THE TRAVAILS OF THE FLINCHING YEARS

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THE TRAVAILS OF THE FLINCHING YEARS

BY OPURUM TIMOTHY (THE PREGNANTPEN)

Ndokwe, Elokwe’s first son, with great fury and aghast approached the king’s palace for what could predictably be referred to as “the battle of the mouth” between him and the council of elders, the king not being exempted. He has made up his mind to find out what on earth his family has done to the entire community; why members of his own community have decided to dispose of their dirty water on them by casting so many aspersions on them as well victimizing them. They have succeeded in banishing his mother from the community, and now purporting to set ablaze the only thing left for them to claim ownership of – his family house.

His family has been torn apart ever since his mother was banished from the community. Series of slanderous and defamatory labels have been printed against them ranging from a family of the descendants of witchcrafts to a family of cursed generation. Every child in the community has been strictly warned to stay many miles away from every activity that involves anything or one emanating or even associated with that family. This has made things so unbearable for them. Even in the market, they could neither buy stuff nor sell. It was as if the heaven has just collapsed on them. Most times they pray for the intervention of death to take them away from this miserable world where men are no longer men but predators of their fellow men. They wept for help, but none came forth. Even the gods whom they serve were no where to be found in their situation. Things have indeed fallen apart. To whom will they tell their story? To what grace will they fall from? What will they do, for their lives have become like pieces of unwanted rags.

“Ndokwe…Ndokwe…Ndokwe! Please come back! Don’t go, come! Leave them alone for our gods will fight our course!” Olomme panted.

“Did I just hear you say ‘the gods’?  Nodokwe intercepted. What useless gods are you talking about here, Olomme, uugh? Are they the same gods I know; gods who only know how to receive but never give; gods who have eyes but can never see to the injustices and victimization being suffered by those who have fervently served them? Are there other gods aside gumare and guare? Olomme, my sister, don’t dire try to stop me, for we have suffered enough injustices and victimizations, and since the gods have suddenly become dead that they cannot vindicate us, let us vindicate ourselves. Even though they might destroy us at last, but, at least let them realize we are no cowards that they can trample on without being resisted.” He concluded.

He flared up, marching enigmatically with a furious and perturbed mind. He has made up his mind to end this battle today by visiting the lion’s den, where nobody who visited came out alive, except in a few bible stories. He never minded how many lions will prey on him. All he contemplated was to see to the end of this feud which existed between his family and the entire community. As he marched, one needs no foreseer to make him realize that Nodoke was heading for the King’s palace. Not ready or willing to listen to anyone, he accelerated the pace of his movement.

It was so coincidental that that day happened to be a traditional day. The traditional day, popularly known and called Nkure by the community is a long time historical day set aside by the ancient fathers of the community. On that day, no labour is carried out and it is as well devoid of every commercial transaction in every nook and cranny of the society. It is always a hectic day for the entire members of the traditional cabinet. They seat for several hours making decisions and resolutions for the community, also, they resolve long standing feud between warring parties, pronouncing judgements. Land disputes are equally attended to by them in the palace. While they did this, other members of the community will be busy sanitizing the entire community. It is a sacrilege for anyone to indulge in any personal interest commercial activity or work in the farm. They work collectively as a community to clean up the environment. At night, they all, including the royalties, gather in the village square to perform different traditional presentations such as folklores where the eldest man in the village is called upon to tell the entire village everything he knows about the historical antecedent of the village. Also, young men of the village wrestle against themselves and the winner gets to marry the most beautiful virgin of marriageable age and stage. But, such a virgin is subject to the recommendation of and approval by the Women-In-Council which must be consequent upon a three-stage test of virginity and eligibility.

Nodokwe finally arrived the palace – the lion’s den. He met several oppositions who refused him entry into the palace. No amount of threat from the security men who guarded the entry to the palace could dissuade him from gaining entry into the palace, he persisted. Situations have started getting really out of hand. Boisterous noise became the order of that moment. Nodokwe grew more violent and stabbed one of the guards who were giving him the greatest denial of entry into the palace.  Spontaneously, he ran with no restriction into the palace where the meeting of the council has grown to tensed level. Surprises wore on the faces of the members of the council. Immediately, five guards rushed into the arena. When asked what was going on, the guards informed them that Nodokwe has just stabbed one of them to dead when he was refused entry into this place.

“W...h...a…t! Abomination!” They all exclaimed.”

“Do you know the sacrilege you have just committed?” One of them asked, referring to Nodokwe.

And do you know the enormity of what you have done? Asked another, almost on his feet.

Nodokwe decided to keep quiet for some seconds trying to recover from his panting.

“Arrest him immediately and put him in the prison custody!” The king ordered.

Immediately, Nodoke held the nearest chief beside him on hostage and threatened to kill him and then kill himself if they do not listen to him. It was so glaring that some of the chiefs became afraid and shivered.

“If you don’t pay a close attention to what I have come here to say to you all, what happened to that guard out there will happen to some of  you this disgruntled, local, devilish and goddamned old men who take delight in plundering people’s homes, old men who have assigned themselves the duty of inflicting pains on the poor just because they have no one to fight their battles, old men who have desecrated the highly magnified royal seats of our forefathers by championing the acts of injustice and victimization of the innocent in the community just because of their selfish interest…”

TO BE CONTINUED

And The quiet one explodes by Yvonne Balogun. provost of Creative Article college

 …AND THE QUIET ONE EXPLODES        

“ You must be very stupid for insulting me just because I told you to stop your noise” said Tobi.

“Did you just call me stupid? You have shown that indeed you lack home training” retorted Sade.

Before anyone could say ‘Jack Robinson’, a sudden crash of glass against the wall sent the spectators scampering for safety. The sound of glass against the wall seemed to say, “to your tent oh Israel”. Few minutes after, students of the hall found out that the piece of shattered glass was actually meant for Sade’s head, but as fate would have it, she was able to dodge it just in time. The question on everybody’s mind was, “what could have made Tobi, a normally quiet and gentle lady, to get so angry to the extent of throwing a piece of glass towards the direction of her roommate, Sade?”  The simple answer to that question is that Tobi has a measure of Intermittent Explosive Disorder within her.

          We tend to take sudden angry bursts as a normal phenomenon - a part of the human mindset. But then, there are people who react to things in different ways. Some of us 'keep their cool', while some of us react violently. This difference itself indicates that there is some kind of underlying aberration in the people who react much more in proportion to the cause. This is what is medically termed as Intermittent Explosive Disorder.

Intermittent Explosive Disorder is one of those ailments whose names are not commonly known, but it is present probably in every one of us in some measure or the other. People who suffer from this condition are quite normal most of the time, but there are unpredictable episodes when they might have a great display of anger. In this sudden outburst, they might do things they normally would not even think of doing - they might break things they can lay their hands on, they might set fire to things, they might hurt or try to hurt someone else or they might even try to injure themselves. People who suffer from IED are prone to sudden fits of anger and violent outbursts. The most alarming part of IED is the fact that it might exist within a person without him or her even knowing about it.

          The cause of IED can sometimes be traced to the childhood of a person. Children who have been raised in families where they always squabble and fight, tend to demonstrate their anger violently while growing up. Families that suffer abject poverty may have children that grow up with IED, and this could be an indication of the frustration borne out of children's habit to compare themselves with other kids. But then, this cannot be taken as the universal truth at all. There are kids from violent families that grow up to be fine gentlemen and ladies without any shred of  IED in them, and there are kids from peaceful families who might get as angry as a bull teased by the matador at the smallest of things.

Though the point of childhood ingraining is much existent, there could be several other reasons too. Some people have a genetic propensity to get wild. This explains the excessive anger in some kids when both parents are quite genial. They might have picked up the trait from a violent uncle or aunt or some other relative. As these people grow up, they might enter into happier situations and overcome their tendency to be unnecessarily violent, or their conditions might keep on piling up inside like lava in a dormant volcano.

           Finally, there are ways by which this condition can  be controlled so that it will not spill out of hand. Certain therapies , exercising in the peaceful mornings, reading light books with moral values, attending places of worship are solutions you can use. The best solution is of course to lead a more fruitful life, be cheerful always and build up love for the people around you. When you love the people with you, you stand a great chance of controlling these destructive surges of emotion. With the above mentioned methods, you will be able to curtail your anger and live a more blissful life.

Have a great and anger free week!

                                                                                                Balogun Yvonne

Short story by Adebayo Caleb. president. Creative Writers' Niche

                    TAMING TEN    by Adebayo Caleb

It was my day off and I was going to enjoy it.     

Beaming all over, I helped my wife pack her luggage into the boot of her Toyota Corolla. She was going to visit her aunt in Shagamu who was just recovering from an illness and I, was just having my first day off in months. My boss decided to finally give me one day off, due to heavy workload in the past two weeks. Where I work, we’re made to work almost 20 hours a day, so you can imagine what this day off meant to me. Not that I wasn’t making the money, though.

The sound of the boot banging brought me back from my thoughts. The entire luggage had been packed. I kissed Juliet goodbye and she got into the car and drove off. I was really sorry I wasn’t spending my day off with her, but it was nobody’s fault. My day off was impromptu.

Now looking at the doorway to my house on Lekki, I realised I had ten kids and all ten of them were home. For a moment I wondered why. Frances, who is the first, is about ten, I guess, Charles is nine, Victoria and Veronica, the female twins are eight, Stephanie is seven, Daniel is six, the male twins, John and Jerry are five, Michael’s four and Anita is three. Whew! Juliet did one hell of a job having these kids. And yes, there was that ugly dog-Bark. How on earth could a dog be named Bark? What kind of name was that anyway?

‘Alright kids, let’s go get breakfast.’ I declared. I was determined to slump into bed after breakfast and take a long, nice nap. ‘Anita, why are you all not at school today?’ I asked the youngest as she held onto me while I moved into the kitchen.

‘We’re on summer vac, Daddy’ she shrieked.

‘Oh’, I thought. That meant I was going to have to put up with ten kids and a dog for a whole day. I decided to fix whole wheat bread and egg sauce for breakfast and had just started when the twin boys ran into the kitchen.

‘And Daddy, mum said I will take piano lessons this summer vac,’ John spoke

‘No, mum said I would be taking piano lessons,’ Jerry retorted.

They argued about who would take what lessons for at least a minute until I had to intervene

‘You are both taking piano lessons, boys.’ That seemed to do it and they both left.

I was just halfway through the preparation of the egg sauce when I heard a loud squeal from the living room, then a bang and a crash. I turned down the gas stove and went into the living room where the noise came from, to find the twin boys and Michael sprawled on the rug with loads of building bricks scattered around them, while Charles was running down the stairs with a Batman mask.

‘Charlie,’ I called, ‘will you cut that out?’ That was definitely not a question. ‘John, Jerry, pack up your toys now.’

‘They’re not toys; they’re billing briggs,’ screamed Anita.

‘Not billing briggs, Anita, building bricks,’ Stephanie giggled

‘I’m starving!’ Daniel called from where he sat reading a comic

Just then, Bark came running into the kitchen, nose in the air. He almost toppled me over as he made for the cabinet. Immediately I called for Frances to get the dog out of the kitchen. After that I called the girls to help me set the table and serve breakfast.

Sitting at the table, all twelve of us--including Bark--I was glad breakfast was finally served and apart from three spilled glasses of milk and Anita’s bread that Bark gulped down, breakfast went by uneventful.

After breakfast, I told Frances and the twins to clean up while Stephanie and Charles did the dishes. Glad I could finally take my so desired nap, I made for the bedroom. I was barely halfway up the stairs when I heard voices from the kitchen and then a shattering sound. I knew at once that at least one of our china was broken. All I asked was for two kids to put the plates in the dishwasher we owned. It was that simple.

‘Frances’, I called from where I was, ‘who broke what?’ Big mistake. I heard five of my ten kids talk all at once. I couldn’t make out a word. I sighed heavily and moved into the kitchen. As expected, I saw pieces of china on the floor, shattered. I figured it should be between two and three.

‘Charles’, they were really getting on my nerves now ‘what happened?’

Charles and Stephanie started talking.

‘Quiet!’ I screamed so hard, even I was stunned ‘Charles’

Seeing I was serious, he began to tremble

‘I…I was getting the dishes out of the washer, and Steph was saying to be the one to get the china with the teddy bear drawing on it, while I got the ones with the flowers and I wanted to get the ones with the teddy, so…’

I cut him off. ‘How many did you break?’

‘I didn’t break…she broke…we broke…we broke two, I think.’

‘Okay’, I dished out judgement ‘I guess I should be pretty mad at you guys, but not really, considering you’ll have to clean up this mess and get no more allowances till those plates are paid for and from now on you’ll both eat off plastic plates.’ Their faces fell and I felt good with myself. ‘Now’, I declared ‘Daddy wants to get some rest and does not need any noise. You may play or watch TV but keep it quiet, okay?’

‘Yeee!’ Anita exclaimed. I didn’t know if she understood what I just said. I ran upstairs anyway and took a cool shower and was getting ready to lay down when I heard a loud squeal, footsteps running, laughter, more delighted squeals, and a thud. I shrugged and tried to ignore it, and then I heard voices.

‘Mom usually does it this way.’ Michael

‘No she uses a mop bucket.’ Stephanie

‘And soap.’ Victoria

‘That’s only if the floor is dirty.’ Veronica

‘The mopper is so heavy.’ three year old Anita

‘Cool, the floor looks so different.’ Jerry

‘It’s like white clay.’ Daniel

‘No, no, Bark, get away.’ Charles

Now I was getting curious. Something fishy was definitely up and I had to go downstairs. Now I was determined to tame these kids because only then could I get my sleep.

In the living room, I found Frances sprawled on the sofa with a Bluetooth device on her ears; she was listening to the new iPod Juliet got for her and I knew she just couldn’t hear the noise, while John sat in front of the T.V which was turned to the highest volume. I saw the other kids gathering in the kitchen like they were watching a circus. Getting into the kitchen, I realised it was really a sight to behold. A half empty bag of flour lay on the kitchen floor, with its other half turned into sticky paste all over the rest of the floor. I rubbed my hand on my forehead while eight of my kids and a dog covered in flour paste stared at me. Quickly, I felt it was safer for me to try to recreate what happened here in my head than to try eight kids-and a dog. I figured they had been playing ‘pursue’ and feeling good about it until someone ran into the kitchen and toppled a bag of flour, then they had tried cleaning it up with  a wet mop. I later learnt I was correct about it. I immediately got Frances with the rest of the kids to clean up the mess properly and clean up the dog too, while I made John turn down the T.V.

Having learnt from my mistakes and determined to tame my kids, I asked each of them what they wanted to do for the day. Even John was excited about that. Anita and the twin boys settled for building blocks and dollhouse dress up which I made them do in the recreation room, Michael and Daniel decided to play their newest Xbox, the twin girls and Stephanie wanted me to read them some horror and mystery stories which I did, while Frances and Charles played scrabble. Bark’s favourite child was Vicky so he sat by us the whole while we read stories though it was kind of weird having that dog near me.

So while everybody played, I read the girls-and the dog-stories, putting in a lot of drama while periodically checking on the others, especially those in the recreation room to make sure all was good. At lunchtime, the girls and I fixed a tasty lunch of spaghetti and gravy, and then I treated them to ice cream for dessert. After that we all watched some TV, played cards and chess and we even played hide-and-seek, though it seemed I was always the first one to be found.

At dinnertime, we (yeah, the twelve of us) went to a Mexican eat-out not far away because the Chinese eatery we went to did not allow dogs, and personally, I saw reason with them. At dinner, we talked and made jokes and there were lots of laughter, and it seemed Bark didn’t like Mexican food. Well, what did dogs know about nutrition? When we got back, we were all exhausted and I had learnt a huge lot about my kids over dinner-lots I didn’t know about them before, including pretty irritating things about the dog. Tired as we were, we took turns in telling each person’s most embarrassing moment and happiest moments too. I was glad to know that our happiest moment was that moment we all sat in the living room, exhausted. Very soon, all ten of them fell asleep. Bark and I helped tuck them into bed and soon enough, Bark fell asleep too.

Now I was not only free, but I had succeeded in taming my ten kids and a dog. Success at last, I thought, feeling like Dexter in the cartoon network series. And what do you know? I think I was even beginning to like Bark. I ran off to my room and slumped on the bed.

‘Sleep at last,’ I thought. ‘A will definitely finds a way.’ I had tamed my kids.

I woke at ten the next morning, and I was late for work.