Farm sites and farming were two of the African tradtional phenomena I so much resented as I was growing up with Father in the absence of Mother in my native Ikire: the early morning kisses of the opposite buses on the narrowly tortuous path to maize or cassava, or even Coacoa plantation annoyed me, the long distance that tired me out before the marathon manual ridging or weeding commenced hurt my budgeoning but discerning spirit a great deal, the hot sun or irritant-drizzlings that introduced the heavy rain pours made me regret ever being born, the ceaseless labouring that hunger worsened broke my childhood humanity, the firewood gathering and tied bundle on my exhausted energy forced me to ask if I was really loved by God and by Father; at the detriment of my school assgnments and studies that ought to distinguish me as a gem, I would doze as I swallowed the miserable plate of Eba or Fufu offered me in spherical lumps. What else could I do? And, this continued for a long period of time. I cant even remember how I had always emerged as one of the most endearing academic forces to reckon with at the Primary and Secondary schools! One day-when my younger brothers and I had ascertained that Father was far into the territories of Nod, we held a revolutionary meeting against farm-going. I addresed my younger brothers the way Old Major addressed the animals in George Orwells ANIMAL FARM as follows Opeyemi and Tunde, we are not cut out for manual labour as brilliant children; it is not a path to outstanding success that we do daily dream of, having being exposed to writers and lawyers, mechanised farmers and international traders, etc. Look at all the old and dying natives of this town, they are what they are because they lack good education, because they share citizenship with other animals in the raw jungle; we need to focus more on our studies, to devotoe more time to reading if we must be conscious and make it in life. Going to farm every evening and on weekends is an enemy of this set target. We must put an end to it as ambitious children. And, putting an end to it means forfeitig the accompanying benefits. We must make up our minds whether we prefer the confused but sustaining diets going to farm on a daily basis offered us to reading and other undistrupted rituals of academic hard now. Opeyemi, 11 and Tunde 6 were always inspired by whatever mutiny I initiated at the age of thirteen. Together, we ran away the following day Father had counted on us as family laboureres at his subsistence farm sight. We were combed out and severely caned by him for ever thinking of sabotaging his plans; but he understood our points and limited our farm-going to only Saturdays. This is one of the reasons a chamber of my heart beat for his good today. -Culled from Resurrected Memory, my personal story.
Posted on: Sun, 18 May 2014 16:22:29 +0000
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