Chapter 2 My Life

When you are born and raised in a small village, there isn't much to do, very little to experience and you get all your excitement in 'imagination land', if you're emotionally smart enough to live in your head, that is.

I was raised in a small village, my hometown. The only fun we had was playing in the red mud on cold evenings, swimming at the village stream on hot afternoons or dancing in the rain on stormy days.

Now and then, we had little festivals, traditional marriages and even burials. These events held some excitement too because of the music, the crowds they pulled, the dancing and several artistic performances, and most especially, the free food! Events like these were opportunities for us to eat a full plate of meal with large chunks of meat and a whole bottle of soft drink, alone.

I enjoyed attending these events and having the experiences with my elder sister Uloma, and our friends, but they bored me easily. I always wanted more. Some more excitement. Something that lasted longer and didn't just end after a few hours. Something that went on and on. So, while I enjoyed the fleeting moments, I longed for more.

My favorite time of the year though was in August and December when the city people came back in their masses for the August Meeting and the Christmas holiday. During these times, I went to the village stream more often, attended events with a little more enthusiasm. This was because then, the city people filled these events and I liked to meet the city people. I liked to watch them, imagine their life out there in the city, outside these red soils, away from this routine way of life. There in the city where the numbers of cars surpassed the number of people, so I had heard. They said the city was so busy, you could live at the backyard of your own sister's house and you wouldn't even run into each other for a whole year!

That was the kind of excitement I longed for. The thrill of something new everyday. The possibility of meeting a stranger every now and then, a new face every time. Unlike here in the village where we were stuck with the same old people, no new additions. Instead, one face less every now and then; That is, when a family moves to the city or an old granny dies. One face less.

I had been attending the community primary school all my life, but we had never had a new class mate. Most of my class mates moved to the city almost every year, and we only got to see them during the big holidays. Just another reason why I looked forward to the big holidays. Those classmates who moved away, when they came visiting always appeared to be better than us. Their English language got better, and they spoke to us in English even though they knew most of us could barely understand or speak any English. Their attitudes annoyed me, but I couldn't envy them any less. I gawked at them and drooled over their little accomplishment, fantasying I would one day be like them, knowing fully well, that my chances of ever leaving the village were very slim. Even the cracks in our wall was wider than the chances.

My father was a bike man in the village. He made a living by driving people around on a motorcycle from dusk to dawn everyday. My mum was a house wife. She sold little provisions now and then which barely ever yielded any profit, thus, she couldn't qualify to be called a trader. Both their funds combined could barely feed us, not to talk about buying new clothes or even paying our school fees. One time, we owed school fees for almost two school years. The school principal had to stop my sister and I from attending school. Luckily, some city man was visiting the village during that period. He came for his mother's burial. He asked us why we weren't in school when he saw my sister and I roaming during school hours. When we explained to him, he followed us home, talked to our parents and helped us pay off our debts at school so that we could return back to school. We started owing right after that.

No, we couldn't afford the city. From the stories I had heard, it would be impossible for us to survive in the city.

"School fees for one semester in the city can pay for a whole school year here in the village and you'll get change!." Uju, my best friend and one of the many classmates, who had moved to the city had told me when she came visiting. "Plus, you have to buy a lot of books. For every subject, you have to have a different notebook, textbook and workbook. And we study up to eleven subjects every semester." She said.

I had only one notebook for every semester. I wrote every note in it. Not like I wrote much, as I was mostly out of school than in school. How could I survive with eleven subjects, eleven different books, eleven different textbooks and eleven different workbooks. We would have to starve to afford that.

She also told me that they paid for their homes.

"We pay yearly for our own house. One bedroom, one parlor. We share toilet with other people in the compound." She told me.

"Toilet! You share toilet with everybody?" I asked in amazement.

"Yes." She said.

"Like, how many of you are there?" I asked.

"There are like twenty rooms, and most of the rooms have families of four, five or more." She explained.

"Then you people are up to hundred, and you all share one toilet?" I screamed. I couldn't believe it.

"Because I'm being frank with you? There are people who live in a single room that is not as big as your kitchen, and they share one toilet with even more compounds, but they never tell you. Look at you oh! If you want to live big in the city, you will just starve. It's not all milk and honey there oh. Life is hard too. If you want to live in a better house, you will pay big money that can buy you a land here." Uju seemed a little annoyed and slightly insulted by my reaction.

I couldn't believe her. We didn't have a fancy toilet, no. But we didn't share it with the entire community either. And, how could they pay so much for a house where they did not even have their own toilet? Here in the village, we lived in our grandparents house which dad had inherited when his parents passed away. The house was as old as my grandparents, maybe even their parents before them, all leaky and nearly obsolete. But, we didn't have to pay for it every year and we had two bedrooms.

Uju's testimony slightly marred the big picture I had painted of the city, and I wondered if the city was a bit too glorified. But as Christmas drew nearer and city people began to troop in, Uju's story slowly faded. No, these people could not be sharing one toilet with one million other people. They looked too hallowed to fit into that story. Maybe, the case was only peculiar to Uju and her family because they had not lived in the city for a longer time. If they lived long enough, they'll definitely get their own toilet. I was sure.