Collection of short stories

On a condensing harmathan Sunday, as the sinking sun was conjuring the blue curtains of the sky to golden leaves in the Western hemisphere, Mr. Bungalow received an astonishing kiss from Suzzy.

“What about you? Do you prefer hanging your hat on a well educated fellow to marrying any money bag who is deficient in sound intellectual vibrations?" Ojo's father had asked Kemi.

Ojo had a great opportunity to go to school to any level, considering the good intension his father had to train him to the highest level of attainment· in academic field. His father is a rich cocoa farmer in Igede, in Ekiti State of Nigeria. Ojo's father is called Mr. Alakowe Ile-Iwe, because of his great interest in education and respect for those who are well read. He is among the first ten cocoa merchants in the village, who donated a large sum of money for the building of the village community primary school. The people of Ekiti are generally known for cherishing education so much that, if an individual is wealthy, but is not well educated, he is regarded as "a nobody." However, a highly educated person who has good command of both the written and spoken English Language is most times almost worshipped like a god in by the people. The people are happy when any person in the environment speaks high sounding grammar that has 'suffixes echoing 'sm, sm, sm' and earth quakingGbingbin­gbigisms.

After Ojo had completed his elementary school education at Igede Community Primary School, his father, Mr. Alakowe Ile-Iwe, decided to enroll his only child at Eko-Akete Comprehensive Grammar School, located in Ado-Ekiti, the capital City of Ekiti State. "Good schools are difficult to find these days. It is not all schools that can be regarded as schools. There are schools and there are schools," he told his wife, Mrs. Ile-Iwe, when she suggested that Ojo should not be sent to any school too distant away from home.

She reasoned that Ojo has been a very good helping-hand in weeding the cocoa farms, which is the family's major source of earning a living. Many cocoa farmers have abandoned the business of cocoa farming to join the train of oil exploration in the volatile Niger Delta, but the Ile-Iwes' family still profit greatly from cocoa farming even though it has been relegated to the background though it was formerly a major foreign exchange earner to the nation. Mrs. Ile-Iwe said Ojo's services will be highly needed to monitor the activities of hired labourers during cocoa harvest times. Some hired harvesters employed by the Ile-Iwes family to quicken the plucking, breaking pods and drying of cocoa beans were found to be dishonest in the past.

Some harvesters were found to be lazy sometimes relax and stop working when the farm owners were not around to monitor them. Besides, some of them were in the habit of hiding cocoa fruits in large quantity for sale to make money for themselves at the expense of the farm owners. For this reason, it requires the assistance' of eagle-eyed children like Ojo to act as little detectives to and out any dishonest scheme by hired harvesters during harvest seasons.

“Have you forgotten what happened during the last harvest season?” Ojo’s mother asked her husband.

“Many things happened. I cannot recall the particular issue you are referring to,” replied her husband, feigning he did not remember the unforgettable thievery discovered by Ojo during the last harvest season, which became a big news issue that spread round the whole cocoa farmers' families in Igede community. His wife was at this point trying to draw his attention to Ojo's detective exploit, when he discovered the theft of some cocoa fruits by some hired harvesters.

“Wonderful! So you have easily forgotten so soon how Ojo caught some harvesters who hid some cocoa fruits in the swampy part of our farm in order to sell them for their personal benefits,” she reminded her husband.

Some hired labourers had hidden some harvested cocoa' fruits under some cut down plantain leaves, while Ojo, whom they thought was asleep some metres away, peeped at them and later went to inform his parents about the labourer's dishonest acts.

“Woman, I knew it is that same old story you like reminding me about again and again, each time the issue of Ojo's enrolment to a better school far from home comes up. But that is not a good reason to deny him the opportunity to attend one of the best schools in the state,” he told his wife.

“Best school in the state, best school in the state you keep repeating. When our cocoa pods get stolen without Ojo standing by to watch the harvesters, and we lose money the next harvest season, then you will understand better what I am saying about the need to enroll him in any school close by,” she said.

“You suggested sometime ago that we should enroll him at Omo-Ile- lwe Community Commercial School at Iyin, our neighbouring village. But mind you, a commercial school is different from grammar school. I want my son to be able to speak heavy sm, sm, sm sounding English, and I am ready to spend my last kobo to make sure he gets the best educational training to the highest level money can afford,” he emphasized.

“School is school. At least, Mukaila who finished from Omo-Ile-Iwe Community Commercial School is a well known intelligent typist in this village. Mukaila speaks very good English too, according to those who witnessed his interaction with the children of Moses Ajobowian, who came from Lagos some weeks ago. Besides, money makes a man not grammar,” she retorted.

“Ha, ha, ha, O, ha, ha,” her husband laughed and said “It is not only Mukaila, it is Muka foam. Muka, Muka. Muka Commercial Englishtypemiology. Commercial English is different from real grammar. If you don't know, better know now, woman. I will train my son to any educational level with my cocoa money, and that is nobody's business,” he said with a tone of pride, due to the fact that he is counted among the few educated men in Igede, because he belongs the old Standard Six Certificate level brigade, in the old and former Ondo State, which Ekiti State was later created from.

Ojo’s mother however, has no idea what a good education is all about. She thought that any school is as good as any school, in as much anyone who finished from a school can read, write and speak English. She is not educated because her parents had felt that educating a girl-child was a waste of precious money, as they thought that a girl-child will one day end up as a property in another man's house. This type of philosophy has been denying a lot of intelligent young ladies the opportunity of going to school. In recent times, it has however been discovered that most educated married ladies take good care of their parents even as they are in their husbands houses more than some married educated male offspring, who are usually pre-occupied with taking care of their wives and children, to the detriment of their own parents who had spent their life savings to train them educationally.

“You are free to say whatever you like because, your parents managed to send you to an olden days Akara-moin-moin school. After all, Mukaila's mother read up to standard three too, and she told me some time ago that people like you who attained standard six old school system are inferior to modem commercial school graduates like her son, Mukaila. Because I did not go to school, that is why you sometimes speak big, big English words I think cannot be found in the English Language people's culture. Very soon now, I know you will start speaking words that will make the roof of our house collapse,” she told him.

“How dare Mukaila's mother claim that Commercial School graduates of these days are better than old Standard Six Certificate holders like me? I, who shook hands with Mungo Park when I showed him the way to discover the River Niger; I, who made the Landers Brothers to land safely in the Niger Delta; I, who single-handedly made Adolph Hitler to surrender to the Allied Forces during the Second World War; I, who communicated with Bartholomew Diaz to determine how he rounded the Cape of Good Hope; I, who showed Christopher Columbus the way to discover the continent of America and later guided him to West Indies; I, who sent Vasco da Gama a map that guided him through a sea route from Europe to India; I, who helped Ferdinard Magellan, who was later imitated by Francis Drake to complete the first circumnavigation of the world; I, who was the first person to critic Nicolaus Copernicus hypothesis titled ‘On the Revolution of the Spheres' which put the sun at the centre of the universe, and the earth as one of the many planets which revolves round it. .. ; I who ... I who ... I who ... ," he went on claiming because he knew the names he was mentioning sounds like heavy, heavy grammar to his illiterate wife.

“Oh, I wish my parents had sent me to school,” she said bitterly as her husband went on mentioning some notable names in the history of exploration and wars in the world.

“Ah, ah? Muka, better than me English-wise? Mukaila! Mukaila! Mukaila! Commercial! Commercial! Commercial! You have been saying repeatedly without allowing me hear any other word whenever Ojo's education issue is being discussed,” he retorted angrily.

“But he makes plenty money from his typing-work, and that is what matters in a man's life, coupled with his well-functioning walking-stick that can satisfy any lady,” she said.

“Yes! Mukaila is very good at typing fast, and he has been making a lot of money daily. But he is still very deficient in understanding of English syntax,” he told her.

“I thank God that you have just admitted that he makes plenty money through his typing, and he is very good at it courtesy of his commercial school education,” she replied.

“He is just an ordinary typist making money from ignorant people. Sometimes when some people gave him letters to type, your Mukaila-ology did not even know how to correct some little spelling errors made by them. Apart from that, when there were also syntax errors in some of the sentences, he could not correct them. I was...the one who pointed out several syntax errors to him when Mr. Alafia gave him a letter to type two weeks ago,” he said.

“What does Mr. Alafia know himself? He is an illiterate like me too,” she replied.

“The letter was written by Mr. Alafia's primary six school son. ~en Muka was typing everything gbruru-gbrara (anyhow), with his 'I-go-die' Christopher Columbus's era typewriter, while I, was standing by his kiosk at the Cocoa warehouse, I pointed out all the mistakes in the letter to him, and he thanked me very well. And now you are here telling me his mother said this and that about his being better than me in 'English-shish ism.' What arrant rubbish!" he had boasted while coining his own word, because the people of Ekiti like any word that contains the sound of ‘ism, ism.’

“Is that why you are condemning commercial school as substandard? At least nobody knows everything. Besides, anybody can make mistake no matter his or her age and level of education,” she reasoned.

“Oh, you are still having mouth to defend his intellectual inefficiency. You have not heard the full story yet. His letter typing error is just a tip of the iceberg of Mukaila's several blunders,” he said.

“What else do you have to say about him?” asked his wife.

“I did not want to say anything further again before your last statement is now spurring me to say the mother of all blunders committed by Mukaila last week, in the presence of his numerous previous admirers,” he told his wife.

“Stop prolonging issues. Just go straight to the point and tell me any other thing you have got to say about our village acclaimed typist, apart from the ones you have already mentioned,” his wife replied.

“By the way, have you heard of the name Mr. Bungalow before?” He asked her, while he at the same time stretched his neck towards her face, which brought his face directly in front of hers, with his hands akimbo.

“No!” She answered.

“You see. If you have been well educated, a bungalow should not be a difficult word for you to understand. When enlightened and current people like me are talking. you should listen with all your senses, in order to learn: So, listen and listen very well to what I am about to tell you about your Muka-Mukaka,” he said with an air of superiority.

“I am already listening to you,” she replied.

“That is good," he said and began to tell the story. "Last week, Mr. Ogagalistic Ogaga's daughter, Miss Ejiro Ogaga, who traveled sixteen years ago, returned home from the land of the white people, where some of them usually regard us' as black monkeys while they themselves are white monkeys. And I suppose you know Mr. Ogaga is from Delta State,” he said, while waiting for his wife's response to his last statement about Ogaga's place of origin.

Mrs. Ile-Iwe had nodded in affirmation to her husband's explanation. He then continued again with the story; "Okay. You know the place where we are now using as Cocoa warehouse was formerly where Mr. Ogaga's family's house was built before he sold it to the village cocoa farmers union who demolished it, and built the warehouse where Mukaila's typing-kiosk is erected beside...”

“I know!” She interjected as she was becoming impatient with her husband's 'you know, you know' expressions.

“That is fine,” he said, and continued the story from where he stopped. “So, Ogaga's daughter whom many of us thought was dead or lost in the white man's land because she has not been communicating with her family here back home, for twelve years, just came back surprisingly to discover that her father's house and her family members are no where to be found at the former place they were living before she traveled out years ago. She started looking and searching for any educated person around the village, whom she could inquire from, about her family's where about and what has happened to their family's house. When she observed that the villagers she earlier inquired from do not understand her borrowed American slang and accent, he became frustrated. She went on searching for any educated person who could understand her. Some villagers she had inquired from, had looked at her with suspicion that she' may be aGbomogbomo (kidnapper of children). They did not have the courage to stand close to her because they thought the slang she was speaking was a kind of incantations to make them lose their sense of reasoning in order for her to easily kidnap them. Others who ventured to go close to her simply responded with ‘Mi-o gbo’ (I don’t understand what you are saying) to her inquiry, as she attempted to speak Yoruba language. She had lost a great deal of the correct pronunciation of many words in Yoruba language. Her attempt at speaking Yoruba to them only made matters worse, as the sound that came from her mouth produces a kind of mosquito and dragonfly incomprehensible buzzing sound. It was at that point in time that she sighted Mukaila typing a letter beside the warehouse. She felt that since Mukaila is a typist, he must be the most educated person in that environment who could understand her inquiry better. She asked Mukaila about her family's whereabout thus: ‘Helluu, please there waz a Mr. Ogaga's bungalow standing on this spot sixteen years ago before 1 traveled to the States. Kin (Can) you tell mewhazz up with it, and where to meet his family members?’ But Mukaila was just gapping, looking confused . Ile-Iwe had mimicked Ogaga's daughter's style of speaking, and went on narrating the story. “Mukaila being a Commercial School graduate, who is not that sound in the rudiments of English grammar, phonetics, and lacks the bank of words, had thought Ogaga's daughter was asking after somebody called Mr. Bungalow. He did not know what a bungalow means in English. Instead of simply telling her that he does not understand her question, he made a big public ridicule of himself by asking some young secondary grammar school students who had just arrived from Ado-Ekiti, to check for their parents at the Igede Cocoa warehouse, whether they knew anybody called Mr. Bungalow. He had asked the students thus; ‘Ejowo boyzes (Excuse me boys), is there anybody bearing the name Mr; Bungalow in this community?’ Before the students could answer, he went on saying, ‘As for me, I no think there is anybody bearing that kine (type) of name in this village. Even if there is, it must be an Igbo person. The Igbos' can bear any name. It is only Igbo people I am very sure can bear that name. Eyin boyzes(you boys), don't you think so’ and I was surprised,” Mr. IIe-Iwe had said, mocking Mukaila's style of speaking. Mr. IIe-Iwe was also laughing at his wife that point in time he was telling her the story, as she seemed lost too herself. From her facial expression, it was clear she was also wondering whether a bungalow is truly a person's name or not, when her husband was narrating the story.

However, the husband told his wife what a bungalow means. He also said that the students had overheard Miss Ejiro Ogaga when she was asking Mukaila about her family's whereabout, that the students fainted from fits of laughter at Mukaila's ignorance, and subsequent response. Ojo's father further said that Mukaila had also misunderstood Ejiro's remark of ‘Kin (Can) you tell mewhazz up with it?’ as an inquiry about his own name (Mukaila), and he was said to have replied her in Yoruba language that, ‘Ah! Oruko mi kiin se Akin-o. Mukaila ni’ (My name is not Akin, my name is Mukaila). This according to Ojo's father, had further ignited a volcano of laughter from those who were there. The students from the grammar school however, saved the situation by explaining to those who cared to listen that, a bungalow is not a person's name, but a lightly built house with a veranda and one storey, according to the Chambers 20th Century Dictionary.

Most of the villagers who formerly held Mukaila in high esteem as the Socrates of typing, before Ogaga's daughter's visit, were disappointed at Mukaila's ignorance in spite of his commercial school education. Due to this incidence witnessed by Mr. Ile-Iwe, he had made up his mind to send his only child, Ojo, to a secondary grammar school, instead of a commercial school. Right from that time, he sees commercial school graduates as those who are only eager to make quick money at all cost, at the expense of having a sound educational knowledge. He is of the opinion that all typists or secretaries should be well educated, instead of just only knowing how to type any word written on paper without being able to make grammatical and spelling corrections in any piece containing errors. Hence, since Mukaila and Ejiro's dramatic incident became widely known in the village, any youth who is not well educated or not sound in English language is called a Mr. Bungalow or a Miss Bungalow, depending on the sex of the person. But ladies were scarcely jested with such tag. It is more prevalently used to qualify males who are known to always flex their superiority in educational accomplishment over one another, during scholarly supremacy tussle among the youths of Igede.

The most surprising aspect of Ojo’s educational issue to Mr. Ile-Iwe was that, even after the Mukaila's story, Ojo's mother still stood her ground that her son must not be sent far away to any distant school in the name of learning grammar. In order to allow peace reign, in his household, Mr. Ile-Iwe succumbed to his wife's point of view. Ojo was enrolled in the same commercial school Mukaila had attended. This gave him the opportunity to assist his parents in farm work after school hours and during harvest seasons. When he completed his commercial school education three years later, his mother said she is satisfied with her son's ability to type well and she is always proud of him to date. But his father is not pleased at all with Ojo's "Mother's-boy" attitude that has denied him opportunity of attending a better school in order to further his education on a sound footing. Therefore, whenever there is a disagreement between his parents on any issue, and Ojo takes sides with his mother, it always anger his father; which takes him to always make jest of Ojo by telling him “Shut up! You Mr. Bungalow,” comparing him with Mukaila the typist. At times he also make jest of him by saying, “I hope you will soon one day marry your mother, or if she is kind enough to allow you marry any lady, she will also be the one to chose who you should marry. You Mr. Bungalow!”

As time went by, after ten years of combining cocoa farming business with typing together like a twin brother to Mukaila beside the cocoa warehouse, Ojo joined the train of blokes trying to woo a lady known as Suzzy for marriage, courtesy of his mother. Suzzy is the prettiest damsel in the whole Igede community. She is one of those ladies who prefer to marry a not too well-read man that has money to a well-read man that has no money to spend for her. Several indigenous jobless graduates who pay regular visit to the community usually fall head over heels in love with Suzzy's smashing beauty. They usually use all sorts of romantic words in their vocabulary to try to convince her to accept their marriage proposals. After listening to their mellifluence love lines presented in Queens English, her response was always “Is it grammar I will eat? You better go and look for money to spend on me, and stop all those ‘sm, sm, sm’ you have been using to block my ears.”

Ojo’s mother had witnessed one of such occasions when Suzzy thoroughly washed down a bloke for persistently pestering her, after she had told him he is not man enough to marry her as he does not have money to cater for her needs. The particular young man pleaded to her to be patient, that his present precarious financial condition would soon change for good, as soon as he was able to secure any good salary earning job. Suzzy told him she had been hearing such tales several times over and over again, that she no longer subscribes to such daydreams of building castles in the air.

Things have been turning from bad to worse for some graduates she had dated in the past who have been searching for unavailable job vacancies for over a period of four years after their graduation from university. As there is still no guarantee of jobs anywhere for many graduates, Suzzy no longer wants to waste her time with any jobless and penniless man proposing to her. Her charming beauty even makes many married men who were walking with their wives beside them, turn back to look at her whenever she was walking along the road. This makes many married women jealous of her too.

Mrs. Ile-Iwe however, has been looking for a practical opportunity to prove to her husband, Mr. Ile-Iwe, her philosophy of 'Money makes a man, irrespective of a man's educational level.' As most ladies prefer men that can spend money on them than those who have only grammar to offer, Ojo's mother asked Ojo to woo Suzzy who has been turning down the proposals of some cherished 'sm, sm, sm' blokes in the community. There is nobody in Igede who is familiar with Suzzy that does not know about her penchant for money. Therefore, since Ojo has been making a lot of money over for some time, and had saved much of it, his mother knew he has what it takes to sway Suzzy into his arms whenever he wanted. But Ojo did not have the courage to woo her because of the inferiority complex he has, in view of his educational background, compared to Suzzy's. Suzzy is a university graduate.

“How can I ask her to marry me an ordinary typist who graduated from a local school like Omo-Ile-Iwe Commercial School?” he had told his mother.

“But you have money. Every woman needs money to take good care of herself. Besides, not only women, even men need money to cater for themselves too,” his mother replied.

His mother knew he has been suffering from inferiority complex. This has been responsible for the cold feet he develops whenever the issue of Suzzy was brought up. But being a woman, she knew what to do to capture Suzzy's heart for him. His mother collected a big sum of money from him to carry out investigation about the type of things Suzzy likes.

She divided the money among all the people she knew were close to Suzzy in order to get detailed information about her personal life. She however, found out Suzzy likes expensive designer clothes and wines which she couldn't even pronounce their names properly. Thereafter, she started buying gifts coupled with some cash, which she personally presented to Suzzy from time to time in the name of Ojo; after she had been able to gain her friendship through one of the sources she had used to investigate her. After her several praise-singing of Ojo to Suzzy, about his financial capability to take proper care of any woman who is lucky to find herself in his arms, an uncontrollable hunger to wrap up Qjo to herself possessed Suzzy. She became madly eager to visit Ojo one cold harmattan Sunday evening after one of such Ojo's mother's praise-singing of her son, supported with the great gifts she had presented to her, purported to have been sent by Ojo. Suzzy went with one of her friends called Kemi, to visit Ojo that evening after Ojo's mother’s departure from their usual secret meeting place. Kemi however, prefers marrying a well educated man who may not have enough money to cater for them at the point in time they were being wooed, to marrying a man like Ojo who has money but not well read.

Ojo was surprised by the way the two friends walked unannounced like ghosts into his room that sunny evening and the manner Suzzy just sent straight to him and planted a deep kiss on his lips. He nonetheless knew she did so because of his naira power, as his mother had earlier told him about Suzzy's anxiety to see him that evening when she had arrived home from her meeting with Suzzy. Kemi was not pleased with the way her friend presented herself so cheap to Ojo whom both of them had never ever spoken with all their life before that evening. She was even more disgusted with Suzzy's manners of dotting on Ojo like a prostitute. They have been friends from their university days, but she had never seen Suzzy behaving like a sex worker before. She could not stomach her disgust for the ‘Take me, I am all yours’ character her friend was displaying to a man she had just met face to face for the very first time. Kemi verbally expressed her opinions openly there and then by tongue-lashing her friend. Suzzy took it as an offence and had a noisy show down with Kemi shamelessly before Ojo’s very eyes.

Ojo’s father's sitting room is situated very close to Ojo's bed room in the large family compound they are living. Whatever anybody is saying in Ojo's room could be easily heard by anyone who is in his father's sitting room. Meanwhile, his wife who was privy to Suzzy's visit that evening has been boasting to her husband that her son, Ojo, will soon marry the most beautiful well known educated lady in Igede.

“Just wait and see. My son go soon prove to you say, with his money any woman go bow before him and lick im toes,” she had told her husband in pidgin English when she came back from her meeting with Suzzy that Sunday, before Suzzy finally arrived with her friend, Kemi.

“Did I not predict it some years ago that you may as well recommend a wife for him to marry? Has it not come to pass? Go on! Whatever you do with your son is not my concern since he is always ready to dance to your tune as 'Mother's boy,” he had replied her.

When Kemi was scolding Suzzy for acting like a whore before Ojo who is otherwise popularly known as Mr. Bungalow compared to Mukaila, Ojo's father who had sighted the two ladies, when they were entering Ojo's room, came into their presence to find out what was amiss. After listening to both ladies explanations, he had asked Kemi the question after the first paragraph at the very beginning of this story. Kemi's reply to him was of course as follow:

“Over my dead-body! In this Ekiti-kete clan whose people are known for being very proud of themselves and any individual that has acquired any university degree, I can never marry any Mr. Bungalow because of his money.”

“If you like you can marry aGrandmama-marian(Grammarian) wen no get money, or you fit marry a Mr. Gbongbonlow,” Ojo's mother mispronounced bungalow, and went on sailing “It is a matter of choice whomever anybody chooses to marry,” in response to Kemi's reply to her husband's question. And the room went dead silent.

Outside, that particular day, the sun’s golden rays was like the bellowing wavy winds on the surrounding vegetations, as the frozen silence in Ojo’s room was melting to twilight. Kemi left Suzzy afterward, after she had told her she is no more interested in her friendship because they no longer belong to the same class as Suzzy has decided to marry one Mr. Bungalow.

(Written 2008)