TRAVELOGUE 2

One of the rooms in Ebedi, Iseyin

TRAVELOGUE 2

Seriously, I never knew constant power supply exists else where in parts of Oyo State and to imagine Iseyin being at the top of the list too is really surprising. Really, there is power (creative) in having power (energy). It makes you want to work and initiate talks. 

I had an engaging conversation with the gatekeeper till around 11p.m. yesterday because of my kind of person. I hardly go to bed early since my secondary school days in Lagelu Grammar School. Yet, my aunty will insist that I dressed up for school once it's 5a.m. so I sleep late and wake up early. Same till now. He talked more about the people at the helms of affairs and lamented on how even the followers are unfaithful in their dealings with one another. He expressed how inhuman and cruel it is for some to be enjoying the luxury meant for everyone. 

'Aburo, koye kabu awon to n binu pe awon kori owo Ijoba daada'. ( My son we are not supposed to fight those asking for governance to work well). He told me that corruption is everywhere even in churches and mosques and cemented that with a personal experience. Yet surprisingly, he negated my view of saying there seems to be no hope for such a country that kills dreams at a tender stage and frustrate dreamers not have one again. 

Of course I do hope of a better future for my country but not with these self-centered, corrupt leaders. I only hope of a greater future with the kids, the children whose minds are still fragile and subject to change.

 Unfortunately, it is becoming more challenging considering the current crop of kids we have in the country largely because the home is lagging behind in its role to building a sane community where the bridges and streets won't be homes for thuggery but places to show creative talents. This requires not only prayers but also commitments. Perhaps more reason I write for the children.

Just before sleep came, I revisited my poorly written unpublished anthology and continued when I woke up few hours later. Now is the time maybe. 

After taking the first group pictures this morning, Madam C, a well dressed young woman, whose light complexion is a reflection of the richness that inhabits Ebedi, reaffirmed how generous and welcoming the Yorubas are. She joyously called us out, started the series of greetings and ended up telling me that I am an Igbo man. Me, I immediately told her I'm an Ibadan man. 'Miole mumonra, emi omo isale Beere'. Meanwhile who else hate the never-seems-to-end greetings of the Yorubas? It tires one sometimes. 

'What would you eat for breakfast?' She soothingly asked. The Ghanaians concluded we would be taking pap ( akamu/Koko/ogi) with some other things since i had agreed they would be taking some indigenous food daily. What surprised me most is one's choice, putting salt and sugar into the pap. Strange? Yes very strange to me. But then, isn't that part of what is to be learnt about meeting people? Varieties is the spice of life you know.

The Pap taken for breakfast

Later at noon, I called on the administrative officer to take me to the market for I needed a mouse for the borrowed laptop (If you like, laugh at me, you're on your own. After all it's not mine.lols). I used the opportunity to interact with few natives and I must say I love their Yoruba accent but not like the Ibadan's. Meanwhile I know you won't be surprised to hear that even as a Yoruba person, there are some Yoruba accents one will struggle to understand. You want me to give examples? Do it yourself! But then, Jeff is an excellent and fast language learner, he picks words fastly and as against some who will first learn abusive languages, he settles for appreciative words: 'e se o, mo dupe o, e ku ise,' etc. 

At around 6p.m., I attended a virtual poetry reading , done to celebrate World Poetry Day, organised by Ibadan Poetry Foundation and coordinated/moderated by our highly revered Professor, my role model, Professor Rem Raj Oyelade and my Oga Ndubuisi Martins . I read one of the poems rewritten here to the admiration of all, though network was frustrating. 

However, Awodiya Funke 's piece, 'Justice for Bamise' struck me. It reminded me of many things about policing and the poor state of security in Nigeria. A country where police officers beg to be protected by the local vigilante groups. Who then will protect the citizens? Who? Don't you think Bamise's case is just one out of many unheard stories of lost individuals? Funke should just bring that piece to the public. 

I again ran to the table to jot down some things and after a while, our Mama C, called us for dinner. But how do I explain to my friends here that in my hostel (even at home) food are safer at hands than on the stools/ tables? You want to know why? Hmm, 'ninu aye laye wa' ( I beg I no know transcription Jo). If you went to my kind of school (and have people like Tolu and Palle Michael Adeniran  as hostel mates) you will understand. Enjoy. 

Fakunle Busayo Nsi writes from Ebediwriters Residency , Iseyin, Oyo State.