Hmn cant ever stop longing for the old days when men were kids. Back in time when my scary moment is going through the narrow path that led to my old mans farm. Grandma kept that farm and harvest its palm produce whenever its season. it often fall on Holiday, the long Holiday and each time, I love to visit the rustic village and catch a glimse of eternal loving village live. the poverty of farm-live is an innocent one.

Grandma makes palm oil, she made pap for the local market several miles out of the forest home that forms our habitation. Oh my sweet grandma, how I loved you. Now I only see you in dreams. I wept bitterly the day she departed this world. So what do I have left in this world without the love of my grandma, I thought she has got an eternal life. No she hasn't.

And on the farm, I listen with rapt attention when she select and crush out fresh palmfruit from the bunch of the palms pines Its often bounty harvest. I always take it slow, picking my palmfruit because of the pines, and I'm only looking for the red and flesh kernels to shew. then the pungent smell of the surrounding, and those crazy giant ants marching everywhere. They are running their business at the same time.

My all time "weird one" is the dung-bug. It kept fascinating me like, can't you do other things for God sake?

One day in the farm, grandma was busy with her work. she is schedule to produce palm oil for the next market. I went with her, or I will be guilty forever as truant. i was to learn a music that I will never forget. Of course their is nothing to it? But that song is the source of inspiration and faith in my self. I don't hate others ideas, but you can't take mine from me, get it? The song can help you too if you care. It goes:

Mehn do vi mayon
Ani hutu a tho do mor?

Ovi wheyin asethecon,
E wanu ajaka maze

Mehn do vi mayon
ani hutu athodor mor?

ovi whe yin are t'ajoji,
azan ethon di e pe

Meh dor vi mayon
Ani hutu a tho dor mor?



One who said the child is bad,
Exactly why did you say so?
The child is one watchful cat
by his deeds rats can't just pick

Men that says the child is bad
Exactly why did you say so?

The child is the profit on the trade
His era is being fulfilled right now

Men that says the child is bad
Exactly why did you say so?

I believe my grandmother has pass a valuable intel to me, because she was an initiate of ATP. That's African intel for us. Sweet grandma, sleep on, sleep well. You are of the last amazon. I love you.

still on memo lane,

in spite of the limited material resources available to my matriarch, she still put good inheritance in place for her children when it was time to die. She was an amazon. She got a piece of land and left money for its construction. Relative success is part of their heirloom. Her husband has through farming and Babalawo left a storey building, (he's been my old mans friend, and they have exact same kind of property) a land mark as far back as the time.

Now this is how to make red oil, or palm oil for the city dweller among us. Once we have the palm kernel harvested, the trouble began. Though I hate it, but you just must not show it. Everybody has a basket of their strength size. So grandma would sieve the palm fruit with the wind sheet using the basket, and once its clean to some extent, the rigorous job of transfering the produce homeward began.

There is a place called Dhoto in the village, this is where we will pour all the produce and the trip to the farm may be three to four times, miles away. Once done, the next thing is to go to the well at some few distance to feel the crater call dhoto with water. It might take 2000 litres of water.

Then you think of a drum of water to boil the palm fruit. My duty is to participate in all this and then go into nearby bush to fetch what the natives call praoh, firewood made of palm branches to the dhoto where the fire is made. Boiling the palmfruit may take all days depending on the quantity. Once the fruit is soft, it is fetch from the drum used to cook it and to a smaller drum where they squeeze the boiled fruit with legs.

Now, it is time to pack the beaten palmsoup to the platform part of the crater, then grandma enter the crater and began to take the juiced and pour it back into the crater, this is like taking water from a drum and pouring it back. But the oil that foam on the water is scooped and put in a container for second round boiling. I always watch grandma do all these, wandering what she want to achieve exactly.

It took time to get the idea behind what she was doing, but later, I got it as I grew to some extent.

Great write up. Pls continue

Howmanage: Great write up. Pls continue

Oh brother, thanks for not minding my usual narcissist approach to issues.

Let me continue with the story...

Data lost due to ...

Finally, what I wont forget about my grandmother was, she was a good storyteller, she don't often reprimand my curiosity about the world around me, except she's angry, and she don't often. The take-away I got from her was a day like that, as a child on Holiday, I was sick and laid on a mat at the basement of our house. It was evening and she covered me with her clothe, her wrapper.

So I was lying there and hardly pick the words of the language save for bit and piece. But grandma was a colourful narrator as most of the villagers are. so while lying down beside her, she reminisced with her cousins how her mom was such a wonderful woman and how she just passed on and how she fought to stay at the village she loved even after death. She has a great love for her mom.

Now she said, "if I had been literate, I would have written a book about my mom". At that moment, it struck me that books were writing by people. I know books but I never knew people wrote it. As little as I was then, I made a vow to myself at that point that I will write my own book when I grow up.

Thanks to grandma, I just did.

Quite interesting. But you can't stop here. By the way, where is this village please? Also maybe tell us a couple of your grandma's stories please. 10q

Very interesting read. Keep it up!

Howmanage: Quite interesting. But you can't stop here. By the way, where is this village please? Also maybe tell us a couple of your grandma's stories please. 10q

Wow Howmanage, Starflux, thanks, y'all.

My grandma lived in a place call Ago Babalawo at Ado-Odo. Her dad was the Babalawo, and her husband too. Well, she was of the formal type, she is more business minded, not because she is desperately in pursuit of money or what have you, but hard-work is some sort of currency in the village. If you go to the village and you start to play football, you are in trouble with grandma.

Its always funny back then. Here we are in the middle of the houses in the village playing football, and thats grandma on her way to the next village. we dont know the next thing that will happen so we stop for her to pass. Suddenly, granma is running on full throttle at the direction of the ball. You don't know if you have to pick the ball or run away. At last, grandma has the ball and the fun is over.

I love her anyway, its just village life. There, it is not possible to finish all the works you have to do, never. The vessel is never having enough water, there is no enough firewood in the cottage, there is not enough fish so you must go to village square to get some more, you must go to the farm, you must tell goat to go and sleep indoor and you must cook till argh.

Over time, I have come to understand the fact that not having a male child led grandma to be more hardworking compare to her contemporary. She did have one but lost him. Much ado for a male child in Africa. So she has to work to support herself and people around her, no one is lazy. and she was so thrifty. Its those little things that has helped her to stay focus and engaged.

Meanwhile she has her great stories, different pages of epics of motherhood and so on. But my inquest with her is always about origin, and she told me stories of how her household came from Dahomey to Nigeria in sketch. Maybe I'm of the fifth generation of these people. She was indeed a peacemaker. The king of my place reckoned her as mother.

At her death, the truce she has always broker between the indigine and settlers erupt in a different dimension, and trouble sprung. One of my cousins who has been indigen witness told my aunt, "you do not know how that woman had bridged the gap for so long. The peace we've always have was because of co-existence that was fostered by their generation".

She was the last of her kind in that neighbourhood.

I am really laughing at your grandma seizing the ball She sounds amazing. Truly the last of the amazons. I have heard of Ado-Odo. What were the issues between indigenes and settlers? Are the indigenes Egun? Also please tell us some of your grandma's stories? I like your writing style, very natural with a good flow.

Howmanage: I am really laughing at your grandma seizing the ball She sounds amazing. Truly the last of the amazons. I have heard of Ado-Odo. What were the issues between indigenes and settlers? Are the indigenes Egun? Also please tell us some of your grandma's stories? I like your writing style, very natural with a good flow.

Right, thanks @howmanage.

The indigenes were the Awori stock of the Yorubas, while the settlers were the Eguns, probably dispersed in the 19th century Yoruba civil war, of which their historic kindom west of Yoruba played a prominent role. Some of their folks were dispersed and they resettled in various Yewa/Awori enclaves and frontiers.

Ado was one of such places, mostly because it habour an Oduduwa shrine, which is common to the Yoruba and the Anagos as well as the Egun (my grandma's dad has his Dhudhua brought from Ado). So the place is a spiritual enclave to the practitioners of this ancestor worship. And also a refuge centre and a verdant entity.

By the way, the people of Ado are more wayfaring, and they founded enclaves that are presently in Lagos, such as Orile agege, Ogba,Itire and so on. But the town itself remain rustic, surrounded by the Egun whom they have embraced or, who equally fanned to the frontiers of Ado from Badagry wings of their homeland.

So at one point, according to a reliable source, a man came from somewhere to buy land (for estate), and it happens to be where the Eguns live at Idolehin, a large portion of land. The Egun sold the land unilaterally without consulting the Yorubas, and this pitch them against the Yoruba people.

Another source said that the elitists of Ado imposed a king, and afterwards issue a communique that gave ultimatum to Egun to quit the land. The Ado were in old time owners of their lands, they call it Ido-lehin, maybe "the camp of the land of praise" or "camp-city of palm-trees", and the Egun follow suit in calling it so.

So, when the Egun arrived, they could not co-habit with the Yoruba who have a different culture to theirs: for instance, if an Egun woman commit adultery with another man, the wife will be expelled. If not, the husband will die. The Yoruba do not observe such extremes. Likewise, some of the Egun folks revere the snake, python, which is a delicacy to the Yoruba.

The two can not live together in close proximity, so the Egun were allowed to live in the outskirt of the land which is an extension of the family quarters that you have at Ado. They usually give what is called "gregban" or Isakole to the household owning the land they settled at. But as time goes on, people who does that were all dead, and the tradition can no longer hold.

So a fiasco ensued between the two parties. Presently, the issue is in a competent court of law, and we can only hope it is resolved amicably because the people affected had had a long time of friendship and variant relationships. Naturally, the Egun are as protected as Nigerians as were the Aworis, so no one can make the other a displace people in their country.

Our land is also affected, but what can we do? trust the awori tribesmen for land runs, but you wont because of that declare that the land no longer belong to them. Oko n'tikun, ile n'tepa, lesi maa b'omo alakese dule baba tie? Let's keep our fingers cross as we expect the best from the justice system of the country. No victor, no vanquished, I love both parties.

As to grandma's story, I will upload it asap. It's a true life story o, just warm up to it, although it's heart breaking o. I warn you o.

Glory.

I pray a satisfactory outcome for all parties on the case in court. So, please tell me more about grandma's stories, and yes, i have my tissues ready just in case. What i like as well as your writing flow is that you have factual information too. Do you happen to have any pics of Ado Odo? The person I knew from Ado Odo was an Egun and he also had fond memories of the place

Howmanage: I pray a satisfactory outcome for all parties on the case in court. So, please tell me more about grandma's stories, and yes, i have my tissues ready just in case. What i like as well as your writing flow is that you have factual information too. Do you happen to have any pics of Ado Odo? The person I knew from Ado Odo was an Egun and he also had fond memories of the place

I'm sorry I don't, but I can check through the cyberspace for familiar places. Thanks for your prayer for this troubled community, I say amen to your prayers, and thanks for good commendation, yinni yinni keni semi. You are great too pal. As a kid back then, I used t think Ado will always be a city of peace and tranquility, but then we all are unpredictable as humans. The Egun are forthright people, and the Awori's were just as good, but times were when trouble comes. i'm doing my bit of communal activism on her behalf here. We shall overcome.

The Beautiful Tragedy
the writers' life is not a life of his own, sort of. He long to keep his secrets, but these are the secrets flowing from the pen of a steady writer. This story goes back to the same decade as the country's independence, I think. Grandpa got the premonitions that if he search through the streets of Lagos with all his zest, he will be led to where his long lost sister resides on the Island.

She was a daughter of the female child of his uncle, and since she left, never has she looked back to her place of birth. So , the longing can no longer be curtail. And so, one fateful day, grandpa set out to look for his long lost cousin, he has no address, bu he only mumble the word obreko to himself, as was picked from the last conversation he had with his cousin on her residence in Lagos....

Still waiting o 2prexious

Howmanage: Still waiting o 2prexious

So after the frantic search through the Island on the particular day for a place call Obreko and a woman call my antie's child , Grandpa came face to face with the woman he was looking for in the heart of Lagos, great day,the joy of the two knew no bond! It was such a small world afterall.

"Well my sister, it is time you start visiting home as often as possible, don't hold to the fact that I now know this place then you don't take it upon your self to visit home as usual. That's wrong, the ancestors wont be happy about that at Kutomeh" (Kutomeh, that's where the dead goes in Dahomic language, meaning, city of the dead.)

"No brother, you have really changed me for this one effort of finding me out among thousands souls and miles, I will come home as soon as possible and as well, you will go with my son, then make sure he come back with one of the daughters of yours to help me out here and stay the family bond for us."

"Oh my sister, that's not any task, I will do that".

And that was how grandpa rediscovered his long lost cousin in the heart of Lagos. The story may have been around early fifties of the last century. At the end however, Grandma's first daughter who had been with an Ijebu woman as apprentice merchantwoman joined her younger sister and both began staying with their big aunty.

But then, something happen.

Hmmm...... Please continue......

Grandpas cousin was happy to have her brother’s children with her. But as time goes on, one of the sisters, the eldest has grown more matured and experience, she seek to move on in life and build her own life the way it suits her best. So she look for job at a knitting outlet at Onola, and that was the most prosperous period in the fast urbanizing glowing city of Lagos, a beautiful jewelry behind the sea.

The young woman was happy going about her job without disturbing anybody. Then one of the co-worker in the outlet was so much in love with her. After much persuation, she cave in for his overture, you know men now!

So the two lovebird began their relationship together and they are seen together in all occasions. They became the toast of the town. The man has seen his good dreams that has long eluded him come to life, taking shape at the pace of every moment and thought.
But there was a problem: his in-law to be, my grandpa’s sister was not favorably disposed to this man. You know what; he’s too pompous for her liking! It is natural with some lagosians to feel pompous at themselves if you have observed them closely: they have superiority complex and describes everyone else.

So at times, the man will buy lovely designer shirts for her beau to feel loved and special. He did know how to impress his heartthrob! And you my son, when you have found a woman that your heart desire, take it as a burden upon yourself to engrave your memory forever on her hearth, in goodness of the spirit of love.

Life is fleeting and you can be her idol. Maybe she would love you always in transverse of a lifetime. The man, by the token name was a prince from Igbomina stock. His name was Sammy. My grandma’s first daughter was a beautiful damsel. And together, the lovebirds continue their life together, hoping for future so divine in promise.

Two great event shape the destinies of these two, Sammy got a good employment at Nigeria Airways and was so happy coming back home that night to break the news to his fiancé

“Femi guess what? Our life will sing a new song now,” said sammy.

“What happen, you just won some money or what?

Oh, stop kidding me, would I ever bring myself so low?"

"Well I know you wont, but just tell me what's new?"

"My love, We are made, I have finally secured the Airport Job!!!

"Hey sweeties I'm happy for you, I trust you, I know you will make me proud.”

I’m proud of you too Femi, you're so beautiful”

Hmm…

Another wonderful thing, or the tragedy is that they couldn't control their success together, though they've both come of age, but they fell into the temptation and the lady was put in a family way, my grandma’s first daughter, her lady. And the foster mother was not happy about this, she has found the loophole to exploit to deal with the man she don't always like.

"Look dear", my grandpa’s sister said “you will go to your father in the village and tell him that you are pregnant. Get me the feedback as soon as possible and don’t be silly!” The woman was not happy with the turned of things, enmity that never was has finally ensued. She will play her own part in the destiny of these two lovebirds.

So the lady took her time and one fateful day, she set out and appeared before her dad, with dread of the unknown outcome hanging in the balance upon her heart. Well she is the type that is meek and lively, and always ever prepared for whatever fate has in store, she is an amazon in her own respect, a fighter without breaking or retreat.

Of all the tales that have been told in this world, maybe fate or destiny or something else beyond our control often interfere with our path through life, and that certain crucial and decisive events has a beautiful tragedy in store.

For the young lady, She was not prepared for it. Maybe her heart breaks on her way to the village, I do not know, my son, I do not know. But that homeward journey began a downward spiral in a life of a lady so beautiful, and so full of life and hope. She was stepping into a plate to be a victim of the chess that families love to play on their own, because they have the power over their children.

“So are you telling me you are pregnant for the man before you are betrothed to him? Are you the one giving yourself in marriage to a man now? Is that how we train you to comport yourself before you left this village?” Grandmas daughter was knelt down as elders sat and some others hang around by the window.

“Go and marry your husband” Grandpa said. Grandpa was not happy, but he has to show it, even if he would still be pressured to see things differently. Oh, poor grandma, has her daughter brought her shame or honour? Was there a canon for how adults in love should comport themselves and go about relationship given a specific age and social/hormonal pressure?

Grandma, I can feel your pulse now, knowing how much you suffered and toiled to get this child, how much sacrifice and rites was performed, and now she’s on a crossroad where you cannot help, where your words don’t count. Oh grandma, are you crying? Are you crying? Please don’t cry, she will still find her bearing in life, she will make you happy and perhaps bring sunshine to your world if it is on the path of her destiny.

Nollywood niaja
But its true.

Hmmmmmm.....keep talking...

Ladi durling, do you guys now have a new Olofin or is it still the same Oba your Ado brothers beat mercilessly and strip naked?

zeemoore: Ladi durling

lol

Hmmm...am enjoying this .

zeemoore: Ladi durling, do you guys now have a new Olofin or is it still the same Oba your Ado brothers beat mercilessly and strip naked?

well for now, Olofin is AWOL,
Where have you been sweerie?

2prexios:

well for now, Olofin is AWOL,
Where have you been sweerie?

A crack-smoking somali pirate kidnapped me

zeemoore:
A crack-smoking somali pirate kidnapped me

Wow, I am going to invade that damn place call Maghreb and turn them stinking Ajuran upside down now.
And you I have warned several times over to stave clear of them MOFO horners, but you will not listen.

But by the time I finish with them, they will salute the West Coast Emperor.

Don't mess with my Queen, you hear me? And you, get the fuc.k off!

temperature rising

2prexios:

Wow, I am going to invade that damn place call Maghreb and turn them stinking Ajuran upside down now.
And you I have warned several times over to stave clear of them MOFO horners, but you will not listen.

But by the time I finish with them, they will salute the West Coast Emperor.

Don't mess with my Queen, you hear me? And you, get the fuc.k off!

temperature rising

English, please




***
You should continue with the 'tales by moonlight'
I'm loving it

@prexios

Coolu coolu temper.

tpia: @prexios

Coolu coolu temper.

wow, old skhuull tunez

Simmer simmer ahn ahn 2ce
chorus till fade.

olashas: Hmmm...am enjoying this .

you are welcome to the party

zeemoore:
English, please
***
You should continue with the 'tales by moonlight'
I'm loving it

Hmm.....
elibansaeh tio tio

2prexios:

wow, old skhuull tunez

Simmer simmer ahn ahn 2ce
chorus till fade.


you are welcome to the party



Hmm.....
elibansaeh tio tio

Isnt that New Masquerade?

Howmanage:

Isnt that New Masquerade?

Yes ooo, we are the eighties-nineties people.
Zebrudaya and Clarus and Ginringory, and Oguloria.

Can't make any idea of what dose people were saying then,
we were only waiting for the programme to end when we now start
hoping for any action film that has to do with gun on NTA Network, 10.

Its always on Sunday sha, and you start to count ACB advert for three times.
Once its three times, that session has expired and its film time till eleven or 12 a.m.

2prexios:

Yes ooo, we are the eighties-nineties people.
Zebrudaya and Clarus and Ginringory, and Oguloria.

Can't make any idea of what dose people were saying then,
we were only waiting for the programme to end when we now start
hoping for any action film that has to do with gun on NTA Network, 10.

Its always on Sunday sha, and you start to count ACB advert for three times.
Once its three times, that session has expired and its film time till eleven or 12 a.m.

Ah, in my own day after New Masqurade was bedtime o