand that they should be heading home together. And the discussion continued as they set to leave the spot. Solomon wasn’t at ease within him because he didn’t know Yetunde’s mind on the letter.
“I’m endowed with perceptive ears,” said Solomon.
“Good for you,” snapped Yetunde.
Jide halted at once, “Oh! I have almost forgotten. The reverend asked me to see him after the service. Please, you can both wait for me under that tree.”
“Alright, don’t be long.” Solomon said as he watched his friend disappear into the church. And they both went to stand under the tree-shade since the benches were filled up with people studying hymns and Bibles.
Now they ceased to speak to each other. They started stealing glances at each other as they both pretended looking somewhere else. Yetunde yearned to hear Solomon ask her about the letter. Solomon also expected her to say something about it. Sometimes, their eyes would clash like the meeting of two naked wires , and at once they would escape them. Yetunde then pouted her lips while staring at Solomon as if to ask, “won’t you ask me about the letter when there is an opportunity?”
Some of the neigbours started shaking their heads as they sighted the little Yetunde whose charming face was glaring with fear. She forced her way to where Iya Toun was sitting at the verandah and asked what the matter was.
“Nothing. Okay?” Iya Toun said after wiping her face with the end of her wrapper, and quickly forced a warm smile at her, “Go and drop your bag in the room. Your food is on the table.”
“Why are so many people here,” Yetunde asked curiously, “and why are you not selling your goods today? I saw tears on your face, Mama. Please tell me what the matter is …Where is Toun?” The last question heaved a lump in her throat. She thought something had happened to Toun, her female cousin, because she was a sickler.
“She is not back from school yet.” Iya Toun responded firmly, trying as much as she could to contain her sorrow, “Go inside, nothing has happened to anyone. Okay?”
Yetunde asked no more question throughout that day. She was expecting her Dad to come and pay her a visit on the next day which was Saturday. He would come to give her money, new storybook and clothes every weekend. She didn’t worry much. He might be too busy after all, she thought. She was hopeful to see him on the next Saturday, but he didn’t appear throughout the day.
“Mama, why is Daddy not coming to see me?” she once asked Iya Toun in a whiny voice.
“‘Oloju ede mi’, Daddy is too busy to come around.” Iya Toun responded gently, and pecked her on the forehead.
She wasn’t convinced yet. No matter how busy Dad could be, he couldn’t afford to miss his only precious daughter’s face for two whole weeks, she had assured herself.
Many weeks passed, she kept pestering Iya Toun to take her to Idenro where her father was residing. Iya Toun told her that he had travelled out of the country to buy her new clothes, jewelry and shoes. Yetunde’s heart leapt excitedly at the mention of those new surprises. After a year she could bear it no more. No one could satisfy her needs as much as her Dad. She soaked her pillow with tears all night. Sometimes, she would have bad dreams, seeing her Dad shedding tears and beckoning her to come and meet him, but she could not - there would be a deep pit between them. She had that same nightmare almost all night.
One day, after some months, she demanded the true story of her Dad’s sudden disappearance from Iya Toun. She had realized that her Dad would inform her if truly he had travelled in order to buy her gifts. When the woman wouldn’t yield, Yetunde held a sharp knife, aiming to stab herself in the stomach. It was that moment Iya Toun broke into tears and narrated all that happened to her.
She told her that her Dad had been mistakenly shot by armed robbers while going to work early in the morning.
“I knew it then!” Yetunde collapsed to her knees while boiling tears sprang out of her eyes. The bloodthirsty knife clattered on the floor, “I was suspicious that somebody died … I knew it. So it’s my Dad.” Her voice sank with the last word.
“I can’t let your generation vanish like this, Yetunde,” Iya Toun burst into tears as she cuddled her mournfully; they were almost drinking from each other’s tears as they both sniffed, “I can’t watch you die … I love you. Okay? I love you so much like my own daughter … I want you to take heart. You don’t need to go and join your both parents in heaven. I will try as much as I can to take care of you.”
Yetunde’s father was a primary school teacher during his lifetime. He was nicknamed ‘Fine Oyinbo Teacher’ by his pupils because of his fair skin and pointed nose. Yetunde was his only daughter and she had taken after her father with fair skin. Yetunde’s mother had died during childbirth when Yetunde was four years of age. Ever since then she had been staying with Iya Toun in Kuti town.
Yetunde had sworn that her father’s murderer and all his family must also be doomed by bullet of a gun. She had sworn for 41 nights with her Bible on her chest. She noted the day she started in her diary in order to be precise with the calculation. And she would burst into tears each day she read out from the diary all the promises her father had made to her.
The incident was about 8 years ago. It was just a few months ago Yetunde turned eighteen. Now she was standing along a dusty road that led to the stream, waiting for Temi, her best friend, who had promised to meet her on the way. It was New Year’s Eve. Kuti town in Abeokuta was teeming with new faces from across the town. Yetunde was holding a purple basin in her left hand, her right hand hanging on her hip. Her shapely, plump figure was nonetheless defined by the ankara wrapper and her white sleeveless blouse.
“Oh, my God, tomorrow is the the beginning of 1992,” she thought to herself, praying for all she wished to achieve in that year.
Her mind wandered back to her childhood when she would splash water with Temi and many boys at the stream. She couldn’t swim in the midst of boys again. She thought there was a veil blocking her eyes then. It was those times she was still in primary school, but now in SS2, looking forward to graduate in SS3. As an art student, she aspired to study mass communication in higher institution. She wondered how her dream would be fulfilled without her father. She wasn’t certain if Iya Toun would sponsor her education to university level.
In the midst of her thought, Yetunde observed a group of boys coming towards the stream. They soon walked closer with water barrels, kegs and paint containers. Four of them were boys from her neighbourhood and others were strangers. She found herself staring at one of the strange boys without knowing the reason why. She quickly controlled herself as she observed that the boy’s eyes was about to meet hers from the gathering. She briefly exchanged greetings with Jide, her childhood friend, and the three boys that lived right beside her house as they walked past her. She ignored those unfamiliar faces that seemed be to be admiring her look, including the one that just trapped her heart as a snare does to little rats. Yetunde’s pride was taller than Olumo rock. To those familiar boys, Yetunde’s beauty grew more every day like that of a rose planted by the river, and the strangers couldn’t resist her sight.
Yetunde could hear some of the boys hailing Jide as Oko iyawo (the bride’s groom) and wished to hear him protest against that. Jide was smiling and swaggering while they all kept glancing back at her. Jide was envied by his friends as they all believed he was more than friends with Yetunde who was one of the jewels in Kuti town. Yetunde received not less than 15 letters from boys on a weekly basis. She had always burnt them to ashes after reading them without giving replies. She would laugh at some boys’ grammatical errors and bad handwritings. Boys rarely proposed to her physically because her face seemed to turn a mighty fire, and in the end she would rain insult on them. The only male friends she had were her classmates in school and few ones she could accept as friends in the neighbourhood. Some boys had once planned to assault her, but they were restrained by the belief that she was a disguised daughter of ‘Yemoja’, the river goddess. Otherwise how could she appear so perfect in all bodily features?
Yetunde wished she could let those boys realize that Jide was nothing to her, but a childhood close friend. In those days, as a little child, Jide always acted the role of a father while Yetunde, Temi and their other friends would act as wives during child’s play called ‘Mummy and Daddy’. She chuckled at the thought that she had always become jealous, fighting for the role of Jide’s first wife. That kind of role was for child’s play, she thought. Childhood was an entirely different world.
The Little Jide of those days had now grown strong, fit and good-looking. And he was the one who’d been defending Yetunde from bullies by their peers in their very tender age. Jide once saved her from drowning at the stream, and that very day Yetunde promised to marry him when they became grown-ups. And now she thought that was a childhood promise. Such promise might not be a debt in God’s eyes. Somehow, Jide didn’t seem to attract her any longer. She only felt he would be just a friend, and nothing more.
The sight of that attractive boy flashed at her again. Although he didn’t appear to be the most handsome of them all, but there was something peculiar about his look. He was gracefully tall and had a magnetic eyes. To her, the boy’s eyes were catchy and delicate like that apple which tempted Adam and Eve in the ‘Garden of Eden’. Maybe just like her own eyes. Iya Toun and some of their neigbours would tease her as ‘Yetunde oloju ede.’ (Yetunde whose face appears like a crayfish) It was because the appearance of crayfish is always tempting and irresistible after it’s been fried or roasted.
“So, you are still here!” Temi intruded on Yetunde’s thought from behind.
“Yes of course,” Yetunde said, wearing a naughty smile as they headed to the stream together, “Didn’t you ask me to wait for you?”
“I did, but I expected you to leave for the stream when I have delayed you,” Temi said, fumbling with a piece of cloth around her waist. Unlike her friend, she was wearing a black skirt and a blue shoulder-high blouse which stuck to her slender, beige figure.
“…And what took you so long?”
“If I tell you, you’ll definitely get angry,”
“If it’s something reasonable, I won’t get angry.”
“I was held down by the story book I borrowed from you, The Drummer boy. It’s such an intriguing story.”
“For that reason; I am collecting my book today,” Yetunde said playfully, “you only use your own money to buy chewing gum. You don’t buy story books. My English Teacher advised me to keep reading story books to further develop my vocabulary.”
“What is the meaning of that big oyinbo,” Temi asked rather humorously.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard about the word ‘vocabulary’. Wetin you dey learn from that your school sef, Olodo girl like you in SS1.”
“Oh, you want to know?” Temi dropped her basin and arched her two hands to show that she was only showing feminine pride at school. Amused, Yetunde burst out laughing. Temi picked up her basin and continued grimly, “Jokes apart, I am really learning new words, and most importantly morals. I will start saving my money for story books. If I really don’t know the meaning of ‘vocabulary’ I would transfer myself to kindergarten.”
“Na you sabi o,” Yetunde teased, “if you like, keep buying sweets and chewing gum.”
The two friends laughed heartily. They talked about so many things - about the way they used to play with mud by the stream, building a so-called bird’s house with wet sand along with all those boys who had now become grown-ups. Temi told Yetunde about one of their friends who happened to be the first girl amongst their peers who developed big breasts. She used to mock her mates, especially Yetunde and Temi as Olosan wewe (unripe-orange-breasted-girls.) Now Yetunde and Temilade were proud of their once little breasts that had finally become full and ripe. The girl was now under medical check-up for swollen breast and cardiac problem due to unnatural breasts. She had confessed how she had gone to put guluso (ground beetle) on her nipples so as to become busty to attract bigger boys at early teenage.
“Na the current news for town be that o,” Temi concluded, laughing triumphantly.
“I don’t know why she was so in haste to become a big girl,” Yetunde broke into a mocking laugher, “Does she think that becoming a ‘big girl’ is all about carrying big breast around?”
“Don’t mind her,” remarked Temi, “my Mum once told me that fake big girls and boys only care much more about their appearance rather than their brain. She said being ‘great’ is being ‘big’. During her youthful age around 50’s, she said big boys and girls of their time were recognized for their intelligence. She made mention of some great men we have in our country. People like Chinua Ache… Ache…something sha. I can’t remember that surname.”
“It must be Achebe - the author of Things fall apart.”
“Yes, Achebe.” Temi affirmed and continued, “Wole Soyinka, Dr. Nnamdi Azikwe among others. She said they must be big boys of their youth, and I agreed with her. I have once told you that Mum used to stay in Ibadan. She had moved down to Abeokuta after meeting Dad. Mum attended the same university as Professor Wole Soyinka in Ibadan …“
“Really?”
“Yes,” Temi continued, “I never knew until the day she told me. Mr. Soyinka started schooling abroad after the scholarship he won in 1952. To cut the long story short; ever Since Mum told me about the secret of being a big boy or girl; I have always wanted to be a big girl with big brain by all means.”
“And me too! I will try my best to become a renowned broadcaster.”
Temi said that her own dream too was to work on radio or television station so as to be famous.
They soon arrived at the stream. The whole place was as busy as ever; aged women and maidens abounded, washing clothes in basins by the stream. The water was only meant for household utensils and laundries. The sharp smell of stream-side plants hung heavily in the atmosphere. There were many children splashing water at each other within the stream, and some of them were busy pouncing like frogs over the low grasses, hunting for grasshoppers and toads. Drinkable water was to be fetched at the only public tap in the neighbourhood. There would be endless queue on every Eve of festive days. Yetunde and Temi had already fetched drinkable water early in the morning.
Some of the boys had already fetched their water, heading back home when Yetunde and Temi were about to fetch theirs. Yetunde was gripped by an impulse to tell Temi about her heart-throb among the boys, but she couldn’t. If she told Temi right there, Yetunde thought, she might also want to develop interest in him. She knew Temi always envied all her desires. Such was the dream of future career and that of avid story-book reader she had shared with her.
“See,” Temi whispered and tapped Yetunde who was filling her basin with water, “one of those boys keeps staring at me.”
“What does he look like?” Yetunde asked without lifting her head to see whosoever the person was.
“He’s wearing a blue armless shirt and yellow shorts. He has an afro-haircut … fairly brown in complexion…”
Yetunde’s heart failed a beat. It was that same boy!
She guessed Temi was also interested in him. Otherwise, how could she have noticed only the boy when it was certain that all of them were looking towards their direction? Temi wouldn’t have noticed only him if she was not really interested in him. Yetunde knew the kind of friend she had – a friend since tender age, in the same neighbourhood and now same high school.
“Maybe he likes you,” Yetunde said, swallowing her fear, and resumed a standing position after filling her basin. “Do you like him?”
Temi smiled warmly in reply. That smile spoke louder to Yetunde than the word, “why not?” That was her normal reaction if she was interested in something or somebody, but Yetunde wanted her to utter it this time. She wished Temi would mean NO with that warm smile for the first time.
“You haven’t said anything.” Yetunde said blankly.
“Why must you know if I like him? Yes I do … if that is what you want to hear,” she said, fondling with the edge of her blouse while staring seductively back at the boy from afar.
Jide and the boy in question with some other lads started murmuring something to one another.
Why again! Yetunde lamented within her. She wondered if her friend was cursed to share desires with her. Yetunde wished to use craft to know if the boy felt the same way towards her, and also to confirm if he was really interested in Temi.
At that moment, she asked Temi to follow her to where the boys were standing. Temi quickly obeyed.
When they got there, Yetunde started jovially “Jide! You have not introduced your girlfriends to your new friends. Is that good, en?”
Jide didn’t utter a word, but his posture and confused look suggested, “How many girlfriends do I have? Is it not only you?”
“Who is your enemy between both of us?” Yetunde questioned, smiling, “We are both your friends; aren’t we?”
Embarrassed, Jide nodded hesitantly, “Yes, you both are.”
Yetunde knew that the word GIRLFRIEND could mean a girl that a man is having a romantic affair with, but she had to let her secret love realize she was having no affair with Jide other than ‘just friends’.
Meanwhile Jide felt his legs burning under him, as if they couldn’t support his body any longer. He knew they were still friends, but he had hoped to woo her when they became grown-ups; of course they were now grown-ups. He thought it would be easy for him since Yetunde had already made a promise to him during their childhood days.
He quickly composed himself and began with the introduction. He introduced the three boys as his acquaintances on football field and mentioned their names one by one. Temi then realized that her desired boy appeared to be staring amorously at Yetunde; not her.
Yetunde and Temi shook hands with them one after the other by wishing them Happy new year. Those three boys prolonged their shakes with Yetunde so that she had to fight out her hand from their lustful palms. Two of them seemed to prolong shakes with Temi and she had to force it away like her friend.
When it was their secret love’s turn, both friends felt cold rush through their veins under the sweaty weather. Temi shook hand with him first, but her wishful thinking completely failed her when the boy quickly escaped his palm from hers. When it was Yetunde’s turn, the boy held relentlessly to her hand and caressed it in a way that communicated, “I wish I could hold this hand forever.” Yetunde couldn’t look at him straight in the eyes nor tried to force out her trapped hand as quickly as she had done to the other boys. Temi’s eyes immediately turned red with jealousy. Yetunde knew right away that the feelings were mutual. “My trick worked!” Yetunde felt like screaming out.
However, Temi was still hopeful that the boy was hers. After all, Yetunde never said she liked him.
“His name is Solomon,” Jide announced, “He is my school mate. I nicknamed him ‘Solo man’ because he is quiet. He just moved to our neighbourhood two weeks ago.”
Yetunde was pleased to hear that, but didn’t show it as she said, “Happy new year! Solomon, and welcome to our peaceful neighbourhood.”
Solomon beamed, “Pleased meeting you, but it’s not yet a new year.”
“Yeah, I know,” Yetunde said, “I am only being optimistic that we shall see the New Year by God’s grace.”
“That’s right,” Solomon responded thoughtfully.
Yetunde cleverly terminated the discussion at that instant by bidding the boys farewell. Temi followed behind Yetunde who had just left for where her basin lay awaited. Soon after the boys left the scene, Yetunde and Temi set to carry their water.
Weak and tired from new year church service, Yetunde lazily picked up her diary from under the pillow to note all the beautiful things that happened to her during the last day of the previous year. She looked at the wall clock - it was 1:43 am. Half asleep, she managed to write about Solomon as her dream boy or fiancé. She wished to invite him to their church fellowship after the festive air must have blown away. Maybe she could gain his attention as a friend to lover that way. She bit the butt of her pen as she pondered over what else she had to write, and like that she fell asleep.
Some days later, alone in the room, Solomon couldn’t stop thinking about Yetunde. His home was just 8 houses away from hers, on the same street. Meanwhile Jide lived four houses behind her house, for there was a narrow road next to Yetunde’s rented apartment, an old-fashioned two-storey building. The major road that passed through the street was a dusty road that was higher than the houses around. Most houses in the town were bungalows with rust zincs. Some had thatched roofs and mud-bricked walls. The atmosphere of Kuti town was always hazy from the dust that would be raised by speeding lorries and cars.
Solomon had been overwhelmed by a desire to woo Yetunde, but he was restrained immediately he’d heard from the boys in the neighbourhood how she would condemn anyone that proposed to her for friendship, let alone a romantic affair. He couldn’t afford to confront her directly for a romantic affair because he never wanted to be insulted by a girl that had already regarded him well. He thought he had to try his luck if she could accept him as a friend at least - perhaps through friendship they might get intimate. He then picked up the best pen he had from his draw and set to write her a letter.
Letters were always sent secretly to high school girls through little children, especially the smart ones. Most parents were against their daughters having male friends prior to their graduation from high school. Any girl that was caught might be rebuked by her parent or whoever that was sponsoring her education. Sometimes, it would lead to forfeit of the completion of their academies. They would receive those letters whenever they were sent on an errand.
On the following day, at the public tap, Yetunde received three enveloped letters from three different children in her neighbourhood. That wasn’t new to her.
These boys and their troubles again! She lamented, and reproached herself for having received the letters in the first place. She wished to throw them in the bush on her way home. She wasn’t in the mood to read any letter. Somehow she made up her mind to see whatever trash they had sent again. When she got home, she sneaked to the toilet to read them.
She unfolded the first letter. It was written by one boy that had been pestering her for friendship for over a year. The boy stated in the letter that he would provide for her whatever she needed if she could consider his proposal. He stated that he was now working for a company where they were paying him a huge salary.
Yetunde shook her head with irritation. She didn’t bother to read the third paragraph before she tore it into shreds and consigned them into the pit-latrine.
She unfolded the second one; he introduced himself as a boy from the next street. He reminded her that he was the one she met at a motor park a day she was coming from market with Iya Toun’s goods. He helped her with the load to her head, and now he was wooing her.
After reading the first paragraph, she tore it without caring about the rest. She tore the third letter annoyingly with the envelope. When she was trying to sweep the pieces that had scattered on the floor into the toilet, she thought she saw something written like Solomon in one of the shreds. She took a better look and saw, From: Solomon, a.k.a solo man. Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh My goodness!” She exclaimed quietly. The body of the letter was gone. Her hands trembled as she gathered the conclusion of the letter. She hurried inside the room to fetch a transparent tape to arrange them in order. Eventually, the only words she could make out were:
"… I will be looking forward to your reply, and I will be very grateful if you can consider my request.
From: Solomon a.k.a Solo man."
Seated with tilted head beside the bed, Yetunde slapped her knees in disappointment. She was wondering what request he was seeking from her. A dating proposal was her wishful thinking. If Solomon asked if she had received his letter, what could she say? She wondered if to lie that she didn’t receive any letter, perhaps he could re-write it.
She imagined if Solomon eventually told her he would re-write it. There and then she would jovially ask him to express whatever his request was. And she wished to tell him something like:
“Solomon, don’t be afraid. Feel free to ask me anything.”
“I love you, Yetunde.” That was all she longed to hear from him.
She felt like staring into his eyes with a warm smile while saying, “Oh Really?”
She wanted him to nod and respond, “Yes, I really do,” while smiling back at her.
Yetunde thought her imagination was fairly good, but impossible. What if Solomon was hiding somewhere when he sent the child to deliver it?
****
For almost a month, Solomon and Yetunde couldn’t meet each other since every school had now resumed. Iya Toun hardly sent Yetunde on an errand during school session because she was a book-worm. Each time she returned from school she would study the daily topics and read far ahead of the current topic. She felt like meeting Solomon by chance someday so that he would ask her about the letter. However, she couldn’t afford to let her emotion distract her studies.
On one Saturday Yetunde saw Jide in the church during music practice. She felt like asking him about Solomon. Jide was the leader of the choirboys since he was gifted with a sonorous voice. Yetunde was endowed with pleasant voice, so she was also among the choristers. Yetunde noticed that Jide had changed towards her ever since the day she proved herself as just a friend to him. It was evident in his behaviours as he wouldn’t cheer up with her the way he used to do during previous practices. After the day’s practice Yetunde walked up to her under a chestnut tree where he had sat quietly, learning some musical notes from a book, beside the church.
“Why can’t you invite your friend to our church?” ventured Yetunde.
“Which of them,” Jide replied low-spiritedly.
“The one in our neighbourhood,” she gained more confidence and managed to sit beside him on the bench, “I mean that ‘Soul man’ or what do you call him?”
“He is SOLO MAN; don’t mess up my friend’s nickname, pleas-s-s-e.”
“What-e-ver.” Yetunde drawled, waving her right hand in a circular motion.
Unruffled by her response, Jide hesitated and said, “He has started attending one Catholic Church down the town already, but I will try to invite him to our church tomorrow … and why are you concerned about that?”
“Nothing; really,” Yetunde’s voice posed lack of interest. She began shaking her out-stretched while tapping her knees playfully “I just think your close friend needs to be attending same church as you.”
“Yeah, yeah … but Temilade is not attending our church. Is she not your close friend?”
Confused, Yetunde scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, “You mean Temi? Oh, don’t mind her. I’ve persuaded her times without number, but her mother wouldn’t allow her.”
Jide felt Yetunde was up to something with Solomon. If not she wouldn’t talk about him at all. Somehow, he convinced himself that Yetunde was not interested him. After all, he was not more handsome than majority of those boys Yetunde had rejected. She was concerned about Solomon probably because he was still new to the neighbourhood, he concluded.
Yetunde hoped to see Solomon in the church on the following day, but he didn’t show up. She failed to ask Jide about him as she didn’t want to arouse his suspicion, and each time she walked past Solomon’s home, he wouldn’t be outside, or most times he would have gone out.
On the following Sunday Yetunde was in the midst of the choir, singing praise and worship songs. She had already lost hope about seeing Solomon in their church. When she was in the spirit of hymns, she glimpsed somebody that looked like Solomon amongst the congregations at the second row. The blurry figure soon became vivid to her as she came back to her normal self. She was so excited having realized it was Solomon.
At the end of the service, Yetunde forced her way through the streaming congregations in order to meet him. When she got outside, she met him speaking with Jide. At that moment, Solomon wondered how he was going to ask Yetunde about the letter. Yetunde also craved of him to ask her about it. “How is that going to be possible in Jide’s presence?” was the question that echoed through their respective minds.
“Hi! Yetunde,” muttered Solomon, “long time.”
“Yeah,” Yetunde responded simply, “long time … You came to our church. I hope you did enjoy our service.”
“Sure, it’s interesting. And … you’ve got a nice voice. You ought to be the lead singer.”
“You must be flattering me,” Yetunde smiled, “you couldn’t have perceived my voice amongst the chorus?”
Jide gestured, waving his hand that they should be heading home together. And the discussion continued as they set to leave the spot. Solomon wasn’t at ease within him because he didn’t know Yetunde’s mind on the letter.
“I’m endowed with perceptive ears,” said Solomon.
“Good for you,” snapped Yetunde.
Jide halted at once, “Oh! I have almost forgotten. The reverend asked me to see him after the service. Please, you can both wait for me under that tree.”
“Alright, don’t be long.” Solomon said as he watched his friend disappear into the church. And they both went to stand under the tree-shade since the benches were filled up with people studying hymns and Bibles.
Now they ceased to speak to each other. They started stealing glances at each other as they both pretended looking somewhere else. Yetunde yearned to hear Solomon ask her about the letter. Solomon also expected her to say something about it. Sometimes, their eyes would clash like the meeting of two naked wires , and at once they would escape them. Yetunde then pouted her lips while staring at Solomon as if to ask, “won’t you ask me about the letter when there is an opportunity?”
to be continued....
Other posts
Turning a new leaf
The buried passion
Treasure and the lucky digger
The pride of a bride
The vengeance of omoge omi
Land of chaos (Novel extract))
Divine diary
Heron at desert
Flame of honesty
No comments:
Post a Comment