Moji to me
You get to eventually understand the poem towards the middle. Where it encourages and admonishes one not to hurry at whatever part of the journey you find yourself but to take time get a few things, equip yourself with what that level or stage has to offer!! But all the long names could get u a bit confused at first. lol… But I took something from it…Tthe probing question however is where exactly is or how does one define one's personal ithaca?? Or is it just your journey through life generally?
Well I guess that's for you to clarify in your next write-up
My thoughts:
I believe that each person gets to define his or her own Ithaca, only it must be something worth living for. One of my friends thinks Ithaca is death and there are reasons to agree with him and also reasons not to such as:
Reasons to agree that Ithaca does not mean death:
1. No one can decide when they will die unless they commit suicide.
2. The general tone of the poem indicates a higher pursuit than reaching the moment of death. For instance why talk about the monsters and dragons in your heart that can stop you achieving what you set out to do?
Reasons to agree that Ithaca means death:
1. 'Pray that the road is long' - this could mean that one can get to Ithaca in a very short time. It could mean that one can die anytime, so it’s best to pray for long life.
2. My number 2 argument for why Ithaca cannot mean death goes out here - One can get the sense that the writer is admonishing that one should set out on a purposeful journey while one is alive, gaining wisdom, giving love (sensual perfume- something that disperses in the wind), investing in things that will last (mother-of-pearl, coral) and in the process become rich in soul, body and spirit. By the time you get to Ithaca-death- (in old age- if the road is long), you don’t expect death to give you any of these things because you have achieved them while you are alive. And we all know that in death, we leave things and not take away. So if ‘we find her poor’ we will not be disappointed.
3. Also, it could be a poem that is encouraging people to get to the moment of death having lived a fulfilled life than none at all.
But I still think that Ithaca does not have to mean death. Most people live mechanical lives that have no meaning whatsoever. They go through the rituals of the day with nothing driving them. Some are desperate for meaning but others just float along. To me, Ithaca can be anything that brings you out of that stupor and puts a bounce to your strides (of course there’ll be days your steps will lag). It can be anything that makes you conquer your own fears (the monsters- fierce Poseidon etc), that makes you enrich your spirit, soul and body, something that inspires you to go outside your comfort zone (enter ports seen for the first time), something that you want to spend your life trying to achieve.
Finding his voice as a poet is what Constantine Cavafy, the poem's author, spent most of his life trying to achieve. Something he did not achieve till after he was 40 yrs. He called himself 'poet of old age', and when he died at seventy, he predicted that his works would be better appreciated after his death because his poems, based on his journey were ahead of their time. And you can bet that he travelled a lot and studied under different scholars etc.
When we finally get to a point in our life where we feel that we have achieved our objective (Mandela?) We would not expect that point to add or take away from our life’s work. We would be at rest. I think that the peace that will be in our heart could be our Ithaca, especially as it will not ask anything of us and we will not ask anything of it. And then when death comes eventually – those who find us will understand the meaning behind the smile on our lips.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Ithaca
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
Pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
The angry Poseidon – do not fear them:
You will never find such as this on your path
If your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine emotion touches
your spirit and body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
The fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your heart does not set them up before you.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.
Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the Island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would never have set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
wise as you have become with so much experience,
You must already have understood what Ithacas mean.
Constantine Cavafy (1863 - 1933)
Translated by Rae Dalven
My first post in 2011 is a poem that means a lot to me and I suspect it will mean something to each person that reads it. We are all on a journey somewhere, defining the end with each step we take to achieve it. Constantine Cavafy wisely points out what we have all found out at one time or the other; that the process of the journey, the anticipation, the travails and joys are always sweeter than the destination itself. And perhaps that is why everytime we arrive -seemingly- at one destination, we begin to plan for the next.
I wish everyone on the great journey to Ithaca good wishes, and I pray the road will be very long. As the french will say Bon voyage et bonne chance!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The man who can't be caught (Short Story)
“The man who can’t make up his mind” my niece said startling me.
She had been standing quietly by the window for almost half an hour and I had forgotten that she was in the room. I looked up from the sketch I was drawing and smiled in her direction.
I adore my eleven year old niece and usually find her one-line labels amusing and disconcertingly accurate. Take for example, the case of our neighborhood butcher who had a thriving business till last week. At the market square, weeks before the incident, Temitade pointed a skinny finger in his direction and said in her usual dry tone ‘the sac under the table man’. The label proved true because the butcher was thrown out of the square last week when it was discovered that while chopping meat into smaller bits for his customers, he would furtively drop some pieces into a bag he kept under his table.
I was curious to see who the ‘man who can’t make up his mind’ was, so I got up and walked to stand beside Temitade. Temitade is unusually tall for her age and at five feet one inch, her head stands at my waist. She pointed at a white Toyota Camry driving up the road. It was circling an abandoned building on the other side of the street. From my flat which is situated on the topmost floor of a four storey-house, we have an unimpeded view of the driver’s activities.
"That’s the fifth time he’s gone around the building,” Temitade said. The building she referred to is empty, left in a terrible state of disrepair by its owners for two years. The fence around it is also broken in places, and parts of the house and its grounds have been overtaken by weeds. Recently, the property has been popular for one other thing -
“Isn’t that the property with that awful smell?” I asked, adding hopefully. “Maybe he is surveying it to buy.”
Temitade shook her head and said, “He slows down at the gate, looks inside and continues driving,” then she exclaimed, “Can you see what I mean? He’s doing it again.”
We watched as the driver slowed the car down at the gate “I wonder what he’s looking for.”
“Maybe the lady and the little boy who are in the building,” Temitade said.
I stopped looking at the car and frowned at Temitade. “What lady and little boy?” I asked sharply.
Temitade shrugged “I saw them in the building” she said unhelpfully
“Nobody in their right mind would go into that property,” I said outraged “that building can collapse at any time.”
Temitade didn’t say anything and we continued watching the car. I watched the building as well for any signs of movement.
Finally I asked “Have you seen the lady and the boy before today?”
Temitade looked pensive “Yes, some weeks ag,o” she said slowly “The day you forgot I was staying over.”
I smiled wryly; she would never let me forget that. On that fateful day, I returned home about 2am and found her asleep in my bed. I had forgotten that I invited her to sleep over. Instead of calling her father, my perfect and annoying brother to pick her up, my ingenious niece persuaded a carpenter to break down my door.
“Was that before or after your fight with me?” I teased her, knowing full well that the ‘fight’ started three days after the incident.
She gave me a superior look and said “I didn’t fight with you, I chose not to speak with you and that was three days after Uncle Timothy was buried”
A dark look appeared on Temitade’s face as she said the words. I thought I could understand why. Uncle Timothy’s death had being her first brush with the dark spectral being and even for older folks the experience isn’t easy at all. I can still see her pinched face at the funeral when they lifted the coffin lid. She looked thoroughly shocked and ran from the room. It took a lot of persuasion from her father before she would come out of her room. I was surprised that she didn’t speak to me for days. I still get uneasy when I think about it. Why did she choose not to speak to me? I didn’t force her to go for the funeral, matter of fact, her father and I disagreed strongly about her presence at the funeral. I felt that he should know better, being a medical doctor and all that.
“There he goes again” Temitade said, her interest returning to the car
“There’s something fishy going on” I said inadequately
“Maybe you should call the police” Temitade suggested
I nodded thoughtfully “Maybe I should” I said but made no move to do so.
Temitade walked to my desk and picked up my phone, she handed it to me and rattled off some numbers “those are the police emergency numbers that my dad gave me” she explained
I rolled my eyes and she giggled. It is common knowledge that apart from our mutual love for his daughter, my older brother and I have nothing else we agree on. For instance, if I had a daughter I would not leave her at my brother’s for the weekend and arm her with emergency numbers. I would show some trust.
I dialed one of the numbers and an officer picked on the first ring. I explained to the Police officer that we had a prowler in the neighborhood whose activities I felt required a closer look. The officer assured me that there were officers on patrol close by who could be at the location in question in two minutes. I gave a detailed description of the neighborhood and the prowler and hung up. My civic duty done, I looked out of the window and noted with satisfaction that the Toyota Camry had stopped opposite the gate of the house. The driver was sitting duck, and the hunters were on their way.
Asking Temitade to stay in the room and ignoring her pout, I ran downstairs and arrived at the house almost the same time the officers arrived in a black beat up van.
The van packed beside the car and four Police officers dismounted and surrounded it in the most intimidating manner.
The driver of the Toyota Camry got out of the car with a confused look on his face. He was a tall, thin man with a good looking face. He did not look like my idea of a dangerous criminal and I sighed with disappointment “Good afternoon officers” he said “Is there any problem?”
“What is your business here?” one of the officers demanded. I looked at his name tag, it read M.A Yinusa. Officer Yinusa was obviously the senior officer here and by his tone, he didn’t share my view about what criminals looked like. In his line of business everybody was probably a criminal until he could prove otherwise
“I was looking.........” the man’s voice faltered, he looked at the faces around him and suddenly realized that a crowd was gathering around him. “Why do you ask Sir?” he said cautiously.
“We had a call about your activities, they were reported as being suspicious” Officer Yinusa said
“Someone called you about me?” the man asked with disbelief
“I called” I said suddenly from among a growing crowd of curious people. Everyone looked at me and I added by way of explanation “You drove around this building almost fifteen times” I noticed that several people from the crowd nodded in assent.
“So, what is your business here?” Officer Yinusa asked again
“My name is Toye Odu” the man said “I got a call form an unknown person that my wife and son are in this place”
His words were so unexpected that we all stared at him. The officers looked at the abandoned building “Is this where the smell is coming from?” one of them asked looking at me and I nodded “Why would your wife and son go in there?”
“I don’t know” Toye Odu said and suddenly he broke into tears, his thin shoulders shaking “I have not seen them for over a month. They were attacked at gun point on the third mainland bridge and their attacker drove away with them. There are police records to support this at the Panti Police Station. We’ve been looking for them everywhere”
There was an uneasy silence as we all looked at Toye Odu and then at the building.
“Why are we still standing here? Let’s go inside and check!” Officer Yinusa barked suddenly “You!” he pointed to the man and then pointed at me “And you! Come with us”
They all dashed into the building, and I reluctantly followed. The awful smell hit us afresh as we stepped in through the gate and we all gagged. Yet we continued into the building. We had to run through walls of grasses and swarms of flies. It was not the way I would have chosen to spend my afternoon.
Suddenly, one of the officers shouted and we all rushed forward eagerly. We could tell that he had found something momentous.
Apparently, it was also something so terrible that it made the man called Toye Odu scream in agony.
I heaved my guts out when I saw the discovery. Temitade and her one-liners! I blamed her terribly for putting me through this experience.
The remains of a woman in what must have being a white gown and a young boy in black shirt and trouser lay on the floor of one of the rooms in the building. They must have been there for a while. Their bodies were barely recognisable due to decomposition and the ravages of animals. This then was the origin of the smell.
“Arrest this man!” Officer Yinusa shouted with anger pointing at Toye Odu who until that minute had been staring at the bodies with stark disbelief, his hands clutching his head
“But why?” Toye Odu cried “This is my family!”
“Nobody could have seen them here! These corpses must have been here for at least a month!” Officer Yinusa fumed
“But....But someone called me that they saw them” Toye Odu stammered “I don’t know how it happened and I don’t know who called me!”
I cannot understand even till now what emotions ran through me as I watched the man defend himself. It might have being sympathy, but whatever it was, I found myself saying “My niece told me earlier that she saw a woman and a boy in here”
The officers looked at me with suspicion, and Toye Odu looked at me as though he was seeing me for the first time. He probably was.
“Why didn’t you say this earlier?” Officer Yinusa asked suspiciously
“I didn’t think it was necessary till we saw this” I said defensively
“Where is your niece and when did she see this woman and boy in this place?” Officer Yinusa questioned
I replied reluctantly “I don’t know if it was this woman and this boy, but she saw them about thirty minutes ago from my place which is some houses away”
“Can we see your niece?” Toye Odu asked eagerly
I hesitated “She’s waiting for me in the house”
Officer Yinusa, Toye Odu and one of the officers followed me to my flat. The crowd on the street watched us with curiosity. I could hear them whispering, giving their own interpretations of events. I felt the sweat run down my back. I should have kept my mouth shut, I thought
When we entered my flat, Temitade was still standing by the window. I looked nervously at my desk and noted that the sketch I was drawing earlier was gone. The desktop was empty.
Temitade met my eye and said mysteriously “The man who can’t be caught”
I was not in the mood to ask her what she meant by that. It couldn’t be anything good anyway, and one label was enough for one day. She would explain this one another day.
“These gentlemen are here to ask you some questions” I said
“About the car or about the woman and the boy?” Temitade said in her dry way.
“Did you see a woman and a boy” Toye Odu asked excitedly
“Dont lead the witness on!” Officer Yinusa said sharply. He asked Temitade to sit down and sat opposite her.
“What is your name and how old are you?” he asked
“Temitade Ojo,” Temitade replied. “I am eleven.”
Officer Yinusa looked at Temitade’s tall but thin form and glanced at me “Is this man your father?” Officer Yinusa asked pointing at me
I expected Temitade to giggle but she didn’t, she looked at me with accusing eyes and looked away “I am his niece” She said
Officer Yinusa nodded. “Tell us what you saw earlier today.”
Temitade narrated how she saw a woman and a boy in the building and noticed a Toyota Camry circling the property.
“Can you describe what the woman and the boy wore?” Officer Yinusa asked
Temitade nodded “The woman wore a white gown and the boy wore black shirt and trouser with red socks. He wore no shoes.”
Officer Yinusa didn’t say anything for a while. He looked around my room as though for answers. Then he looked back at Temitade “Have you seen this woman and boy before today?”
Temitade surprised them by nodding, but surprised me even more with her words “I saw them some weeks ago late in the night,” she said. “Someone brought them to the house in a car. They seemed to be asleep.”
“Did you see the person who brought them?” Toye Odu asked agitated
Temitade hesitated, she looked at me and then at Officer Yinusa “I didn’t see his face,” she said.
The officers and Toye Odu had a lot of questions but they couldn’t get more than that out of Temitade. She had no further information to give. After almost half an hour, they took their leave. The mystery of the phone call to Toye Odu remained unsolved amongst other things.
Temitade and I watched through the window as more cars arrived at the abandoned property- more Police officers, a few reporters and a medical personnel or two. The bodies were taken away in an ambulance and Toye Odu’s Toyota Camry followed the ambulance. We continued watching till all the cars drove away. Then the crowd dispersed and eventually night fell and everywhere became as silent as the occupants in my room.
“How much do you know?” I asked finally
“About you being my real father? Or about the man who placed the bodies in the building? Or about the sketch of the bank that is situated two blocks from my parent’s home?” Temitade asked dryly
“I’m not your father,” I protested.
“Yes you are,” Temitade said with conviction. She really was a most unusual child, I thought with irritation. “I’m the only person in the world that you care about, and besides there must be a reason why my mum hates you so much.”
“Your mum isn’t the most loving person in the world,” I said. “She hates quite a number of people.”
Temitade didn’t look convinced. “She hates you especially,” she said and added “don’t try to deny it, I've known for a long time”
We were quiet for a few minutes. I tried to remember if there had been any hint from Temitade about this knowledge.
“The sketch” I hesitated “The sketch is just another drawing; you know how much I love to draw. I mean, I’m an artist after all.”
“You drew a sketch of Monique Jewellery store and two days later it was robbed,” Temitade said uncompromisingly. “And the Modas Antique store that lost that priceless vase? I saw the sketch on your desk; it had the vase showing on one side.”
I cracked my knuckles nervously.
“The man who placed the bodies in the building?” I asked nervously
“It was you,” Temitade said quietly
I took a deep breath and it hurt my insides
“I saw you in the moonlight,” Temitade continued in a quiet voice. “It was the day that you forgot that I was staying over. I looked out of the window and I saw you. I didn’t know then that they were dead, I thought they were asleep.”
“So why didn’t you tell the Police that I was the man who put the bodies there” I asked.
Temitade replied slowly. “I thought they were asleep when I saw them that night. But it was the same look on Uncle Timothy’s face when they opened his coffin. That was when I knew that the woman and the boy were dead.”
“That is why you didn’t talk to me,” I clarified
“Yes,” Temitade said nodding
“But why did you lie to the Police man,” I insisted
Temitade looked at me and her eyes seemed to glow in the dark. “It wouldn’t have being the truth because I know you didn’t kill them,” Temitade said. “You see, you are not that type of criminal. You wouldn’t hurt anyone that way.”
I should have being offended but instead relief flooded through me
“I stole the car as a get-away,” I confessed. “Imagine my shock to find dead people inside.”
Temitade nodded. “You called the man, didn’t you?” She asked
“I couldn’t help it,” I said. “A man has the right to know where his family is.” I tried to see Temitade’s face in the dark. “And you didn’t really see the woman and the boy earlier today, did you?”
“No,” Temitade said “I only said it to see what you would do.”
We sat in the dark for a couple of minutes without speaking “I’m not your father” I tried again
“Yes you are,” Temitade said happily “but dont worry, I won’t tell dad anything.”
I knew she wouldn’t tell my brother, but it didn’t make me feel better. It was much easier to think of Temitade as a niece.
After a few more minutes of silence, Temitade squeezed my hand and said “The man who can’t be caught”
The labels usually make me smile but this time it didn’t, it only brought relief.
She had been standing quietly by the window for almost half an hour and I had forgotten that she was in the room. I looked up from the sketch I was drawing and smiled in her direction.
I adore my eleven year old niece and usually find her one-line labels amusing and disconcertingly accurate. Take for example, the case of our neighborhood butcher who had a thriving business till last week. At the market square, weeks before the incident, Temitade pointed a skinny finger in his direction and said in her usual dry tone ‘the sac under the table man’. The label proved true because the butcher was thrown out of the square last week when it was discovered that while chopping meat into smaller bits for his customers, he would furtively drop some pieces into a bag he kept under his table.
I was curious to see who the ‘man who can’t make up his mind’ was, so I got up and walked to stand beside Temitade. Temitade is unusually tall for her age and at five feet one inch, her head stands at my waist. She pointed at a white Toyota Camry driving up the road. It was circling an abandoned building on the other side of the street. From my flat which is situated on the topmost floor of a four storey-house, we have an unimpeded view of the driver’s activities.
"That’s the fifth time he’s gone around the building,” Temitade said. The building she referred to is empty, left in a terrible state of disrepair by its owners for two years. The fence around it is also broken in places, and parts of the house and its grounds have been overtaken by weeds. Recently, the property has been popular for one other thing -
“Isn’t that the property with that awful smell?” I asked, adding hopefully. “Maybe he is surveying it to buy.”
Temitade shook her head and said, “He slows down at the gate, looks inside and continues driving,” then she exclaimed, “Can you see what I mean? He’s doing it again.”
We watched as the driver slowed the car down at the gate “I wonder what he’s looking for.”
“Maybe the lady and the little boy who are in the building,” Temitade said.
I stopped looking at the car and frowned at Temitade. “What lady and little boy?” I asked sharply.
Temitade shrugged “I saw them in the building” she said unhelpfully
“Nobody in their right mind would go into that property,” I said outraged “that building can collapse at any time.”
Temitade didn’t say anything and we continued watching the car. I watched the building as well for any signs of movement.
Finally I asked “Have you seen the lady and the boy before today?”
Temitade looked pensive “Yes, some weeks ag,o” she said slowly “The day you forgot I was staying over.”
I smiled wryly; she would never let me forget that. On that fateful day, I returned home about 2am and found her asleep in my bed. I had forgotten that I invited her to sleep over. Instead of calling her father, my perfect and annoying brother to pick her up, my ingenious niece persuaded a carpenter to break down my door.
“Was that before or after your fight with me?” I teased her, knowing full well that the ‘fight’ started three days after the incident.
She gave me a superior look and said “I didn’t fight with you, I chose not to speak with you and that was three days after Uncle Timothy was buried”
A dark look appeared on Temitade’s face as she said the words. I thought I could understand why. Uncle Timothy’s death had being her first brush with the dark spectral being and even for older folks the experience isn’t easy at all. I can still see her pinched face at the funeral when they lifted the coffin lid. She looked thoroughly shocked and ran from the room. It took a lot of persuasion from her father before she would come out of her room. I was surprised that she didn’t speak to me for days. I still get uneasy when I think about it. Why did she choose not to speak to me? I didn’t force her to go for the funeral, matter of fact, her father and I disagreed strongly about her presence at the funeral. I felt that he should know better, being a medical doctor and all that.
“There he goes again” Temitade said, her interest returning to the car
“There’s something fishy going on” I said inadequately
“Maybe you should call the police” Temitade suggested
I nodded thoughtfully “Maybe I should” I said but made no move to do so.
Temitade walked to my desk and picked up my phone, she handed it to me and rattled off some numbers “those are the police emergency numbers that my dad gave me” she explained
I rolled my eyes and she giggled. It is common knowledge that apart from our mutual love for his daughter, my older brother and I have nothing else we agree on. For instance, if I had a daughter I would not leave her at my brother’s for the weekend and arm her with emergency numbers. I would show some trust.
I dialed one of the numbers and an officer picked on the first ring. I explained to the Police officer that we had a prowler in the neighborhood whose activities I felt required a closer look. The officer assured me that there were officers on patrol close by who could be at the location in question in two minutes. I gave a detailed description of the neighborhood and the prowler and hung up. My civic duty done, I looked out of the window and noted with satisfaction that the Toyota Camry had stopped opposite the gate of the house. The driver was sitting duck, and the hunters were on their way.
Asking Temitade to stay in the room and ignoring her pout, I ran downstairs and arrived at the house almost the same time the officers arrived in a black beat up van.
The van packed beside the car and four Police officers dismounted and surrounded it in the most intimidating manner.
The driver of the Toyota Camry got out of the car with a confused look on his face. He was a tall, thin man with a good looking face. He did not look like my idea of a dangerous criminal and I sighed with disappointment “Good afternoon officers” he said “Is there any problem?”
“What is your business here?” one of the officers demanded. I looked at his name tag, it read M.A Yinusa. Officer Yinusa was obviously the senior officer here and by his tone, he didn’t share my view about what criminals looked like. In his line of business everybody was probably a criminal until he could prove otherwise
“I was looking.........” the man’s voice faltered, he looked at the faces around him and suddenly realized that a crowd was gathering around him. “Why do you ask Sir?” he said cautiously.
“We had a call about your activities, they were reported as being suspicious” Officer Yinusa said
“Someone called you about me?” the man asked with disbelief
“I called” I said suddenly from among a growing crowd of curious people. Everyone looked at me and I added by way of explanation “You drove around this building almost fifteen times” I noticed that several people from the crowd nodded in assent.
“So, what is your business here?” Officer Yinusa asked again
“My name is Toye Odu” the man said “I got a call form an unknown person that my wife and son are in this place”
His words were so unexpected that we all stared at him. The officers looked at the abandoned building “Is this where the smell is coming from?” one of them asked looking at me and I nodded “Why would your wife and son go in there?”
“I don’t know” Toye Odu said and suddenly he broke into tears, his thin shoulders shaking “I have not seen them for over a month. They were attacked at gun point on the third mainland bridge and their attacker drove away with them. There are police records to support this at the Panti Police Station. We’ve been looking for them everywhere”
There was an uneasy silence as we all looked at Toye Odu and then at the building.
“Why are we still standing here? Let’s go inside and check!” Officer Yinusa barked suddenly “You!” he pointed to the man and then pointed at me “And you! Come with us”
They all dashed into the building, and I reluctantly followed. The awful smell hit us afresh as we stepped in through the gate and we all gagged. Yet we continued into the building. We had to run through walls of grasses and swarms of flies. It was not the way I would have chosen to spend my afternoon.
Suddenly, one of the officers shouted and we all rushed forward eagerly. We could tell that he had found something momentous.
Apparently, it was also something so terrible that it made the man called Toye Odu scream in agony.
I heaved my guts out when I saw the discovery. Temitade and her one-liners! I blamed her terribly for putting me through this experience.
The remains of a woman in what must have being a white gown and a young boy in black shirt and trouser lay on the floor of one of the rooms in the building. They must have been there for a while. Their bodies were barely recognisable due to decomposition and the ravages of animals. This then was the origin of the smell.
“Arrest this man!” Officer Yinusa shouted with anger pointing at Toye Odu who until that minute had been staring at the bodies with stark disbelief, his hands clutching his head
“But why?” Toye Odu cried “This is my family!”
“Nobody could have seen them here! These corpses must have been here for at least a month!” Officer Yinusa fumed
“But....But someone called me that they saw them” Toye Odu stammered “I don’t know how it happened and I don’t know who called me!”
I cannot understand even till now what emotions ran through me as I watched the man defend himself. It might have being sympathy, but whatever it was, I found myself saying “My niece told me earlier that she saw a woman and a boy in here”
The officers looked at me with suspicion, and Toye Odu looked at me as though he was seeing me for the first time. He probably was.
“Why didn’t you say this earlier?” Officer Yinusa asked suspiciously
“I didn’t think it was necessary till we saw this” I said defensively
“Where is your niece and when did she see this woman and boy in this place?” Officer Yinusa questioned
I replied reluctantly “I don’t know if it was this woman and this boy, but she saw them about thirty minutes ago from my place which is some houses away”
“Can we see your niece?” Toye Odu asked eagerly
I hesitated “She’s waiting for me in the house”
Officer Yinusa, Toye Odu and one of the officers followed me to my flat. The crowd on the street watched us with curiosity. I could hear them whispering, giving their own interpretations of events. I felt the sweat run down my back. I should have kept my mouth shut, I thought
When we entered my flat, Temitade was still standing by the window. I looked nervously at my desk and noted that the sketch I was drawing earlier was gone. The desktop was empty.
Temitade met my eye and said mysteriously “The man who can’t be caught”
I was not in the mood to ask her what she meant by that. It couldn’t be anything good anyway, and one label was enough for one day. She would explain this one another day.
“These gentlemen are here to ask you some questions” I said
“About the car or about the woman and the boy?” Temitade said in her dry way.
“Did you see a woman and a boy” Toye Odu asked excitedly
“Dont lead the witness on!” Officer Yinusa said sharply. He asked Temitade to sit down and sat opposite her.
“What is your name and how old are you?” he asked
“Temitade Ojo,” Temitade replied. “I am eleven.”
Officer Yinusa looked at Temitade’s tall but thin form and glanced at me “Is this man your father?” Officer Yinusa asked pointing at me
I expected Temitade to giggle but she didn’t, she looked at me with accusing eyes and looked away “I am his niece” She said
Officer Yinusa nodded. “Tell us what you saw earlier today.”
Temitade narrated how she saw a woman and a boy in the building and noticed a Toyota Camry circling the property.
“Can you describe what the woman and the boy wore?” Officer Yinusa asked
Temitade nodded “The woman wore a white gown and the boy wore black shirt and trouser with red socks. He wore no shoes.”
Officer Yinusa didn’t say anything for a while. He looked around my room as though for answers. Then he looked back at Temitade “Have you seen this woman and boy before today?”
Temitade surprised them by nodding, but surprised me even more with her words “I saw them some weeks ago late in the night,” she said. “Someone brought them to the house in a car. They seemed to be asleep.”
“Did you see the person who brought them?” Toye Odu asked agitated
Temitade hesitated, she looked at me and then at Officer Yinusa “I didn’t see his face,” she said.
The officers and Toye Odu had a lot of questions but they couldn’t get more than that out of Temitade. She had no further information to give. After almost half an hour, they took their leave. The mystery of the phone call to Toye Odu remained unsolved amongst other things.
Temitade and I watched through the window as more cars arrived at the abandoned property- more Police officers, a few reporters and a medical personnel or two. The bodies were taken away in an ambulance and Toye Odu’s Toyota Camry followed the ambulance. We continued watching till all the cars drove away. Then the crowd dispersed and eventually night fell and everywhere became as silent as the occupants in my room.
“How much do you know?” I asked finally
“About you being my real father? Or about the man who placed the bodies in the building? Or about the sketch of the bank that is situated two blocks from my parent’s home?” Temitade asked dryly
“I’m not your father,” I protested.
“Yes you are,” Temitade said with conviction. She really was a most unusual child, I thought with irritation. “I’m the only person in the world that you care about, and besides there must be a reason why my mum hates you so much.”
“Your mum isn’t the most loving person in the world,” I said. “She hates quite a number of people.”
Temitade didn’t look convinced. “She hates you especially,” she said and added “don’t try to deny it, I've known for a long time”
We were quiet for a few minutes. I tried to remember if there had been any hint from Temitade about this knowledge.
“The sketch” I hesitated “The sketch is just another drawing; you know how much I love to draw. I mean, I’m an artist after all.”
“You drew a sketch of Monique Jewellery store and two days later it was robbed,” Temitade said uncompromisingly. “And the Modas Antique store that lost that priceless vase? I saw the sketch on your desk; it had the vase showing on one side.”
I cracked my knuckles nervously.
“The man who placed the bodies in the building?” I asked nervously
“It was you,” Temitade said quietly
I took a deep breath and it hurt my insides
“I saw you in the moonlight,” Temitade continued in a quiet voice. “It was the day that you forgot that I was staying over. I looked out of the window and I saw you. I didn’t know then that they were dead, I thought they were asleep.”
“So why didn’t you tell the Police that I was the man who put the bodies there” I asked.
Temitade replied slowly. “I thought they were asleep when I saw them that night. But it was the same look on Uncle Timothy’s face when they opened his coffin. That was when I knew that the woman and the boy were dead.”
“That is why you didn’t talk to me,” I clarified
“Yes,” Temitade said nodding
“But why did you lie to the Police man,” I insisted
Temitade looked at me and her eyes seemed to glow in the dark. “It wouldn’t have being the truth because I know you didn’t kill them,” Temitade said. “You see, you are not that type of criminal. You wouldn’t hurt anyone that way.”
I should have being offended but instead relief flooded through me
“I stole the car as a get-away,” I confessed. “Imagine my shock to find dead people inside.”
Temitade nodded. “You called the man, didn’t you?” She asked
“I couldn’t help it,” I said. “A man has the right to know where his family is.” I tried to see Temitade’s face in the dark. “And you didn’t really see the woman and the boy earlier today, did you?”
“No,” Temitade said “I only said it to see what you would do.”
We sat in the dark for a couple of minutes without speaking “I’m not your father” I tried again
“Yes you are,” Temitade said happily “but dont worry, I won’t tell dad anything.”
I knew she wouldn’t tell my brother, but it didn’t make me feel better. It was much easier to think of Temitade as a niece.
After a few more minutes of silence, Temitade squeezed my hand and said “The man who can’t be caught”
The labels usually make me smile but this time it didn’t, it only brought relief.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Paddle your own Canoe
If my backyard reeks
of onion and cow dung manure,
And my coal pot remains black
days and days without end,
Who are you to point it out to me?
My critic, I say; paddle your own canoe
Why do you never stop looking?
Never stop having opinions?
Never stop being right?
Always eternally correct?
Just paddle your own canoe, please paddle on
When I was young
my nose was a good foot long
My mother chopped it with a meat knife,
Putting me in a long wooden canoe, out in the open sea
She handed me the cut nose
and said; “now go on……….paddle your own canoe”
of onion and cow dung manure,
And my coal pot remains black
days and days without end,
Who are you to point it out to me?
My critic, I say; paddle your own canoe
Why do you never stop looking?
Never stop having opinions?
Never stop being right?
Always eternally correct?
Just paddle your own canoe, please paddle on
When I was young
my nose was a good foot long
My mother chopped it with a meat knife,
Putting me in a long wooden canoe, out in the open sea
She handed me the cut nose
and said; “now go on……….paddle your own canoe”
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
A matter of perception (short story)
The commercial bus I boarded from Costain to Palm Grove stopped twice- the first time to pick up a passenger and the second time, to drop off the same passenger.
She sat next to me, and I observed with faint feminine malice that although she was young and prettily decked out in tight blue jeans and green T-shirt, she had overdone her make-up and looked slightly ridiculous.
The bus was hot and the afternoon air was stifling. Perhaps it would rain tonight, I thought hopefully, and glanced at the cloudless sky. I was envisaging this more comfortable state of affairs when a sensation began to register in my mind. It seemed that the young lady was very cold. I could feel her body’s coolness through the layers of the brown suit and the shirt that I wore. I was puzzled. Did she just exit an extremely cold room seconds before getting on the bus and was finding it difficult to acclimatize?
I waited patiently for the afternoon heat to warm her up, but with every minute that passed she seemed to get colder.
I turned my head and studied her face for some explanation. She didn’t look uncomfortable at all, staring straight ahead like she had no care in the world. I began to wonder if I was imagining things but really that couldn’t be- especially as I was starting to shiver slightly! Should I ask her why she was so cold? Did she really need to be told that her body was as cold as ice?
I was temporarily distracted by the bus conductor who asked for the fare. With that sorted out, I turned back to the lady, this time with the intent of asking her why she was so cold.
I drew in a sharp breath when I looked at her. The tight blue jeans and green T-shirt was the same, but the lady was different. She was no longer young! Something absolutely impossible had happened in less than a minute. Where there had being a young lady, there was now an older lady! How on earth did she go from being young and trendy to old and wrinkled?
The now old lady turned at my startled movement and looked at me steadily for a while. She studied my dropped jaw, shocked eyes and trembling form. I was so afraid that I could not say a word.
The now old lady turned at my startled movement and looked at me steadily for a while. She studied my dropped jaw, shocked eyes and trembling form. I was so afraid that I could not say a word.
Even as I stared, gripped with fear, I wondered how this scenario was going unobserved by other passengers. But as a lot of desperate people have discovered, the sad truth about life is that people no longer really look at their neighbours unless they are doing something totally out of this world. I wished to God that I was one such normal and uninterested person!
The old lady suddenly looked away and announced her intention to get off the bus at the next stop. With the break in eye contact, I released my breath, which I did not realize I had been holding, and stared firmly at my hands. They were shaking uncontrollably.
When she got off the bus, I couldn’t resist looking at her. I continued to stare at her as the bus moved till she was out of my sight.
I met the eyes of the bus conductor as I turned away. He was smirking.
“All you girls sef” he said in Pidgin English “you no see the man get wedding ring?”
“What man?” I asked confused
“What man” he mimicked jeeringly. His eyes shone with pleasure at finding a good sport in me. I could tell that he had every intention of humiliating me before the other passengers “Wetin you dey look outside the window?” he continued “No be the man wey commot the bus?”
“A man got off this bus at the bus stop?” I cried incredulously
The conductor looked at me suspiciously. It was obvious that he doubted my sanity.
“Yes madam” he answered before he turned firmly away “It was a man that got off the bus!”
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
A poem for Bunmi who loved Philip
For Bunmi who loved Philip
And Philip who loved her back
For the times, he tried to bite her leg
And the times she teased him so
For the days she watched after him
And the nights he slept with the lights on
For the tears she cried when he died
And the days he could have enjoyed more of her care
For Philip who made us love birds
And for Bunmi who will never forget him.
Bunmi, - I hope you like the poem. You asked for a story, and I promise you a really beautiful Philip story another day.
And Philip who loved her back
For the times, he tried to bite her leg
And the times she teased him so
For the days she watched after him
And the nights he slept with the lights on
For the tears she cried when he died
And the days he could have enjoyed more of her care
For Philip who made us love birds
And for Bunmi who will never forget him.
Bunmi, - I hope you like the poem. You asked for a story, and I promise you a really beautiful Philip story another day.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Bumblebee Effect
 |
| Rusty Philip |
I have a Parrot named Rusty who is missing half a wing. The hunter that caught him in the wilds must have decided this was the only way to prevent his escape.
Rusty doesn’t know that he is incapacitated in any way. You should see him spread out what is left of his wings, the pride on his face, the majesty of it –even with its missing part- and the powerful whoosh of air as he beats the wings against his body.
Should I open the cage at one such moment, Rusty would probably take off into the air- believing in his heart that this is the natural thing to do. And who knows, he just might make it.
Bumblebees on the other hand have practised the act of making the impossible possible since the beginning of time. Aerodynamically speaking, Bumblebees cannot fly-should not be able to fly-are grounded totally. The ratio of their body weight to their wings is disproportionate. Science says Bumblebees can’t fly. But hey, nobody told the Bumblebee that. When God made him, he looked up into the sky, looked at the work he had to do to survive and took off from the ground to get it done. He didn’t ask anyone if they thought he should be able to fly. He knew in his heart that he could.
Permission seeking has killed far too many dreams and potentials around us. Nobody has all the answers, and I seriously doubt that anybody is created to do so (except Google : )). We are all a part of a big puzzle with our own unique ways and visions. We have a part to play, a duty to perform to this world in order to complete our part of the puzzle but we’ll never get it done unless we take a leaf from the Bumblebee.
Like Joseph Campbell says- The priviledge of a lifetime is being what you are
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