There’s no gainsaying the fact that every Nigerian understands the expression ‘Village People.’ For my obodo onyibo friends who do not know what village mean for us here; well, it connotes EVIL. Mind you, my writing d word ‘evil’ in capital letter is deliberate.
Let me get to my story because am a storyteller.
So I was in my village to attend the burial of one of my aunties on Friday last week. It was that kind of burial ceremony that everybody attends because my aunt that passed on was a notable woman, and her husband, MoreDays, is a nice man.
My dad, Akuejiofor, told me on Friday I arrived the village that we would be going for Mgbalu___ condolence visit on Saturday afternoon or evening. When I woke up on that Saturday evening, I got a call from a client in Awka who wanted me to deliver the hardcopy of her novel I had just finished editing. I excused myself and rushed down to Awka bcos I needed all the money I can get right now.
The previous day, I had been told by one of the Ebede youth that I should make sure I join youth ndibe Ebede in condolence visit on Saturday. Unfortunately I was in Amawbia when I got a call that the youths have done their Mgbelu.
When I returned to the village around 4:30pm. I met my dad, who had been fuming about my long absence and telling everyone who cared to listen how stubborn I am, under a canopy with some members of my umunna.
While my father was making an angry face at me, a gracious man whose name I don’t remember asked me to sit down and instructed that cow (abi na goat) meat pepper soup be brought to me. I looked around and sat close to a young man (who, of course, is my brother from another mother). Like me he had returned from the city. While we waited for our pepper soup to be dished out and brought to us, this young man whispered to me that he wouldn’t want to eat the pepper soup because, in his words, ‘Village people di-njọ.’
Well, yours truly ate (I mean, rushed and swallowed) the sumptuously prepared pepper soup as if it was my last meal before heaven. That pepper soup, unbeknown to that other city boy who said he wouldn’t eat, was the first proper meal I ate that day. Of course, I did bidding n casting in my mind before I took the first bite.
I just woke up this morning and remembered the incident. And, as a writer, I sometimes like putting my experience and thoughts down. But, why are we so afraid of people who ordinarily should be our fathers, mothers, brothers n sisters. Well, the Bible says that because of the increase in wickedness the love of many will wax cold.
May the soul of my departed aunt, that of my Mama Ekwu and those of all the faithfully departed rest in peace!