Grass Bird for Supper
| It was break and the pupils of St. Martha Primary
School could be seen everywhere like swarms of bees in search of what
to eat. Anang left like a cat and sat on a slope behind their class. He
took out an exercise book from his plastic bag, opened it and began to
read. After some serious reading, Bahmbi came with a loaf of bread. He
broke it, gave Anang a slice and they began eating. They went into the
valley and drank some water from a spring like thirsty horses. Anang raised
his head like a cow would do after a drink. He took in a deep breath and
breathed as a sign of relief and satisfaction. He turned and looked into
Bahmbi's eyes and said, "Thank you," in a whisper. Bahmbi nodded.
Anang continued reading his notes - meanwhile Bahmbi began producing illustrations
on a plain sheet of paper. "You see," Anang began in a most pathetic manner, "I sometimes weep because of the turbulence and endurance I’m going through." Bahmbi dropped his pencil on his exercise book and directed his gaze at Anang as he recounted his story. "There wasn’t much breakfast by the time I was leaving for school this morning," he continued. "Only some left over corn fufu which Mama smashed in water and gave me to eat. In the evening I may only drink water and go to bed. Tomorrow will be the same; some raw garden eggs and corn fufu for breakfast and lunch. And the day after will be cassava and bitter herbs without palm oil or salt for breakfast, lunch and supper. I haven’t paid my fees. My parents say they don’t yet have the money. The Headmaster will surely give me some strokes on my buttocks first thing tomorrow morning. My parents sleep on animal skin spread out on the floor while my siblings and I cluster on a small bamboo bed like puppies. The walls of our hut have a dilapidated, old thatched roof which now looks like decomposed grass above with openings through which one can easily see the heavens. The lone window is so tiny and almost touching the roof, causing the smoke to hardly find it’s way out when ever there’s fire in the hearth. When it rains, especially at night, we all stay awake like bats struggling to look for means of preventing the water from flooding our room. Behind our hut are over six graves. Mama said they are hiding the bodies of some of my brothers and sisters who passed away some years ago. And that two of them a boy and a girl even died on the same day. When ever she’s working at the backyard and she sees the graves, she will sit on the bare floor and grieve for several hours. I…" "I can hear the school bell jingling," Bahmbi interrupted. "Let's hurry back to class before Mr. Ntonchi comes in. I would like to listen to more of that story later." They hurriedly picked up their books and left. Nansen had over a thousand inhabitants who were mostly peasant farmers. The roads were undulating, uneven and narrow. The inhabitants equally suffered from lack of electricity and pipe born water. To ease administration, the Chief (whose name was Besombo) had to split the village into five quarters; namely Nanasensi, Nansendum, Nansenam, Nansenmbi and Nansenkwa. The different quarter Heads and their subjects could now handle their own matters and pass judgement independently - meanwhile Chief Besombo still had his place as the supreme traditional ruler of the entire village through whom some of the matters which couldn’t be solved by the quarter Heads and their councillors were referred. With the help of some Missionaries, a school was built for the children of that entire village. It was called St. Martha Primary School. That is the school Anang was attending. The Headmaster was called Mr. Ntonchi. He was of average height, about 1.90m tall and fair in complexion. He was fun of gnashing his teeth and murmuring when he was alone. He had over ten farms, which he usually visited after school to make sure none of his tenants took home any piece of firewood or food stuff from there without his notice. Anang fed Mr. Ntonchi’s pigs every Wednesday and Friday with fresh grass, boiled bananas, and cocoyams peelings as punishment for not paying his school fees on time. Meanwhile the girls went to the market on Fridays to sell brooms for the school Master. Mr. Ntonchi's wife was called Mammy Helele. She and her husband usually sat on the veranda at night with bush lamps between their feet either peeling some beans for koki or threshing maize for sale. While working, one could hear them discussing the plight of the other villagers and laughing to the top of their voices. The Headmaster had three children; namely Epe, Anepin and Sela. They seldom came around their father in the evenings. They were afraid he would ask questions about what they had been reading, and also if they have done their assignments. And since none of them ever gave him the right answer, they usually suffered severe beatings from Mr. Ntonchi before they went to sleep. Mr. Ntonchi’s children were very good at sports. Anepin and Epe were excellent football and handball players. The Headmaster took delight to see his children play, but he preferred to see them excel in their book work as well. Although the Headmaster was a neat man, his children were always looking shabby. They kept long and dirty nails and unkempt hair. They also had the habit of fighting over food like untamed dogs. The next day was a Monday and everyone was expected to be in school by 7am prompt. When the Pupils saw Mr. Ntonchi coming towards the assembly that morning with a huge bundle of whips over his left shoulder, they began shivering and screaming like a people before a ghost. The pupils called his whips "docta do good" because the Headmaster saw it as the only instrument which he would use to subdue those whom he thought were not doing right. He went into the crowd sniffing like a buffalo that has just received a bullet in the head and began inspecting the pupils. Those who didn’t have robbing oil in their homes began using their spittle to apply on their faces and arms. Others with long nails began trimming them with their teeth meanwhile those with unwashed uniforms were now struggling to hide behind their neat friends. A serious roll call was conducted shortly after the inspection. Mr. Ntonchi promised hell to those who weren’t present in school on that day, no matter what reason they may give. He saw it as a deliberate act to abstain from the transportation of planks from the farm of a certain farmer several kilometres from the village, following arrangements he had made with Pa Somanjo the previous day. "I’m like a barber and you pupils are my clients," he told the pupils. "Never shall you ever escape from my snare. And those of you who are still owing fees should make sure you meet me in my Office latest tomorrow morning before I send you out of the examination room. Have I made myself clear?" "Yessss sir!" they pupils answered in chorus. Anang’s classmates turned and looked at him with some degree of pity. They knew he had not paid even the first installment. And when he realised that the whole crowd was now staring at him, he bowed his head and his eyes began to water. Mr. Ntonchi further informed the pupils to each bring a huge bundle of broom and a log of firewood the next day. He came to where Anang was standing and gave him one solid stroke on his back under the pretext that he wasn’t singing with the others. He wept in hysteria as he kept twisting his body like a wounded snake under the frozen weather and pleaded to the Headmaster not to add any more strokes. On his way home after school, Anang bumped into one of his favourite songs: The pains I am feeling When Anang arrived home, he met Mbong sitting
on the veranda threshing some maize. He laid on the floor and began
screaming like someone on fire. Mbong got some warm water from a clay
pot and a piece of rag and began massaging his son’s buttocks. After
the exercise, Anang turned to mother and said, "Thank you Mama."
"Don’t mention," Mbong replied. ‘It’s all part of my duty,
son." |
| Updated November 2019. Designed by the late Andrzej Gutek. Maintained by Carol Ventura. |