Dust was building up. Everybody were gathering at the village square to listen to ‘Fere’ speak. (In my language, ‘Fere’ means Whistle). Fere was revered in my small village because of his words; divine words. Word on the street is that the message he got from the gods, often, made him lose his sanity. I’ve never seen a madman given audience like that before even when we watch football from the only television in our king’s palace. His topic depends on his mood.
His laugh echoed in the now quiet square. The madman danced to an unknown beat; beat only he could hear. He stopped abruptly, took a stick and wrote on the floor. Only the gods could read it. Fere laughed out and gave a loud whistle; justifying his name.
‘Them don com again’, he spoke to no one in particular. The silence was deafening.
It was like a story or poem; we do not know which. It could have been a parable. It’s just nonsense, my father would say. But that never stopped us from going to hear from Fere’s pot of wisdom. His words were mesmerizing.

She enter your house, you no know…… (laughs)….she waka waka….you don sleep…… (more laughter)……she scatter everytin wey dey house; u dey cry……

Fere laughed and danced away for some minutes while we all tried to figure out what he was saying. The village women whispered among themselves. The madman stopped abruptly and there was silence like a graveyard.

‘Your pikin carry her for chest, hide am well well….nobody know….she turn him head; he hide am…… (more laughter)……mama too busy dey cook, she no see……papa dey farm, he too no see…….

Fere’s tone changed. He started singing a sorrowful song and bent down to write. Nobody bothered to check what he was writing because we wouldn’t understand.

‘Pikin no fit sleep, she dey him mind… (Fere cried).pikin hold wetin nobody know; …

We were confused. Was he talking about love? Who was he referring to? Mama could not answer my question; even papa was interested.

‘Pikin begin dey sick. ……dem say na ‘iba’ (malaria)…..dem carry agbo (herbs) give am…….pikin dey cry; dem giv am eran (meat)……..(the madman laughed like he was making fun of his own stupidity)…..them call ifa, ifa no answer……dem call priest, dem no see am……hhaha…

Fere danced like he was being possessed by the spirits. He jumped up and down and I wondered if he was a dancer when he was sane. We were all transfixed by the madman like we were jobless. We wanted to solve the riddle but we were confused.

‘Ifa say na fear dey kill pikin……. (Fere laughed)……fear of wetin?, dem dey look…….pikin dey shake; pikin no fit talk…….ifa say until pikin talk’……mama try, papa sweat……(Fere cried out)……..pikin no talk……pikin hide her…..wetin pikin hide’……mama fight papa, broda fight sister…..house scatter

And the madman stopped. The villagers were confused. Is there no end to the story? They asked themselves. Whispering was loud now. Fere just sat on the floor exhausted. Guess the spirit has left him, I thought.
Then I realised he was not telling a story. It was a puzzle; a riddle. And I sat down long after most people left. Dad sat too obviously deep in thought.
‘Fere was not referring to a lady or love’, my father said.
‘I know’, I replied truthfully.

What could be so strong that it’ll bring a whole house down?That can sneak into a home unawares…help me out!!!.Fere needs an answer.

The answer: www.realyans./2014/07/18/and-the-answer-is-secret/

Part 2: www.realyans./2014/09/23/rumblings-of-a-madman-2/