0% found this document useful (0 votes)
70 views203 pages

Mapping The Babbler's Brain

A series of observations on the use of English across contexts, to stimulate the linguist's imagination and the ordinary users proficiency

Uploaded by

adelekefakoya
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
0% found this document useful (0 votes)
70 views203 pages

Mapping The Babbler's Brain

A series of observations on the use of English across contexts, to stimulate the linguist's imagination and the ordinary users proficiency

Uploaded by

adelekefakoya
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
You are on page 1/ 203

1

Mapping the
Babbler’s Brains

Prof. Adeleke A. Fakoya


2

This selection of the Babbler’s idle writings has been made


possible through the timeless generosity of my siblings:
Mr. Adewale A. Fakoya, FICAN; Mrs. Sade Akinsola,
Mrs. Solaade Ayo-Aderele, Mrs. Fadeke Ogunmakin,
Mr. Yemi Fakoya, Mr. Segun Fakoya, Mr. Bola Fakoya, and
Mr. Deola Fakoya.

© 2018 Prof. Adeleke A. Fakoya


Department of English
Lagos State University, Nigeria

--------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
1. Confirming If You Don’t Babble 3 – 32

2. English At Play 33 – 96

3. Rhymes For The Growing Child 97 – 102

4. Genotype 103 – 153

5. Wish Doctor 154 – 168

6. The Mistreatment of History 169 – 184

7. Valentine’s Day Blues 185 – 186

8. Curing Nigeria’s Political Hang-up 187 – 190

9. Rhyming As Passion 191 – 197

10. Numbered Days 198 – 200

11. Why The Tortoise Is Alive Today 201 – 203


3

Item 1

Confirming If Don’t You Babble

Nigerians are some of the


world’s most confident second-
language users of English. But
their confidence does not
preclude usage problems and
confusion from time to time. The
answers to the following
exercises will attest to your
competence in English or your
propensity for ‘babbling’. The
answers are provided at the end
of the exercises.
4

Select the most appropriate answers, according to Standard/


International English.

1. Our newspapers always publish short extracts from new


novels to …… your appetite.
(a) wet
(b) weight
(c) whet

2. Our host told us that everybody would have to fend for


……
(a) him or herself.
(b) his or her self.
(c) himself or herself.

3.That woman must have been a beauty queen in her ……


(a) heyday
(b) hay days
(c) hey days

4. X: When last did you see your dad?

Y: Well, I haven’t seen him for ……


(a) donkey years
(b) donkey’s years
(c) donkey year’s

5. I can’t visit him again when his wife is there with him; you
know what they say, ………..
(a) once bitten, twice shy
(b) once beaten, twice shy
(c) one beaten, two’s shy
5

6. The former chairman did not do a proper ……….. of


relevant documents.
a) handover
b) handing over
c) handling over

7. The new road is so smooth you’d think you’re driving on


glass. It was ……….. early this morning by the First Lady.
a) commissioned
b) contracted
c) opened

8. Our party is only fighting ……..; it can never win in this


state.
a) a lost battle
b) a losing battle
c) a loss battle

9. Never mind, ……..


a) nobody above mistake
b) we all make mistakes
c) nobody is above mistakes

10. We were all disqualified; our scores were …….. the mark
a) wide of
b) wide off
c) wide off of
6

11. I’m not surprised at his conduct; you know, he’s a ……..
the old block.
a) chip of
b) chip off
c) chimp of

12. I have disowned my three sons. I can’t have any ……..


under my roof.
a) ruffians
b) roughians
c) rouffians

13. All my ……….. are in one shady business or another.


a) brother-in-laws
b) brothers-in-law
c) brothers-in-laws

14. The Manager gave all of us ………..


a) twenty thousand naira per each person
b) twenty-twenty thousand naira each
c) twenty thousand naira each

15. Have you ever ………. for anyone?


a) babysit
b) babysitted
c) babysat

16. Okay, let’s shake hands and ………..


a) let bygone be bygone
b) let bye-gone be bye-gone
c) let bygones be bygones
7

17. ……….. Chief Patrick Jabber the First.


a) My names are
b) My name is
c) What’s my name is

18. I’m told your husband is the …….. behind the Boko
Haram.
(a) brains
(b) brain
(c) brain box

19. Sir, I think ‘paddle your own canoe’ means ‘……..’


(a) don’t meddle with anyone else’s business
(b) provide what you need by yourself
(c) don’t pokenose

20. Stop blaming your boss; the reason you were sacked is
…….. Think about it, how could you …….. into the MD’s
office like that?
(a) not so far-fetched / badge
(b) self-evident / barge
(c) too apparent / bardge

21. Have you heard? Our friend has …….. to APC.


(a) decamped
(b) cross-carpeted
(c) defected

22. …….., ……, nobody in this office has ever been dismissed
for bad English.
(a) I stand to be corrected /As at today
(b) I stand corrected /As of now
(c) Correct me if I’m wrong /As of today
8

23. Pastor: Brothers and sisters, our God is ……...


(a) ominiscience
(b) a reknown god
(c) omniscient

24. Darling, have you …….. a little time?


(a) got
(b) gotten
(c) get

25. Weren’t you …….. some minutes ago?


(a) on casual wear
(b) on casuals
(c) in casual clothes

26. He confirmed that my wife had not been …….…


(a) sexed before
(b) disvirgined
(c) deflowered

27. ……….., the goods will be here tomorrow.


(a) Rest assured
(b) Be rest assured
(c) You can be rest assured

28. Waiter : Sir, would you like some coffee?


Guest : ........
(a) No, thanks.
(b) I prefer beverage.
(c) At all.
9

29. The mechanic says the carburettor is …..…..


(a) overfloating
(b) doing overfloating
(c) flooding

30. I was greatly ........ last night when I saw my wife kissing
the gardener.
(a) embarased
(b) embarrassed
(c) embarassed

31. I hadn’t even ........ the last bottle of beer when my wife
came into the pub.
(a) drank
(b) dranked
(c) drunk

32. ……….. are too large for my face; I need to replace


………..
(a) this frame / it
(b) these frames / it
(c) these frames / them

33. I promise to repay the loan ........


(a) small small
(b) in instalments
(c) instalmentally

34. We’re suing the FG for not giving us …….. water.


(a) pottable
(b) portable
(c) potable
10

35. The lawyer will need to …… his time if he hopes to catch


the witness …....
(a) bid / telling lies
(b) bide / lying
(c) bead / lyeing

36. Let’s ask that lunatic; she knows …….. of the town.
(a) the ins and outs
(b) the nooks and corners
(c) the in and out

37. The new law will enable Nigerians ……….. to other


countries more easily.
(a) travelling
(b) travel
(c) to travel

38. I visited his office ...... but he wasn’t there.


(a) severally
(b) numerous times
(c) over one time

39. Your hair looks ……..; you need to ………..


(a) unkept / barb it
(b) unkempt / have a haircut
(c) unkept / barb

40. Please type the letter on the company’s ……..


(a) letterheading
(b) letterheaded paper
(c) letterhead
11

41. A toast to the Authorities for this programme ……..


(a) Hip, Hip, Hip, Hurray!
(b) Hip, Hip, Hurray!
(c) E.P.P. Hurray!

42. You’d best stay with your husband and forget that
neighbour. As they say, ………..
a) the devil you know is better than the angel you
don’t know
b) choose the devil you know and not the angel
c) better the devil you know than the devil you don’t

43. If the topic isn’t clear to you, ask the teacher to ………..
on it.
a) expanciate
b) expantiate
c) expatiate

44. ……….. last week, it was reported that the man fell out of
his chair and broke his neck.
(a) Sometimes
(b) Sometime
(c) Some times

45. Madam, shall I get you some salad or ……… ?


(a) cold slaw
(b) coleslaw
(c) Cole’s law
12

46. ………, do you think I should leave my husband and


elope with the houseboy?
a) Between I and you
b) Between you and I
c) Between you and me

47. ………, I wonder if life in this country is really worth


anyone’s while.
a) Many a time
b) Many a times
c) Many at times

48. All you ever do in this office is gossip: ……… did such
and such.
a) so and so person
b) so so person
c) so and so

49. My house is within ……… from here.


a) a stone throw
b) a stone’s throw
c) stone throw

50. Your wife is so happy. She seems to have life handed to


her ........
a) on a silver platter
b) on a gold platter
c) on a platter of gold

51. No one could finish the food served at the party. In fact, it
was ........
a) an apology
b) apology
c) an apology for a meal
13

52. She’s determined to have a car this year ..........


a) by hook or crook
b) by hook or by crook
c) by hook and crook

53. General Koleoso has promised to defend the people ........


he can.
a) as best as
b) as best
c) as best as he possibly

54. Now she knows she’s ........ than she can chew.
a) beaten more
b) bitten more
c) bitten off more

55. As the teacher ........., if you want to pass the exam, you
must study hard.
a) mentioned earlier
b) mentioned earlier on
c) mentioned earlier before

56. The man won’t resign ........ he’s forced to do so, ........ since
he’s the MD’s son-in-law.
a) whereas / hence
b) unless / especially
c) except / more so

57. Jesus came to save sinners, ........ all of us.


a) which includes
b) who include
c) which and who include
14

58. This is the most ......... job I’ve ever had. There’s just no
room to enjoy oneself.
a) taxing
b) tasking
c) tackling

59. Dad says he’ll see you as soon as he’s ..........


a) opportuned
b) chanced
c) able to

60. Bayo told us that his wife ........ yesterday.


a) put to bed
b) born
c) was delivered of a baby

61. The foreman is a .......... He knows nothing about welfare.


a) a cog in the wheel of progress
b) sadist
c) wicked

62. Don’t do any business with that handsome guy; he’s a


........
a) dupe
b) duper
c) con artist

63. Teacher: We say a person was killed in cold blood if


..........?
a) he was killed in his sleep
b) his killer was not under any influence
c) the victim was unable to defend himself
15

64. The .......... for the dead man is this evening.


a) Christian wake-keep
b) wake-keeping
c) wake

65. She looks so gorgeous in her ......... dress.


a) lemon yellow
b) lemon green
c) lemon and green

66. Hello, ..........?


a) may I be on to the CEO
b) may I speak with the CEO
c) may I gain access to the CEO?

67. It looks rather primitive to put kola nuts on the ..........


a) centre table
b) central table
c) coffee table

68. None of us can go abroad without a valid ..........


a) international passport
b) passport
c) travelling passport

69. My neighbour’s husband eloped with the .......... two


weeks after the girl was employed.
a) home help
b) house help
c) domestic helper
16

70. I saw a dead ......... in the room.


a) gecko
b) wall gecko
c) house gecko

71. We’re going to make so much money that N50,000 will


look like .........
a) chicken change
b) chicken sauce
c) chicken feed

72. I usually hang out with friends at the ......... down the
street.
a) barber’s
b) barbing saloon
c) hair-port

73. What’s the meaning of this letter? Tell the secretary to see
me ..........
a) at once
b) in a jiffy
c) now now

74. This sort of thing cannot happen in this country; not by


.........
a) any manner or means
b) any manner and means
c) any manner of means

75. Ok, here’s my ......... Call me whenever you’re broke.


a) business card
b) complimentary card
c) call card
17

76. I didn’t need to get a lawyer; the police released me on


.........
a) personal recognition
b) my own recognition
c) my own recognizance

77. Amina, bring the ......... to dispose of these bits of tissue


paper.
a) dustpan
b) packing tool
c) packer

78. Someone has lost the key and mum is .......... at me.
a) giving me the finger
b) pointing accusing fingers
c) pointing an accusing finger

79. Now is the time for the government to evaluate these


..........
a) mushroom private universities
b) mushrooming private universities
c) private mushroom universities

80. I’m disappointed in you. You ....... so uncaring.


a) didn’t used to be
b) didn’t use to be
c) weren’t used to being

81. I need someone that can sing all the three stanzas of the
National Anthem ..........
a) offhead
b) offheart
c) by heart
18

82. The governor pleaded with us to consider the N25,000 as


..........
a) his widow’s mite
b) all he could contribute
c) free gift

83. Today is Monday. Let’s meet again on Wednesday; that’s


..........
a) two days’ time
b) next tomorrow
c) day after tomorrow

84. Her stepfather is only ......... years old!


a) twenty and half
b) twenty and the half
c) twenty and a half

85. In any quarrel between a husband and wife, it’s usually


..........
a) six and half a dozen
b) six of one and half a dozen of the other
c) six and half a dozen – what’s the difference

86. Shortly after the church ceremony, .......... quickly got into
their car and drove off.
a) the couple
b) the two couple
c) the couples
19

87. The company has to increase wages ..........


a) across board
b) across boards
c) across the board

88. The meeting will be held at the red house near the ..........
a) burial ground
b) symmetry
c) graveyard

89. ......., my father wanted me to marry a lady that lived in


that house.
a) Funnily enough
b) Funny enough
c) So funny enough

90. The UN expects the former leader to explain his country’s


foreign policy ..........
a) in details
b) in detailed
c) in detail

91. Sir, the MD would like you to give me ..........


a) a self-written note
b) a written note
c) a note

92. She woke up rather late. So, she quickly .......... and ran out
of the house.
a) dressed up
b) got dressed
c) got dressed up
20

93. The party is trying hard to keep its supporters within the
brackets of civility, .........
a) so to say
b) so to talk
c) so to speak

94. She has not been ......... with her mother for twenty years.
a) on talking terms
b) on chatting terms
c) on speaking terms

95. Olamide is a musician with real ..........


a) potentials
b) potentialities
c) potential

96. The former President ………. and told me about some of


the problems he was facing with the people around him.
a) took me into his confidence
b) took me to confidence
c) put me into confidence

97. The Principal is rather short tempered; so, ..........


whenever you’re with him.
a) be careful
b) take your time
c) take time

98. The driver leaned out of the window and shouted at the
lady, ………. twice, and drove on.
a) horned
b) pressed the horn
c) sounded his horn
21

99. When my father was in the army, his batman .......... his
shoes until the shoes ..........
a) shined / shone
b) shined / shined
c) shone / shone

100. The lady put some .......... in the teacher’s meal to make
him fall in love with her.
a) portion
b) potion
c) concussion

101. My .......... left yesterday, so I have to do all my cleaning


myself.
a) housegirl
b) housemaid
c) house servant

102. The bell had .......... ten times before we heard. The
teacher then brought out the register and ......... late-
comers names in red.
a) rang / rang
b) rung / ringed
c) ringed / ringed

103. Don’t run away with your servant; it’s not .......... at all.
a) dignifying
b) dignified
c) respective
22

104. To make your fingernails look good, you need .......... –


not your teeth.
a) a nail-cutter
b) a nail-trimmer
c) nail clippers

105. Alhaji Seriki could not enter the mosque to pray because
he had not done his .........
a) ablutions
b) ablution
c) motions

106. The manager walked into the office and ordered all of us
to ........
a) buckle down
b) buckle up
c) buckle

107. Thanks for your help. .......


a) Appreciate.
b) I appreciate.
c) I appreciate it.

108. Policeman: Are you ready to talk now?


Accused: I have been ready.........
a) since
b) since long time
c) all along
23

109. Within a year from now, I’ll be getting married to my


.........
a) heart-throb
b) sweetheart
c) hubby

110. It’s public knowledge that many of our politicians are


.........
a) indisciplined
b) under-disciplined
c) undisciplined

111. The new government is making .......... into corruption in


Nigeria.
a) a huge inroad
b) huge inroads
c) huge inroad

112. The former boss had trouble making .......... because of


the corruption among his key advisers.
a) headway
b) a headway
c) headways

113. The burial arrangements are ..........


a) as follow
b) as following
c) as follows

114. Soldiers, policemen, ………. were all called in to help


deal with the Boko Haram menace.
a) and the likes
b) and such likes
c) and the like
24

115. The discussion was on .......... like drugs, prostitution and


teenage pregnancy.
a) stuff
b) stuffs
c) cogent stuffs

116. Now, I want you all to recite ..........


a) the alphabets
b) the alphabet
c) all the alphabets

117. You need to buy .......... for that interview.


a) a brand new shoe
b) a new shoe
c) new shoes

118. Dear Sir,


Thank you for considering me for the post of Senior
Personal Assistant. As required, I will declare all bribes
from time to time.
..........,
Mr. Smart Alec

a) Yours faithfully
b) Yours obediently
c) Yours sincerely

119. I’m upset because, last week during the promotion


exercise, my boss …… me and promoted my assistant.
(a) sidetracked
(b) bypassed
(c) avoided
25

120. Josh: My father doesn’t like junk food any bit.


Janet: ..........
a) My father, too
b) My father doesn’t either
c) My father also

121. When asked how he treated his wife before she left him
for another man, he was ........
a) at a loss for words
b) lost for words
c) looking for what to say

122. We can’t appoint him as Chief Accountant. We all know


his .........
a) antecedents
b) past
c) precedents

123. There have been many such .......... in the past few weeks.
a) incidents
b) incidences
c) incidence

124. Many a politician in this country ........ what it takes to be


a leader.
a) don’t possess
b) lack
c) doesn’t have

125. We need to buy .......... for the bedroom.


a) light bulbs
b) fluorescent
c) globe
26

126. I’m not going to ....... over your claim to be my wife’s


lover.
a) take issue with you
b) join issues with you
c) joggle issues with you

127. Those robbers took away all my ..........


a) jewelleries
b) jewellery
c) gold jewelleries

128. You’ve acted very wickedly; so, don’t expect anyone to


.......... you on the issue.
a) side
b) take side with
c) side with

129. The landlord gave them all ........


a) quit notice
b) quitting notice
c) notice to quit

130. We’re inviting .......... to the party.


a) the entire staff
b) the entire members
c) the entire members of staff

131. Ghana beat us ten-nil. Nigeria’s goalkeeper on that ..........


was my grandfather.
a) fateful day
b) faithful day
c) fretful day
27

132. Without doubt, this city needs some ……


(a) uplift
(b) upliftment
(c) uplifting

133. Welcome to the party; let all the new members …… for a
few minutes.
(a) stand up
(b) be upstanding
(c) get up

134. Boss: Why isn’t your father here with you?


Man: My father ..........,sir.
a) is dead
b) has gone to glory
c) is late

135. The students will be given all the .......... they need.
a) stationaries
b) stationery
c) stationeries

136. The CEO couldn't …….. why all the staff resented him so
much.
a) fathom
b) fanthom
c) phantom

137. Our company is at ........ about the next marketing


strategy.
a) crossroads
b) a crossroads
c) a crossroad
28

138. His wife told us that his habitual ......... was affecting
their marriage.
a) pub crawl
b) night crawling
b) being a night crawler

139. We all knew that the governor was using .......... in order
not to be regarded as acting on impulse.
a) delaying tactics
b) delay tactics
c) delayed tactic

140. You’ve finished your homework and submitted it to the


teacher, ........
a) isn’t it?
b) didn’t you?
c) haven’t you?

141. The Federal Government should ........ for getting the


economy back on track.
a) beat its chest
b) beat it’s own chest
c) commend itself

142. Nigerians watched the election results with .......


a) wrapped attention
b) rapped intention
c) rapt interest

143. You may use the ........ after your meal.


a) handwash basin
b) washhand basin
c) washbasin
29

144. I think you should give your husband ......... He may not
be dating his secretary.
a) benefit of doubt
b) the benefit of doubt
c) the benefit of the doubt

145. The driver was stopped by the police because his car had
no ........
a) plate number
b) number plate
c) licence plate number

146. If you say such a thing to your husband, you’ll be ........ ,


giving him grounds for divorce.
a) serving into his hand
b) playing into his hand
c) serving into his net

147. ........, your husband died last week.


a) Less I forget
b) Let’s I forget
c) Lest I forget

148. In his speech, the Chairman implored the President to do


more for the nation, and not to ........
a) rest on his oars
b) rest on his laurels
c) rest on his trophies

149. The loan will be repaid …….


a) as at when due
b) as or when due
c) as and when due
30

150. Where’s the toilet? I’d like to ........ myself.


a) ease
b) relieve
c) lighten

151. We built a fence around the flowers so that no one would


........ them.
a) mash
b) march
c) trample on

152. What he did quite convinced everybody. You know........


a) action speaks louder than voice
b) actions speak louder than words
c) acting speaks louder than speaking

153. The manager was fired over allegations of ……..


a) job for his boys
b) jobs for the boys
c) job for the boys

154. Presenter: Thanks for honouring our invitation, Hon.


Commissioner. Well, ........
a) any parting shots?
b) any parting remarks?
c) any parting shot?

155. Honestly, I’d love you to change your ....... to life.


a) I-don’t-care attitude
b) who-cares attitude
c) devil-may-care attitude

*Answers overleaf
31

Answers

1. C 32. C 63. B 94. C


2. C 33. B 64. C 95. C
3. A 34. C 65. A 96. A
4. B 35. B 66. B 97. A
5. A 36. A 67. C 98. C
6. A 37. C 68. B 99. A
7. C 38. B 69. A 100. B
8. B 39. B 70. A 101. B
9. B 40. C 71. C 102. B
10. A 41. B 72. A 103. B
11. B 42. C 73. A 104. C
12. A 43. C 74. C 105. A
13. B 44. B 75. A 106. A
14. C 45. B 76. C 107. C
15. C 46. C 77. A 108. C
16. C 47. A 78. C 109. B
17. B 48. C 79. B 110. C
18. A 49. B 80. B 111. B
19. B 50. A 81. C 112. A
20. B 51. C 82. B 113. C
21. C 52. B 83. A 114. C
22. C 53. B 84. C 115. A
23. C 54. C 85. B 116. B
24. A 55. A 86. A 117. C
25. C 56. B 87. C 118. A
26. C 57. A 88. C 119. B
27. A 58. A 89. A 120. B
28. A 59. C 90. C 121. A
29. C 60. C 91. C 122. B
30. B 61. B 92. B 123. A
31. C 62. C 93. C 124. C
32

125. A 133. A 141. C 149. C


126. A 134. A 142. C 150. B
127. B 135. B 143. C 151. C
128. C 136. A 144. C 152. B
129. C 137. B 145. B 153. B
130. A 138. A 146. B 154. B
131. A 139. A 147. C 155. C
132. A 140. C 148. B
33

Item 2

English at Play

Introduction

Proudly Presenting English At Play


Primarily Penned for Purposeful Perusal,
with no Pejorative Potential against
Personalities; Principally a Positive
Project with the Plan to Pinpoint the
Place and Power of Plain and Peculiar
Pun Produced through Penmanship, for
the Pleasure of Populations, and
Particularly for the Purposes of Pleasing
(never Perplexing) Persons -- Probably
Pointless and not Palatable to Pedants
and Purists, but Profitable for Pastors,
Pagans, Professors, Pen-pushers,
Presidents, and Politicians - regardless of
their Political Parties.
34

1.
Sàláwà: The doctor said you raised a false alarm about
Toyin having a compound fracture last night.
Sàláwù: But she did have a fracture!
Sàláwà: Yes, but wasn’t it a minor fracture?
Sàláwù: Well, yes; but it happened within the compound.
That’s why I called it compound fracture.

2.
Sàláwà: The economics teacher said today the country
runs a free market economy.
Sàláwù: That’s good news. Means we’ll get all things
free in the market.

3.
Sàláwà: The teacher sent you back home?
Sàláwù: Yes, for misuse of language. He asked me why
I got to school late, and I told him it was a
moving story. He misunderstood me that
somebody died or something.
Sàláwà: Yes. Wasn’t that your meaning?
Sàláwù: No. I meant that because in the last two
months we’ve had to move house about five
times, it’s now difficult for me to get to school
early. In annoyance, he sent me out of the
class.
Sàláwà: Now, that is the moving part of everything.
35

4.
Sàláwà: How did your parents meet?
Sàláwù: By appointment.
Sàláwà: I don’t understand.
Sàláwù: Well, they both got appointed to serve on the
same Board some years ago. And then they
fell in love…

5.
Sàláwù: They say pretty girls are disappearing
gradually.
Sàláwà: And what’s that got to do with me?
Sàláwù: I’ve been observing you for several weeks now
and you’ve NOT started to disappear. After
all, you’re pretty, too.

6.
Sàláwà: By the way, do you have any distant relations?
Sàláwù: Dumb question. But you know my parents live
far away in Australia.

7.
Sàláwà: Have you any close friends?
Sàláwù: Yes. I have about twenty here alone – they all
live in this Close.

8.
Sàláwà: Tell me, Sàláwù, when were you born?
Sàláwù: Some time after my mother went into labour.
36

9.
Sàláwà: Let’s play rhyme-
Sàláwù: Don’t waste my time.
Sàláwà: It’s just for fun, you know.
Sàláwù: Please, please, I said ‘No’.
Sàláwà: Come on, be a good sport.
Sàláwù: You said what?
Sàláwà: Rhyme shows you’re bright
Sàláwù: Yeah, right!
Sàláwà: Why are you so hard to sway?
Sàláwù: Funny! You just like to have your way.
Sàláwà: Ok, what would you rather we did?
Sàláwù: Did you say ‘we’? Hm, ‘we’ indeed!
Sàláwà: But there’s just two of us here-
Sàláwù: Listen, if you can hear:
I’m not interested in play on words
Even if you pierce me with a hundred swords!
Sàláwà: Well, then, I have to let you be.
Sàláwù: About time, Madam Busybody.
Sàláwà: You’ve given me so many rhymes already-
Sàláwù: I insist, I’m not ready!

10.
Sàláwà: Our teacher has a sweet tooth.
Sàláwù: So you finally kissed him, or how else could
you know that?
37

11.
Sàláwà: The General is such a complex figure. On one
hand he is a good father, on the other hand …
Sàláwù: (Interrupting) Ssh. He has only one hand. He
lost the other during the civil war.

12.
Sàláwà: I like Mr. Timilehin’s way of life. He puts all his
problems behind him.
Sàláwù: Oh, I see. No wonder he is a hunchback.

13.
Sàláwà: I hear the Chairman of the Board of Enquiry has
conjunctivitis.
Sàláwù: Good. That’ll keep his eyes out of other people’s
business.

14.
Sàláwà: My uncle is getting a new set of false teeth
tomorrow.
Sàláwù: That explains it! I’ve always wondered why
such a man utters so much falsehood.

15.
Sàláwà: Why did your English Teacher think you’re not
a serious student?
Sàláwù: He asked me to tell the class the meaning of
tautology.
Sàláwà: That’s a hard one, isn’t it?
38

Sàláwù: Not quite. I’d seen it somewhere before, so I


told him, “when someone repeats himself in
speech”.
Sàláwà: But why wasn’t he pleased with you?
Sàláwù: He asked for an example and I said, ‘call a
spade a spade’

16.
Sàláwù: Last weekend was my most thrilling!
Sàláwà: Oh yeah? Tell me all about it.
Sàláwù: Abiba came and she went away with two.
Kafilatu had hers too, two times. Then Kofo
and Kudi one each at one go…
Sàláwà: Do stop it. That’s promiscuous.
Sàláwù: What? To beat people at chess?

17.
Sàláwà: You’re so mean. You didn’t even express any
apology for losing my book.
Sàláwù: I’m sorry, I don’t apologize to people.

18.
Sàláwà: I hear the teacher sent you back home again
today. What’s with you and him?
Sàláwù: He hates sincerity, that’s what.
Sàláwà: How so?
Sàláwù: Today, he asked me what I’d do at a time of
great economic recession when the propensity
to consume is high.
Sàláwà: Yes?
Sàláwù: I said I would not consume propensity.
39

19.
Sàláwù: I hate that civics teacher.
Sàláwà: But he’s so personable.
Sàláwù: I hate him, anyway. He’s too proud. Proud of
his family, proud of his relations, proud of this
country, proud to be black. Any you know how
I hate proud people.

20.
Sàláwù: The biology teacher is on the side of the English
teacher.
Sàláwà: Did he send you out of the class?
Sàláwù: You bet! He asked me what’s ‘rhythm method’
and I gave him the most sensible answer I could
think of.
Sàláwà: What ‘s that?
Sàláwù: ‘Listening to music during love making’

21.
Sàláwà: Oh, Sàláwù. This place is lovely. But why do
you have so many birds in the passage? Why
not put them in cages on the balcony?
Sàláwù: No, that’s not ideal.
Sàláwà: Why not?
Sàláwù: These are birds of passage.
40

22.
Sàláwù: Sàláwà, thanks for offering to wash my clothes.
Sàláwà: Oh, it’s nothing.
Sàláwù: However, I hope you will still help to iron them.
After all, one good turn deserves another.

23.
Sàláwà: The doctors were surprised during the
operation when they cut up the small boy.
Sàláwù: Why?
Sàláwà: They found two tea-spoons in him.
Sàláwù: The boy’s parents are to blame. I once
overheard their neighbour telling them to stop
spoon-feeding him.

24.
Sàláwà: Sàláwù, but your uncle is so wicked!
Sàláwù: What makes you think so?
Sàláwà: He claims he loves his wife, yet he can’t help
her to dye her hair.
Sàláwù: Perhaps his is an undyeing love.

25.
Sàláwà: And why is your uncle so stingy?
Sàláwù: A hive of bees fell on him when he was five.
When bees sting you, don’t you become stingy?
41

26.
Sàláwà: Your aunt told me you nearly drove her crazy
when she took you out some days ago.
Sàláwù: I’ve always known she’s a liar; the whole world
knows I can’t drive yet.

27.
Sàláwà: Let me test your knowledge of current affairs.
Who’s the new Speaker of the House?
Sàláwù: There can’t be another. It’s always been my
uncle’s wife – she does all the talking.

28.
Sàláwà: My father is planning to open a fish depot.
Sàláwù: Didn’t the government promulgate a decree last
week against fishy businesses?

29.
Sàláwà: All my aunts are small.
Sàláwù: All ants are small, whether they’re yours or
somebody else’s.

30.
Sàláwà: Hey, Sàláwù! This is peculiar – eating with your
toes!
Sàláwù: Any why won’t I? My parents would tell you not
to live from hand to mouth.
42

31.
Sàláwà: The governor gave Mr. Adalemọ an award for the
concrete decisions he made during last year’s
crisis.
Sàláwù: Well? Naturally, as a bricklayer, he has to make
concrete decisions!

32.
Sàláwà: My grandfather is uneducated.
Sàláwù: That’s curious. He was first educated, then un-
educated. How did he do it?

33.
Sàláwà: The Arabic teacher and his people speak a rather
strange language.
Sàláwù: Glad you’ve noticed. How do they understand
one another? If I spoke that language, I wouldn’t
understand a word of it.

34.
Sàláwà: So the teacher sent you back home again today?
Sàláwù: I think he simply hates me.
Sàláwà: What happened today?
Sàláwù: I took a maths problem to him during break but
he asked me to come back later. He said he’d like
to rest.
Sàláwà: No harm in that, is there?
Sàláwù: No. But he got furious when I asked him to rest
in perfect peace.
43

35.
Sàláwà: (yawning) Well, Sàláwù, I’ve got to go to bed.
Sàláwù: I agree with you. The bed can’t come to anyone!

36.
Sàláwà: Don’t tell me the teacher sent you home today of
all days!
Sàláwù: No. I quit by myself.
Sàláwà: Are you crazy?
Sàláwù: Oh, Not at all. I just read somewhere that by
education many have been led astray.
Sàláwà: Says who?
Sàláwù: John Dryden.

37.
Sàláwà: Did you make a record of all your expenses
during the last holiday?
Sàláwù: Record? The studio manager kicked me out
during the rehearsals.

38.
Sàláwà: What does your watch say?
Sàláwù: It doesn’t even make any sound- it’s a quartz
watch.
44

39.
Sàláwù: I always say that teacher is an illiterate. He can’t
even do simple equations.
Sàláwà: Pardon?
Sàláwù: I asked him to prove that x = 3 and he was staring
at me.
Sàláwà: But there is an unknown factor without which no
one can do much.
Sàláwù: Agreed. But as the teacher, he should know that
unknown factor.

40.
Sàláwà: Let’s pray and say good night.
Sàláwù: Good. O Lord, you know we’re meek; please let
us inherit the world, according to Thy word.

41.
Sàláwà: Back home so soon? Again? Don’t tell me it’s the
English teacher.
Sàláwù: Can’t be anyone else. The fool asked me who I’d
call a man of parts.
Sàláwà: And?
Sàláwù: I said anyone that sells motor spare parts.

42.
Sàláwà: Ah? Will you ever stay in school to receive any
education? Surely it’s not that same teacher?
Sàláwù: You bet!
Sàláwà: Okay, let’s have it.
45

Sàláwù: We were doing word-study. He asked me what


‘eunuch’ means.
Sàláwà: Certainly anyone knows that.
Sàláwù: He doesn’t share that view.
Sàláwà: So, what’d you tell him?
Sàláwù: I told him a eunuch is one who cannot rise to
the occasion.

43.
Sàláwà: What’s your opinion of suicide?
Sàláwù: I think it should carry the death penalty.

44.
Sàláwà: You know what? My uncle went on a course in
Engineering last week.
Sàláwù: What’s news about that?
Sàláwà: He crashed four of the company’s cars in that
one week!
Sàláwù: Not too surprising. What kind of programme
did they run?
Sàláwà: It was a crash programme.
Sàláwù: So, why fret?

45.
Sàláwà: Next time you’re sent home. I’ll not listen to
your excuse.
Sàláwù: But I’m innocent this time.
Sàláwà: So, what happened today?
46

Sàláwù: A student came late and gave the excuse that


his parents were having a slight quarrel that
kept him back a bit.
Sàláwà: But how did the punishment become yours?
Sàláwù: The teacher was not convinced about the
excuse, and he wanted a second opinion. He
asked me, “Sàláwù, how d’you see that?”
Sàláwà: Surely you didn’t see it?
Sàláwù: Exactly. I simply said, “Sorry, Sir, I don’t live
with them; so I couldn’t have seen anything.”
Quickly, he showed me the door.

46.
Sàláwù: I hate people that quote other people to support
their views. They can’t be said to have their
own original ideas.
Sàláwà: I think you’re right. According to Hua Yu, a
Chinese sage, “it shows that such people have
nothing of their own to say.”

47.
Sàláwà: How many letters does LOVE have?
Sàláwù: It depends on how many letters the lovers can
write.

48.
Sàláwà: I think I have to get used to your being sent
home daily.
Sàláwù: Frankly, I’m confused. Dad always advises me
to read my books.
Sàláwà: Good for him. But …
47

Sàláwù: I know you’d ask. The teacher brought out


some books and distributed them to the class
to read from.
Sàláwà: And then?
Sàláwù: He noticed I wasn’t reading. He asked and I
told him my father always insists that I read
my books. I guess he must have felt bad.
Anyway, now I’m home.

49.
Sàláwà: I knew you’d soon be back.
Sàláwù: I took the initiative today. I wouldn’t wait for
him to send me back home.
50.
Sàláwà: I thought you’d at least learn some French
today; after all, the French teacher likes you.
Sàláwù: Yes, he does. I must have mixed up my
grammar lessons.
Sàláwà: How?
Sàláwù: I know we don’t go to school during Christmas
holidays, Easter holidays, National holidays,
etc.
Sàláwà: But today is no holiday.
Sàláwù: I didn’t know. What does ‘French holiday’
mean?

51.
Sàláwà: How did the launch go?
Sàláwù: It was excellent.
Sàláwà: What? Why do you have so much money in
your mouth?
Sàláwù: Simple. The Chief Launcher enjoined all of us to
“put our money where our mouth is”.
48

52.
Sàláwà: Now, Sàláwù. Did you know that a woman
invented the teaspoon?
Sàláwù: I used to think it was man-made.

53.
Sàláwà: Do you know you’re making an exhibition of
yourself? Why are you falling up and down the
street?
Sàláwù: I learnt a new thing in school today.
Sàláwà: And what’s that?
Sàláwù: “Throwing one’s weight around”.

54.
Sàláwù: I don’t think I’m eating out today.
Sàláwà: What do you have against it?
Sàláwù: I hate people to watch me while I’m eating.
Sàláwà: And what’s wrong with that?
Sàláwù: Isn’t that what’s called ‘conspicuous
consumption’?

55.
Sàláwà: Y’know I forgot to ask why you were sent back
home yesterday.
Sàláwù: Same story, different composition.
Sàláwà: Interesting.
Sàláwù: As soon as he stepped in and I made ready to
leave the class – expecting him to show me the
way out – he said, ‘Sàláwù boy, you’re sitting
this out today’.
49

Sàláwà: Tough, wasn’t it?


Sàláwù: Well … I thought he meant I’d sit outside for
this teacher’s displeasure with me. He ordered
me home at once.

56.
Sàláwù: I like the new Engineering teacher.
Sàláwà: That’s very strange, you liking any teacher.
Sàláwù: Oh, but this one is fit for the aspect he’s
teaching. I mean the guy is boring.
Sàláwà: And what aspect does he teach?
Sàláwù: BORING.

57.
Sàláwà: Is it true everyone counts in mathematics?
Sàláwù: Quite frankly, I don’t know; but I do know that
our Maths teacher does not matter in the school.
No one reckons with him. They say he doesn’t
count.

58.
Sàláwà: But do you go to school only to be sent back
home? Everyday? Why not simply stay home;
maybe they’ll change the pattern?
Sàláwù: That bloody teacher likes to pick on me.
Sàláwà: What’d you do today?
Sàláwù: I called him an average teacher.
Sàláwà: Why?
Sàláwù: He loves the word ‘average’. Everything he
talks about has ‘average’ in it: on the average,
50

the law of averages, the average man … So I


thought he must be an average teacher.

59.
Sàláwà: How was school today?
Sàláwù: Tragic and dramatic.
Sàláwà: I don’t believe it. But you were not sent back
home?
Sàláwù: I mean we learnt the concepts of tragedy and
drama.

60.
Sàláwà: Sàláwù, what are you doing walking beside a
snail?
Sàláwù: I’m trying to understand the meaning of an
English expression.
Sàláwà: What’s that?
Sàláwù: “At a snail’s pace”.

61.
Sàláwà: On the way home as usual. Don’t tell me it’s not
your fault this time?
Sàláwù: Don’t bet on it.
Sàláwà: Okay, maybe not yet.
Sàláwù: Right. He was teaching us idioms and there
was this one, I think “not to be sneezed at”,
which he said means, “not to be ignored” or
something. Later he said we’d have a test
tomorrow. I don’t remember what happened,
51

and I sneezed – it was pure reflex, you know.


He didn’t even think about it: “Out, Sàláwù”.
Sàláwà: (Sneezing) Sorry, pure reflex.

62.
Sàláwà: I saw you on Saturday being pursued by some
children. Were you playing hide-and-seek?
Sàláwù: Nope. I had just taken my tablets.
Sàláwà: Funny, that. Must you run about after
medication?
Sàláwù: Not exactly; but here, look at the instruction on
the pack.
Sàláwà: (Reading) “Keep out of the reach of children”.

63.
Sàláwà: Your uncle eats an apple a day. Is he under any
medication?
Sàláwù: No, but his landlord is a doctor.
Sàláwà: What’s that got to do with it?
Sàláwù: My uncle earns too little to pay his rent
regularly.
Sàláwà: Would an apple a day solve the problem?
Sàláwù: No, definitely. But it will keep the doctor away.
After all, “An apple a day”, they say, “keeps the
doctor away”.

64.
Sàláwà: Not again! On your birthday?
Sàláwù: He wouldn’t share that sentiment.
Sàláwà: But why send you back home on a day like this?
Sàláwù: He asked me where I was born and I told him in
the maternity ward.
52

65.
Sàláwà: Eh, Sàláwù. Could you help me with this
crossword?
Sàláwù: Sure thing.
Sàláwà: How’s electric current measured?
Sàláwù: Ampere.
Sàláwà: O yes, thanks. But how’s hard work measured?
Sàláwù: By dint, I guess.
Sàláwà: That won’t fit in here.
Sàláwù: But don’t people say something like “by dint of
hard work?

66.
Sàláwà: How come most people don’t have enough
strength to do much on Saturdays and
Sundays?
Sàláwù: May be that’s why that period is called the
weak-end.

66.
Sàláwà: So, how did your test go?
Sàláwù: At first I didn’t have much hope, but when I
told the teacher, he said something that
reassured me.
Sàláwà: Did he promise to give you another test?
Sàláwù: Something close to that. He said it was
‘remarkable’. Which I think means he might
mark the test a second time!
53

67.
Sàláwà: Sent back home as usual? This is not funny
anymore, y’know.
Sàláwù: It’s not my fault.
Sàláwà: It never is! What happened today?
Sàláwù: I broke the principal’s windscreen, and also the
teacher’s drinking glass by accident. While I
was trying to shut the window, I broke two
panes. Through sheer carelessness, when I was
leaving the classroom I fell down and broke my
right arm.
Sàláwà: Incredible! What time did all these happen?
Sàláwù: Break time.

68.
Sàláwà: Why do you always leave your music on when
you go to sleep?
Sàláwù: Just so I can have sound sleep.

69.
Sàláwà: Where have you been all day?
Sàláwù: Shopping for false teeth for my uncle.
Sàláwà: That shouldn’t have taken so much time, should
it?
Sàláwù: I couldn’t get genuine ones anywhere.
54

70.
Sàláwà: Soon, the Principal will ask you to stay home
permanently.
Sàláwù: This time, it’s due to sheer misunderstanding.
Sàláwà: Meaning?
Sàláwù: Obviously, the Bible Knowledge teacher did not
know I wasn’t in the class yet when the period
began. And, in any case, I was not attentive.
Suddenly, I just heard, “Carry your pallet and
walk. Yes, Sàláwù. I repeat, ‘Carry your pallet
and walk”.
Sàláwà: Was he performing a miracle on you?
Sàláwù: How the hell would I know? I simply obeyed
him.
Sàláwà: Without a question?
Sàláwù: Actually, I had left the class before I overheard
another student say, “But that’s a very cheap
context question. Jesus said it to the sick man in
the temple”.

71.
Sàláwà: Can I sue that shop-owner for charging me so
much for a used car battery?
Sàláwù: Why not?
Sàláwà: But what will I sue him for? What’ll be the
charge?
Sàláwù: Battery.
55

72.
Sàláwà: Those policemen have no respect for life.
They’ve been beating that man for eight hours.
Sàláwù: What’s their grouse?
Sàláwà: Who knows?
Sàláwù: Well, there could be a good reason for beating
him up.
Sàláwà: What senseless reason?
Sàláwù: They may be on the beat!

73.
Sàláwà: I hear your Principal was guest at your house
last weekend.
Sàláwù: Yes, but he left in displeasure.
Sàláwà: Why?
Sàláwù: On Saturday afternoon, he said he was very
tired and would like to rest for five hours.
Sàláwà: He wasn’t allowed?
Sàláwù: That’s not it. I told him to use the rest-room.

74.
Sàláwà: What are those canes for?
Sàláwù: Beating, why?
Sàláwà: To beat who?
Sàláwù: The eggs, of course; Mum said to beat them
very well before frying.
56

75.
Sàláwù: Er, Sàláwà, what’s the past form of ‘sweep’?
Sàláwà: Swept.
Sàláwù: Creep?
Sàláwà: Crept.
Sàláwù: Weep?
Sàláwà: Wept. Anything else?
Sàláwù: I should be able to manage it now, I guess.
Peep, bleep and so on shouldn’t be any problem.

76.
Sàláwà: Please give me a hand to put this bag of flour on
the shelf.
Sàláwù: I don’t think I want to do that.
Sàláwà: Why not?
Sàláwù: It should be able to go up there by itself.
Sàláwà: Don’t be ridiculous. Why did you say that?
Sàláwù: What type of flour is it?
Sàláwà: Self–raising.
Sàláwù: There you are.

77.
Sàláwà: Poor bastard, my uncle. He’s got a terrible flu.
Sàláwù: No surprise to me.
Sàláwà: That’s unkind of you.
Sàláwù: You’re mistaken. Flu goes down well with him.
Sàláwà: Why did you say so?
Sàláwù: Look here, isn’t he fluent, affluent and
influential?
57

78.
Sàláwà: I though school was beginning to go down well
with you.
Sàláwù: It’s the teacher’s fault this time.
Sàláwà: Oh yeah?
Sàláwù: He forgot he’d told us he liked to get stoned
every night.
Sàláwà: But it’s his problem if that’s his habit.
Sàláwù: Precisely. But last night I cast a few stones at
him on the street. And now, I’m back home.

79.
Sàláwà: You and ladies! Does AIDS mean anything to
you?
Sàláwù: Let me guess. Association of Industrial Data
Scientists.

80.
Sàláwà: Yes, why did you send for me?
Sàláwù: I’d like to discuss a key issue with you.
Sàláwà: Well, get on with it; I have chores to do.
Sàláwù: Yes, right away. I think I’ve lost the key to my
room.

81.
Sàláwà: News has it that the President has lost his mind.
This morning, my uncle lost both his parents.
58

Sàláwù: Very curious, everybody is losing valuable


possessions.
Sàláwà: I guess you’re right.
Sàláwù: Just yesterday, I lost a very dear friend.
Sàláwà: Oh, I’m sorry. But who’s this?
Sàláwù: My pet frog.

82.
Sàláwà: Why is your uncle so intolerant? He loses his
temper every minute.
Sàláwù: Maybe he thinks that’s the best way to get rid of
it.

83.
Sàláwù: Always watch what you say. In short, suit your
words to the situation.
Sàláwà: What d’you mean?
Sàláwù: I hate lies. Yesterday my grandfather had
diarrhoea. You told me he had bitten off more
than he could chew.
Sàláwà: Yes, I did.
Sàláwù: Good. I looked in his mouth this morning.
There’s not even one tooth in his mouth! And
how could a toothless man bite?

84.
Sàláwà: Alakẹ says you’re skeptical about her.
Sàláwù: Aren’t you?
Sàláwà: Well, why are you skeptical about Alakẹ?
Sàláwù: She wears false teeth …
59

Sàláwà: She wouldn’t if she could help it.


Sàláwù: I agree. What of her false eye-lashes? The
artificial hair? Those plastic fingernails? Her
unnatural gait? The affected manners? Her fake
accent …?
Sàláwà: But…
Sàláwù: You see, I always wonder: Does she have real
existence?

85.
Sàláwà: Which of them sent you back home today?
Sàláwù: The English teacher.
Sàláwà: Poor expression? Bad grammar? Wrong lexis?
What’s his reason?
Sàláwù: He asked three students the meaning of
‘careless’, ‘homeless’, ‘motherless’ and they
each replied, ‘without care’, ‘without a home’,
‘without a mother’.
Sàláwà: That’s correct.
Sàláwù: Then he asked me the meaning of ‘reckless’.
Sàláwà: And?
Sàláwù: I told him, ‘without wreck’!

86.
Sàláwà: Parrot. Mynah. Robin. Peacock. Finch. Canary.
How do all these help you in the exam? How do
they ensure your passing?
Sàláwù: Not the birds. It’s their feathers
Sàláwà: What of those?
Sàláwù: Not the feathers exactly.
Sàláwà: Then what?
60

Sàláwù: The colours.


Sàláwà: And what about them?
Sàláwù: Once I wear the colours to the exam, I’m going
to pass in flying colours.

87.
Sàláwà: In the U.K. they say everything stops for tea.
Sàláwù: It’s spreading to other parts of the world.
Sàláwà: Really?
Sàláwù: Of course, it is. When you’re driving, you look
very carefully at a T-junction; in Maths, you use
a T-square; people wear T-shirts; we’re
requested to cross out t’s; at the end of the day,
we’re invited to tea-parties. Really, everything
stops for tea!

88.
Sàláwà: Why my uncle talks foolishly?
Sàláwù: Makes me wonder all the time if he has the
right set of teeth.
Sàláwà: Teeth? Are you out of your mind?
Sàláwù: Does he have wisdom teeth?

89.
Sàláwà: I hear the doctor literally threw you out of the
clinic. What happened?
Sàláwù: Either the doctors are crazy or the government
does not know what’s what.
Sàláwà: Go on.
61

Sàláwù: I complained of dizziness and after their usual


prying into your eyes, mouth and other parts,
he handed me a packet of tablets.
Sàláwà: So?
Sàláwù: I rejected the damned thing.
Sàláwà: Why?
Sàláwù: Doesn’t the government advise us to say ‘no’ to
hard drugs?
Sàláwà: How did you know they were hard drugs?
Sàláwù: Here. See for yourself. Aye these tablets soft or
hard?

90.
Sàláwà: Guess what happened to the man that lives
across the street.
Sàláwù: You tell me.
Sàláwà: You won’t believe this. He was caught
breaking into a house.
Sàláwù: Is that all?
Sàláwà: No. They cut him up in half. Could you believe
that?
Sàláwù: Not surprising. He had always displayed a
split personality.

91.
Sàláwà: How’s the fever?
Sàláwù: Relenting.
Sàláwà: Okay. Now your medicines. No, no, no. just lie
there and open your mouth. No need to rise.
Sàláwù: Never! My family are very dignified people.
We don’t take things lying down.
62

92.
Sàláwà: Why did your auntie divorce her husband?
Sàláwù: He brought home two pets: a cat and a dog.
Sàláwà: That’s all?
Sàláwù: My auntie said she’d rather be divorced than
live a cat and dog life!

93.
Sàláwà: Do you stammer?
Sàláwù: On-nly w-when I t-talk.

94.
Sàláwà: This is a terrible neighbourhood.
Sàláwù: Why d’you say so?
Sàláwà: Everybody plays their music so loud. Can’t they
be more reasonable?
Sàláwù: Well, you’re wrong. Here, everybody sounds
off.

95.
Sàláwà: Why is your step mum so wicked? She does
only evil things. Why?
Sàláwù: I know the reason: she’s very rich
Sàláwà: I don’t understand.
Sàláwù: Well, don’t our people say money is the root of
all evil?
63

96.
Sàláwà: This is ridiculous.
Sàláwù: What?
Sàláwà: Sprinkling your bedding with granulated sugar
before going to bed. What’s the goal?
Sàláwù: Sweet dreams, of course.

97.
Sàláwù: What does your auntie do now? I mean, since
she quit teaching.
Sàláwà: She trades.
Sàláwù: That’s very fine. Where’s her shop?
Sàláwà: It’s by that big Bata Store.
Sàláwù: Now that’s curious.
Sàláwà: What?
Sàláwù: Isn’t that what’s called trade by barter?

98.
Sàláwà: (Chuckling) You and your teachers!
Sàláwù: He went farther than sending me back home
today. He called me stupid.
Sàláwà: Well?
Sàláwù: He was teaching us and there was a knock on
the door. He asked me to go and answer the
door.
Sàláwà: Not too much, if you ask me.
Sàláwù: I walked up to the door and said, “Yes door,
what’s your question?”
64

99.
Sàláwà: Oh no! Don’t tell me even the Sunday School
teacher hates you.
Sàláwù: Then why would he send me out in the middle
of a prayer? Why?
Sàláwà: Yes, if I may ask, why?
Sàláwù: He asked me to pray, and I prayed, “O Lord,
give me classy cars like those of Dino Melaye,
clothes like those of Van Husen, money like that
possessed by Dangote, the popularity of
Obama, the peace of mind of Job, wisdom like
Gandhi’s and your grace to shun covetousness”.

100.
Sàláwà: I dislike people that lisp.
Sàláwù: ‘Thame’ here.

101.
Sàláwà: Doesn’t anyone advise your uncle? I hear he has
18 wives and is planning to marry two more.
Sàláwù: I support him.
Sàláwà: How odd!
Sàláwù: Our people say ‘the more the merrier’.

102.
Sàláwù: I’m afraid I’ve got some difficulty with my
memory.
Sàláwà: What difficulty?
Sàláwù: I don’t remember things as easily as before.
65

Sàláwà: Don’t fret about that; it happens to everybody


from time to time.
Sàláwù: What are you talking about?

103.
Sàláwà: The pastor advised us to aim high.
Sàláwù: Anything wrong with that?
Sàláwà: Not at all; but what exactly should I do?
Sàláwù: Try cocaine. One sniff and the Kilimanjaro will
be a valley beside you.

104.
Sàláwà: What’s your opinion of people who hesitate
before they talk?
Sàláwù: Well, um, you see, I think they’re- how do I put
it- perhaps they’re not sure; well, can I say
they’re you know, well, I think they’re simply
not sure of what to say.

105.
Sàláwù: Some people I could shoot in the dark!
Sàláwà: I believe you. But who’s it?
Sàláwù: That Mr. Gani. He’s a headache.
Sàláwà: Oh, him? People say he’s heady and
headstrong. But he holds an important post.
Sàláwù: What’s that?
Sàláwà: He’s the Head of his department.
Sàláwù: Oh yeah? I think he should be beheaded.
66

106.
Sàláwà: Can I borrow N50 from you?
Sàláwù: Oh yes. Any time.
Sàláwà: (After a few seconds) Then give me, will you?
Sàláwù: I beg your pardon? You asked if you could
borrow N5000 from me, not if I could lend you
N5000.

107.
Sàláwà: What’s the best way to write ‘headache’?
Sàláwù: Depends, you know.
Sàláwà: Oh yeah?
Sàláwù: Right. If it’s just a knocking sensation, you
could write it as ‘headache’. But if it’s a splitting
one, you’ve got to improvise.
Sàláwà: What d’you mean?
Sàláwù: Write it with a hyphen! Split it. ‘Head-ache’.

108.
Sàláwà: Would you describe the new principal as more
sensible than the former one?
Sàláwù: No.
Sàláwà: Then, how would you describe him?
Sàláwù: I’d say this new one is less senseless.

109.
Sàláwà: Could you tell me how many days you’ve spent
in school this year.
Sàláwù: Every school day, precisely. But nearly all out
of the classroom.
67

110.
Sàláwà: And you’re on your way back home as usual?
Sàláwù: Today, I’m simply not to blame at all.
Sàláwà: You never are.
Sàláwù: But today, the Religious Knowledge teacher
claimed I swore. I denied it and he sent me out.
Sàláwà: But did you swear?
Sàláwù: Jesus Christ! What do you take me for? A liar?
You know I don’t swear, don’t you? God
knows, I don’t!

111.
Sàláwù: I hate the Administrative Officer like Satan
himself!
Sàláwà: Who doesn’t? They say he’s too bureaucratic.
Wants people to do things his way all the time.
Sàláwù: You’ve got the exact picture.
Sàláwà: What happened?
Sàláwù: I spelt ‘bureaucracy’ with a zed and he insisted
I correct the mistake or he would not treat my
problem!

112.
Sàláwà: I’ve just invented a new game. It’s called
‘Imagine’.
Sàláwù: That sounds like real fun. How’s it played?
Sàláwà: Simply imagining what people do. Like this:
Imagine you were a pastor. What would you
do for a living?
Sàláwù: Preach.
68

Sàláwà: Correct. Another one. Imagine you were made


the ruler of a country. How long would you
rule?
Sàláwù: That’s easy. Twelve inches!

113
Sàláwà: Why does your uncle make deliberate
grammatical mistakes?
Sàláwù: Give me an example.
Sàláwà: “Divide the apple into two equal halves”
Sàláwù: I guess he knows better.
Sàláwà: Won’t someone advise him lest the thing should
become a part of him?
Sàláwù: My mom did advise him once but he yawned at
it.
Sàláwà: What did he say?
Sàláwù: That it’s deliberate and that he could never
make such ‘blunder mistakes’ in public.

114.
Sàláwù: One of the first things my relatives learn is
truth.
Sàláwà: Beg your pardon?
Sàláwù: Because truth is relative.
69

115.
Sàláwà: What’s happening? I thought you’d at least go
to school before you were sent back home.
Sàláwù: Yeah right!
Sàláwà: Well, what are you doing sprawled out on the
carpet and sipping lemonade?
Sàláwù: Er, well, I’m feeling at home today.

116.
Sàláwà: I’ve noticed that nearly everybody argues over
the most unimportant things, even when there’s
no need for argument.
Sàláwù: You’ll need to convince me about that. I mean,
such a fact has to be properly debated.

117.
Sàláwà: What? Won’t you bless the food before eating
it?
Sàláwù: No. I hate wasting food.
Sàláwà: How?
Sàláwù: If I bless it, it will be too much for me to finish.
70

118.
Sàláwà: Why are you buying the same kind of gift for
your parents?
Sàláwù: I know I should buy my father a pair of shoes
and my mum a gold chain. But I won’t. I’d
rather buy them both wallets.
Sàláwà: But why?
Sàláwù: If I buy my mum an expensive gold chain, my
father’ll be cross. He’ll react if I don’t buy him a
chain, too. And I don’t want to cause a chain
reaction.

119.
Sàláwà: Why did your school not employ the guard?
Sàláwù: He failed the interview.
Sàláwà: What happened?
Sàláwù: They asked him if he could speak, English and
he answered, ‘yes, many’.

120.
Sàláwà: You’re not going to school today?
Sàláwù: Nope!
Sàláwà: I thought you’d get to school before you’re sent
back home.
Sàláwù: Well, the time-table for today reads ‘Home
Studies’.
71

121.
Sàláwà: Back home as usual?
Sàláwù: Seems there’s not much I can do to please my
teachers.
Sàláwà: Who is it this time?
Sàláwù: The English teacher. He asked me, who do
people refer to as ‘the late’?
Sàláwà: But that’s easy enough.
Sàláwù: If it were, I’d be in school now.
Sàláwà: Well, what’d you tell him?
Sàláwù: I told him, ‘someone who ought to have died
sooner’.

122.
Sàláwà: I’m yet to see another like your uncle!
Sàláwù: What’s it this time?
Sàláwà: I asked him for N100 last week and he sneezed
at it! And to think that he had about N 5,000
which he had just received on the day!
Sàláwù: His salary?
Sàláwà: Yes, of course.
Sàláwù: Where was he taking the money?
Sàláwà: Home as usual.
Sàláwù: So why fret? That’s why it’s called take-home
pay.

123.
Sàláwà: Amazing!
Sàláwù: What is?
Sàláwà: That man’s right hand. Do you notice it’s much
too short, compared to the left?
72

Sàláwù: Well, something may be responsible for it.


Sàláwà: Like what?
Sàláwù: His job, perhaps. May be he writes too much
shorthand!

124.
Sàláwà: I hear the Principal is considering expelling you
from the school?
Sàláwù: That’s a tough one, don’t you think?
Sàláwà: I hope for you it’s not true.
Sàláwù: True as you and I are two.
Sàláwà: The story – let’s have it.
Sàláwù: During the long break, some students usually
bring out Houdini’s Book of Magic and practise
a few funny tricks. Last week they tried
something big: they cut up one of the students
and couldn’t sew him up again.
Sàláwà: Are you kidding?
Sàláwù: The principal only luckily managed to get him
to the hospital in time.
Sàláwà: Then?
Sàláwù: Then the warning that whoever practised any
magic again would be expelled and handed
over to the police.
Sàláwà: And you did?
Sàláwù: You know I didn’t. I was merely hung on the
M-Net Jingle – you know it: ‘We won’t stop the
magic’ – and that did it!

125.
Sàláwà: Let’s play on words.
Sàláwù: Which ones, the words we speak or the wards
pregnant people go to have babies?
73

126.
Sàláwà: Home again? Now don’t tell me the quiz master
hates you. He doesn’t even know you, you
know.
Sàláwù: Yes, I know. But there’s a need for these older
folks to see things our way, isn’t there?
Sàláwà: I’ll decide on that soon. What happened at the
intercollegiate contest?
Sàláwù: It was an economics question. The quiz master
asked me, ‘what is an open market?’
Sàláwà: Surely, that’s ABC for anyone.
Sàláwù: Exactly. But, old folks!
Sàláwà: Don’t judge yet. What answer did you give
him?
Sàláwù: I said, ‘a market without doors and windows’.

127.
Sàláwà: Did the teachers hate you for your performance
at the quiz?
Sàláwù: If they didn’t I should be in school at this hour,
remember?
Sàláwà: Oh, so they sent you out?
Sàláwù: What did you expect?
Sàláwà: How’d they do it?
Sàláwù: One of them followed up on the quiz question
and asked me an example of ‘open market’
Sàláwà: Interesting.
Sàláwù: I told him, ‘street trading’.
74

128.
Sàláwà: I’ve been thinking. You need to practise a lot
before going for quiz contests. Do you agree?
Sàláwù: Absolutely.
Sàláwà: So let’s try some verbal aptitude tests.
Sàláwù: Okay.
Sàláwà: What do you call a person that helps the poor,
the needy and the hopeless?
Sàláwù: Easy, that. A philanthropist.
Sàláwà: Good. One that hates women?
Sàláwù: A misogynist. These are easy things. Don’t you
have any that could put one to the test?
Sàláwà: Alright. What’s one that asks too many
questions?
Sàláwù: A questionable character.

129.
Sàláwà: Let’s practise a little more today. Be sure to do
better than yesterday.
Sàláwù: Ok.
Sàláwà: General knowledge. Name two subjects in
Actuarial Science.
Sàláwù: Business Administration and Finance.
Sàláwà: Good. The greatest sea disaster in history?
Sàláwù: The Titanic.
Sàláwà: Excellent. I bet you’ll top the contest next week.
Now the last question. Name any two writers
you know.
Sàláwù: Letter-writer, Script-writer.
75

130.
Sàláwà: Home sweet home!
Sàláwù: Well, what can I do when whatever I say sends
me back home every day?
Sàláwà: Shall we have the day’s story, then?
Sàláwù: The idiot was …
Sàláwà: Don’t judge yet; let’s just have your story.
Sàláwù: He was teaching us the differences between
serious and popular news reporting. At a point,
he asked me what I’d call it if a reporter was
wearing bikini and was reporting from the
beach.
Sàláwà: That’s informal or popular reporting, or what
did you call it?
Sàláwù: Then, he’s not an idiot. I said it would be
regarded as ‘News in Briefs’.

131.
Sàláwà: Let me test your knowledge of military strategy.
Sàláwù: Right
Sàláwà: You were the Head of State of an African
country at war. Your majors all suddenly died
in a plane crash, and your few generals could
not fight anymore. How would you describe
the problem to the nation?
Sàláwù: I’d call it a major disaster and a general
problem.
76

132.
Sàláwà: If I were your mum, I’d take you back to school
and demand why they’d never let you learn
even for a day!
Sàláwù: It’s no use. Those teachers have no hope in me.
They say I could never get anything right.
Sàláwà: But that’s not true at all.
Sàláwù: I told them exactly that. Then one of them said
to put me to the test.
Sàláwà: Good enough.
Sàláwù: He asked me to spell the word ‘Right’.
Sàláwà: Even a fool would get that right.
Sàláwù: They all laughed at my answer.
Sàláwà: What was it?
Sàláwù: R-I-H-G-T.

133.
Sàláwà: Did you go to see the execution?
Sàláwù: Who on earth would miss such a spectacle?
Sàláwà: Oh dear me! Well, they say one of the armed
robbers stole the show?
Sàláwù: Yes, he did. Five minutes before he was
executed, he requested a microphone from one
of the press guys and broke into a song.
Sàláwà: What song?
Sàláwù: Jim Reeves’s “This world is not my home, I am
just passing through; my treasures are laid up,
somewhere beyond the blue; Angels beckon me
from Heavens open door, and I can’t feel at
home, in this world anymore”.
77

134.
Sàláwà: What do you think of copyright laws?
Sàláwù: You know I hate them.
Sàláwà: Why ?
Sàláwù: Why? Since when did stealing the show become
a crime?

135.
Sàláwà: Why, I stood close to your uncle yesterday and
he reeked of booze like mad!
Sàláwù: No surprise to me.
Sàláwà: Why not?
Sàláwù: This is the time for him to drink as much as his
bladder can contain.
Sàláwà: How so?
Sàláwù: He’s just passed his law exams.
Sàláwà: And so?
Sàláwù: He’s been called to the Bar!

136.
Sàláwà: Oh, my poor auntie!
Sàláwù: Don’t say she’s dead?
Sàláwà: No, But…
Sàláwù: Thank Heavens! So, what happened?
Sàláwà: Her marriage is collapsing.
Sàláwù: Pity. What happened?
Sàláwà: She and her husband don’t see eye to eye
Sàláwù: Everybody could see that before they got
married.
78

Sàláwà: I don’t believe you!


Sàláwù: But did you ever expect them to see eye to eye?
Sàláwà: Why not?
Sàláwù: But don’t you see how tall one is and how short
the other?

137.
Sàláwà: Eh, Sàláwù let’s play rhyme.
Sàláwù: No, not this time.
Sàláwà: Why not?
Sàláwù: What?
Sàláwà: Don’t you want to talk?
Sàláwù: Sàláwà, please take a walk.
Sàláwà: But can’t we do one simple rhyme?
Sàláwù: I said, not this time!
Sàláwà: But rhyme’s a piece of cake?
Sàláwù: Whatever form it likes, let it take.
Sàláwà: If you’re not interested, it’s okay.
Sàláwù: Thanks. Just get out of my way.

138.
Sàláwà: Gee! You eat so much I envy your appetite.
Sàláwù: It’s God’s blessing.
Sàláwà: I quite agree with you, but if I ate like that for
one week I’d be like a tub overnight.
Sàláwù: I bet you’re right.
Sàláwà: By the way, what do you hope to study?
Sàláwù: Astronomy.
Sàláwà: Wrong profession!
Sàláwù: What would you rather I did?
Sàláwà: Gastronomy.
79

139.
Sàláwà: I was going to ask if your teachers had forgotten
sending you back home.
Sàláwù: This one’s new.
Sàláwà: He quite understood you really quickly, I’d say.
What’d you do?
Sàláwù: He gave us a small test but my essay enraged
him.
Sàláwà: What’d you write?
Sàláwù: “Short circuits (SC for short) can be dangerous.
One would short-change oneself if one is not
careful with the voltage that goes through them.
In short, one should be careful with electricity”.
Sàláwà: What’s wrong with that?
Sàláwù: He said I was playing on the word ‘short’.
Sàláwà: Is the teacher so short-tempered?
Sàláwù: No, but he is a very short man.

140.
Sàláwà: Don’t your teachers celebrate when you’re not
in school?
Sàláwù: Like hell they do!
Sàláwà: Be quick with it; what happened today?
Sàláwù: There was this large python in the principal’s
office and eight of us were selected to stone it to
death since no one dared go near it with sticks.
Sàláwà: And you broke the Principal’s head?
Sàláwù: That would be if I threw any stones at all.
Sàláwà: Why not?
80

Sàláwù: Exactly what the Principal asked. I told him I


can’t throw stones.
Sàláwà: Why not?
Sàláwù: Because my family live in a glass house, and
you know if you live in a glass house …

141.
Sàláwà: All I know is that the officiating pastor was
partial. That wedding shouldn’t have taken
place!
Sàláwù: So unlike you to fret over unimportant matters.
Sàláwà: Unimportant! That guy has AIDS and I know it.
Sàláwù: Then why didn’t you say something in the
church?
Sàláwà: I could have! But the pastor said, “If any man
has any reason blah blah blah”, not if any
woman!

142.
Sàláwà: You know what? I almost advised you not to
bother to go. I knew you’d be strolling back in
no time.
Sàláwù: One day, I believe, I’ll be relieved of my
teachers.
Sàláwà: Well, won’t you tell me the story?
Sàláwù: It’s always the English teacher. We were having
a practical English lesson. It was my turn to
‘meet a stranger on the street and request
information regarding the location of the post
office’.
Sàláwà: That’s easy, isn’t it?
81

Sàláwù: I doubt it, because now I’m home. Anyway, he


asked me how I’d do it and I said I’d walk up to
the stranger and say, “Good morning. I’m a
student at the University of Benin. My name is
Sàláwù. I am 17 years old. Could you tell me
…” – why are you laughing?
Sàláwà: Are you surprised the teacher sent you home?

143.
Sàláwà: It’s no use asking if they sent you back home.
Tell me, what’s it this time?
Sàláwù: Child abuse,
Sàláwà: Quiz or contest?
Sàláwù: More of a quiz than a contest. The teacher asked
me what I understood by ‘child abuse’.
Sàláwà: And you abused him?
Sàláwù: Not exactly, but he felt abused by my
ignorance.
Sàláwà: What’d you say it was?
Sàláwù: “A case of one child saying to another, ‘you’re
stupid’”

144.
Sàláwà: One day, you’ll come home and I’ll send you
back to those teachers of yours.
Sàláwù: Don’t blame me.
Sàláwà: Then who do I blame?
Sàláwù: The English language.
Sàláwà: Yeah, right.
Sàláwù: The teacher tripped on a banana skin and got
his trousers ripped along the seam of the seat.
82

Sàláwà: That would have been serious.


Sàláwù: Yes, it was. The whole class was thrown into
uproarious laughter.
Sàláwà: They why are you the scapegoat?
Sàláwù: I laughed last, because I thought it was true that
he who laughs last laughs the longest.
Sàláwà: I see. Now who has the last laugh, you or the
teacher?

145.
Sàláwà: What? On the day of exam? Now I believe your
teachers are wicked.
Sàláwù: I knew you’d see it my way.
Sàláwà: Were they drunk?
Sàláwù: Far from it. We were to start the first paper at
9.00. At 8.45 he said he wanted to test our
readiness for the subject.
Sàláwà: And that you’re excluded?
Sàláwù: Will you let me finish?
Sàláwà: Okay.
Sàláwù: Then he asked many irrelevant questions:
where is Eiffel Tower, who was Miss Liberty,
where was Gandhi buried…? Until he asked the
person beside me ‘who was America’s
president before Clinton’.
Sàláwà: Sure that’s cheap.
Sàláwù: Not that. I got so fed up that I spoke too loud.
Sàláwà: What did you say?
Sàláwù: “Why beat about the bush?”
83

146.
Sàláwà: Not again! How many exams will they let you
take then? None, I guess?
Sàláwù: Well, for now, yes.
Sàláwà: Well?
Sàláwù: I think the answer I gave was my undoing. We
did the practical English exam today. They gave
us photos to look at and describe the people in
them.
Sàláwà: Not too difficult, I suppose.
Sàláwù: Since you’re not involved I think you’re right.
Anyway I was given a photo of Virginia Woolf.
Sàláwà: The author?
Sàláwù: Yes. She wore a woolen skirt suit.
Sàláwà: So why did they send you away from school?
Sàláwù: They said my description was too frivolous.
Sàláwà: What was it?
Sàláwù: ‘Woolf dressed in sheep’s clothing’

147
Sàláwà: I am exceedingly sorry to read about the
Suleimans.
Sàláwù: What happened to them?
Sàláwà: You didn’t hear about their hard luck?
Sàláwù: No.
Sàláwà: Oh. In January, their father jumped off a
moving bus and was crushed by a truck. In
March, the eldest child broke his neck during
pole-vaulting. December brought the ultimate.
The mother and two daughters plunged into the
lagoon when their car lost control.
84

Sàláwù: Funny, isn’t it?


Sàláwà: Sàláwù!
Sàláwù: I’m serious. Look at it this way: one jumped,
another pole- vaulted, others plunged. That
must have been a leap year for them. What
year was it, anyway?
Sàláwà: 2016.

148.
Sàláwà: I’m told your biology teacher gave you an A in
the oral test. How’d you do it?
Sàláwù: Brain-work, Sàláwà. Brain-work.
Sàláwà: Interesting. Tell me about the brain-work that
turned the tables around.
Sàláwù: It was an oral test, as you said. He asked me
what bacteria were. I said, ‘they are a group of
micro-organisms, also called the schizomycetes,
typically small cells of about one micron in
transverse diameter which, structurally, have a
protoplast containing cytoplasmic and nuclear
material not seen by ordinary methods of
microscopy within a limiting cytoplasmic
membrane, and a supporting cell wall. Other
structures such as flagella…”
Sàláwà: Are you talking to me?
85

149.
Sàláwà: This is serious. Just yesterday they were all
singing your praise. Today they sent you back
home.
Sàláwù: Didn’t I once say they’re all inconsistent even in
their hatred?
Sàláwà: But why the sudden change in feeling?
Sàláwù: Feeling! You’ve got it. Feeling. You see the
English teacher called me and said, ‘Sàláwù, I
feel very proud of you’. I looked at him and
shook my head.
Sàláwà: Is that all?
Sàláwù: No. I told him God detests proud people.

150.
Sàláwà: The Principal wrote a shocking letter to your
dad, saying you’re the most impossible student
in the school.
Sàláwù: They’re all hypocrites. They say one thing and
expect a different reaction.
Sàláwà: I don’t understand.
Sàláwù: The Governor visited our school and after his
speech, the principal asked us to put our hands
together for the Governor.
Sàláwà: And you didn’t?
Sàláwù: Of course, I did. I obediently clasped my hands
together.
86

151.
Sàláwù: We have a new teacher.
Sàláwà: I hope that’s going to be good news. Means
you have to put on your best manners before
him. What’s his name?
Sàláwù: Dr. something, I don’t remember.
Sàláwà: What does he teach you?
Sàláwù: I think he’s a doctor of letters.
Sàláwà: Why do you say so?
Sàláwù: He only teaches us how to write letters: formal
letters, casual letters, all sorts!

152.
Sàláwà: I thought they’d let you stay a while in school.
Sàláwù: So did I.
Sàláwà: After all, you’re beginning to show them you’re
serious. What’s the matter this time?
Sàláwù: It’s that same English teacher. We were doing
word-study and he asked me what the word
‘specific’ meant in the passage we were
examining.
Sàláwà: Yes?
Sàláwù: I lost guard and thought whatever was valid in
physics would have some meaning in language.
Sàláwà: No?
Sàláwù: No!
Sàláwà: So what did you tell him it meant?
Sàláwù: Following what the physics teacher had told us,
I said, specific in physical quantities is now
used to mean ‘per unit mass’. Hence ‘specific
gravity’ should now be called by its other name
87

‘relative density; ‘specific heat’ now means ‘heat


per unit mass’ and the concept hitherto called
‘specific heat’ needs to be called ‘specific heat
capacity’…
Sàláwà: Get some sleep!

153.
Sàláwà: What?
Sàláwù: Thank God for a change. Today the English
teacher went on recess, leaving the physics
teacher to work on me.
Sàláwà: How?
Sàláwù: Remember the stuff about ‘specific’? good. The
physics teacher came in and started rapping
about some phenomena: gravity, weight, etc.
Sàláwà: Yes, the basics of physics.
Sàláwù: Then I told one of the boys in the class, ‘ask him
the meaning of gravity as it relates to offence’.
Sàláwà: Uh-uh?
Sàláwù: He gave us a conflicting definition. One
‘gravity’ brings things down, another ‘gravity’
heightens it. Which one is it?
Sàláwà: Do you know the gravity of arguing with your
teacher?
Sàláwù: Exactly what he asked me before sending me
out of the class.
88

154.
Sàláwà: Even the Principal or what’d you say?
Sàláwù: Exactly. Despite my good intention.
Sàláwà: What happened between you and him?
Sàláwù: Last week, the Principal informed us all that
thieves were taking over the school and that we
needed someone to keep an eye on the school
property.
Sàláwà: How’s that your lot?
Sàláwù: He said we could help the school by bringing
anyone we thought could do the job well. In
fact, he said anyone we thought was most
equipped for it.
Sàláwà: So how come you now suffer for it all?
Sàláwù: The Principal said I was fooling the whole
school, him especially.
Sàláwà: How?
Sàláwù: Since he said someone well-equipped for the
job, I took one beggar to school and introduced
him to the Principal.
Sàláwà: But how on earth could a beggar be a guard?
Sàláwù: This one had only one eye. I thought he’d be
able to keep the eye on things.
89

155.
Sàláwà: Your teachers need give up on you. Who knows
tomorrow, you could become another Einstein.
Sàláwù: What won’t you people say about WHO? You
just said, who knows tomorrow. Other people
say things like: WHO CAN SAVE THE
WORLD; IF GOD IS FOR US WHO CAN BE
AGAINST US; WHO CAN PLEASE THE
WORLD; and not too long ago Nigerians were
alleging that WHO KILLED DELE GIWA. Is
there anything this organisation cannot do?

156.
Sàláwà: I think I know what you could do to avoid
being sent back home from school now and
again.
Sàláwù: Oh yeah?
Sàláwà: Yes. If I were in your shoes, I’d be very
obedient to instruction…
Sàláwù: There! You wouldn’t even be given any such
chance the moment you’re within the school
premises.
Sàláwà: Why not?
Sàláwù: You’d be sent back home for improper dressing.
Sàláwà: Why?
Sàláwù: Transvestites are not allowed in the school.
Sàláwà: I still don’t understand.
Sàláwù: Didn’t you just say, if you were in my shoes?
90

157.
Sàláwà: I knew you’d soon be flying back home.
Sàláwù: I tried my best to stay in school.
Sàláwà: Then, why did you fail?
Sàláwù: It was a simple question. The English teacher
asked me …
Sàláwà: It’s always the English teacher.
Sàláwù: He claims he was never a kid like us. Anyway,
he asked me to give the meaning of ‘artist’.
Sàláwà: Should be easy enough.
Sàláwù: Well, yes; but I thought precision would do it
better.
Sàláwà: So, precisely what did you do?
Sàláwù: I asked him which? Con-artist, fine artist,
graphic artist or martial artist?

158.
Sàláwà: My cousin wants my opinion on her lover.
Sàláwù: What do you think?
Sàláwà: I think it’s daft if she wants to marry an
unfortunate guy.
Sàláwù: Why?
Sàláwà: Why? But that guy is blind.
Sàláwù: Blind? What’s that got to do with it?
Sàláwà: What? Would you marry a blind lady?
Sàláwù: Tell your cousin to be blind to the guy’s
misfortune. After all, don’t they say love is
blind?
91

159.
Sàláwà: If you were to choose, how would you like the
names of your diseases?
Sàláwù: I’d like them simple.
Sàláwà: Why?
Sàláwù: The more complex the name, the more serious
the disease.
Sàláwà: I quite agree with you. But if you were to
choose between AIDS and schistosoma
japonicum, which would you prefer?

160.
Sàláwà: How did you find your Geography teacher?
Sàláwù: I think he applied for the job.
Sàláwà: I mean your assessment of him.
Sàláwù: But I can’t do that. Don’t you understand? He
is my teacher.
Sàláwà: I mean, does he teach well?
Sàláwù: Well? Today he only taught us rivers. Maybe
wells tomorrow.
Sàláwà: Now I see. What teacher wouldn’t send you
out of his class?

161.
Sàláwà: You and these teachers!
Sàláwù: They never expect one to express one’s opinion!
Sàláwà: Must it be you all the time?
Sàláwù: Well… I don’t know what to say. It’s the
English teacher. He gave us a set of words:
impostor, quack, fraudster, phoney; and he
92

asked us how we’d describe a person who was


caught in the United States deceiving
everybody that he represented the Nigerian
ambassador.
Sàláwà: An impostor?
Sàláwù: Oh, is that what he is? I simply said he should
be sued for “lying–in-States”.

162.
Sàláwà: Even the Commissioner for Education? Are you
crazy?
Sàláwù: Will you hear me out?
Sàláwà: Okay. But I just think what hope do you have if
the Honourable Commissioner for Education
could send you back home on the first day of
the term.
Sàláwù: Well, it’s like this. The Commissioner asked us
what we had to say concerning out teachers and
the Principal. I offered to talk and was asked to.
I informed the Commissioner that the teachers
don’t like me, the Principal hates me and the
school just doesn’t go down well with me.
Then the English teacher interrupted me with
his silence!
Sàláwà: How on earth could anyone interrupt with
silence?
Sàláwù: Exactly. He dropped dead!
93

163.
Sàláwà: Help me with the crossword, will you?
Sàláwù: Any time.
Sàláwà: It’s all got to do with wills.
Sàláwù: I’m willing.
Sàláwà: How would you describe a man who left
something for everybody in his will?
Sàláwù: A man of “good will”.

164.
Sàláwà: Well, are you waiting for me to ask you why
you were sent back home?
Sàláwù: Not quite.
Sàláwà: Then get on with it.
Sàláwù: I’m sure you know who.
Sàláwà: The English teacher, as the Pope is catholic!
Sàláwù: Exactly. He was teaching us formal letters.
Then he asked me what three referees I’d
suggest to support a letter of application.
Sàláwà: Piece of cake, if you ask me.
Sàláwù: Well, it was a kernel for me.
Sàláwà: Incredible.
Sàláwù: Better believe it. I hadn’t mentioned the third
name before he pushed me out of the
classroom.
Sàláwà: What names were these?
Sàláwù: The referees during the Nigeria-Gambia match,
Italy-Ghana encounter and Britain-Argentina in
the World Cup Series of 1994.
94

165.
Sàláwà: You this playboy! I caught you kissing that
good-for-nothing housemaid in House 21.
Sàláwù: Not my fault.
Sàláwà: Why d'you say that?
Sàláwù: She asked me to give her a kiss and I did.
Sàláwà: I don't want such rubbish. So stop it. Must you
give your kisses to just any girl?
(30 minutes later)
Sàláwà: I caught you again kissing the same idiot!
Sàláwù: Yes, I did. But this time, it's all for your sake.
Sàláwà: Yeah, right!
Sàláwù: You see, I went to tell her that Sàláwà doesn't
like me giving a kiss to any other lady. So I
asked her to give me back the kiss I gave her
earlier. And she drew me closer and gave it
back to me... Ah! Why did you slap me?
95

Postscript!
Sàláwù scored a lean mark in JAMB and failed NECO in
drowning colours. Then he decided to see a prophet to see
what could be done.

Prophet: The problem is in your answers to the


questions I’m going to ask you.

Sàláwù: Ok, proph.

Prophet: When were you born?

Sàláwù: September 9, 1999.

Prophet: 9/9/99?

Sàláwù: Yes, proph.

Prophet: Stop calling me ‘proph’. I’m a prophet, not a


professor.

Sàláwù: Ok, proph. Sorry, ok sir.

Prophet: Where do you live?

Sàláwù: Festac.

Prophet: Address?

Sàláwù: House 9, F Close, End Avenue.

Prophet: Do you drink?

Sàláwù: Yes, only Zero Coke.

Prophet: Do you like music?


96

Sàláwù: Yes.

Prophet: Who’s your favourite artiste?

Sàláwù: James Last.

Prophet: Do you have a phone?

Sàláwù: Yes.

Prophet: Which network?

Sàláwù: 9 Mobile.

Prophet: Sàláwù, Sàláwù, Sàláwù, are you surprised you


keep failing?
97

Unit 3
Rhymes for the Growing Child

C
hildren are naturally
bound to misbehave
sometimes, or cause
their parents a little
embarrassment from time to
time. To take care of such
horrid situations, parents can
take advantage of the following
rhymes. They may even add to
the few ones here!
98

 Teaching simple cleanliness


Mum: Jamiu, no feet-

Child: On any seat.

 Discouraging gluttony
Mum: Hey, young lady, before it goes into your tummy-

Child: Always ask your mummy.

 Teaching good manners


Mum: Young man; when you’re in somebody’s house-

Child: No running around like a mouse.

 Before leaving your hosts

Mum: Hey, before we say ‘bye’ to the girls and the boys-

Child: Make sure you don’t have their toys!

 Reading before turning in


Mum: Darling, before you go to bed…?

Child: First, get a bedtime story read.


99

 Teaching praying before going to bed

Mum: Honey, before we sleep at night…?

Child: Pray to God for a night free of fright.

 Admonition before sending them to school

Mum: My dear boy, to be the best in school…?

Child: Obey every rule.

 Teaching actions and consequences


Mum: If you disobey any commandment…?

Child: Be sure to get some punishment.

 Teaching dependability
Mum: Don’t call anyone your best friend…

Child: If you’re not sure they’ll stay to the end.

 Teaching responsibility
Teacher: That we don’t use the cane in class…

Child: Doesn’t mean you become a jackass.


100

 Teaching honesty
Dad: Before you put that money in your pocket…

Child: Be certain it didn’t drop from another’s wallet.

 Teaching filial responsibility


Mum: Friends who don’t speak about their family well-

Child: Are demons from hell.

 Teaching love and respect for family


Mum: Your mum and dad and sister and brother-

Child: Are better than any other.

 Teaching family values


Mum: The little we eat in our own home-

Child: Is more delicious than food in any kingdom.

 Teaching contentment and gratitude


Mum: Even if all you have are clothes made from sack-

Child: Thank God for covering your back.


101

 Teaching respect for time and productivity


Mum: Concerning friends who always want to play

Child: Simply tell them to get out of your way.

 Teaching sexuality awareness


Mum: If an ‘uncle’ asks you to sit on his lap –

Child: Reach over and give him a good slap.

 Teaching good hygiene


Mum: If you spit here, there and everywhere –

Child: You’re sure to spread diarrhoea.

 Discouraging ‘sagging’ and similar maladies


Mum: When your trousers reveal your undies –

Child: You group yourself with thugs and nobodies.

 Teaching dependence on God


Mum: When you wake up in the morning –

Child: Give thanks to God our King.


102

 Encouraging reading and studiousness


Mum: Being in company with students that hate books –

Child: Already gives you away as a friend of crooks.


103

Unit 4

GENOTYPE
Phase One

Lagos. Year: 2009. University of Lagos, Nigeria. A sleek Mercedes


Benz car pulls up beside three ladies chatting in front of the Faculty
of Arts. The driver opens the door and comes out of the car.
Naturally, all eyes turn towards him.

Man: (Turning on a most natural charm) Hello, ladies!

All 3 ladies: (Somewhat unenthusiastically) Hi.

Man: Er, sorry, but is this the Faculty of Law?

1 Lady: No, Arts.

Man: Oh! But where’s Law?

2 Lady: (Pointing) Go behind that tall building, there’s


two other buildings to your left; the one with a
car park is Law.

Man: Many thanks.

All 3 Ladies: You’re welcome.

Man: But, can I park here, or is there...?

3 Lady: Sure, why not?


104

Man: (Points a hand-held gadget at the car; the car makes


a locking sound.) Thanks, ladies. See you some
other time. (Walks off)

2 Lady: This is one hell of a heart throb!

1 Lady: Yes, but not enough to cause a heart attack.

2 Lady: Who wants a heart attack? So long as a man can


make my heart skip a beat, who cares what
else? Look at his car, girl! I’m sure he’s a bank
MD or something equally amazing.

1 Lady: Or one of these Nollywood stars.

3 Lady: Guys, back to what we were discussing. So,


which of us will inform the HOD about Lola’s
accident? We’ve got to do it fast or she won’t be
allowed to take any exams next week.

1 Lady: Simple. Let’s just send a letter on her behalf and


give all the necessary info.

2 Lady: That’s that. I think Grace can write the letter on


Lola’s behalf and give the secretary. I mean,
you’re good at such things, abi?

3 Lady: Now you acknowledge my being good at


something.

2 Lady: It’s called sister act. Just do it for Lola.


105

3 Lady: Ok, guys. See you two later in the hostel. (Walks
off)

2 Lady: Bookworm. I wonder how any guy can cope


with her. Doubt if she knows anything other
than books.

1 Lady: Honestly, I think she’ll make a better wife than


me. Let’s be frank, she’s rather smarter than
both of us. She may not have a fantastic body
like you, but please be gracious enough to
admit that she’s got something you don’t have.

2 Lady: Well, I still think a lady’s got to be an all-


rounder. I mean, the men out there want a lady
that can match their money with her pleasure.
Let’s not forget that. I mean, what’s the use, I
make a first class and I don’t get a guy to marry
me. What’s the use of so much stress in school?

1 Lady: That depends. (Spotting Man in the distance)


Here comes your Mr. Tempting.

2 Lady: I’ve got my tank full of men for now. Why don’t
you discover him?

1 Lady: (Excitedly) Are you serious?

2 Lady: With all pleasure. But as usual, you’ll share the


plunder with me.

1 Lady: (Shaking hands with her) Deal. Let’s both meet


him.
106

Presently, Man walks up to them.

Man: Ladies, you still here?

2 Lady: Not really. Just tying up some loose ends.

Man: (Tentatively) Could I fit in the loop?

1 Lady: Absolutely.

Man: (Offering his hand) Name’s Hal.

1 Lady: (Shaking hands with him) Nice to meet you, Mr.


Hal. I’m Bessie.

2 Lady: (Shaking hands with Man in turn) Such a pleasure


to meet you. Aminat.

Man: Don’t you guys have a class now or something?

Aminat: (Looking at her watch) O my God! I’m almost late


for a tutorial. Better be going. See you another
time, Mr. Hal.

Man: No, Hal will be just fine.

Aminat: Okay, Hal. (Walks away briskly)

Bessie: Nice talking to you, Hal. (Makes as if to go)

Man: (Feigning disappointment) You, too? And I was


beginning to think we could all have some time
107

together before my appointment at four later


today.

Bessie: But I thought you were about to drive out of


campus.

Man: No. Maybe drive around for a while. The


gentleman I came to see is teaching till four; so I
guess I have a little time to kill before then. So,
if you’re not too busy, let’s see the town
together.

Bessie: Well, why not? If you promise to bring me back


to the hostel.

Man: (Excitedly) Promise? I vow!

Bessie: (Entering the car and settling down in the front


passenger seat) This feels like Neverland. How
much does a car like this cost?

Man: It’s very cheap. Just an arm and a leg.

They both laugh and drive off.


108

Phase Two

Hal and Bessie at Limits Restaurant, somewhere in Ikeja. There’s


the usual Lagos happy-go-lucky fizz. Hal and Bessie have their
orders but Bessie seems a little uncomfortable.

Hal: Come on, feel at home. This is one of the best


places in this town and it gives me a great
pleasure to bring you here. Plus, it’s our first
outing. Who knows, we may call here again and
again. If we become good friends, that is.

Bessie: Over my dead body!

Hal: Why, that’s sharp! What’s the matter? Why are


you suddenly acting strangely?

Bessie: Look across the road.

Hal: Well? (Shoves down a lump of pounded yam)

Bessie: Are we looking in the same direction?


Hal: (Drinking a largish amount of Guinness stout)
Yeah, but what’s it you see that I don’t, dear?

Bessie: Do you see what’s sold in that shop?


Hal: Oh. Coffins and caskets. So what?
Bessie: Oh, please! That’s a funeral home.

Hal: Business, dear. This is Lagos. To everyone, their


trade.
109

Bessie: We might as well be dining right in any one of


the caskets!

Hal: (Suppressing a belch) Now, please don’t be


ridiculous.

Bessie: Sorry, but things like this make me ill at ease.

Hal: Now, girl, what’s the real problem? This


restaurant or the undertaker’s?

Bessie: Honestly, I’m just a bit uneasy about a place for


pleasure being located so close to a funeral
home. In any case, I’m sorry if you find me a
bit of a wet blanket. Let’s be out of here as soon
as possible. I’m beginning to feel queasy.

Hal: That’s okay. Waiter!


110

Phase Three

Back in the car, Bessie is still a little upset about the lunch flop and
Hal tries to cheer her up.

Hal: Let’s put all that behind us, shall we?

Bessie: Man, you’re strange!

Hal: In that case, so is everyone in that restaurant.


But then, in Lagos, there’s no big deal in people
eating right inside a coffin.

Bessie: I’ve been in Lagos all my life and it’s my first


contact with that kind of unusual reality.

Hal: I’m sorry, but that’s the sum of all of life.

Bessie: Says who?

Hal: I thought you said you’re a Christian?

Bessie: What’s anyone’s faith got to do with a joint


located in the grave?

Hal: Maybe that’s the sermon in locating a funeral


home next to a restaurant, who knows?

Bessie: I beg your pardon!

Hal: Let’s take a verse from Ecclesiastes.


111

Bessie: (Looking out of the window) Can’t we drop this


topic and, maybe listen to music or something-
anything but this talk about guts and graves?

Hal: But then, my dear lady, It is better to go to a


house of mourning than to go to a house of
feasting, for death is the destiny of every man;
the living should take this to heart. I think that’s
Ecclesiastes seven two.

Bessie: Oh, Hal, please! Were you sent to torment me?

Hal: Not at all. All right, let’s get more serious –


where would you like to have lunch. Any place
of your choice.

Bessie: (Relieved) At last! I’ve always dreamed about


Planet One.

Hal: Here comes the genie, baby.


112

Phase Four

At Planet One, an exclusive club located in the foreground of


Maryland, Lagos. Hal and Bessie take a cozy, intimate table in a
corner of the restaurant. Soft lights and cool, romantic music.

Hal: You’d always dreamed about this place?

Bessie: Now it’s come true.

Hal: Well...?

Bessie: This is truly exclusive. So much hoo-hah about


it, though. But I love it here. It’s like a night
with the genie.

Hal: I thought you said there was so much hoo-hah?


But now even you are writing a commercial
script for the place.

Bessie: More like the spirit of the place is invading me.

Hal: My first time here, anyway.

Bessie: Tell that to the marines.

Hal: I think you’re looking at my suit. I really may


look like a man about town but, I tell you, I’m
one village boy in a megacity.

Bessie: (Almost choking on her drink) I find it hard to


swallow that.
113

Hal: Lying doesn’t go down well with me either.

Bessie: You could have fooled me.

Hal: Okay, let’s cut the clutter. Tell me about


yourself.

Bessie: Look at you- who needs to make themselves


known, me or you?

Hal: Why me?

Bessie: You’re the distinguished gentleman here.

Hal: But you’re my guest of honour. So do it.

Bessie: Okay. I’m just one of those girls around. My


real name’s Bose but with a name like that, I’m
sure any lady’s most definitely going to spend
her undergraduate days wondering why guys
go to other ladies. I’m in my second year in the
university. Now, you.

Hal: Another one ordinary folk from the outback.

Bessie: Where’s that?

Hal: I’m Ijebu. Thoroughbred.

Bessie: But there’s so much polish about you that


anyone’d think you’re from overseas.
114

Hal: No crime in going abroad for business and


returning to motherland, is there?

Bessie: Oh, Motherlan’- that’s another of my dreams. I


love Lágbájá’s music like hell.

Hal: And that’s one more place I’d be going for the
first time. Thanks to you, of course.

Bessie: Now, I find that difficult to believe.

Hal: Why, must a man have been everywhere?

Bessie: No, but you guys get everywhere first.

Hal: Okay, Motherlan’ next weekend. I hope we keep


together that long.

Bessie: Oh, thanks. Now, back to you. Where d’you


live.

Hal: For now, I’m living in Canada.

Bessie: That’s my number one dream country.

Hal: How many dreams do you have daily?

Bessie: Excuse me?

Hal: I mean, what’s the big deal about Canada?

Bessie: But that’s where everyone’s going these days.


They say life’s easy as a wink there. I hear it
gives you the mega bucks.
115

Hal: Not too far from the truth. I mean, who works
in Canada? It’s totally an indulgent country for
non-Canadians. Don’t need to work hard or do
any of the things people do here to make ends
meet. A little effort in Canada gives a lifetime of
comfort. To call a spade a spade, it’s the country
to beat.

Bessie: Then, why all this noise about the US?

Hal: Y’see, Nigerians are the natural barometer for a


foreign country’s economic development. If
Nigerians don’t go there, you’d best not invest
in it.

Bessie: That must be true.

Hal: I mean, look at the time Nigerians were


trooping to England. Just like the Israelites to
the Promised Land. All of a sudden, the wind
vane shifted and the US became God’s own
land. Like termites, Nigerians almost totally
devoured the American economy and then the
ants among us discovered the sugar coatings of
Ireland. Within five years, the name on every
babbling Nigerian lip became Ireland. And
then, every pregnant lady would give anything
to have her baby in Ireland! In no time at all,
Canada became the toast of our nation. And
now we’re all there. Even me.

Bessie: There you are.


116

Hal: (Conceding) Oh yes, there I am.

Bessie: If life in Canada is so cushy, why are you back


in Nigeria?

Hal: To set up a practice here. As I told you ladies


earlier today, I came to look for a law professor
that could help with information on maritime
legal practice in Nigeria. (Checks his watch) Oh,
by the way, it’s three-fifteen. I’ve got to get back
to him about four. Let’s drink up. We’ll talk as
we drive back. (Calls) Waiter!
117

Phase Five
Back at the hostel, Bessie is debriefed by her friends as in Phase
One.
Bessie: (Excitedly throwing packs of food and drinks on the
table) Hey, babes, I’ve got it on the broad side,
believe me.

Grace: (Suppressing her fascination) You ladies and men!

Aminat: My sister, life gives you only a one-way ticket.


Once in a while, some special people come up
and present you with a round-trip opportunity.
Girl, you’ve got only one second to think about
it. That’s why one needs to be a girl scout. At
the blow of the whistle, pack your things and
stow away with your catch.

Bessie: Without much ado!

Grace: Not considering-

Aminat: Before you con- anything, some smarter chick is


already pro-ing your man! As I said, no second
thought. Just stow away.

Grace: What if-

Bessie: Life itself is largely iffy. You think about it,


who’s sure about anything?
118

Aminat: It’s all chancy. Absolutely dicey. So you have to


know your game before the players surface. As
soon as they turn up-

Bessie: Stow away.

Grace: I still think-

Aminat: I’ve always said you’re a thinker. Like Marx,


Popper and Heidegger. Look around you, how
many thinkers prosper in our society today?
Don’t you see how thoughtless people are
prospering? In politics, in music and- even in
education? How many thinking lecturers in this
university have as much net worth as their
thoughtless counterparts in politics? Sis, if
thoughtlessness is the key, let God make me
brainless at once! Come on, Grace, now you
think about it!

Bessie: (Banging on the table) Ladies, are we having a


party or not- here’s lots of stuff for a jolly
evening.

Like little children, they all start rifling through the packs...

Aminat: Ooh, stuffed Danish cookies-

Bessie: Look at this-

Grace: Please, Bessie, give me some of it. You know


I’m rather nuts about Planet One’s Popular
Pizza. (Taking a little in her hand) Ah, it’s still
very warm.
119

Aminat: I didn’t know that guy would go this far.

Bessie: (With her mouth full of food) Golls, there’s saw


much gist1.

Aminat: As my Alhaji would say in the throes of


orgasm, Yawwa! Ride on, girl. Take your time to
fill us in.

Bessie: Let me first give you the summary: a most


ordinary day had a most extraordinary night.
I’m going to sleep tonight looking forward to a
dream of a lifetime.

Grace: You and dreams! No wonder Lola calls you


Josephine’.

Bessie: But then, today’s events confirm her skill at


rechristening people.

Aminat: (Finishing off a packed drink) And they lived


happily together ever after- is that all there is to
your story?

Bessie: But you guys keep getting in the way of my


account.

Grace: (Unwrapping something) Baby, get on with it.

Bessie: Okay. This is one guy that had been looking for
a lady to spend time with since he came back
from Canada about three weeks ago. Stays in a
hotel off Allen Avenue- we even went there
120

together briefly- (Noticing a glint in Aminat’s eyes)


oh, no. No, no, no. Nothing like that- in fact,
there was very little time. He just wanted to
carry more money. I think to give the professor
of law he came to see.

Aminat: And then-?

Bessie: Honestly, I don’t know where to start. He’s


literally a lonely guy- but I tell you, he’s a
fabulous chap. Has his business in Canada, is
here for another three or four weeks but hopes to
be back finally to set up his own business as a
kind of lawyer- I really don’t know what kind of
lawyer-

Aminat: Who cares!

Bessie: Search me! Guys, there was hardly anything I


pointed at that he didn’t want to get for me. He
was literally all over me.

Grace: Some hungry guy, that.

Bessie: You mean, like hungry for sex?


Grace: Not quite; maybe a relationship.
Bessie: I’d give him a whole world of it. All his for the
asking.

Aminat: (Raising her right hand) Give me a high five-


yeah, that’s my girl.

Grace: There goes James out of the window.


121

Aminat: In double quick time!

Bessie: (Laughing hysterically) Yes, with all his promises


of life after graduation.

Grace: (Genuinely surprised) So fast?


Aminat: But we all know that campus affairs always
come last in this kind of race. I mean, any lady
would reach a guy that drives a Merc twenty-
five kilometres away faster than one that walks
on campus.

Grace: That’s curious thinking.

Aminat: There we go again- everything must have a


thinking equation to it.

Bessie: But really, where a guy lives isn’t the issue; if he


has a car, then he’s closer to you than a guy
without a car. One would always get to you
faster than the other.

Grace: Madonna babes!

Aminat: Greetings, Plato’s niece!

Grace: One good thing, anyway- you guys always


bring something for us all.

Presently, a knock on the door. Alhaji Kwara comes in.

Aminat: Alhaji, you’re the devil himself.


122

Alhaji: Sent to be your guardian angel. How are you


everybody?

Ladies: Fine, Alhaji. Good evening.

Alhaji: (Matter-of-factly) Aminat, you have plenty work


tonight, o. I hope no blood.

Bessie: Ah, Alhaji. So crude.

Grace: (Under her breath) Like crude oil!

Alhaji: We’re all pretenders. Under our clothes, are we


not naked? Ehn? So why behave like the Queen
of England?

Aminat: You know where England is?

Alhaji: You, do you know?

Aminat: You promised taking me there, remember?

Alhaji: Okay. Let’s go for summer this December.

Bessie: Alhaji, the summer is not in December.

Alhaji: Aminat, you want to go for summer this


December or not?

Aminat: Like right now!

Alhaji: This is the last boarding announcement. Follow


me now. You say no blood, abi?
123

Aminat: It’s called menses, Alhaji.

Alhaji: Yawwa!

Aminat: I’ll be with you at the car park shortly.

Alhaji opens the door and leaves. Aminat goes to her wardrobe,
brings out a bottle and shakes out three or four pills in her palm.
She pours a glass of water and takes the pills.

Grace: You ladies have to be very careful. Don’t let


these things get out of hand.

Aminat: Maybe in my next life. Now is the only time I’ve


got.

Grace: Excess kills, you know. Think about your youth.


That’s what you’re giving to these men.

Aminat: (Head-on) Think. Thinker. Thinkest thou


something? My youth’s all I’ve got while I’m
young. This is the only trade in the world in
which the younger you are, the higher you earn.
Doubt if a fifty-year old would appeal to two or
three men in bed at the same time. As I said,
now’s all we’ve all got. Good night, guys. My
oil rig is salivating already.

As Aminat leaves, Bessie and Grace resume rummaging through


the food packs.
124

Phase Six
The Faculty of Law, University of Lagos. Hal has come to see
Professor Ojulari.

Prof: (Offering a handshake) Sorry, Mr...?

Hal: (Shaking hands with him) Hal Raheemson.

Prof: (Eagerly) Well, what can we do together, Mr.


Raheemson?

Hal: (Taking a seat) My partners and I are thinking of


sponsoring a little public awareness programme
on HIV-AIDS, in view of students’ carefree
living styles. Er, by way of introduction, I work
for a firm in Canada, and we’re trying to set up
a company in Nigeria, but we thought it would
be strategic to get some attention through the
media. And then, one sure way of getting that
attention is to get involved in matters of the
moment. I mean, it’s not exactly that we’re not
sincerely interested in the welfare of the
students, but we thought- rather than sponsor a
beauty contest or any such, er permit me to use
the word ‘trite’- yes, instead of such
commonplace things, a more serious thing
could be more strategic. So-

Prof: (Cutting in) Yes, Mr. Raheemson-

Hal: ‘Hal’ would be fine, sir.


125

Prof: Ok, Hal. But as a lawyer, how do I come into all


that?

Hal: We need a reputable faculty or department to


be our foundation.

Prof: Now I understand. I guess that’s easy.

Hal: Thank you, sir. You may not talk about it, but
we’ve decided to give the facilitators some
financial appreciation.

Prof: Oh, naturally. Naturally. Em, do you drink?

Hal: I’m not so holy, after all.

Prof: That makes us twins! In that case, let’s conclude


the arrangements at the Staff Club. Shall we?
126

Phase Seven
Hal and Bessie walk into a small hotel somewhere in Yaba and head
for Hal’s accommodation.

Hal: (Spreading his arms) You’re welcome to my


modest suite.

Bessie: (Marvelling at the appointments) You call this


‘modest’? I know a modest place when I see
one. I mean, look how everything spells order
and class. You even have a mini office here.

Hal: Well, one tries one’s best.

Bessie: Don’t sound so modest. This is my idea of a


dream hotel suite. I could live all my life in this
kind of place. I mean, just look around. Don’t
you ever feel all alone?

Hal: Precisely!

Bessie: What?

Hal: You hit the nail right on the head. I sometimes


feel dreadfully lonely, especially after working
long hours. You know, I can’t take up any office
yet- they’ll be asking you for two years’ rent.
Something like two-point-five-million-naira.

Bessie: So, how long do you hope to stay here before


getting an office?
127

Hal: Six weeks. The plan is, after the public


awareness programme, I’ll return to Canada to
report on things and then get the full approval
to set up a practice. Then, I hope to settle down
and begin real life-

Bessie: Are your family in Canada?

Hal: (Laughing) Smart one- that question. I’m still


single. And vigorously looking for a down-to-
earth lady to give my feelings direction.

Bessie: (Getting philosophical) Men and their anderings!


You hold a lump of ice in your hand, yet you
complain there’s nothing to keep your mouth
cool.

Hal: Wow! How deep!

Bessie: (Facing him) If you know what you want, Hal,


your Number One just might be standing right
before you.

Hal: Meaning?

Bessie: Here’s my hand; no need for you to ask any


father for it.

Hal: Just like that?

Bessie: As sugar is sweet!

Hal: Not even lightning is this quick! I guess you’ve


got me, too.
128

Bessie: (Flying into his arms) How magical! (Cranes her


neck to kiss him) Shall we seal it,
then, honey?

Hal: (Restraining her) Uhn-uhn! Not quite my style. A


kiss is such a dubious warranty. Let’s just wait
to see which way the wind blows, shall we? I
mean, what’s the hurry?

Bessie: Okay, Mr. Easy. Whenever you’re ready, you’ve


got a full sack of me.

Hal: I need to meet some contacts at Allen Avenue in


about thirty minutes.

Bessie: Am I invited?

Hal: Well, why not? Time we started showing off


each other, isn’t it?

Bessie: That’s my dream man speaking my dream


language!

Hal changes into fresh clothes and they walk out of the room, hand-
in-hand.
129

Phase Eight

Back at the hostel, Bessie regales her friends with her breakthrough.

Grace: Is this what you call arriving?

Bessie: What else could you call it? Here’s a guy


throwing good fortune at me. At the very worst,
I’d come back richer if not married.

Aminat: Is he that rich?

Bessie: Guys, I met some of his associates. They all


stink of comfort and confidence. I mean, these
guys are made of money! And, you won’t
believe this, they’re all still single.

Aminat: Enough! Don’t say you’ve forgotten our deal?

Bessie: That deal can’t see you through school. Go for


the real stuff, girl. Get involved with one of
Hal’s friends and there you go. Full speed.

Grace: (Stunned) Ha?

Aminat: I’ve always told you, one day your jaw will hit
the floor.

Grace: But I’m surprised. Alhaji. Greg. Sam. Tunde.


And that your so-called uncle. All of them
eating out of just one bowl!

Aminat: Why all that census?


130

Grace: Just a reminder. Sorry if I’m wiping my mouth


on the wrong napkin. Just can’t help myself
caring about you guys.

Bessie: Thanks a lot, caregiver. Now, Aminat, what


shall we do with these cocoa plantations?

Aminat: Maybe call Franca and Bimbo to join in the


harvest.

Bessie: I trust you- never short of helpful ideas!

Grace watches them incredulously as they go out.


131

Phase Nine
A boardroom. Five men including Professor Ojulari sit around a
large table. A lady keeps the minutes of the meeting.

Hal: Prof, we thank you for coming. As I told you,


we represent our home firm in Canada and are
looking for an opportunity to set up a practice
here. Let’s just introduce ourselves and get the
meeting underway. I’m Hal Raeemson, the
Project Coordinator. And these are my partners.

1 Partner: Dele Joseph.

2 Partner: Luqmon Daramola.

3 Partner: Chike Salome.

Hal: And Lola Adebanji, our secretary.

Prof: Nice to meet you all.

Hal: Gentlemen, let’s get started...

This phase fades into the next, a large university auditorium. The
four partners and Professor Ojulari sit at the high table. A large
number of students make up the audience. Banners and posters
everywhere. Aminat, Bessie and two other ladies (Franca and
Bimbo) are seen attending to the audience’s needs.

Prof: I think our guest speakers today deserve more


than just a round of applause for those
beautifully presented views on the theme, Life
132

and the Living Styles of University Undergraduates.


Shall we give them a standing ovation?

The audience rise and clap for a few moments.

And now, I’d like to summarise all that we’ve


learnt today. As we’ve heard, the predator is
constantly around us, enticing us with all sorts
of gimmicks – just to derail us and make a mess
of our lives. For the male students, for instance,
the allure of instant wealth, presented through
many unworkable sales promotions, reality
shows and impractical offers of jobs abroad are
what you may need to guard against. For our
female students, these strategies and a lot more
lie in wait for your precious lives. For instance,
numerous sexual partners, the boundless
pursuit of material things, unprotected sexual
intercourse, greed and discontentment,
counting your chickens even before your hens
have mated with cocks, etc.- all these are a few
of the innumerable evils of your day. Lastly,
remember, you can’t be too careful about your
life. I thank our guests from Canada-based Life
Projects Company, for their frank talk and I thank
you staff and students for making their visit
worthwhile. And I charge us all to borrow a leaf
from their talk to ensure that our life and our
living don’t bring about any regrets. Thank you
all.

Another standing ovation, handshakes, hugs, etc.


133

Phase Ten

At Planet One Club. A party. On the dance floor are Prof, Hal and
his friends, the ladies – Bessie, Aminat, Toks, Franca – and Grace.

Prof: (Dancing blues with Grace) So, it’s your first


outing in three years of university education?

Grace: (Barely allowing her body to touch his) Yes.

Prof: Who’d believe that?

Grace: God does.

Prof: And why are you here. I mean, look at your


friends. They seem to think that good times are
their birthright.

Grace: As we all say, different strokes for different


folks.

Prof: Tell me, are you real or are you just making me
believe you’re a good girl.

Grace: Sir, believe me, these things aren’t my kind of


craving. For now, my books are everything to
me. Well, in truth, I party once in a while. You
know, to chat to real people, not characters in
books. That’s all I go to parties for. Nothing
more. And that’s the truth.
134

Prof: Anyway, are we going to be seeing each other


after tonight?

Grace: Honestly, Prof, no. I don’t need a lover for now.

Prof: I’ll keep trying. At least, let’s keep the window


open. Could I have you phone?

Grace: Sure, why not. Talk is cheap.

Prof: But- I mean, listen to yourself. You talk so


smart. Are you trying to see if I’m indeed a
prof?

Grace: Prof. Undergrad. Hm.

Prof: Girl, you’ve got me thinking.

Grace: Would you rather not? Sir?

Prof: You’ll thank God for this evening, I promise.

Grace: Tell me, aren’t you married?

Prof: Good question. I’m still a bachelor.

Grace: And you’re a professor?

Prof: Well...let’s just say a waiting professor.

Grace: Waiting for-?

Prof: A girl like you.


135

Grace: You’ll wait another two to three years, then.


Prof: I hope you can wait till then, too.

Focus on Hal and Bessie. She’s all over him, trying to kiss him from
time to time but he refuses her advances somewhat mechanically.

Bessie: I hope you won’t starve me to death with your


denials. Have any of your teeth ever been stolen
while you were being kissed?

Hal: That’s quite funny.

Bessie: But why would anyone refrain from simple


romantic stimuli? Kisses aren’t for sale, you
know.

Hal: You think about it, why toy with each other’s
emotions?

Bessie: But-

Hal: I mean, a kiss leads to fondling, which in turn


leads to different kinds of exploration, and
ultimately unprotected sex. So, to be true to our
Foundation’s ideals, we instruct ourselves
about the need to check things out carefully
before taking the plunge. It’s all a leap in the
dark y’know, in a manner of speaking.

Bessie: So, what are your suggesting?

Hal: Not me, my dear. It’s only common sense.


These days, all of us have either tested or been
tested by others. Who knows where the other
136

person is coming from? To you, no big deal in


kissing and all that stuff. I’m more particular
about goals.

Bessie: But what’s the goal of an innocent kiss?

Hal: A kiss sets other things in motion. It’s more or


less a catalyst.

Bessie: Uh-hun?

Hal: Tell you what, a wise person is disciplined even


in romantic matters.

Bessie: Mechanical, you mean?

Hal: You don’t give up, do you?

Bessie: I’d kill the dream of giving you up for another


lady. Tell me, what shall we do?

Hal: Truth is, I see some future in our attachment. So


I have to watch out for obstacles. Let’s take it all
very easy. You see, at this stage of our lives,
none of us- I’m talking about me and my
associates – yes, none of us is going to do
anything with any lady without appropriate
precautions. Forget about virginity and all such
stuff. But once we’re committed to a lady, we
take her as our full-time responsibility. For
instance, once you and I get steady, I naturally
have to take care of you as my wife. Not that if
you need a little money from time to time I can’t
rise to the occasion; but once we’re lovers,
making love and such things, ah, my dear, I’m
137

all yours. Financially, spiritually, whatever.


That’s what I’m saying.

Bessie: Now I get your point. So what’s the next step?

Hal: First, how far are you willing to go?

Bessie: I don’t know, but you’ve hit me the way no


other man has ever done. Hal, you make me
lose propriety.

Hal: Believe me, I feel greatly attracted to you, too.

Bessie: So, let’s rev things up.

Hal: All right, then. We’ll have to do a blood test. For


one thing, I’d like to know if we have
compatible blood groups. It’s a dangerous thing
if both of us are AS and we get married. That’s
doom for our children. Or if either of us has
HIV blooming already. So let’s safeguard our
future-

Bessie: (Interrupting him) I’m all for it.

Hal: But we have to wait a few days, like four, before


going for the test. We have a series of meetings
this week. Maybe next week. Luckily, my
associate, Dele- there he is, dancing with
Aminat- he’s the company’s medical doctor. He
can take our blood samples.

Bessie: it’s your call.

Focus on other couples, talking, dancing...


138

Phase Eleven

Grace, Aminat and Bessie in a corner in the University Central


Cafe, comparing notes about the men at the party.

Grace: That prof thought I was the smartest girl he’d


ever met.

Aminat: Men have been known to think many things


about ladies when they want something, don’t
you know?

Grace: But I think I heard something sincere in his


voice.

Bessie: Aminat the thinker! Did you really hear it or do


you think you did?

Aminat: Whatever. All of us are calculators, more or less.


Our tendency is always to push in favourable
directions.

Grace: In my own case, the prof is pulling me in his


direction. Left to me...

Bessie: I agree with Aminat. We’re all looking for


someone to latch onto. As for me, Hal can’t get
a firmer leech. I guess I’m stuck to him for
good.

Grace: Problem with you is the number of men you’ve


clung to this year alone.
139

Aminat: Many are called; one will be chosen.

Bessie: We both went for blood tests two days ago.


Once our genotypes are compatible, my
forwarding address is somewhere in Canada.

Grace: Just like that?

Aminat: Even me. Dele and I got the results yesterday


and the doctor said he didn’t see why we
couldn’t go straight to the Marriage Registry
from his clinic.

Bessie: Naturally, I’ll be your Chief Bride’s Maid.

Grace: You girls have everything planned already.

Aminat: My future needs no Planning Committee. By


this time next week, I should have done an
affidavit for a change of name. (Quite matter-of-
factly) I, formerly known as Aminat Amodu
henceforth wish to be called, known, addressed
and referred to as Mrs. Aminat Dele-Joseph. All
former documents remain valid.

Grace: What documents? Your O’level result and letter


of admission?

Aminat: (Feigning annoyance) Aren’t those documents?

Bessie’s phone rings.

Bessie: Hey, girls, the king calls. Ladies, my days in this


university are numbered. (Picking the call) Hi,
140

Irresistible. What does my prince want to tell


me? Yes? (Suddenly) Ohh, girls, this is the hour
I’ve been waiting for. Our blood groups are
compatible. I’m going to Canada!
141

Phase Twelve

Location: Osun State. Hal and Dele squat naked before a mound in
a shrine, each carrying a calabash containing a hypodermic syringe
filled with human blood. An aged herbalist, holding a dead
partridge in either hand chants some incantations while dancing in
short, quick steps around them. After some time, he stops.

Herbalist: Hal. Raise your left hand. (Hal complies.) Are


you ready for this meeting with Àkúnlẹyàn?2

Hal: Yes, Baba.

Herbalist: Dele. Raise your left hand. (Dele complies.) Are


you ready for this meeting with Àkúnlẹyàn?

(Chants for several moments and suddenly faces both


men in a threatening manner)

Your gods are ready to act on your behalf. Are


you two sure you’re ready?

Hal & Dele: Yes.

Herbalist: (Calls his apprentice) Ajere, bring the first mirror.


(Ajere brings in a large mirror.) Stand it against
the wall and go and bring the second one. (Ajere
acts accordingly.) Dele, this is your own mirror.
Hal, this one is yours. (Hands them a small ladle
each) Discharge a little blood from the syringe
into the ladle. Just a little. (Watches them) Yes,
that’s ok. Now close your eyes and drink it.
(Both comply.) That’s the first step. The second
142

step now. (He looks at them in turn intently.) Are


you both okay? If we miss this step, I have no
powers over the consequences, you know. The
result may be incurable madness. Or incurable
epilepsy. Or even incurable leprosy. One more
time, are you sure you’re ready?

Hal & Dele: Yes, Baba.

Herbalist: (Breathes deeply and shakes a gourd ominously.


Chants almost inaudibly and touches each man’s
head in turn with a dead partridge.) Good. Now,
stand up, both of you. Hal, take three steps
towards your mirror. You, too, Dele. (Chants
ferociously and a wild wind shuts the tiny window
in the shrine.) I welcome you, the Commanders
of the Valley of Decision. Envoys of the Creator,
you’re welcome. You that say “So be it”, I
worship you. Grant to your sons, the power to
prosper through surrogate effort. As you grant
their wish, O Incontrovertible Tongues, take
your own commission. In due season, soul will
serve soul and balance will return to creation.
So shall it be.

Hal & Dele: Àṣẹ.3

Immediately afterwards, the window gently opens again, without


any sound at all, and an unusual calm returns.

Herbalist: Now the final stage. Look at the mirror, each of


you and call out your emissary’s name. Loud.

Hal: Bessie!
143

Dele: Aminat!

Each lady appears in the mirror in her nightgown.

Herbalist: Now! Squirt the remaining blood on them.


Quickly. (Both men discharge the remaining blood
in the syringes on the ladies in the mirror. The ladies
scream until they both fall down dead, squirming
like worms.) No time to waste. Take up the club
beside the mirror and smash it. (Hal and Dele
comply.) Congratulations. The gods have done
as you desired. (Calls) Ajere!

Ajere: (From the backyard) Baba!

At that moment. The car park in front of a Ladies’ Hostel at the


University of Lagos. Alhaji and his friend, Chief, have been sitting
in a magnificent Jeep chatting with Aminat and Bessie. The ladies
simultaneously feel the heaviness and cruelty of being hit mortally
and start screaming ‘Please! Please!’ In a matter of seconds, they’re
both looking lifeless. The two men are confounded and run out of
the Jeep, calling on some students around to help them carry the
ladies to the Health Centre. In no time at all, there’s a large crowd
around the Jeep.

Alhaji: (Frantically) What’s this? Just now they were


talking about going to Canada on scholarship.
(Shaking her vigorously) Aminat! Aminat!

Chief: (Taking control of himself) Alhaji, let’s rush them


to the clinic. (Facing the crowd) Hey, my friends,
where’s-
144

Student 1: (Slapping Chief and holding fast onto his agbada)


You’re mental. That’s what you all do. You
come here to take innocent girls for ritual. Now
they’re dead and you’re saying what!

Alhaji: (Crouching to avoid a blow from another student)


Wallahi tallahi, is not like that- just now now
they were talking of scholarship to Canada-

Some students hit both men at once and others join in manhandling
them. Within a few moments the students have stripped the men of
their garments and started beating them up with all kinds of things.

Student 2: O yá!4 Let’s take the girls out of the Jeep.

With the ladies carried out of the vehicle, the mob overturns it and
sets it ablaze. The blaze only invites more students to the scene.

Student 3: (Kicking Chief in the groin) This will teach you a


lesson. Stupid old goat. Petrol and matches!

At once, petrol and matches are supplied and the two men are also
set on fire.

Student 4: The girls! The girls! Where are they?

Student 5: Let’s take them to the Health Centre quickly.

The ladies are put in a car and driven to the Health Centre. One
look, and the doctor confirms they’re dead.
145

Doctor: (Barely touching either body) These ladies are both


dead. See, rigor mortis has set in already.
(Turning to an attendant) Terminal ward, please.

Meanwhile, at the shrine...

Ajere: (Running in) Here, Baba.

Herbalist: Take them to the stream for their bath.

Ajere gives the men two sponges and some black soap and leads
them out. Presently, Baba resumes chanting and light dancing,
with intermittent clinking on a smallish gong. Soon, he starts to
chant utterly incoherent words and phrases and can be seen to be
out of the natural world, warding off – and, at the same time,
ushering in – beings of diverse presence. Then, he picks up the dead
partridges and raises them as an offering to some invisible guests.
Gradually, his mien calms down and he begins to chant his
gratitude to the unseen presences. Hal and Dele enter, but he’s not
caught unawares. He slowly turns to them and stretches a dead
partridge to each of them.

My sons, today is a day each of you must mark


on the stone of his heart. If you forget this day,
you might as well not have been born because
of the consequences it will bring on you.

Hal & Dele: We won’t forget, Baba.

Herbalist: Kneel down and lift up your birds as a sacrifice


to your guardian spirits. Are you certain you
did not sleep with the ladies?

Hal & Dele: No, we didn’t, Baba.


146

Herbalist: Amọnà5 will show you the way to untold


wealth but you have duties to perform. And I
want you to listen very carefully. Ajere will give
you leaves to wrap the birds in. Each of you will
take his bird home. Put it in a calabash that
Ajere will give you. You will hide it in a corner
of your room, or maybe under your bed – just
somewhere no one but only you reach. Buy a
piece of red cloth about the size of a
handkerchief and place the calabash containing
the bird on it. Do you understand me?

Hal & Dele: Very well, Baba.

Herbalist: Dele, how old was your bird?

Dele: (Looks at the bird in his hand) It’s beyond me,


Baba.

Herbalist: That dead bird was your girlfriend, the courier


of all the money you’ll spend for very many
years. Now, do you understand?

Dele: She was twenty-five.

Herbalist: Hal?

Hal: Twenty-three.

Herbalist: (Strikes a gong three times and makes a circular


movement around Dele’s head. He repeats the action
with Hal and goes into a lengthy chant...) Now, as I
say my words, keep mentioning your
147

girlfriends’ names. (Resumes chanting and Hal


and Dele only interject Bessie! and Aminat!) O ya,
o ya, e maa gbe wo’le. O ya, o ya6.

Dele: Aminat!

Hal: Bessie!

At once, Herbalist turns his back on Hal and Dele even as he


continues his chant. Hal and Dele keep on intoning the ladies’
names. Suddenly, Herbalist spins round and shouts E wole wa!7
Immediately afterwards, Bessie and Aminat appear – draped in
white, each bearing on her head a large clay pot.

Herbalist: (Looking happy and pleased) O pari.8 Now, your


turn, my sons. Each of you tell your bird to
release your wealth for today. Hal, you first.

Hal: (Horrified, stutters) Ah, er, Bessie-

Herbalist: (Angrily) No! Talk like that again and she


smashes that pot on your head and you lose
your mind for a hundred years. Not even death
will come to your rescue! Command her in a
firm tone. Now. (Chants and clinks on the gong)

Hal: (Reinvigorated) Bessie, release my wealth for


today.

Gently, Bessie lowers the gigantic pot from her head and puts it on
the floor, beside Hal. Like mist, she disappears without a sound,
while Aminat waits to be instructed.

Herbalist: (Clinking the gong and chanting) Dele!


148

Dele: (Facing her, sternly) Aminat, release my wealth


for today.

Like Bessie, she complies and instantly disappears.

Herbalist: (Quite satisfied) My sons, àbùṣe ti bùṣe.9 This is


the beginning. If your desire was to have money
like no one alive, now you have more than you
can count. But first, my fee.

Hal: We brought it, Baba.

Herbalist: Ajere.

Ajere: (Appearing with a sack) Bàá mi.10

Herbalist: Take them to where they will show gratitude to


Amònà.

Ajere leads them out once again. Presently, they return, still
carrying the birds in their hands.

Ajere: Here we are, Baba.

Herbalist: Ajere, get them a calabash each for their


couriers. Now, sit down and let me guide you
about your couriers of wealth.

Hal and Dele sit on bare floor, both of them taking quick glances at
the enormous pots of money. Ajere enters with two calabashes, one
for each of them.
149

Each of you, open your calabash and put your


bird in it. From this moment, this bird is to be
referred to and thought of as Amúrewá10. You
must learn to keep it fresh for as long as you
hope to be alive, wealthy and sane. (Reaches into
a corner and brings out two sizeable bottles of palm-
oil; offers one to each man.) Here, you must put at
least one drop of this oil on your Amúrewá11 for
as long as you live. You must do this once every
day – at 3 a.m. Every day. Unfailingly. You
must not forget this day. So every year, on this
day, each of you must make an elaborate
sacrifice to the spirit of the lady that has made
all this possible in your life. On this day every
year, between midnight and one o’clock, you
must go to her grave and express your
appreciation of her ultimate goodness to you. In
that one hour, you will eat her favourite meal
with her. Afterwards, you must break into
pieces the plate out of which you ate, and
quickly return home. Then, at 3 a.m. you must
anoint Amúrewá. Just one drop of that oil.
Don’t forget: you anoint Amúrewá every day
until the next year when you return to her grave
for the feast of appreciation and propitiation.
(Looks pryingly at them) Any questions?

Hal: (Huskily; clearing his throat): Baba, what happens


when we’re married- I mean, how can one keep
these things secret from one’s wife?

Herbalist: (Shifting his gaze): Dele?


150

Dele: (Looking rather subdued): Baba, you have to help


us- me.

Herbalist: (Taking firm control) Look, my children. Nothing


good comes easy – I’m sure you know that.
Some people see what we do as cutting corners
or taking shortcuts. What matters is getting
one’s desire. Truly it’s good to wait for God, but
to us humans, who knows if they’d ever be
wealthy? Not all labour yields prosperity.
Which is why the gods make some of us
available to some of you to cause others to serve
you. As for keeping things secret, the surest
way out is to have your own house at once and
dedicate a room in it to Amúrewá. Then, by all
means possible, ensure that no one – did you
hear me? – no one, ensure that no one knows
what goes on there.

Dele: (Cutting in) My concern, Baba, is this- can’t we


keep all these things here – the bird, the
calabashes and so on – and just come to carry
the money from time to time? I mean-

Herbalist: (Sarcastically) If all my clients kept all those


items here, you wouldn’t even have room to
stand. Every time you’re going into that special
room, you must take along a large sack. Use it
to carry all the money into another room where
you’ll keep money always. Your wife can enter
this other room, if you like. But not the first one.
As soon as you fill the sack up with the money,
quickly break the pot into pieces and carry your
151

money and leave the room at once. You cannot


return for any money until 3 a.m. on the
seventh day.

Hal: Baba, how often will Amúrewá bring in money?

Herbalist: Once every seven days. The spirits need a little


rest, too. There’s no need to be afraid of running
out of money before the next visit; Amúrewá
sees the future before you get there and brings
more money than anyone can exhaust in seven
days, however prodigal. Whatever remains on
the sixth night must all be given away –
however much. Or you shall become insane. My
sons, the secret is this: if anyone asks you for
one hundred naira, give them ten thousand. If
they come only once, welcome them a hundred
times. That way, there’ll be a need for Amúrewá
to keep the money flowing.

Dele: (Relaxing a little) That’s quite calming.

Herbalist: (Tinkling a tiny bell somewhat ominously) Now,


the holders of the corners of the earth ask what
you want to give up for all this.

Hal: (Quite taken aback) What do they want?

Herbalist: (Matter-of-factly) You’ll decide what to give


them. The life of every woman that’s married to
you within seven occult seasons, each season
being seven years. Or the lives of your first
seven children in any one marriage. Each child
152

will die on his or her third birthday. Choose.


(Points to a tiny room) Hal, you first. Enter that
room and pledge either of those options. (Hal
goes in.)

Herbalist chants while Hal is in the room. Dele looks totally


confused. Presently, Hal emerges, looking extremely perplexed.

Dele, it’s your turn. (Dele enters.)

Herbalist resumes chanting. A little time later, Dele comes out,


looking woebegone. Ajere comes in with their clothing.

I welcome you both into the fold of those who


send spirits on errands. Now, the moment of
truth. (Very darkly) The covenant today is valid
for many years. That means you shall both be
very wealthy for many years. Hal, for you the
covenant will be for 31 years. This is because, at
the time you brought Bessie’s blood to Amọnà,
she had 31 more years to live. Now, her spirit is
going to serve you for those 31 years. After 31
years, she’ll be free and shall stop bringing
money to you. As for you, Dele, Aminat will
serve you for 43 years. In the year of freedom,
each of you will come to the river at the back of
this shrine for your release bath.

Dele: (Depressed) Ah?

Herbalist: One last thing. Don’t fear that you might die
young. Amọnà will see you through all the
years of validity. (Somewhat trance-like) Now go
into the world and be merry. By the powers of
153

the gods and goddesses of darkness, go and


reap where others sow. Dip your hands into
meals prepared by souls and spirits of remote
stewards. Eat and drink from caverns dug by
the elements. (Tinkles the tiny bell maniacally) Go.
I say, go!

Hal and Dele hurriedly wear their clothes and quickly cram the
money into their sacks and run out of the shrine into their car and
drive off as if pursued by unseen forces.

- End –

Notes
1. Girls, there’s so much gist
2. destiny/fate chosen while kneeling down before the gods
3. so shall it be; amen
4. now, it’s time to...
5. the Ultimate Guide
6. Right now; bring it in.
7. Come right in.
8. It’s all over now.
9. It’s all over now
10. my father
11. harbinger
154

Unit 4

Wish Doctor
155

Abbreviations: WD – Wish Doctor

MM: Mr. Marriedman

WD: (Warmly) Hello, Mr. Marriedman. (Looking through the


patient’s card) Somehow, your name rings a bell. I
mean, I hear it very often. Maybe on TV, or perhaps I
see it in the newspapers. (Suddenly) Yes, I’ve got it; you
married that highflying lady, I think the former beauty
queen whose marriage caused quite a stir in the entire
state. She’s reputed to be the only lady whom very
few men, even the most gentlemanly folks, yes, whom
they all couldn’t bring to saying ‘yes’ to their
advances.

MM: O my God; you know so much about my wife?

WD: Well, we make the public’s interest our main


preoccupation in this business; otherwise, we’d be out
on the streets wringing our fingers in sheer self-pity.

MM: That’s a brilliant business strategy, I must admit.

WD: A strategy indeed. We need to do that so that our


clients wouldn’t be strangers to us after all.

MM: So smart of you.


156

WD: Don’t we all do it? When I go to the shops to buy the


condiments for the prescriptions, hardly can I get past
some folks without them looking at me quizzically,
y’know. Like, don’t I know you? Or, aren’t you the wish
doctor? Such questions, y’know.

MM: Ah-a, that reminds me. Aren’t you a ‘witch’ doctor?


Even you just called yourself a ‘wish’ doctor. Is
everybody having any problem pronouncing ‘witch’?

WD: But I am a wish doctor, not a witch doctor. I take my


clients to higher heights. They tell me what they wish
and I bring it about. That’s why our motto is Wish or
Ditch! Whatever can’t be wished should be ditched.
Simple.

MM: Any wish?

WD Any wish at all. No chanting required.

MM: That’s challenging.

WD: Believe me. Y’see, all that chanting wastes time. The
gods know what you’ll wish and when. And they’re
prepared even before you say a word of it. That’s why
Americans say the gods must be crazy. To the
Americans, anyone who knows what you need but
waits for you to request it before giving it to you must
be crazy. But one of the ironies about us humans is
that we don’t value things that are freely given. So the
gods wait for us to use our own mouth to order our
desire. And you’ll get it, as surely as the night begets
the day. The magic is in you. You wish it, the gods
157

grant it. Absolutely. Y’see, we need to learn to put the


gods to the test.

MM: My wife’s right. She’s been telling me for months that


you could fix anything, even dilapidated marriages,
although I didn’t tell her I was visiting you. But I wish
your art could help my marriage.

WD: Are you making a wish already?

MM: (Rather amused) Ah, well… em, shan’t we discuss your


fees first?

WD: Fine by me. You pay two fifty thousand before the
wish, and one fifty a month after, or the wish will go
back to your stars. Y’know, we bring your wishes to
reality by first consulting your stars. For your
information, everyone has at least fifty thousand stars,
each of which is capable of bringing about at least fifty
thousand wishes. But the majority of people are
unaware of this and they go about dreaming all their
life.

MM: And you, how come you don’t have numerous


material things that can place you above everyone
else?

WD: To the uninitiated, the wish doctor, the witch doctor,


the herbalist, the secret cult initiate and similar
metaphysical professionals have nothing to convince
anyone of their success. What we do is to shroud the
uninitiated with spiritual blindness, so that all you see
158

about us is what we allow you to. I hope that makes


some sense to you.

MM: Whatever! Well, where do I pay?

WD: (Speaks into the intercom) Secretary, please come in.

Secretary comes in and she receives an envelope containing money


from Mr. Marriedman.

MM: That’s about three hundred thousaqnd naira. I’ll pay


you the remaining hundred after the wish has worked
for a month.

WD: Well, let’s get started, shall we? Sorry, all money paid
here is non-refundable. Plus, we don’t reverse wishes.
Why, because the stars aren’t some unserious beings.
And since there are over a million wishes that you can
bring about by merely desiring them, why would
anyone want to retract any? Make the most of this
secret of fulfilment, joy and happiness. Now, if you are
ready to make a wish.

MM: Yes, why not?

WD: From your looks, you don’t seem to be having much


fun.

MM: You got me there.

WD: Get it out of your life at once; no one deserves less than
a great feeling of satisfaction and pleasure once in a
while.
159

MM: Unfortunately, some of us were born to play host to


the blues.

WD: The blues notwithstanding, you should be a gleaming


shaft of hope to all those beckoning to the shrink.

MM: But I need his help now, I guess.

WD: Well, if you’ll wish, the stars will get it out of you in a
sec.

MM: It’s my wife, doc.

WD: Oh, that angel. I’m sure it’s something less than a tiff.

MM: A thief, I’d rather you’d said. She seems to have lost a
host of her properties.

WD: Now you’re leaving me behind. (Pointing to the fridge)


Something to drink, perhaps?

MM: That’ll definitely boost the bill.

WD: Ah, well. Now, what’s this loss, Mr. Marriedman?

MM: Well, no one in these parts would deny that I married


one of the most gorgeous ladies that ever lived around
here – what with her vital statistics, gait, decorum and
breeding.

WD: (Concurring) The real McCoy, I’d say.


160

MM: The tabloids all published her photos for weeks after
the wedding. Oh, the blowjob they did for her physical
adornments – if you’ll pardon my language.

WD: Oh, you’re reading my mind! They simply advertised


her. The papers seemed as if they had no one else to
pin up on their page three. And the public- oh, did
they make so much hoo-ha of her grandeur! To think
that even the governor was rumoured at the time to
have a huge collection of her salacious photos in his
toilet kit.

MM: The most painful part is the money I spent securing


the premises to ensure that no one got near her in my
absence. The high electrified fence, the guards – both
human and canine – the appointments in the house,
etc. all to ensure that I had her full-time to myself!

WD: (With genuine agitation in his voice) She’s not dead, is


she?

MM: Nothing close to it, although… (Cagily) to tell the truth,


I wish she were.

WD: Is that the wish?

MM: (Emphatically) No! Not at all!

WD: I’m sorry, but I was carried away by seeing you feel
this way. She is such a rare one.

MM: Yes, she is; she was, really. But a rare thing seems to
have befallen her.
161

WD: Menopause?

MM: What’s that?

WD: Y’know, one of those things that afflict a woman in


late middle age. Can be quite terrifying, y’know, but
it’s not life sentence. You can wish that she’d never
reach menopause.

MM: (Dismissively) I don’t know if that’s the medical name


but I doubt its affinity to her present state.

WD: Occasional bouts of epilepsy, I hope not?

MM: I beg your pardon?

WD: I’m sorry, no offence intended.

MM: Doc, all I can say is that everything I ever gaped at


now droops.

WD: ’Ts why I suspected epilepsy.

MM: Man, you’re so clueless!

WD: You mean…?

MM: (Angrily) No, not epilepsy. Y’see, it’s all about her
body.

WD: Oh, now I’m catching up with you.


162

MM: Y’see, doc, my wife’s physical charm is going to the


dogs.

WD: Well, some women play around with lechers when


they suspect their husband is showing a lack of
interest in them, or when they need more attention
from their man.

MM: (With clenched teeth) I don’t mean all that. She’s not a
whore. (Raising his voice impatiently) Can’t you figure
out anything?

WD: Did you pay me to figure things out? Every client’s


case is unique. Now, you tell me precisely what has
gone wrong. What is your wish, Mr. Marriedman?

MM: Okay, then. My wife’s beauty has left her. Totally. I


look at her these days and I’m filled with serious
disgust. Food seems to want to come back to life from
my bowels and I feel like leaving home altogether.
Anything to get out and be alone. All that engaging
appeal and almost unparalleled charm seem to have
been a flash in the pan. O my God, I feel stupid.
Y’know, sometimes I ask myself as Paul asked the
Galatians, Who has bewitched you? Everything that can
fall on her body her has fallen.

WD: (Sympathetically) Mr. Marriedman, don’t work yourself


up. Y’know, as our people say, a snake is never as long
as the stick to which we compare it.

MM: You’re right; sometimes it’s longer than the stick.


163

WD: Now, let’s get to the point, shall we? What exactly are
you saying?

MM: Well, y’see, shortly after our wedding, she became


pregnant and in spite of it she was still the pick of the
pack. Even after our second child, she was still a sight.
The third pregnancy seemed to imbue her with a lot
more beauty and charm than any man would have
expected. In any case, now, after about fifteen years of
marriage and only four children, my wife has
suddenly become one of the dregs in town. Honestly,
I used to be simultaneously filled with pride and rage
to see men crash into trees while looking at my wife
even with their own wives beside them. And that
increased her worth in my heart. In fact, like land in
the city, she appreciated with the havoc her beauty
brought into the lives of lecherous admirers. And let
me put it bluntly. At that time, merely looking at her
gave me the most turgid hard-on a man could muster
even with Viagra. These days, I could spend a whole
year without touching any part of her body. In fact, if
she announced that she would like to spend the next
ten years in the remotest part of the world, I would
gladly pay double for the trip. In short, she has lost
what the man in me craved in the lady in her. If you
don’t mind me being so crude, I’d say that her nipples
have gone from looking me in the face to focusing on
her toes. And when you get down to the crux of the
matter, the real stage of play, I find myself offering a
whistle while the cranny is yawning for a sax. I’m
sorry if I’m leaving nothing to the imagination but
Doc, if only…
164

WD: Mr. Marriedman, I wasn’t born yesterday. I


understand you very well. Moreover, I’m a man
myself and I realise that we all walk that street at one
time or the other. As sure as your father is older than
you, ha-ha.

MM: But can’t I make a wish about it?

WD: Oh yes, you may. You paid for it, didn’t you? Yeah,
why not?

MM: May I wish now, then?

WD: Not so fast, or you’ll lose more than you bargain for.

MM: Really?

WD: Y’see, Mr. Marriedman, some wishes will remain mere


wishes forever unless the sources of certain problems
are wished away, creating the only way one can
achieve a present wish.

MM: That’s quite logical.

WD: Good. Now we’re in business. (Ushering him into an


inner room) This way, Mr. Marriedman.

MM: (Overwhelmed) God, this place looks eerie.

WD: (Assuring) Nothing to be afraid of. This is the wishing


room, rather a small version of the confluence of
heaven and hell. The spirits of Creation meet and
disperse here. The gods are invoked here. This is the
165

rendezvous for several billion stars and their gazers.


To enlighten you further, zones like this abound in
hundreds of buildings all over the country where
agents of spiritual engagements conduct wedlock
between physical beings and spiritual entities. Men
and women take vows here for diverse conjugal
concerns, one of which you’re here to conduct on
behalf of your wife and you. Your wish will affect her
directly, y’know.

MM: (Readily) Absolutely. Yes, that’s very true.

WD: (Pointing to a really spooky object wrapped in a dirty cloth,


laid beside a fresh-looking human tongue) Place your right
hand on the tongue and the left one on that object. The
tongue is a kind of transmitter for your wish, and the
shrouded item is a mystical mascot assembling the
gods and the stars. Together, they make every wish an
instant reality. If you’re ready, make your wish with
one eye closed. You’ll get an immediate vision of the
granted wish with the other eye. Here (Offering him a
small amulet), wear this before making the wish; it
stabilises your inner man. When you finish, come back
into the antechamber. (Departs)

MM: (Somehow feebly) I wish that my wife would get back to


being as beautiful as she was before I married her and
become the hunger of all eyes once again! (Cocks his
head to a side as if listening for a sound; then, rubs his eyes
to confirm something.) I can’t say I’ve had any vision.
(Makes for the antechamber) Doc, did you say I’d see a
vision of the confirmation of my wish?
166

WD: (Sarcastically) Well, didn’t you see any?

MM: I know for a certainty that one doesn’t need sight to


see visions.

WD: In that case, I should say that your wish misfired.


Y’know…

MM: How on earth can a mere wish misfire?

WD: Now you call something that’s gradually killing you a


mere wish? If that’s how you feel about it, why
wouldn’t it misfire?

MM: (Quite subdued) Oh! What should I have done, Doc?

WD: Did you do it as we outlined?

MM: I’ve followed instructions all my waking life, Doc. As


for attention to detail, I’m not a spring chicken.

WD: No one can make successful wishes in an attitude of


arrogance. Stop boasting.

MM: Okay, I stand corrected.

WD: Now, did you first wish away the root cause of the
floppiness damaging your wife’s breasts? Or those that
led to the weight around her waist and all the ugly
stretch marks on her tummy? How could you make a
successful wish about her slack genitalia if you failed
to wish away the real cause of the looseness in that
legendary zone?
167

MM: Oh my goodness! I didn’t know the cause of any of


those.

WD: I’ll tell you, Mr. Marriedman.

MM: (Eagerly) I wish them away at once!

WD: (Shaking his head pathetically) No, no, no, Mr.


Marriedman. You need to call the problem by the
name society calls it.

MM: And that is…?

WD: Are you ready this time?

MM: As ready as stones shatter glass.

WD: Then let’s go back into the wishing chamber and do it


all over.

MM: (Compliant) Right away, Doc. (Goes back into the room)
Ready for real, Doc.

WD: Remember you’re wishing away the cause of the


problems?

MM: (Stoutly) By name, too.

WD: Here we go, then. The sole cause of the flabbiness,


looseness and general loss of beauty in your wife is
children. The children she’s borne you. Now, place
168

your right hand on the tongue and the left one on that
object…

MM: You must be crazy if you think…

WD: (As before) When you finish, come back into the
antechamber. (Departs)

MM: (Running out of the room) You’re nuts, I say. (Quickly


exits, cursing as he departs)

WD: (Checking that Mr. Marriedman is very much out of sight)


Madam, please come out. He’s gone. (Secretary emerges
with a very fat lady) Thank you so much, Mrs.
Marriedman. Your business has given mine a big
boost. (To the Secretary) Let her have her 50% of the
fees her husband paid. We hope to see you again
soon.

-End-
169

Unit 6

The Mistreatment of History

T
he three accounts
below are an
illustration of what
happens when the history of
a people is ignored. Whether
we like it or not, fables and
similar creative ‘pastimes’
become fact, leading to a
totally disoriented and
rootless species of mankind.
170

The Nations Called ‘Yorùbá’


(Discovered parchment during an excavation in
Ake-Abeokuta in January 1518)

Account 10
(As provided by Ológunkúteré, the First Ruler of the
Kingdom)

O
F ALL THE PEOPLES OF THE WORLD, the Yorùbá
(to be found in Western Africa, Haiti, Brazil, and in
many other prosperous nations of the world) are
lucky to have true supports for their myths. Although in
recent times these myths could be dismissed as old wives’
tales, or as taboos meant to discourage the wayward from
unruly or rebellious behaviour, the truth is that about 400,000
years ago, when the Yorùbá were still a people united in spite
of their diverse cultures and introverted practices, these
myths had the unassuming efficacy of most potent modern
devices in warding off trespassers to the sacred shrines of
communal mores. The civilization of the era was such that
thieves were caught by a representative of the Oracle who
simply looked into a bowl containing water drawn from the
lagoon, the lake, the sea, the brook, the stream, the river and
the well. The belief then, which was hardly refuted or
sneered at by any sane member of the community – for fear
of losing his or her sanity and being confined to the outskirts
of the town – was that such an unusual convocation of the
spirits of numerous gods and goddesses that inhabited these
disparate samples of the Water element would create
confusion among the entities, such that whatever the
representative of the Oracle sought to see or know while
171

looking into the bowl would be immediately granted by these


opposing forces of the marine realm.

Now, the representative did not perform this detective


assignment just anywhere, not even in his own temple. The
normal venue was a crossroads, and all the town’s
inhabitants were assembled there – including the king or any
other potentate who might have ordered the investigation.
The choice of the crossroads was hinged on the evil forces
that attended such rituals. It was generally believed that if
the spirits in the bowl got too fierce and the calabash or bowl
became torn apart as a result of their tussle for ascendancy,
the offspring and descendants of the representative or the
owner of the homestead where the event took place would
forever be at loggerheads, a fact that explains the eternal
rivalry and enmity existing before now between the peoples
now referred to as Ìjẹbú, Ẹgbá, Èkìtì, Ọyọ and so on.

The story is that these were the offspring of one of the most
powerful metaphysical diviners of an ancient Yorùbá
farmstead, a man by the name of Káàárọ Oòjíire. These
children of his ministered to him on such occasions right in
the middle of their farmstead – despite Òrúnmìlà’s earlier
admonition not to do the divination within one’s premises.
Having been fortunate and successful over time, Káàárọ
Oòjíire’s luck ran out one morning when one of the brood
accidentally tipped over the bowl containing the belligerent
marine spirits. At once, their language was confused and no
two of them understood each other’s words. As the water
seeped into the earth, Káàárọ Oòjíire himself suddenly
disappeared and his children – Ìjẹbú, Ẹgbá, Èkìtì, Ọyọ and so
on – fled in utter terror in different directions all over the
world, followed of course by diverse groups of clansmen,
172

depending on whom you supported. Then followed a series


of wars by the descendants of Ìjẹbú, Ẹgbá, Èkìtì, Òyó, etc. In
fact, so strong was the malady in each segregated homestead
that they thought it necessary to distinguish one another by
whatever physical features they could use, and it was this
need to be different that goaded Ọyọ into introducing facial
marks for his own children and loyalists. Soon afterwards,
his siblings’ supporters followed suit and Ọyọ thought he had
introduced a revolutionary identity blueprint, causing him to
proclaim the ever-popular slogan, Ajísebí Ọyọ l’àánrí; Ọyọ ò se
bíi baba enìkankan (Translated, this means: It is normal for us to
see people who imitate Ọyọ; Ọyọ does not imitate anybody’s father).

The rivalry, ethnic clashes, long-drawn wars all became so


numerous that some time afterwards, some sensible powerful
semi-gods and semi-goddesses arose in each clan who sued
for the re-unification of the children of Káàárọ Oòjíire, and it
later became an adage that whenever two or more Yorùbá
people had a misunderstanding, it was generally asked, Are
you not a child [or children] of Káàárọ Oòjíire? As if asked by
the Oracle himself, the feuding parties would abandon their
argument and make friends with each other. At other times,
in order to unite any opposing sides, an elder that had a little
wisdom usually enjoined them to come together, as we are
[all] children of Káàárọ Oòjíire. It is this clause of being Káàárọ
Oòjíire’s offspring that led to the formation of Oòdu’à
People’s Congress, a present-day Pan- Yorùbá movement for
the spread of [understanding among] the offspring of Káàárọ
Oòjíire at home and abroad.

These days, however, the Yorùbá do not take divination for


granted, and anyone upholding the practice usually selects a
‘demilitarised’ zone – like the crossroads – for his assignment.
173

This is because should anything happen, his own offspring


would be safe and sane, but discord and disaster would go
after whomever the cantankerous spirits find at the scene of
the incident, should the calabash be broken. What is more,
this is why the Yorùbá never want to build their houses at
areas where three or more paths meet…
174

Blindness among the Yorùbá


(and other peoples of Nigeria):
Ẹja Nlá, Tàlùbọ, and Igi Ganganran
Account 13
(As told by Lámurúdu, Odùduwà’s love-child)

…A
ND SUCH WAS THE CASE AMONG
HUMANS that neighbours did not like one
another and friends soon became enemies
over issues that their great grandfathers and similar forebears
sometimes felt ashamed of their posterity, and so incensed
were they against their progeny that these forebears
sometimes sent hail with the rain and locust with the harvest
– anything to make life unendurable for the wicked and the
righteous alike. Soon afterwards, these suffering descendants
of the Yorùbá race put heads together with friends and foes
and decided to consult the Oracle on their interminable fate
in the hands of the gods. The Oracle was very frank with
them and hinted them of the displeasure of their ancestors
about the lack of wisdom, love and justice among their
offspring.

Asked for a way out of their perennial misery, the Oracle sent
to them his personal assistant, Aṣojú (literally “the Oracle’s
Eye”) who was reputed to see farther and deeper than the
Oracle himself but who, on account of a deficiency in his
family, had pledged subordination to the Oracle. Aṣojú had
175

three impish children – Ẹja Nlá, Tàlùbò, and Igi Ganganran –


each of whom was a great diviner. Because they were never
seen by any human eye, nobody knew if they were male or
female. Even their patrons could not tell their gender, as the
problems they took to the diviners’ shrines usually made
them fail to remember such nosiness. To worsen matters,
Aṣojú’s children did not have any fixed addresses but
attended to their clients almost anywhere, catching such
customers unawares – sometimes appearing to them in their
sleep or grabbing them by the neck and giving them a raw
rap on the head while defecating in a concealed part of
another man’s farm.

The Oracle plainly informed Aṣojú of the need to institute


wisdom, peace and justice among the scattered offspring of
Káàárọ Oòjíire, and to bring to book the civil offender –
whoever he might be. Aṣojú knew that this was a tall order,
but on account of his children’s fail-safe insight, he took a fee
from his master and set to work, assuring the Oracle as well
as Káàárọ Oòjíire’s descendants all over the world of ‘a result
soon’.

Now, to the Yorùbá, creation was divided into three – in


accordance with certain (meta)physical exigencies. Thus, Ẹja
Nlá resided in the deep blue sea and other forms of water,
specializing in punishing evildoers with unbearable hurting
in their eyes, which would gradually result in blindness. Ẹja
Nlá executed this ‘nemesis’ by spitting some aquatic venom
in their eyes and insidiously causing the eyes to rot. Even if
the evil person died young, it was the case that the eyes
would rot before he or she was buried. Ẹja Nlá’s patrons
usually sang concerning imagined terrors and foes in their
lives, praying that such people would go to the river to bathe
176

and Ẹja Nlá would gouge their eyes out. Indeed, so effective
was Ẹja Nlá at this ‘service’ that numerous musicians among
the offspring of Káàárọ Oòjíire set Ẹja Nlá’s unique ability to
music and in no time at all it became a legendary invocation
against all of anyone’s detractors.

Igi Ganganran, on the other hand, was terrestrial. Being


rather circumspect and wise, Igi Ganganran usually attacked
foolish wicked folks. To Igi Ganganran, it was enough that
one was wicked, but to be foolish in addition was
unforgivable. However, shrewd evil folks rarely came to any
harm, because they knew that Igi Ganganran might be
watching them unseen. In fact, the admonition among the
offspring of Káàárọ Oòjíire was that at no time at all should
one just leave one’s eyes open, lest Igi Ganganran should jab
one in the eye and rob one of sight. A very popular saying
among wise Yorùbá people which has been passed from
generation to generation is, for Igi Ganganran not to poke you in
the eye, you need to watch [him] steadily from a distance.

Of the three children of Aṣojú, the queerest was Tàlùbò, who


has remained invisible through time. Believed to be in the air
all the time, Tàlùbò’s boastful proclamations were summed
up in this cryptic assertion: Dare you leave your eyes open for an
instant and I will surpass your greatest surprise so far; I am
Tàlùbò, the eye-blinder! Listening to Tàlùbò’s timeless boasts,
the people soon believed that Tàlùbọ was quite omnipresent,
and they counselled one another on the need to be on the
lookout at all times. As they said, one should not carelessly
leave one’s eyes open, lest Tàlùbọ should enter them.

The activities of these three imps are evident among the


various peoples of Nigeria. In fact, to avoid conflict in their
177

operations, Aṣojú’s children looked for particular clans to


attack. While, for instance, the Yorùbá these days usually
curse their foes and detractors with an encounter with Ẹja
Nlá, Ẹja Nlá always ignores prospective Yorùbá victims and
would rather either Igi Ganganran or Tàlùbọ discharged the
‘duty’. However, because most Hausa people do not
understand the Yorùbá language, and because the liquid
contained in the Hausa eye is ‘tastier’, Ẹja Nlá prefers to
gouge out Hausa eyes. Ẹja Nlá’s undertaking was not only to
make people blind but also to render them ‘eyeless’ (so that
there was no room for any eye- or sight-restoration miracle)
and it was generally believed that Ẹja Nlá greatly relished
feeding on human eyes! This fact is greatly underscored by
the number of blind and eyeless Hausa people around the
world. Igi Ganganran’s conquests are more easily on hand
among the Yorùbá who are very prone to conjunctivitis and
glaucoma, while Tàlùbọ infects anyone – young or old – with
cataracts. Other eye problems, e.g. shortsightedness, far-
sightedness, bàìbàì (the Yorùbá word for unsteady vision),
àfọta (blindness without cure), sòkèdilẹ (a form of blindness in
which a hill looks like a valley) etc. are all the handiwork of
Aṣojú’s children.

In truth, part of the wisdom, order, peace and justice that the
Yorùbá enjoy today are as a result of the terrorising presence
of these three children of Aṣojú. The wisdom is in accepting
the proverb encoding any of the names as the only course of
action whenever occasion demands it…
178

Why Some People Talk The Way They Do


Account 15
(As told by Móremí Àjàsorò, Ifa’s great-granddaughter)

T
HE YORUBA PEOPLE ARE SOMETIMES PERPLEXED
about some people’s behaviour or reasoning, especially
when the time calls for extreme seriousness. At such
times, the other person may display a trait that we find rather
unbecoming, unusual, or simply defiant of social mores.
Such unusualness is found mostly in speech when, for
instance, we expect our interlocutor to conform to certain
expectations of conversational interaction. Here is, to put
paid to our shock when confronted with reasoning that we
think has gone wonky, an explanation extrapolated from the
lineage of Ọṣìn (pronounced aw-sheen), by reason of the
(shall we say ‘eccentric’) traits exhibited by the members of
the family tree. For the purposes of relevance, we should be
content to call the tree ‘The Kótokòto Family Tree”.

Figure 1 The Kótokòto Family Tree


179

Ọṣìn, one of the earliest settlers on earth among the Yoruba,


gave birth to numerous children each of whom was gifted
with unique powers to achieve different ends. The following
account illustrates the gift possessed by one of her children,
Odù, whose power was the use of speech, and how this
power was passed down to the children born in his lineage.

Odù
He was famous for mythical sayings, aphorisms and
amphibolies, to the extent that Ifá priests consulted him on
nearly all divinations. In ancient times, he predicted that if
one of the gods in the Yoruba pantheon went to war against a
god in another clan, the Yoruba god would destroy one of the
most important gods on earth. Unfortunately, the Yoruba
god went to war with the hope of destroying the enemy but
he was killed. Accused of not predicting accurately, Odù
disclosed that he knew that pride would not let the Yoruba
god know that in going to war against another god, he
himself would be killed and thereby destroy one of the most
important gods on earth – the god himself. Since then, Ifá
priests have always talked in amphibolies – statements that
mean almost the reverse of what the hearer thinks the
speaker means, that is if they think such statements mean
anything at all. Parents these days employ amphibolies; for
example, when they tell their child, “I’m going out now; as
soon as I’m out of sight, just start disturbing the peace of the
neighbourhood…”

Ìtàn
This son of Odù was mainly interested in the whys and the
wherefores of issues and phenomena. Ìtàn is usually invoked
when something goes wrong and people are looking for an
explanation. For instance, when children ask, ‘Mummy, why
180

do people kill mosquitoes?’ any explanation given is an


invocation of Ìtàn’s preoccupation. These days, when women
ask, ‘But why are men like that’ – maybe on hearing that a
man has impregnated his housemaid – know for sure that
they want to hear ‘ìtàn’. However, whenever Yoruba people
lose their patience with someone trying to give a lengthy
account of a simple incident, they remark that all that the
person is saying is ìtàn – an unnecessary attention to detail.
Ìtàn had two children, a set of twins (Àròyé and Àlàyé) who,
right from the time they were born, were different in
everything except their progenitors. Àròyé believed in
interminable exegesis while Àlàyé was a rather succinct,
straight-to-the-point, and lucid speaker. While the former
would go to great lengths to establish the background details
of issues, the latter normally offered factual accounts of
incidents. Àlàyé’s accounts were usually sufficient during a
conversation.

Àròyé
Àròyé’s chief preoccupation was expatiation and lengthy
analyses of events, whether these were natural or
supernatural. Such was this trait in her that even the act of
eating had to have a reason other than hunger. Sometimes
she offered the reason to disabuse anyone of thinking that she
was a glutton. Perhaps it may be said that Àròyé’s manner of
speech led to the Yoruba being called the ‘Ngbàtí’ people.
The word ‘ngbàtí’ means when, while, at the time that, as soon
as, the moment that, no sooner than, hardly…when…, once (you’ve
done something), and similar temporal adverbials.
Considering how frequently these occur in the speech of the
average Yoruba person, people of other tribes started calling
them Ngbàtí people. But it is not so much the word ngbàtí as
the felt need to give a lengthy explanation – used mostly to
181

extricate oneself from trouble – that characterised Àròyé, and


subsequently all people – Yoruba or otherwise – trying to use
speech to get out of trouble.

Àwáwí
Owing to the close relationship between Àròyé and her
children, there was great resemblance in their speech
mannerisms. While Àròyé was principally interested in
justifying her actions at the expense of the patience of her
interlocutor, Àwáwí and her sisters took the art to a higher
level – one that bordered on irrelevance and a waste of time.
By this development, Àwáwí’s own style was one that
spurned extenuating reason in favour of specious excuse.
Asked why she stole a piece of meat from her mother’s pot,
for instance, she would tell you: Last week, on Monday – and we
all know that Monday is the day that comes immediately after the
day that comes before it – yes, on that day, Monday, to be precise, I
woke up feeling a bit nauseous, and I thought to myself – as our
people say, one should think to oneself once in a while – so I thought
if I went on brooding about my nausea – and you all know that
nausea is a terrible feeling – I remember the first time I saw a
pregnant woman by the road on the way to the market. Yes, she
was almost due to be delivered of a baby – in fact, my prayer is that
all our pregnant women should be safely delivered of their babies,
Amen. As I was saying… Such was the train of thought that
characterised Àwáwí that impatient listeners were fond of
telling people with a similar trend of speech that “All that is
àwáwí; what exactly are you saying in a nutshell?” In fact,
when the Yoruba people ask anyone, Kínni kókó? (meaning:
What’s the point?), they are insinuating àwáwí.

As a matter of fact, Àwáwí’s hobbyhorse comprises litigation,


excuses and alibis – the lawyer’s stock-in-trade. These were
182

preferred to the simple truth even when the truth was all that
one needed to provide.

Òfófó
Of all the descendants of Ọṣìn, Òfófó was the least physically
appealing, being so gaunt and ungainly, and of an
appearance much like that of a mendicant. Her appearance
was attributed to the inordinate preoccupation to concern
herself with matters of the least importance and with issues
that affected other people. Once while she was in the King’s
employment, her office was that of the town crier, and it was
through her that news of events and happenings in and
around the kingdom and beyond was relayed to the subjects.
But worse than this, Òfófó was a busybody, buttonholing
people at the slightest opportunity and always eager to fill
them in on the most recent events – even about their spouses.
Her main preface to most conversational encounters was
“Have you heard…?”. In time, however, the whole town knew
that she was rather an ill wind, and would not allow Òfófó to
come near them, for fear of being blown about by her hobby.
This later led to the short song common among little Yoruba
children: Olóòfófó yẹ’ra, a fẹ s’ọrọ awo (meaning: Let the
talebearer step aside, we want to discuss some confidential
matters).

Kótokòto (also known as Kátakàta and Kátikàti)


Compared with other children in the lineage, Kótokòto had
the unusual behaviour of talking off the subject. It was
attributed to some damage to the part of the brain that
controlled her speech. This damage prevented the orderly
presentation of thought, even desire. Whenever Kótokòto
was asked a question, she was sure of bringing in irrelevant
183

details. This defect caused so many people to suspect that


she had mental problem. For so many centuries now, among
the Yoruba, people suffering from Alzheimer’s disease are
said to be afflicted with “àrùn kótokòto” (Kótokòto’s disease),
especially as this relates to their speech. The same condition
is noticed in people who seem to have taken too much
alcohol and have incoherent speech. They are described as
talking Kótokòto (or kátakàta or kátikàti). To sum up,
Kótokòto was extremely fond of illogical and tenuous
reasoning, specious declarations and puerile jabber.

Àlàyé
As pointed out earlier, Àlàyé was a factual young man. He
wasted no time at all in discussing only the important details
of events. The entire kingdom was deeply impressed by his
succinct, precise and analytical speech patterns and it was no
wonder that most Yoruba people always requested the àlàyé
(meaning factual, orderly account) of events before they
decided what to do. Following his example, people now
generally ask others to give them the “àlàyé of the matter” –
that is, the issue in its proper perspective.

Ọrọ
Àlàyé’s only child was Ọrọ. Àlàyé took Ọrọ with him
everywhere he went, and soon, Ọrọ started talking like his
father, Àlàyé. Before long, the kingdom started appreciating
Ọrọ’s direct style, and whenever people listened to anyone
who talked in a manner like that of Àlàyé, they remarked that
Àlàyé was the soul of conversation; in other words, that
without Àlàyé, much conversation was trash or, at best, a
waste of time. That is why, up till this day, Yoruba people
184

emphatically assert, “Àlàyé bàbá Ọrọ” (meaning, ‘without


Àlàyé, there is no conversation’)

From this brief account of The Kótokòto Family Tree, it is easy


for anyone to understand why some people talk in a
particular way – especially if they are Yoruba…
185

Unit 7

Valentine’s Day Blues*

H
ow much do you know about Val’s Day? Put that
knowledge to the test in this VAL’S DAY BLUES.

Important! You must share this quiz with other Valentinians


like you.

1. February 14th! Today is best called a day for -----. (6


letters)
2. It’s a day many remember that special ------ in their life.
(6 letters)
3. It’s a day to let them know that you have ---- for them. (4
letters)
4. This is a great opportunity to spread your ---- (9 letters)
5. For some it’s a day of great ------- : one they’ll never
forget. (7 letters)
6. For others, it may be a time to experience true ----! (4
letters)
7. On the 15th, ------ ladies will return to their loneliness (6
letters) and
8. Married women will have their husband back with --- (3
letters)
9. Ah, Val’s Day! It’s so ---------! (9 letters)
10. I ---- it. (4 letters)

* Answers on next page.


186

Answers

1. IDIOTS not LOVERS


2. VICTIM not PERSON
3. LIES not LOVE
4. INFECTION not AFFECTION
5. REGRETS not ROMANCE
6. PAIN not LOVE
7. ABUSED not SINGLE
8. HIV not JOY
9. MISERABLE not WONDERFUL
10. HATE not LOVE

Well, are you still looking forward to next year’s Val’s Day?
187

Unit 8

Curing Nigeria’s Political Hang-up:


APC or PIDIPILLIN?

Doctor: Good morning, Uncle Nig.


Patient: Doctor, good morning o. Or is it really
morning?
Doctor: Yes, it is, sir. Why, are you losing your
sight?
Patient: At 55 years, shouldn’t my eyes be dim?
Doctor: Not really, Uncle Nig. Especially if you’ve
been living a healthful life.
Patient: Ah, how does one do that?
Doctor: There are numerous people older than
you who are still quick-witted,
coherent in speech, thorough in action,
and quite credible in their promises.
Patient: But is it too late for me to enjoy good
health, prosperity and vitality like those
other people?
Doctor: Not at all, Uncle Nig.
188

Patient: Then give me the medicine and let me


regain my life!
Doctor: It won’t happen by any thoughtless
prescription. By the way, where’s the
x-ray I requested?
Patient: Here, my son.
Doctor: (Examining the x-ray; alarmed) Uncle Nig, I
have to be frank with you. All the
systems in your body are totally
compromised. Do you see all these large
holes? In a manner of speaking, they
signify that your ozonosphere is gone. In
plain terms, you’re completely eaten up
by some reckless predators and swarms
of consuming parasites! How do you feel,
by the way?
Patient: I have pains all over me. I’m sure I have a
cancer or something.
Doctor: Uncle Nig, you do have cancers indeed.
But what drugs have you been taking?
Patient: For about 16 years, I have been taking
Pidipillin.
189

Doctor: Pidipillin? Ah, all your former doctors


and consultants are to blame. In fact, if
you keep taking Pidipillin, your life
expectancy is only one or two years at the
most.
Patient: (Alarmed) Why?
Doctor: This is why. You see, Uncle Nig,
Pidipillin is one of the worst antibiotics
in modern times. Yes, it’s a cancer-based
anti-biotic. Anti- because it is totally
against all forms of life, development and
progress. You know ‘biotic’ refers to ‘life,
the condition of living organisms’. So, if
you keep taking Pidipillin, Uncle Nig,
you cannot live to see your children’s
children.
Patient: Is it that serious?
Doctor: Yes, Uncle Nig. The simple fact is that
Pidipillin contains a dangerous life-
shortening chemical complex, called PDP.
No country in the world wants to
recommend it to its citizens!
Patient: So, I’m simply a cadaver now?
190

Doctor: Well, that’s what your x-ray says. You


have been infected and affected by
unnatural disasters: pervasive misrule,
incompetence, inordinate ambition and
mediocrity. These are all indications of
PDP. But we can flush all these out of
your system if you can take just two
doses of this analgesic. Here, Uncle Nig.
Take one tablet on the 14th and the second
tablet two weeks later. That is, on the 28th.
Patient: Only two tablets of APC. One on the 14th
and the other on the 28th? And I won’t be
sick again?
Doctor: Only if you stick to my advice.
Patient: God I thank you o. From now on, me, my
family, my friends, my colleagues – in
fact, anyone who has an ear to hear – we
will take only APC. No more Pidipillin!
My life must CHANGE!

Written in 2015
191

Unit 9

Rhyming as Passion

T
ake a word, find one that
ends like it – and, there,
you have a rhyme. And
then, go on from line to line and
end your thoughts as in the last
line. Before you know it, you’re
rhyming like no man’s
business.
192

Whose hand the Lord shook

If ‘take’ in the past is ‘took’


Then, ‘make’ also should be ‘mook’!
All my friends on the Facebook
And every foe and every crook
Please note that writing in rhymes is no fluke.
If you read Matthew, Mark or Luke
Or John or any other Bible book;
It doesn’t matter if you’re a poet or cook,
An old professor or an up-and-coming rook –
Rhyming only takes a careful look.
You may rack your brain till you puke
Or think up some stupid gobbledygook –
Even look for inspiration in a cranny or nook:
The gift comes not by crook or by hook
But to those whose hand the Lord shook.
193

A Girl Named Tina


I remember when I was a teen'er
I met one girl named Tina.
Than her, no one was thinner
I think she was born in Minna
By one man - a shoe shiner.
But the girl was a winner
And her beauty - a head spinner.
And made many a man a sinner -
They took her shopping at Lagos marina
Bought her different shoes, including Cortina.
Even gave drinks like Maltina.
Played her music by Salawa and even Shina.
They took her to countries like China
And told her she was finer
Than Jolie Angelina!
Every man wanted to see her "inner"
She said "I'm just a beginner".
They said, "Let me just see your panty-liner".
She said, "I only wear designer".
They said, "Your kind of container
Needs my type of opener."
One said, "Do you know I'm a commissioner?"
She said, "My container is only for a foreigner."
They said, "What if he's a prisoner?"
She said, "Even if he's an executioner!
And don't forget, I'm the owner!"
One told her, "I'm an international crooner."
She said, "Whatever! You're on the back burner!
I need a man that's a miner -
One that digs like a gunner
Or pounds in a thrilling manner!
Or my name isn't Tina!'
194

Cure For Flu

Once, my parrot had flu.


And so it flew
To the city of Honolulu –
To visit the famous witch, Lulu
Who cured every sickness with her voodoo.
She sent my parrot to her loo
To produce a bowl of poopoo.
The colour of the poopoo was blue.
And Lulu mixed the poopoo with glue,
Locked my parrot up in her igloo –
With a cat that cried ‘mew’
And a sheep that bleated ‘moo’.
With the poopoo that was blue
And a large amount of glue,
Lulu made a bowl of fufu,
And commanded, ‘Eat it, all of you –
Cat, parrot, and ewe!”
Soon afterwards, my parrot started to coo
And that cured its flu.
Now, what would you do
If that parrot were you?
195

National Item

Lover: Hey, babe, those breasts look larger


than usual; what's the trick?

Lady: They're padded.

Lover: Uh, why?

Lady: Ever heard of environmental


pollution?

Lover: As in...?

Lady: Don't be daft, honey. I work in the


National Budget Department.
Everything and everybody is
padded!
196

LOOKING FOR A MARKETER

Hello, Mr. Promoter, hey!


Don’t go, please stay.
Every worker has a payday –
Ask Michael Jackson, 2Pac or Olamide.
Forget where we come from – Nigeria or USA.
Somebody’s got to pay
For all these things I write or say.
Do you think rhyming is child’s play?
My rhyme’s sweet like the music of Sunny Ade,
Pleasant like the folk songs of Ebenezer Obey,
Blessed with the passion of Pastor Adeboye,
Spiced with the smoothness of J.T Kalejaye,
And adorned with the sting of Pastor Tunde Bakare.
Be that as it may
Wherever you dare to survey –
Be it Naija or faraway Bombay –
Anyone imitating me will just display
And with time, they’ll fade away.
I speak French, too, s’il vous plait!
And a little Hausa as well – Shege!
You see me on AIT, Channels and NTA
And I’m funnier than Ali Baba and Baba Suwe.
I could rhyme from Sunday to Saturday
Or my name isn’t Fakoya Adeleke.
But I’m not throwing all of this away:
Mr. Promoter, what do you say?
Just say ‘okay’
And I’ll shout ‘hooray’!
197

Whose daughter?

Whose daughter is this rose?


With such a great pose
Showing such arresting repose
So well-disposed
Not in any way indisposed
Before whom no door can close
For whom every cockerel crows!
I'm sure men would kiss her toes.
At her looks, they'll sleep or doze
And who knows -
When she grows
She may be a queen, I suppose
And to see her, you'll pay through your nose.
So, guys, hide your hose
If you look at this you'll get some blows!
198

Unit 10

Numbered days

M
odern man has so much to occupy his mind, not least
numbers. Whether you know the multiplication table by
heart or by rote, you find yourself digging out your daily
chores by numbers.

Number one, the doctors have trained our mothers – well, our
women – to look at everything from the point of view of number.
So, when a woman reports to a doctor that she suspects that she’s
pregnant, the first thing the doctor asks her is ‘how many days
have passed since your last menstruation?’ So, she begins to
calculate: five days of bleeding, followed by one or two days of
minor spotting…two months exactly, to be precise.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Wotdidyousayyournamewas?”

Now, if it is a legitimate state, she needs to consult another doctor,


who will again ask when the conception actually took place, and
then give her the EDD – Expected date of delivery. Maybe, five
months’ time, or precisely 3 May 2019.

Some oh’s, a few ah’s, and several sessions of vomiting, nausea,


aches, and bouts of cold and heat later, the baby is born – with a
date of birth – carrying with him from the hospital some numbers
or figures around his right or left wrist: e.g. 1.5 kg.

First, second, third and fourth or fifth birthday later, he is in


Kindergarten 1, Nursery 2, Primary 4 and so on. So, his life begins
to take on certain numbers.

Where do you live? He answers, “No 15”. How many children do


your parents have? “Only 10”. What’s your position? “Ninth”. I
mean your position in the last exam. “79th”. How many days make
a week? Seven. Hours of the day? 24. Days of the month? 28, 29,
30, 31. Good boy. Months of the year? 12…
199

When he is invited to a party, they ask him – or he asks someone –


to dance a number with them. While growing up, he learns any
number of things – running 440, 100 metres, and other games of
number! E.g. politics, or winning a lottery.

Before long, if he keeps company – whether good or bad – he soon


realizes that there’s safety in numbers, and times without number,
the parents will tell him to figure things out before embarking on
them. If he turns his back on his parents, he and some of his
company are rounded up by the police – like numbers – and he
lands in jail: where he’ll be given a number as long as his chest is
wide: LS/N345678901XX007. Then he learns that meals are not
numbered in prison as at home. Then comes, therefore, the
difference in meaning between three square meals and an apple a
day…

On the other hand, if his company is good, he may end up with a


good job whose index of prosperity is the similarity between his
GSM number – 080-3-322-4440 – and his annual salary:
N200,000,000.00! Definitely, he’ll have a car – with a registration
number! In some societies, even a social security number.

Meanwhile, if he stays in school and takes any examination, e.g.


WASCE, GCE, NECO, etc. he will have an examination number:
JME345BAV442… and if he is the brilliant one that gets admitted to
a university, oh, he will have a university matriculation number:
79-03-02-001. God help him if he forgets any of these numbers
when time calls for it.

And so he continues through life memorising numbers and


figuring things out, and battling with numberless events and
details that are hidden in numbers. What’s more, if anyone tries to
defraud him and he is lucky to know before the smart fellow
strikes, then our man knows the fraudster’s number!

To make things add up a little bit, at his death, his relations may
even put up a register for visitors and friends to enlist their
200

sympathies, in an attempt to know how many people turned up at


his home to pay their last respects to this great figure who has died
at the age of 100! But who knows, he might have passed through
life merely as a figurehead, having no head for figures, perhaps – a
typical figure of fun, you might be tempted to say.

Thus we live out our days calling up numbers and being called up
by numbers: birth number, house number, class number, telephone
number, car registration number, tally number, … and if you are a
woman, what number are you in your husband’s harem? Second?
Third? Tenth, or what? Because not many women are first! But
then, the first shall be the last, and the last shall be the first. Amen?

Given all these calculations, a figure of speech sums up our


individual lives: Our Days Are Numbered.

But as the psalmist craves, “May God teach us to number our


days aright.”
201

Unit 11

Why The Tortoise Is Still Alive Today!

T
his is not a story; it’s a tale. Not a fairy tale though; it’s
a legendary tale. But what you’ll enjoy about the tale is
its tail. I mean the tail-end. So, in a way, this tale is a
parable. In a way, it’s a tale that your own father, or his own
father, ought to have told you. But after here, you can retell
your own children...and acknowledge the primary narrator:
Adeleke A. Fakoya.

Not too long ago – in fact, just about three millennia back –
the Lion ran into the Tortoise and accused him of
withholding the mandatory daily payment of obeisance to
the King of the Jungle. And for that, ‘the Tortoise must be
dinner for my household today’. And the Lion commanded
him to be ready at once. As would be expected of someone
faced with only the choice of preparation for certain death,
the Tortoise begged that the Lion allow him to prepare a
fitting site for his grave – or, at least, for his bones – and the
Lion unreservedly approved it.

Without much ado, the Tortoise set to work and started


uprooting trees and in no time at all, had laid on their sides
1,000 Iroko trees, 2,000 Araba trees, 3000 Obeche trees, 5000
palm trees, 10,000 coconut trees, 20,000 bamboo trees, 30,000
cocoa trees, not to mention the fate of the lesser trees: 500,000
kolanut trees, one million rubber trees, and 2 million oak
trees.
202

Such was the destruction on the day that residents in nearby


villages and towns quickly transported all their trees to the
Sambisa Forest where they have remained till this day. After
about three hours of uprooting and felling such a number of
hapless trees, the Tortoise inadvertently tossed himself
against a rock in Jos (Plateau State) and the sheer weightiness
of his fatigue caused the mountain to rumble, bringing on an
instant volcanic eruption which immediately left a heavy
mass of ash all over Europe, creating global panic and
causing the cancellation of numberless flights for months!

All this while, the Lion had gone into a trancelike condition
and he had to be roused from his daze by the heat of the
volcano. And then he heard the Tortoise’s voice, ‘O King
Lion, make haste; your dinner is prepared.’ Other animals
who had come out of curiosity to see what the Tortoise was
doing started asking certain pertinent questions: “Is it for the
relocation of all the people displaced by the Boko Haram?”;
“Could all this land be the end Terminus for the Proposed
Federal Rail System?”; “Does Buhari want to build special
prisons for Badeh, Jonathan, and similar villains?”; “Is it
Dangote partnering with the Federal Government to build a
Kidney Transplant and Cancer Research Centre for
Africans?” etc.

In a flash, the Lion sprang off his feet and bounded crazily
over and beneath and around fallen trees, causing other fierce
animals to take to their heels, too. Needless to say, all other
creatures who had thought the day was going to be great fun
ran helter-skelter to avoid being trampled to death...
203

And from that day, no animal has dared touch, much less kill,
the Tortoise – not even the elements in the Boko Haram, ISIL
or Al Quaida, who are real animals in human skin!

And so, when next you see the Tortoise, thank him for
making us know the things we can do in our land to make
life better for everybody.

You might also like