Better Tomorrow Chapt. 7 - A Worthy Step Father!

'It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds. In the best boks, great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, an dpour their souls into ours. God be thankd for boks. They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life or past ages. Books are true levelers,. They give to all who will faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence, of the best and greatest of our race. - William Ellery Channing. Quoted from Ben Carson's "Think Big" p. 13

Chapter 7

Chief Ilugbusi

And

His Influence On Me

"My habit that invariably infuriated him for which he caned me, many times, was my talkative nature. As a child, I was always telling stories, without prompting, of whatever meals we ate whenever we were in our farm. Pa Ilugbusi did not particularly like that broadcasting exercise. The consequences were severe."

Chief Ilugbusi, my surrogate father, was a gentleman indeed. The fun about him was that he liked to converse in the English language, even though he had little education. However, most often, the result of such disposition might have been laughable doses of malapropism. For me, although I did not understand anything other than the strange sound of his spoken English, I admired him nevertheless whenever he so spoke because he always explained to me in our native dialect whatever he had said in English. He was a subsistent farmer. Although a Christian, he was said to attend church services only occasionally. I did not witness any of such occasions throughout our life together. But he did not associate himself with idol worshippers. He loved me very much. That fact, however, did not stop him from beating me as often as I had played pranks that resulted, say, in the breaking of the water gourds, palm-wine bottles, calabashes or whenever I was too inquisitive. Yet he pampered me with such unbelievable intensity almost immediately after such beatings!

He disdained to use any form of drugs, orthodox or traditional, for healing ailments. He believed, nevertheless, the Biblical saying that everything had its own time: time for strength, time for weakness, time for good health and time for sickness. Accordingly, whenever he took ill, he would rest for a day or two and, naturally, he would recover!

My habit that invariably infuriated him for which he caned me, many times, was my talkative nature. As a child, I was always telling stories, without prompting, of whatever meals we ate whenever we were in our farm. Pa Ilugbusi did not particularly like that broadcasting exercise. The consequences were severe.

I remember vividly one occasion that I nearly paid dearly for my abuse of liberty. The first sets of new yams were harvested toward the end of April in the community but with Pa Ilugbusi, some of his yams were already matured by late March. It was the custom that no new yam must be carried openly across the market place until after the Ogun festival (sacrifices to the god of iron) had been observed.

The festival was celebrated yearly between August and September, but Pa Ilugbusi did not worship Ogun and so he was not constrained to abide by such injunctions. We used to eat new yams as soon as they were strong enough for harvesting. We either pounded the yam or ate it cooked, at times with a sauce of garden-egg mixed with palm-oil and a tasty quantity of hot pepper. I enjoyed such meals so much that I thought only the life spent in Heaven might have compared at all with the period spent in the farm!

This memorable day, Papa forewarned me not to tell anyone stories of whatever we ate. His warning was particularly stern concerning the new yam, which we had just pounded and eaten for the first time that year. I promised to keep my lips sealed. But when we got home, in the warmth of welcome greetings, I forgot everything. Maybe, my tongue was faster than my brain, I did not know. All I knew was that I had summarized the event in the farm in the concise statement, “A ji'yan l'oko at'usu ibunbun” meaning, we ate pounded yam in the farm - laying emphasis on new yam. Papa shouted at me but it was rather too late. The story had been told to the fullest admiration and satisfaction of my eager audience. The swift intervention of my step-mother saved me from the dire consequence of his firm grip. But I will never forget the terrifying swishing-sound of the slim but strong, sun-dried atorin (cane) with which he had tried to discipline me!

As I write this book, there is a kolanut tree, somewhere very close to his tent then, which he made me to plant as a historical monument. He dug the hole and I inserted the kolanut seed, covered it up and he told me that the significance of that joint exercise was “if there is a dispute on this land tomorrow, you will be able to say factually that (unknown to him that he was not my biological father) your father dug this hole and that you put the kolanut seed which produced this tree.” That was around 1964 - three years before his death.

The Relationship Between Chief Ilugbusi and My Mother

Maybe because she was his very youngest wife or in his old age, love like wine, had become more meaningful and vintage, I do not know. My observation was that Chief Ilugbusi loved mother very dearly. It is pertinent to mention here that his first daughter was only a few years younger than my mother. So mother's marriage to him could only be attributed to the unquestionable custom of parents, particularly the father, determining whom their daughters married.

I can confirm that Pa Ilugbusi and mother neither exchanged unpleasant words nor engaged in any physical fight, except on one unfortunate evening.

It happened within a twinkle of an eye. As usual, mother served papa the king of foods - a well prepared pounded yam. She did not eat pounded yam herself that night. What really caused it I do not know. She must have, through her attitude, exhibited some anger - but I saw papa jump up to his feet suddenly as mother was leaving the room for her own garri (fried cassava powder or grains). It seemed a joke, but presently he held her by the waist, thereby preventing her from leaving the room. His grip must have been hurtful for mother uttered a painful cry. The encounter was soon over. Until death did them apart, I never again witnessed any misunderstanding between them.

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Note: As I write, I testify that my brother, Ajiboye, has given back to me (and permitted to be surveyed in my own name) the very plot of land I used to farm when I was with Late Pa Ilugbusi!  Today, Ajiboye and I farm together on his own lands all over the place.    His half brother, Chief Akinlabi Ilugbusi, is my mentor! We relate freely and exchange gifts at will.  Whether in poly or monogamous homes, LOVE is greater than anything!

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A Call To Charity

Life is about giving and inspiring people. I have a great vision to leave the world better than I met it. You can join (or help me to fulfil this) by ensuring this book is circulated world-wide free. Because of consciousness for quality, it costs approximately N1,200 to print a copy of this 320-page book. If you so desired, I can print your own name as "DONATED BY ...................................) on the number of copies you order. If you don't have time to distribute, I can do so on your behalf. If you want to distribute them yourself, I can ship them to you. Let's put a smile in someone's face! If interested, please send me a mail at treasuredynamics@gmail.com or better still sms or call me on 08034465225. The Lord will always remember you for favour as you are doing to people with your gift of this book to humanity. Amen. Someone has started it already! Read below please.

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APPRECIATION


"Wonderful ! This is like reading 'Thriller in Manila' ! ! I could not believe its not fiction? Please send me 4 hardcopies of the books through any of your contacts.....for a token N10,000 ........... Story is moving.. Congratulations. Cheers." - Austen

My comment:


Thanks sir, the story is not only real but scientific. With this N10k donation, I am producing 8 CUSTOMISED copies acknowledging your name on each; 4 for you and 4 to be given out on your behalf to people you never and may never meet in life. That's your contribution to humanity.


Surely, just as I did with Ben Carson's "Gifted Hands" recommended to me by Mary, I am going after "Thriller in Manila", if anything, to compare experiences! Remain blessed.


Yemi