Travelogue 8

Group picture at the official reception

 

TRAVELOGUE 8

Few days ago, I got notified that the usual formal welcome reception for Ebedi International Writers Residents would take place today at the Residency by 1pm. I thought of what to put on since I knew there would be representatives of the Iseyin community, teachers and students in attendance and because I actually wouldn't want to look like a visitor amidst my people. I wore my almost fading Ankara in the morning and set out for church. I already ironed the  Ankara with 'gas iron' from home, not knowing there would be 'excess' power here. Please how much is 1kg now? I owe her one. But then, I am not so sure if today is the first or second time attending church, far away from home this year. 

Earlier before then, I had sat on my table, fixed and rearranged some stuff on the laptop. I read few papers written on Odia Ofeimun's works largely to celebrate his 'unrelenting zeal and determination to bring a change to the ethical, political, social-cultural lives of the Nigerian and African peoples'. While I read about this critical perspectives, I did not only uncovered that writers are activist, political gladiators, social critics  but also that background and exposure play indispensable roles in word-crafting. At first, I was tempted not to go to church again, especially for the fact that I was enjoying some lines from him. Enjoy too: 

'Mother you are more than gold

Unafraid of flying 

Into moons and thickets

Or through walls of stone

To braid our laughter

We dance for you.'

Since the spirit of God won, I left for bathroom and hurried out at around 10a.m. for church, Anglican of course, Saint Paul's Cathedral, Iseyin. I never knew it was that far from the residency. The bike man drove so fast and I realised I didn't eat when the breeze came. I held on tightly to the bar at the back of the bike, praying we get there soon.  As I stepped in, the pianist brought back childhood memories of growing up in an Anglican family and how joyous it was to expect palm Sunday and Easter celebrations. Then, things weren't this expensive.

Palm Sunday for me is one of those unique opportunities to walk around Ibadan with the horse, meet new friends during Easter celebration especially children of my father's friends in the same society in church. I used to wait for a particular girl then who usually came around during Easter celebration. We would talk and plan how we would see each other on Easter Monday and after church, on the Sunday that follows. 

She was gorgeous and beautiful, difficult for any young boy to ignore. I would just pretend you are not interested in that. Unfortunately, I was allowed once, just once to follow the horse around and it was a lovely experience. I later realised it was mainly because of my health and being the last born. I enjoyed mother's love. Meanwhile, going around with the horse is an experience I would want to give all the three little boys that I have. 

On some Easter Mondays, my family would cook the society's food to be served at Galilee. But then it wasn't about the food for me, but the chat that was waiting. Painfully on one of such occasions, her father came and spent such a brief moment then stood up to leave. We looked at each other's faces. Obviously she was eagerly waiting for a chat but her dad ruined that for us that year. Me? I told my mum to let us go too, Abi, what would I be doing again? She suspected something was wrong when I said I wasn't hungry even with the presence of plenty Amala, gbegiri and ewedu with big pieces of meat that were on ground. 

'What is wrong with you', she asked, drew my head towards her chest and caressed it with her palm. The same palm that houses different forms of 'Igbati'. As if there were charms in it, I told her that people were already leaving and we should just leave too. 'Iyanda, asese de ni, awon baba ... nikan lonlo'. 'Are they not very important people?' I  asked myself wishing my mouth could say them out. I grabbed the chair and watched other kids play around. If I could really remember, that was the last Galilee I went as a kid. I stopped going. It was my first heartbreak right? I am not sure if my mum too will remember this though.

I moved closer to the greenish part of the church and asked where to go as there were two buildings; one for youths and the other for the elders. I had always loved to stay with the elders so I followed the path. The young man was surprised. The hymn was clearer and louder. It was a familiar hymn so I started to hum the song. It was there I realised today is Mothering Sunday. A great coincidence with my reading.

I loved the 'Iya yard's' sermon. Precise. On point. She dwelt on mothers and Proverbs 31 was her scriptural reference. In times like this, being a good mother and living up to the responsibilities come with great challenges and it will be totally unfair to compare the challenges current mothers face with the older generation of mothers. In times like this when children sleep with and kill mothers for money rituals, when children kill one another to get rich quickly etc. In times like this, mothers' responsibilities in shaping a sane and morally upright society are enormous. The emphasis on family in my writings is basically centered on parenting. Again would like to note here that while I  agree that there are several other ways to solving our challenges as a nation,  family should be the first to focus on. It is like the source, giving us dirty streams. We then shouldn't expect a clean river when these streams that lead to it are dirty. As parent, what are you teaching your kids? Be attentive to your kids. Develop a friendly relationship with them. Trendy things are very good but are you sure they are suitable for your kids? Don't just copy others, understand your children's limitations, encourage and be their strength. When they need you, be there. Always. And please don't just focus on your children, consider your husband as your first born. Feed him well with ALL. With all these, peace of heart awaits you as a mother. 

Few minutes to 1p.m., the service ended and I told myself that these priests were lucky. In most Anglican churches that I know of, once it's 12 noon or few minutes past, you are on your own. I rushed out after saying 'aaamin, aaaamin, a a a a min' ( only real Anglicans will understand). 

The first bike man came with a frowned face and I had to cooperate. On hearing my destination, he hissed and sped off. I laughed. That has been my usual response in such situations. Some people think they are the only one facing hardship or challenges. That was how one woman told a bus conductor that she would vent her anger on him. I was like 'enikan kori enikan kanra mon o'. 

The other one behind was speeding very fast. I initially stopped him but allowed him to go and focused on the few other ones coming only to hear him ask for where I was going. He stopped few steps away. I didn't want to answer again, not only because of the way he drove the bike but also the way he placed his legs and how unkept he was. 

'You have no choice, you are getting late', I told myself. I climbed and he said my fare was 150 Naira. I negotiated but he said no. If not that I was running late, I would have trekked to see places and especially to get the fare reduced. I engaged him at least to caution him on speeding. At certain spots, I would say 'gently o'. 'Egbon kosi nkankan'. Yes. I know. I am just saying small small. 'I wasn't doing it for God'. I have suffered in life to allow someone kill me like that!  Moti jiya ju kinma joro lo'. 

We got home safely and at the gate, I was informed that Dr Wale Okediran had arrived minutes ago. I was eager to meet him again. The last time was in the University of Ibadan when he attended I think ANA programme. We exchanged pleasantries and the conversation we (baby Ebedi Fellows) had with him was pleasantly informative and crowned it with books he brought for us to read while we are here. I was particularly interested in the travelogue one and should read it soon. Dr Wale Okediran inspired my travel writing and no need saying why he brought it. I'm not sure I would want to stop it.

At the reception after introduction, we went into deep, engaging interactive session and was quite interesting basically because of the amazing and unique composition of guests that came. We went into discussing Arts, politics, education, culture, food etc. We discussed boy and girl child education and the challenges we face as parents to guiding children. I focused on family and ensured I achieved my aim which is to always engage parents on different platforms to pay serious attention to their children and design for them paths to building rightly a 'falling nation' like ours. One issue I would like you to join is that, would you allow a child of 15years have access to Android phone, considering the dangers and having in mind the role it accessibility to internet plays in learning?  As usual, good food and drinks taken before taking lots of pictures. 

A quick one for fathers:

'Give her credit for all she does. She deserves the respect of everyone.' (Proverbs 31: 31)

Happy Mother's Day to Yinyin, Funmilayo, Omolara, Temitope, Titilade and Atoke. (All of you should credit my account to collect your respect) lols.

Enjoy your evening.  

Busayo Fakunle Nsi  writes from Ebedi International Writers Residency Iseyin Oyo State.