New People in Rice Farms- Title and Copy Right Page

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New People in Rice 
Farms                                                                                                                 

Hammid Taju

© Hammid Taju 2018

PUBLISHER

Lomar Ethan Nigeria Limited

Hamdala Plaza
Jimmy Carter Street
P. O. Box 11877, Garki
ABUJA, NIGERIA
e-mail lomarethan@yahoo.com
NATIONAL LIBRARY OF NIGERIA
CATALOGUING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

ISBN: 978-080-210-X

HAMMID, Taju 1947-

PRINTED IN ABUJA, NIGERIA, 2017

PREFACE

The Author undertook the revival of “From Fadama with Cane Sugar” in response to popular demand, not unconnected to the curiosity of readers in the intelligentsia group. The story unfolds into the evolving commercial development of massive hectares of rice farms along with other agro allied projects in Bacita-Shonga-Lafiagi-Pategi axis of Kwara State in Central Nigeria.  AgricultuC
, Suma Benue  had delved into the history of Aluju rice fields and perused the politics of global production of the crop. 

CHAPTER 1

Suma Benu couldn’t believe his ears. Never could he have thought, not even in a bad dream, that Ando Kajere, his patron, his friend, and his father, could speak such words to him. Did Ando really call him a fool? The words were like acid which burnt and hissed through his ears, his heart and his bowels. When an hour later he stumbled down the creaking staircase, hardly hearing Fatimah the receptionist wish him good evening, sir, he was unsteady on his feet like a man who had narrowly escaped drowning.

Suma had begun to feel uneasy as he waited in the managing director’s office.  Meanwhile he passed the time flirting with the Executive Secretary.  Kajere’s Ando had been the Managing Director of Aluju General Cereals Company for seven years.  Suma Benu  had counted the passing time which had been so vexingly long. When at last he was called in, the usual day of smiling welcome did not light up Ando’s face as Suma crashed through the door and raised his fist in royal but familiar greeting. Nor did Alhaji Ando begin with teasing and happy familiarities as was his habit.   The man who lived behind that door had a heart which may jump in unpredictable direction.  He was nonetheless resplendent in a freshly laundered blue buban riga  and a beautiful hand woven dipcherima cap to match.

 Ando sat motionless, his jet black face bent over a file as Suma walked down the dark green carpet of the executive office.

“I have read your seminar paper but I do not understand it”   Ando reacted to the younger man’s unexpected thrust on the door.  Suma Benu was locating a chair to adjust himself“ You know that I am not too clever. I did not go to America.” Ando was unduly sarcastic.  

Educated at the School of Agriculture, Kabba, Kogi State, Alhaji Ando  later earned Bachelor of Science (Honours) at the Faculty of Agriculture, Ahmadu Bello University, Samaru, Zaria, Nigeria.  Furthermore, he studied and practiced surveying in addition to many top management programmes he attended at home and abroad.  
Alhaji Ando was contented, attaching prime value to experience but rather suspicious about multiple university degrees earned outside the shores of Nigeria.

Thirty four year old Suma Benu paraded with confidence, multidisciplinary higher degrees earned in the United States of America, England and Sweden.  He was an agricultural scientist and an economist who was returning from Michigan. Alhaji Ando Kajere had taken the unheard of step of going to meet the young man at Murtala Muhammed airport and returning with him to Aluju in the company’s Dornier. A colleague in Kaduna from Suma’s home village had put in a good word for the young graduate. From that moment, the managing director had taken Suma as his protégé, quartered him officially in the Karaworo guesthouse.  Suma lived to all intents and purposes in Alhaji Ando’s home.

“For a successful person, what education was better than native wisdom supplemented by practical learning?” Ando often surmised, beating his chest that there was he as Managing Director while Suma Benu with his Master of Science degree in agronomy would develop a career under his supervision.  Suma Benu was an aggressive intellectual who would stir controversy by method of radical propositions in seminar papers that would clearly hurt Alhaji Ando.  But the Chief Executive realized the need for urgent injection of competences for strategic growth of agro industry in the part of the country.

Life had not been the same since the General Cereals Company came on stream and Kajere and Suma Benu were sadly aware.  Neither research staff nor money for rapid development of rice plantations could be raised.  Equipment for irrigation of the plantations was also in a state of disrepair. In several fields, especially those near the factory and the warehouse, the sprinklers had cased to work. And although sack full of fertilizers still filled sheds they were just any fertilizers and not the special nutrients which the alluvial sand of river bed needed to make it nourishing to greedy rice.  In the mills, de stoning machines which were a part of the original factory design were never installed. Poor yield and deteriorating marketing environment compounded the problem.

“Our rice is not competing with imported long grain variety.  Domestic producers have always been vulnerable.” Ando lamented that the political environment was unfavorable.  Importers manipulated the market.  Nigerian food wholesalers preferred imported rice to cheaper domestic production.

Suma Benu reminded Alhaji Ando of conversations they had over the   short sightedness of bigwigs in Lagos who were ruining the commercial network of the nation. Ando himself had wondered how policy supported continuous importation of rice which diminished capacity for self sufficiency and pauperized rural producers. The two men had identical concern about the capacity of the nation to feed itself and institutionalize food security.  Suma Benu had enjoyed Ando’s confidence. It became Ando’s habit to draw Suma into discussion on critical official matters.  Suma became instantly a power in the establishment. He was knowledgeable and he controlled information on global agriculture, food prices, shortages and trends in the production of survival crops.  As an agronomist who robbed shoulders with men who had rice production in their blood, a compulsive searcher of the written word, Suma Benue  had delved into the history of Aluju rice fields and perused the politics of global production of the crop.

Having settled in operations, what did Suma not owe Alhaji Ando? His commanding position in the company, the lovely bungalow he occupied which was originally intended to be the chairman’s lodge, a chain of contacts in Ilorin, Kaduna and Lagos and load of  expensive gifts. One year after his arrival in Aluju, Suma was promoted to take the place of the foreign consultant, Dr Robin Banks who had been chief agronomist since the beginning. The following year Suma became field manager. It seemed as if it was only a question of time before Alhaji Ando himself would move into a higher orbit leaving the managing directorship to Suma.

Suma was fully conscious of his debts although he did not ask himself what the ultimate cost of these good things would be. Not to acknowledge Alhaji Ando’s abounding love would have been most rascally attitude to take.  But relationship had not been continuously smooth in view of erupting occasional skirmish which arose from Suma’s interpretation of change strategy.  His expectations of subordinates’ output were rather ambitious for the workforce that must be carried along.  During a visit to the office of the managing director and seeing  how angry and distressed his patron was, Suma rose from his chair and would have thrown himself prostrate on the floor in remorse before the chief executive.  Alhaji Ando observed the antics in restraint but proceeded to advise Suma to review his tactics in handling relationships at work.  The message did not quite register but Suma accommodated the admonishment.  

Indeed Suma did not know for how long he stood speechless before his boss who, after mopping his sweat soaked face with a handkerchief, returned to his file. Perhaps Suma stood there only a moment. Perhaps he stood there for an hour. From the secretary’s room, the chatter of the typewriter was like the barking of a mad baboon.  Staring with difficulty as if he had been in a drugged sleep, Suma walked unsteadily out of the room. The shimmering heat of the September midday subsequently beat upon him repetitively.

Furthermore it had become obvious that technical and strategic discussions between Suma Benu and Alhaji Ando had leaked to the consultants’ base in India.

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CHAPTER 2

Suma was not a handsome man and he knew it.  He wore big black scars  around his forehead.  But God rewarded him by an encounter in Alhaji Ando’s house.  Saratu, a light skinned, beautiful, lanky and shy niece of the head of the household would always rise from the chair in which she stationed herself and left the room whenever Suma Benu entered during his frequent visits. In her silence and childlike graces, Suma saw the refinement which American women, with all their cleverness and noise, had forfeited. But Suma had no chance of talking to Saratu.

When Saratu’s first arrived in Aluju on completion of the National Youth Corps programme, life was not easy.  She studied Botany in University of Maiduguri and worked in a palm fruit plantation in Edo state during her service.  Her mother shared parentage with Alhaji Ado.  At first Saratu had nothing to occupy her mind in the solemn environment in Aluju.  She was indeed bored to tears. But after one agonizing month during which she was practically alone in the house from morning till evening, she told herself that being an unemployed university graduate did not mean that she had lost her poise.  The stepmother, Hajiya Rakiya, her domineering uncle’s wife had after all treated her as a daughter. So Saratu began to spend her mornings following Hajiya Rakiya from room to room learning the secrets of wife craft and womanhood. Hajiya Rakiya teased her for being so sleepy in the morning. Nonetheless Saratu turned Hajiya’s two daughters Bilkisu and Safiya into pets.  They were eight and six years old respectively.  Saratu showered them with care and affection.

Suma Benu eventually worked into Saratu’s mind through Hajiya Rakiya’s observation that Suma’s frequent visits to their house was not strictly for official purpose.

“I am sure you have something like a pending agenda with us in this villa,” Hajiya teased Suma during one of frequent unannounced visits.

Suma pretended to be shocked but rather amused and encouraged to open up.

“Hajiya, you have always been my mother, I am sure you know that I did not return alone from America for nothing”

“You mean your eyes do not deceive you”

The brief interchange was loaded.

Suddenly, Suma saw the possibility of sharing his heart with a loved one, an occurrence he had not hitherto imagined.  Up to the moment he had conceptualized an inaccessible relationship between him and Saratu.
Suma Benu assessed himself as tough, skillful and well-educated. He identified Saratu as a rather weak young lady who needed masculine protection.  Suma imagined himself toiling day and night, even abandoning his vocation, to give security and position in society to a wife of his dream who could be beautiful Saratu.  In return he expected the love of his life to cling to him because she needed him. But while Saratu thought of future dependable relationship, she clearly understood the matter differently. In fact developing a concept about Suma Benu the young lady had consistently classified the agronomist as subordinate of her uncle, indeed the appendage and parasite? She mentally defined Suma as a hustler, some drowning man who had to cling to her as the   niece of the managing director to save himself from the open sea? Unknown to Suma, in spite of the lady’s silence and her flirtatious shyness, Saratu seemed to nurse a consciousness of the strength of her position.   Nonetheless Suma was overtly conscious of his status as Field Manager, the passport he intended to use to win the lady’s heart.

It came to pass that love blossomed between Suma and Saratu.  Hajiya Rakiya, her husband and Saratu’s parents had accommodated the entreaties from Suma’s immediate family who trooped into Aluju from Osimapa along the confluence of the Rivers Niger and Benue.  Suma’s kith and kin asked for Saratu’s hands in marriage.  The birth of three lovely girls in quick succession and Saratu’s staying in the house all time had filled, smoothed and polished Suma’s rugged life.  Saratu’s  eyes were deep pools which radiated a cooling light like the mist raising from mountain brooks at midday. Her walk was a lazy swagger which was at the same time proud, weak and sensual.  Suma Benu was full of joy.

CHAPTER 3

Apparently Suma’s uncle had come to the office about midday while Suma was out inspecting the various plantations controlled by him.  He had come with news about Suma’s mother. The old lady had been ailing for more than two years. The traditional medicine men in the village had exhausted all their incantation and had given her up. The mysterious illness of which she had fallen victim was beyond them. Some time ago, Alhaji Ando had arranged for her to be seen by a specialist in Ilorin. Some relief had been obtained, but it was only for a time. A month later, the lower abdominal pain of which she complained had returned now accompanied by a giant odour.

Even though Suma, as de facto general manager of the plantations, now had resources that extended far beyond his monthly salary, his mother’s medical bills which increased as her chances of recovery diminished, was a considerable burden. In the last weeks he had sent hardly any money home. Perhaps he had already given up all hope concerning the old lady whose complaints he recognized as a lower abdominal cancer. But in giving her up he felt the keenest grief as if his mother already lay dead in her bed. It occurred to him that long before the illness began, he had substituted occasional gift of money for love and companionship he owed his mother. Now that pain and forebodings of death had put her beyond human contact, Suma saw that he had long ceased to be the dutiful son he wanted to be. As a student in America, he had written to his mother regularly. He had told her about his hope and attainments. He had talked over everything with her. But now that she was much closer, the distance between them had widened.  Suma’s uncle had apparently gone home without waiting to see his nephew. He expected Suma in the village in the course of the week.

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On arrival in Aluju plantations, Suma Benu had established friendship with Ndagi Labaran, the rice mill supervisor who had worked in numerous operations in the enterprise.  It was a splendid world in which the spirits of the two gentlemen moved freely. The friendship between Suma and Ndagi was nourished by this kind of companionship.

“Tell me again what this place was like fifteen years ago,” Suma asked his friend

“Why do you ask ?” Labaran was also curious

“You said that the Europeans lived in caravans and started work at dawn.”

“And we the Nigerian staff worked round the clock starting from 5.00 in the morning until late at night. Nobody grumbled. The labourers even liked it. You won’t believe it, but we spent t months fixing the Mill.   One British engineer, Mr. Reeve just went on bringing numerous machine components, and persisted on adjusting and fixing them until the day when he got it right. The labourers were paid according to piecework. They all wanted to finish their piece the same day even if it meant working right through the night. But now we have culture polluted trade unions. So many people report sick and they hang around, portraying malingering attitude.”

“Ndagi, my brother, do you realize that these rice plantations are finished? Do you realize that we will go bankrupt and close down? Do you realize that we are producing at about 23 per cent capacity and selling less than half of our  production.

“That is not my concern.”

“Look at this slum. Every roof is leaking. The walls need washing. Your chairs are in ruins and one of these days the springs will allow your buttocks through. How long have you been waiting to get a house in the Karaworo  Reserve?”

As these thoughts swirled round in Suma’s head, Ima flitted into the room. At six years of age, she had already lost two milk teeth with the result that she lisped and refused to smile. But she was all the same light and winged like an angel. With her mother’s slim and bridgeless nose and her dark dewy eyes, she was an exceptionally attractive child. Between her and her father an Oedipus type of bond existed. She related to Suma as a companion and she talked to him openly as she would talk to her friend. Ima approached her father frowning because she had a grievance to speak of, and smiling too because she had put her mother’s lip stick on.

“Come and sit here, my child, “Suma said and continued “Adamu is a very good driver. We have never had an accident with him. You remember the time when the Kukoyi’s had an accident and their mother died and Bimbo, your friend, had a broken arm? We have never had an accident like that. Adamu is a very careful driver. You should thank God that he is our driver. I wish I can do my work as well as Adamu does his own work.”

As soon as her father launched into his frustrating grown-up talk, Ima thrust her frail little body against his and tried shutting his mouth with her hands. The lecture simply meant that she was not going to get what she wanted.

“Adamu is a bad man. Adam is a bad dirty man. He lies and lies and lies. I do not like him; and he smells.” The little girl repeated. “Daddy, Adamu did not come for me in time today. I stood in the sun waiting all afternoon after all my school friends had gone home,” she looked steadily at her father to see whether the enormity of her ordeal was registering. She weighed the right of a field manager’s daughter to punish persons in a lower social position who offended her?”

“I am sorry, my baby. I will speak to him.”

“I want you to sack him. He is a bad man.  He is a very bad man. A bad man tells lies all the time.”

Suma looked at the child. Her clear eyes, bright as a bird’s, sparkled with changing light. Her slim body was as light as a flower; and her words as straight as a bird’s song.  

“Where did she get all this self-assertion from, and why did it not darken her innocent gaze? Where did she learn the lesson of vindictiveness from? The lipstick she wore in jest, the expensive flowered dress she had picked up from the wardrobe when there was no adult to stop her, and the gold studs on her ears: did these things speak?’’

The conversation was cut short by the arrival of Hajiya Rakiya. Swaddled as usual in the many folds of an expensive green silk wrap above a black ankle - length gown, her lovely face peeped out like a baby’s wrapped in a shawl.  Her perfume filled the room. For a time, Hajiya and Suma lingered on courtesies of welcome because they had not really expressed warmth toward each other for some time.  Suma who had expected that Saratu would be coming with her step mother became increasingly apprehensive that the visit would be stormy. But as Hajiya pushed aside the dried meat which Ima brought for her, she spoke very casually and on an unusual topic and left the house.

Suma followed Hajiya outside his bungalow but returned to the lounge immediately. He looked round the sitting room with its low windows boxed in mahogany and covered with green mosquito proofing and the white ceiling boards. It was as if he wanted to take an inventory of what he had achieved in the years he had lived in that house. He had certainly been comfortable. Plump cushions and elaborate lace finishing lined the back of the deep armchairs. Poufs in Arabic leather died black and gold lay scattered with sunken middles where Ima and Dauda had been riding them as durbar horses.  The children came in quick succession,  Ima, a charming light skinned girl had been a bundle of joy. Always playful, with her toys, Ima, at four years, also ate her meals readily.  The little brother, Dauda, two years old, had been given his maternal uncle’s name.  The boy was precocious and jumped at objects of interest at first sight.  He was quick at recognizing people who had previously played with him thereby sustaining the confidence to be appreciated.

Suma Benu examined the walls of his lounge, decorated in cheerful off yellow colour.  At attractive positions on the walls, visitors could stare with profound interest at mounted photographs of the master of the house, Saratu and the children.   Also conspicuous on the walls,  a large glazed picture of a  thick forest in splendid state of nature and a beautiful bronze cast of giraffe

Also displayed in a corner of the lounge were gifts from  Alhaji Ando consisting of the China ware containing bright coloured artifical food items including banana, pineapple and raspberry as well as a set of coffee pots and small containers in carved wood utilized for serving nuts and chocolates.

What did this vulgar show of doubtful riches mean? The room was like a billboard on which Suma posted the trophies of his success. What he was telling the world was that he now walked among the great and the successful who would appreciate the display in his lounge.   Suma believed that he had acquired managerial experience required for positioning himself at higher level in the society.

However, to hear his wife, Saratu clucking and laughing with Ima, one would think the former was in good company. The young woman had turned the challenge of her loneliness into an art of motherhood. Last December, Suma had added a video player to the television set in the inner parlour. Therefore, Saratu and her children had a private world of intense dramatic action into which they could retreat from the heat and inactivity of rice plantations.

But Saratu did not have a life in common with her husband. Indeed she lived three different lives herself. With her husband, she was like a jewel shut tight in its case. With Hajiya Rakiya she tried to be worldly and manipulative. With her children, everything was play and make – belief. None of these worlds was substantial enough to share with Suma. She thought that his interests were hard and brutal rice planting, factory machinery, commodity supply contracts and local power politics.   Saratu imagined it was indecorous and unfeminine to try to penetrate this world. So the big fire of her coming together with Suma died down without igniting the slow – burning wood that keeps the house warm day by day.

Three months after the wedding, Suma had one day remembered that he owed letters to Marion Shroeder, the girl friend of his agricultural college days in Michigan. They had written to one another weekly during the first trimester of his return to Nigeria. He had told her literally everything, about Alhaji Ando, Saratu, his job in the rice plantations, his old mother ailing in the village, the millionaire’s row in Kaduna, and the difficulties of putting his roots down again in the Nigeria soil without benefit of Mcdonald’s chicken, fresh fruit juice and intelligent conversation. Marion’s letters which were always bulky, almost a diary, became Suma’s substitute for intelligent conversation, a rubber nipple he sucked on to soothe the pains of his weaning from the scientific culture of the agricultural college of Michigan State University. It was not the case that absence made Suma fall in love again with Marion, a roughly made South Carolinian with buck teeth. But he longed for something she represented, a close toughening not just of bodies but of minds, with its deep intimacies, and the fighting too and making it up again

When Suma came back to the house at midday badly bruised and smarting after his encounter with Alhaji Ando, Saratu and the children were in their part of the house watching an intricate episode oblivious of Suma’s infusion. He went straight to his room. But the gloom of the drawn curtains, the crimson furnishing, and the heavy incense which Saratu often burnt in the room were far from soothing. He felt as if he had entered a sorcerer’s den. Falling into a chair, he closed his eyes to be alone with his incense.  Hardly minutes passed before the maid came in with a chilled bottle of coke in a plastic wicker basket tray. Thirsty as Suma was, he was not up to the effort of opening the plastic bottle. Saratu did not come in to talk with her husband until an hour later when, powdered and perfumed and adorned in white lace with green and gold trimmings, she was ready for her daily visit to Hajiya Rakiya. Without glancing at Suma, she walked straight to the long mirror by the window and began to adjust her head scarf. “You see the nice cloth Mama Rabi gave me?”

Sume peered uncertainly in the direction she indicated as he slowly rose to the surface.

 “It is nice, isn’t it”

“How can Mama Rabi give you anything? She can’t even buy herself one kobo akara.”

“You don’t like the cloth? It will go well with the shoes

you brought from Lagos.”

Suma was too busy with his own miseries to think of Mama Rabi.  But it irked him that Saratu would take a gift from anybody. Whenever she went to the camp, she came back loaded with grocery and gift drinks which the starving families there piled upon her. She should be sending things to those underprivileged people instead of taking whatever they had from them.

“Why did you not pay Mama Rabi for the cloth? I gave you some money this morning.”

“Those women love me too much.”

“You’d better start loving them a bit in return.” Saratu came close to her husband who was still sitting slumped in his chair. Her perfume enveloped him and bending close to his face, she batted her eyelashes in his face.

“You are the only one who doesn’t love me.”

Suma was too much tangled up in his feelings to respond to these blandishments. He glanced up but he did so frowningly. Discouraged Saratu went back to the mirror, brought out her lip stick and deepened the red of her mouth.  Turning sideways, she looked at herself in profile and shook her ample backside. 

 “Fausat will bring you ground rice and chicken when you want to eat. Or do you want the suya Malam Paro brough yesterday?”

Saratu was already on her way out the room when the children, Ima and Dauda were heard chanting under the fig tree in front of the house: “me too”, “me too”. They wanted Hajiya Rakiya who was just coming into the house to pick them up. Hajiya was not in the habit of visiting the Benus.  She claimed the right that they whom she called her children should come to her. At thirty-six, she continuously showered praise on God for the gift of two beautiful daughters.  With a pale brown skin,  delicate nose and dignified carriage of  Shuwa Arab lady, she was indeed  a very beautiful woman. Her voice was a soprano with subtle inflexions and run-on notes. Dressed in a flowing black robe with her face framed in white damask, she was like an angel incarnate in too much flesh.

After the greetings were done, Suma left the two women together to resume the unbroken thread of their daily intercourse. For a long time their speech and laughter rang round the house. But then they subsequently subsided into confidential whispers which went on for nearly half an hour.

Saratu’s face, when she rejoined her husband, was rigid with distress. As usual she did not look at Suma. But there was nothing artful in her averted glance this time. Sitting on the bed she closed her eyes. And slowly, without uttering a sound, she let two tunnels of tears run her cheeks. All the make belief of which she was mistress had melted away from her. The real young woman, exposed and overweight lay trembling slightly on the bed.

Suma was deeply touched. Springing up, he went to Saratu and put his arms round her.

“What is the matter? Are you in pain?”

For some time she did not speak. Since the birth of Dauda, she had been liable to crippling back ache which some times immobilized her for a week. Dr Darakina had made no precise diagnosis. But he warned and teased Suma about the dangers of having his children in such close sequence.  Saratu’s pains greatly complicated relationships between the couple. Suma was more tender and caring; and being more caring, his demand for the attention of his wife doubled. He often just wanted to comfort Saratu when she was in pain.  Saratu, at first continued to weep but heaved a sigh of relief as her husband tried to pacify her. Often her body tensed up and, with a sudden shudder, she would repel Suma.

“Get away and don’t touch me.”

Suma could only stare at her. And it took some time before she continued.

“My uncle gives you everything. I give you everything. But you are not satisfied

“What is the matter? Has the devil got into you?”

“You ungrateful restless man, you want my uncle’s job. You have a house. You have children. You have money. You are a big man.  But you want my uncle’s Job.

“Your uncle?”

‘Yes, my uncle.”

“You want Lagos environment. O..K., you go to Lagos any time you like. My uncle never stops you. So what do you want then?” Suma now saw clearly that the earthquake which shook his official life earlier would also bring down the timber of the household. The foundation on which he built his life was indeed crumbling. It was not even clear any more that he was the builder and not just a tenant. As the mists surged round him Saratu got up and without further hesitation left the room.

Suma could not decipher the link between hi wife’s outburst and the immediate visit by Hajiya Rakiya.

 CHAPTER 4

After the sporadic encounter with Saratu, Suma proceeded to Idisepa, the middle income estate lying among grass and garbage heaps to the left of the road where factory foremen and farm supervisors were housed. The police station, St Joseph’s church, the modest mosque with its two turrets, one grocery store and a small pharmacy described by users as medicine shop surrounded the central square. Within the vicinity were clustered matchboxes in cement and rusty corrugated iron in which the workers lived. Idisepa is a modern slum full of sweaty women who manipulated small make-shift corn and pepper grinding machines.  Husbands were substantially operators on rice processing equipment in numerous plantations along the River Niger stretching from Jebba, Bacita, Shonga, Lafiagi and Patigi.  Internal migration before independence and decades thereafter favoured the environment with industrious settlers, most of who adopted the rice belt as home.  

The fertile rice belt, located along the bank of the River Niger between its tributaries, Rivers Moshi and Kaduna is situated at the southern end of Niger State and northernmost part of Kwara State in North Central Nigeria.

Rice has rapidly developed into staple food in Nigeria, the West Coast of the continent and indeed in the Maghreb.  Breakfast cereals, baby foods and elaborate dishes are formulated from rice.  Numerous branded flakes and crisps dominated markets.  In the belt, rice had been grown substantially in upland areas while cultivation of rice had existed in many regions of the country especially in swampy southern zone of the South East.  Indeed scientists confirmed that throughout the West coast of Africa, mangrove rice is abundantly produced specifically along the coasts and by rivers.   

 As Ando Kajere had expected, Suma Benu  plunged his life into rice production between the two tributaries of the river Niger.

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About half year into the arrival of Suma Benu in Aluju, Ndagi Labaran benefited from training sponsorship to participate in a programme on advanced milling technology in Korea where he learned detailed   production processes for polished rice.  On his return to Aluju Ndagi had called to ask his friend, Suma  to pick up a small present he brought for him. On Suma’s arrival in his friend’s house, they hugged and chatted casually for a time. When Ndagi’s wife Munirat brought out cold fanta and some Korean nuts, Suma complimented her for looking so good after her husband’s return.   Ndagi dashed into the bedroom and came out with a book on policy on rice self sufficiency in Korea.  He also brought a beautiful shirt for Suma.

“So you remembered us in for away Korea even though you were standing on your head all the time. Thank you very much, brother. You don’t know what my wardrobe looks like these days,” Suma was highly appreciative.

“Oh yes I know. You are always gorgeously turned out.”

“And how does it feel to be back home?”

“It’s great man. Simply great.”

“You mean you don’t like Korea.”

“ I mean that I like home.”

“Have you looked at this house? Have you looked at the rice plantations?  How can you always like it here?”

“Looks as if you are seeing these things for the first time.”

“And the improved milling methods you have just been learning; do you think you will ever use them here?”

“Don’t know. And don’t care either. It was great to know that it can be done. That is all that matters.”

“Even if we never actually do anything along the methods.”

“But I am optimistic.”

For a time the two friends talked about rice self sufficiency in Nigeria,  integrated mills and impact of global economy. As they talked, they were transported into a world of ideal technological possibilities.

The pay day in Aluju rice plantations was most often celebrated as festival by workers. It was defined as day of empowerment.  The food vendors exercised bargaining power on the eventful day.  Some workers were consistently identified in the “book me down” category.  They mortgaged their monthly wages on food sellers’ credit line.  

“I can see that you have not settled your debt. Fatai, you have got enough money with you”, Mama Temi furiously challenged her debtor.

“I am ready to pay. “,   Fatai made effort to protect his image while trying to abscond.  The lady grabbed Fatai’s shirt.

Daniel Usman explored conciliation by suggesting immediate release of money by Fatai.

“Madam, please release his shirt,” Usman pleaded on behalf of his colleague. “You and Cletus should come to an agreement over whatever the balance may be. Try to explain to him the things he has bought at different times. You know Fatai is your customer. Try to be patient with him”. Usman utilized social tactic to resolve the issues amicably.

Many similar disputes and reconciliation were going on throughout markets on rice plantations on the pay day.  Indeed by this process, some workers hardly went home with their pay pocket.

“I have only 750- naira in my pocket. There are other customers who received outstanding money owed to them from me today”, stated bulky Katanga who was reputed to be diligent in paying debt to food vendors.

Most workers who entered hangouts with their pay packets often went home without good news for their families. Such workers had more sordid stories to all their wives instead of giving money for food and for other family needs.

“Yams, elubo, pepper, garri and palm oil have all finished in the house” Hanatu informed her husband, Katanga who returned to his house feigning tiredness.

“Who finished all the food in the house?”  Katanga asked his wife as he stared at his hungry children, two of whose stomachs were presumed to be protruding for reason of malnutrition. The children dared not cry because Kantaga’s “bulala” hung on the wall for any insolent complaint.  Nonetheless Katanga wondered how he worked so hard in rice mills but received low remuneration.

‘You know last month, I brought a lot of money home because we were paid our overtime. Today, I think my money is not complete”, Katanga lied to his wife

“It is only your own money that is never complete but your brain was so complete that you consume more food and pepper soup outside instead of providing the family with sufficient money.   You can do what you like, God is with us”, stated Hanatu in resignation.

Some of the workers engaged in adaci with their wages. This was the popular annual savings scheme. The first time John Damila was approached, he was reluctant.

“How many people will be on the adaci” John asked Yekini Kola.

“We are ten and we will contribute N1, 000.00 every month. So you will receive N10, 000.00 during your turn” Yekini advised

“That is great but when will it be my turn”, John asked.

“You can choose it. Only three people have chosen so far”, informed Yekini.

“Okay, I will be the fifth person. That will be in the month of July,” John indicated.

Adaci was utilized in varied ways. Some workers built mud houses covered with zinc roofing sheets. A few ambitious adaci contributors could decide to build their own houses with cement blocks.

“Adaci was also often used to do something substantially concrete”an older contributor advised a recruit to the scheme.

Most workers also committed their wages to the demands of the extended family system. Applications for special loans from employers or from the commercial banks were often made in order to enable workers to settle school fees for brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces or in-laws. A number of times, hospital bills on behalf of these extended relations were settled from wages or from other funds raised by workers.

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“You were thirty minutes late to work this morning. That attitude is unacceptable by this section” Jibril Girigiri was queried by his supervisor, Likita Umar

“My sister – in-law was rushed to the hospital this morning. She has been admitted. The girl is on holiday with us”, replied Jibril.

“Jibril, you know I will not accept such excuses. Please move straight to your machine. I will look into this matter”, stated the supervisor.

Two days later, Jibril was looking desperately for money to settle hospital bill. He lacked concentration at work. As a tractor operation, he was immediately seen to be deficient. Likita Jibril received a serious warning letter for his undesirable attitude to work during the period.

 Jibril thought that his superior was inhumane.

“How could this man start punishing me because I paid attention to my sick sister-to-law.  My supervisor should have been sympathetic,” Jibril thought.

Garba Bala had distributed kolanut to all his friends, colleagues and superior at work as invitation to the forthcoming naming ceremony of his new born son. Bala was a laconic 35 year old motor vehicle driver. He was most popular on the plantations for his excessive sense of humor.

Bala brought some kola nut wrapped in leaves to the Administrative Director, Gabriel Inuwa.

“This is the kola nut for my son’s naming ceremony” Bala informed the Inuwa.

“Not possible, you have already got a name. How many times will you do naming ceremony for yourself?” Inuwa asked.

“Okay, for the child that my second wife recently had”, Bala was emphatic.

“How many wives have you got?” Inuwa persisted

 “Only two” replied Bala with a broad smile.

The naming ceremony of Bala’s young son was occasion for merriment.  Guests started arriving in Bala’s two – room house as early as 5; 00 am. Two goats were slaughtered for the occasion. Gaily dressed women cooked laboriously for visitors.

A week after the naming ceremony, Bala was desperately looking for financial assistance to sustain his family. He claimed to be “broke”.

Generally, wage earners were regularly required to make numerous donations to burial and reburial ceremonies, wedding, launching ceremonies and other social functions.

“You can hardly turn down invitations by close friends” stated a worried factory worker.

“Most often our wives and ourselves are invited to purchase specific dresses for some ceremonies”, stated a middle-age man.

Problems created by workers social commitment were often reflecting in the work situation. Worries, irregular behaviors, inattention, carelessness, social absenteeism are common symptoms of an overburdened worker. Employers were readily accused of exploitation. For industrial workers, saving from their wages were an exception rather than the rule.

“Some people sabi save. I know of a tractor operator who bought a brand new 504 station wagon for taxi”, stated a field worker.

“You know tractor operators get a lot of overtime and most of them no dey get time to enjoy themselves. They work day and night,” replied a listener.

That was what most workers should be prepared to do. Work day and night and save their earning for meaningful investments.

Caring for the extended family at the expense of industrial work had caused a serious conflict between management and workers representatives. Many days had been lost as a result of strike action.

At Pasanako, manual rice harvesters had their own style of merriment on pay days, often at the village square, ethnic dances lasted till midnight. Occurrences were witnessed including innovative traditional activities, buying, selling, lots of laughter and banters. Sorrow would be expelled in place where clowning, ethnic jokes, tricksters and jugglers made the market square frivolous and joyful.

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Mallam Idris Lasi joined the company sixteen years ago as a casual laborer. That meant that his appointment could then be terminated without notice. That was the most unpleasant term of the conditions for casual labor. Idris Lasi was laid off at the end of each season but was normally re-engaged for the following season. He was therefore on and off for six years after which he was converted to seasonal labor. Under the seasonal condition, he was entitled to due notice prior to termination or payment in lieu of notice for termination.  He was also required to give his one month notice prior to disengaging from service.   Most of his colleagues would abandon their work without giving formal notice to their employers.

Idris Lasi was a conscientious and persevering worker. He consistently acquired practical experience on the job.  His job was to move pipes and lines in order to ensure even distribution of water in irrigated rice plantations. Indeed irrigation projects promoted by Federal Government of Nigeria had existed in Tada, Shonga and around River Kampe within the bank of River Niger for decades.

Eventually, Idris Lasi watched the mechanic who repaired pumps and damaged sprinklers. With time, he was able to effect repairs on faulty pumps and sprinklers.  He could not even write his own name.  All report he gave his superiors were verbal.  He pronounced the English names of part of pumps and other equipment like a parrot would repeat captured words.  Lasi developed the skill and proficiency of pipe fixing and pump repair by method of watching highly trained technical people.

After eight years, he had become a permanent employee by which he enjoyed other fringe benefits, housing allowance, vehicle loan, transport and allowance.

Ten years on, Lasi was promoted to the position of a charge hand, the position he held for six years. He was an affective leader of his subordinates. He was cost conscious. Lasi earned N7500 per month.

Idris Lasi had two enormous problems. He sustained a large family – three wives with twelve children. They lived in a highly congested two room apartment. He was the only income earner in the family. Eight of the children were in schools. Lasi had no bank account. He could not save. By the pay day, if he was not paid his wages, he would become extremely nervous. If overtime opportunities were denied him, Lasi would be hysterical and disillusioned. He would persistently curse his supervisors for depriving him of the supplementary income.

Secondly, it did not appear as if Lasi had immediate chances for promotion on his job. His was rated a good artisan by his department management. However, Lasi’s single handicap was his illiteracy. He could train his subordinates to repair irrigation equipment and pumps. But Lasi could not record their timesheet neither could he give written report and assessments.

“If I had adequate savings, I would leave the company’s services”, Lasi said one day to Peter, a fellow field worker.

“But you are good on your job and the company would lose your expertise”, replied Peter

“One white expert from Europe came here and told me that if I was doing my type of job in his country, I should be riding a car by now. But here nobody cares about those of us who did not go to school”, stated Lasi.

“You may be right. Educated people have a high opinion of themselves in this country. I agree with you that there seems to be an absolute neglect of illiterate people, not withstanding their technical ability”, Peter supported.

“But I know illiterate people who are running successful businesses. They have motor vehicles. They have plenty of money in banks and they even do business with the Government and companies,” suggested Lasi.

“That’s true. What most people study in school may not be relevant to their real output in this country. Most people use their qualifications as a passport to high position”, Peter explained.

Idris Lasi became fatalistic about his job. He lacked job mobility. He had the obligation to secure regular income to sustain himself and his large family. However, he nourished the hope that someday, his destiny will change for the better whereby his technical skill would be fairly and adequately remunerated. 

Idris Lasi’s problem was common to rural agricultural projects where certain skilled jobs are performed by artisans lacking in formal education. These illiterate skilled people were often highly reliable and conscientious. They, like most other workers were motivated by good pay, fair personnel policies and promising career opportunities.

Idris Lasi’s son had been sick for two days. He was watching the progress of the child. He expected the child to recover immediately from illness without administration of drugs and intravenous injection which could deplete his meager financial resources.

“But you must take the child to the clinic immediately. You cannot delay treatment hoping that he will recover”, stated a manager, Mr. Abdul Mara who came to visit Lasi at home.

“Oga, if I take him to the clinic, I have to pay. You know I have not got this month’s salary yet”, said Lasi.

“What about your savings. You have been working for over 20 years”, suggested Mara.

“Oga, I have no savings. Look at all of us here. How can I put money aside.   As for me, a month’s salary hardly lasts the whole stretch. Often, I have had to borrow money towards month end in order to cope with family demand.   Refund from my salary takes place on the payday.  The take-home will be diminished.

“Anyway, let me follow you to the clinic. I will foot the bill for you this time” promised Mara.

Rural industrial workers have identical feature and lifestyle – intensive hard work, low pay and large families. Most of them were pursued and haunted by creditors on the [pay day.

The greatest consolation of these workers was the high respect which they enjoyed within their families. They were revered by their wives and children. For these agricultural and industrial workers, family comfort was their ultimate objective, a highly desired end which depended on intensive labour input.  Indeed the nerves cracked and the skin blistered in the process of pursuing the means.  It was significant that these workers were saved the hardship of unemployment.

“You must be enjoying your work”, Idris Lasi was once told by his friend, Lawrence Audu who had been visiting rice fields on temporary research assignment.

“Walahi, na gode Allah”, replied Idris

“What exactly do you enjoy in the work, I mean why are you so committed in spite of your complaint about low pay?” Audu explained.

‘I have worked for about twenty years now. Five years ago I was promoted to charge hand. So there is progress”, confirmed Idris.

“What is the benefit of promotion to you since you cannot read”, Audu asked Idris.

“Even those who can read cannot do my job. I can repair pumps and mix chemicals for spraying in the field. Our present oga asked me so many questions about chemical because he wanted to learn about my job. I explained the use of various types of chemical and mixture of fertilizer  to him.   Specifically, I showed him how to mix these chemicals,” Idris expessed with considerable confidence and he continued, “I am happy because the company promoted me. At least, it is recognition for my good work. The company did not discriminate against me for lack of book knowledge.  My salary has improved as a result of my promotion,” Idris chuckled and continued,  “each morning when I get to work, the workers who report to me greet me with respect. Also I can now discuss with our Ogas about the problems of my section”, Idris emphasized.

“Do you think you will continue to progress on the job, with more promotion?” Audu was inquisitive.

“Mr. Suma Benu, our field manager told me that I cannot sign vouchers. I agree with him. But I have common sense. I know when a chemical is bad. I know when a pump needs attention. I can encourage people to work hard. I know how to handle the lazy ones”, declared Idris with peculiar confidence.

“God’s time is the best. I wish you good luck. Maybe one day, you will get another good reward. You seem to be very interested in the company”, Audu made a positive remark.

“A man must never play with his source of livelihood. If you take your work seriously, God will take you seriously,” Idris declared his value.

Lasi’s story would be recounted in Aluju rice fields for many years since his breed was endangered.   Technical graduates from tertiary institutions were already displacing Lasi and the nature of his expertise. For surplus value, the company might have derived substantial benefits from Lasi and his contemporaries. Younger graduates would work smarter, deploying theoretical and practical skill along with the competence to operate in group exhibiting identical skills.

“Expect greater self control from your team,” Suma Benu once addressed technical entrants in an induction session.

“The old workers were painstaking, exerting long hours and demonstrating total commitment.

“Let us advise you that skill intensity is critical to the success in high quality rice growing and milling.  Your application must be durable to conform with our work culture” the new staff were advised by the chief chemist, Michael Saidu.

At the lower level different forms of work arrangement were installed in the fields and mills. Payment system corresponded with specific work scheduling. Piece rate was determined by quantification of work. The method was restricted to manual rice harvesters whose volume of work would be determined by rows of rice delivered into carts for further processes including hulling and shelling. Mills will complete the processes by separation of bran, de-stoning and polishing.  Operations in fields included fertilizer and herbicide application. Hourly, daily and weekly based work methods also formed employee compensation schemes in the rice plantations.  All these rates were determined at company level collective bargaining exercises. These were base rates over which other company wage and salary structures were determined.

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CHAPTER 5

Meanwhile, the children clustered round Hajiya Rakiya and out came the inevitable sachets of chupa chup and mint popsies. Amid the ill commotion which the impending feast provoked, Suma asked Hajiya what she had done with his wife. At first, it was as if Hajiya Rakiya had not heard the question. She quietly disengaged the children one from another, gathered her shawl round her and putting her delicate hands, sparkling with false jewelry on the arm of the chair, she lifted herself to take her departure.

“So my little ones are fine. Well then, I can go home and sleep soundly,” she said.

Suma too got up and tried again to address her visitor as she walked towards the door.

‘Hajiya, your daughter left the house this morning. You can’t go without telling me where she is.”

“What kind of man asks this question? He is either a rascal or an idiot. I give you my innocent child to look after. You shout at her. You push her up and down. You ill – treat her everyday. Now you ask me where she is. Why don’t you go to the police? Do you know how old that child is? Twenty seven years. Just twenty seven years. And you have given her all the trouble of her life you wicked man. Why does a man send his soul flying about. Your real soul is not resident in you. What do you want really? Tell me what you want,” Hajiya Rakiya screamed at her in-law.

Indeed Hajiya Rakiya was a woman of wide – ranging emotional powers. Even trivial events took on a mythical size in her large and abounding heart. And she would laugh, or cry or fly into rage at a mere nothing. Here lay the secret of a charming character in whose company nothing could be boring or humdrum. Perhaps she cheapened the quarrel in the family by dramatizing it but she was sure that in Suma she was facing a traitor to the family whose rebellion must be put down.

Indeed, Hajiya Rakiya exerted enormous influence on Suma Benu’s family.  As Saratu grew in maturity and beauty, Hajiya insisted that she must be hardworking, industrious and self reliant.  Saratu was expected to lay solid foundation for the development of her children

Saratu was not available in Aluju. She had in fact returned to the village with Suma’s uncle.  When a man was incapable of caring for his wife, the extended family would recall her, and the ancestor must intervene.

Suma Benu, as a protagonist was in battle with so many fronts, his belligerent boss, the extended family especially his sick mother and the deteriorating image of the rice plantations.

While Suma Benu planned a trip to his village in Osimapa to reconcile with his wife, the rumours of strike action by the workers was spreading like wide fire on one cool Wednesday evening.  Suma was amazed. There had been no awareness of pending contentious industrial dispute. The strike action was therefore spontaneous without defined immediate cause. The trip to Osimapa was therefore shelved as Suma Benu would be required to sit on an emerging strike committee that would resolve the conflict. For many years, the rice plantations plunged into slumber as the whirlwind of change occurred globally. Indeed, dramatic events defined as globalization continued to shake the business world. Skills had changed rapidly along with the disappearance of jobs. Employees needed to reinvent themselves and integrate their knowledge into new jobs.

The pending strike action was indeed instigated by veteran Trade Unionists who were visiting plantations in Aluju to organize workers into an agricultural union.“ Suma Benu was astounded by the unexpected presence of the visitors who established an apparent immediate direct contact with workers’ representatives on the mill floor. “But why can’t your workers form a union to fight for improved conditions of service for the members”, was the continuous rhetoric statement by Mr. Louis Papa, a veteran radical trade unionist whose notoriety was established in workers’ and management circles across the country.  His presence was already being felt in the plantations.  

Indeed trade union growth had been slow on the rice plantations due to non recognition of workers collectivization by management. New employees were compelled to accept job offer on condition that they would not unionize.  Louis Papa and his collaborators would alter the arrangement by demanding for closed shop whereby a new employee was compelled to register as a trade union member.  

“Our representatives have been trying to meet the management but it is difficult. Some members are afraid of losing their jobs. The management does not want workers  to organize into a trade union”, suggested Fredrick Ture, a plantation worker who had been reading about Trade Unionism from books and newspapers but who had never actually organized workers

The Estate workers had been wanting to exercise their fundamental human right to associate freely by forming a union but the management had threatened to refuse recognition to the union whenever it was formed.

‘But the management cannot deny you recognition”, Louis Papa stated emphatically.

“They tell us that our union must first prove that it is well represented in all the company’s departments and that majority of the workers support our effort,” Abdullai Susu, an aggressive operator in the mill tried to explain. Susu had been struggling with a few workers to ensure that the formation of the union was successful. Abdullahi Susu was ambitions and determined to achieve fast career progress or to secure a key position in the proposed union hierarchy.

“Your employers cannot withhold recognition indefinitely since judicial order could prevail on the company to accord you recognition as a registered union” Mr. Dodi, a visiting unionist from Lagos declared.

“The ministry of  Employment, Labour and Productivity had intervened by speaking to management on several occasions. The management only avoided pending judicial order by according recognition two months ago,” Abdullahi Susu tried to explain.

“However the Registrar of Trade Unions threatened to withdraw the union’s certificate of registration for our inability to clarify issues relating to the formation of executive committee and some annual accounts matters,” Susu further clarified.

“That is precisely why we are visiting the plantations.  I am the general secretary of several trade unions like yours. I am based in Lagos. You must have been hearing about my name. Let me introduce Mr. Alfred Etuk to you. He is the Treasurer in my office. Let us strike an agreement so that your union can be affiliated to the Nigeria Trade Union Congress. We will resolve your entire teething problem since you have a difficult employer”, stated Louis Papa.

Indeed Louis papa had been organizing trade union in Nigeria for over 30 years. He proclaimed himself a hardcore comrade.

“The only way to stop the exploitation of workers by capitalist employers is for the workers to organize into a trade union in order to struggle for their right”, the old unionist explained.

Louis Papa, about 60 years old and veteran unionist was very charismatic. He gave a sense of direction to all the unions he had continuously controlled by demonstration of expertise on negotiating tables.   He would incite workers to strike cautioning on violence but also abandoning strike scenes. His tactic was to prolong the action and frustrate management to succumb.

Louis Papa abruptly rushed back to Abuja to take up the unionization of rice plantation workers with the Registrar of Trade Unions. He prevailed on the Registrar and the union’s certificate was subsequently released. Comrade Papa was appointed as the general secretary of the Union of Rice Plantation and Mills. The management of the plantations expressed dismay at the appointment of Comrade Papa because he was considered notorious on the negotiation table.

The pending strike planned to attract the attention of management to development in workers’ collectivization was aborted through early reaction by management.

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CHAPTER 6

Early the following morning, Suma Benu proceeded to his village in Osimapa to join his wife and other relations in his primordial community.  Elders in the village were dismayed about the news that Suma devoted little attention and care for his wife.  He might be spending money to cater for the children and their mother but he was reported to have consistently ignored the emotional comfort of his wife.  The problem was not exactly reported to the family but people lived with rapid spread of bad news in communities.

Following salutations, exchange of pleasantries, Suma assured his relations in the compound.

“Wherever you see me, accept me,”he declared.   Neither Suman’s father, old Ishiaku nor his mother, Iyedaku could be possessive of their son during a visit to the village. Suma belonged to everybody in the compound.   Each person exercised peculiar claim on him.

Suma visited her sick mother in her room and assessed her health condition which appeared to have improved as demonstrated by the agility with which the old woman embraced her son. Thereafter Suma was invited by the elders of the compound for some dialogue.

Prolonged salutations ensued, followed by enquiries about life in Aluju, work ordeals, friends and general curiosities about the country as a whole.   Suma’s responded to enquiries with tolerance while pleading for people’s understanding and apologizing profusely for being out of touch with the community.

As soon as Suma found a locally produced wooden chair, he sat comfortably.  Women and young girls in the compound surrounded their visitor with lavish entertainment.  He was presented with a cup of fresh cool water, sourced from the valley springs, the greatest natural gift to the people of this mountainous settlement.  Food would follow but Suma could not influence choice of menu.

“We cannot give what we don’t eat,” Mama Naratu, an aunt to Suma declared with tinge of humour.  Mama Naratu had earlier visited Suma’s family in Aluju.

“He will eat the food he grew up on,” another curious unidentified woman added. 

Ishaku Benu had earlier summoned male and female elders of the compound to a meeting.

“Good evening, my fathers, mothers, aunts, sisters and brothers. I must respect the tradition and listen to all of you. My uncle visited us in my work place and invited me home to see all of you,” declared Suma

“Suma, it is not your fault, you invited us to request the hand of this girl for you,” Sewugha, Suma’s paternal uncle started as he pointed to Saratu who was seated beside her husband.  The old man continued “most people in the village obliged you by trooping to where you worked in Aluju. We were on our knees while the girl was handed over to you. Then we prayed to God to give both of you and your children abundance in life. Now we hear that you work in rice plantations from morning till night without any thought for your wife, you hardly talk to her, you do not touch her, what sort of behaviour is that,?” Sewugha enquired with enormous curiosity.

“I did not really report my husband, my step mother noticed the situation and reported to my husband’s uncle who decided to visit Aluju and he secretly traveled with me to Osimapa,” Saratu quickly interjected with palpitation.

“But did any bad thing happen to you in the house. Were you going through horrible and frightening dreams, did your husband beat you, was he not leaving money for you to care of yourself and the children?” Ndegi, an older man reputed for settling disputes in the compound intervened.

While Sarutu cleared her throat in reply she was interrupted by a chorus of laughter from eavesdropping teenage girls.

“You these spoiled village girls. This is what you will giggle at. Let us listen to Saratu. You may have much to learn from her,” commented Nna Rabi,? an old traditional midwife.  

Saratu needed to understand the question clearly.

“We also hear that sometime Suma will not eat his wife’s food. And Suma is not a drunkard” Sewugha interjected.

“The husband and wife do not really talk much to each other, at least when they sit in the lounge.  Often, Suma, whenever he is at home, he will be seen reading newspapers or watching television, he does one thing or the other around the house,” Mama Naratu stated

“Now let us listen again to Saratu, the wife” directed old Ishaku Benu, Suma’s father.  With much impatience, the old man continued, “if work needs all our body, would I have married two wives,” Ishaku Benu was visibly angry, “we have the right to take away your wife from you so that you can attend to your work. Two persons, in a row must not slump into the rubbish dump, the first will proclaim his ordeal while the second will take caution, if you will kill yourself with day and night work, we have to save your wife from anxiety, loneliness and sickness.” Ishaku Benu concluded without giving Saratu the opportunity to talk further.

"Suma, you must allow your beautiful wife to comfort you always. She complains that she does not enjoy close love, real touch and soft words from you. She says you are always talking to yourself about work,” Ishaku Benu further explained.

Isaku Benu, a tall, slim and agile man was about 75 years old. He was a dedicated plantation farmer, growing multiple fruits, bananas, pineapples, papaya, coconuts and tending numerous wild forests of tall palm trees. Around his house were calico overalls, other costumes and high boots worn during harvesting of thorny pineapples. There were also palm front twines for ascending tall palm trees, a special skill that was difficult to pass onto the younger generation of urban dwellers.  Ishiaku Benu’s form of instruments included sharp machetes, knives, sickles, curved blades, wooden rods of varied length. The farmer had two wives and nine surviving children.  Suma Benu was the second son.

“We are going into the heart of the matter.  I thank you father, my uncle, the elders, men and women. I will talk to all of you about the real problem. When we were young, we were told that the night has ears, whatever we say this night may become hearsay. Saratu has no problem. I will follow your own example in the village to love her, doing it exactly as men do it in this village, come home early, eat all her meals, talk to her gently and touch her”  Suma declared with remorse.  The crowd burst into laughter as Suma concluded his speech.

“You, Saratu, do not be shy of your husband, Do what modern ladies do. Cook good food for him and do more, you know better,“ Mama Naratu advised Saratu.   The evening was well spent in the compound and in the village. 

The following morning was cool as the village wore serene atmosphere.  However Osimapa was alive again, most people exchanged early morning salutations, enquiring about health, commenting about the weather and debating prospects of proceeding to farms early. Downpour of rain and appearance of heavy cloud would delay departure to the farms.

Suma Benu and Saratu were already on their way to Aluju. The visit to Osimapa was short and rather interesting for Suma and his wife in spite of lack of planning.  Saratu was optimistic that Suma’s individualistic lifestyle would be reasonably compatible with her expectations provided her husband did not persist in overzealous career pursuit.

There was no doubt that career ambition was healthy for young and highly mobile people.  Professionals pursue opportunities by method of bull fight, often fairly forceful through clandestine maneuvers.  Nonetheless family interests and values would require scrupulous and consistent protection.

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  CHAPTER 7

In accordance with standard practice, David Faya, the factory supervisor undertook an inspection of all machinists operating on lathes. He particularly affronted Moses Abara who crouched over his lathe machine. On intensive inspection of Abara’s finished products, the supervisor was astonished at the quantity of rejects generated by Abara.

Subsequently events unfolded in on extra-ordinarily rapid succession. Moses received an immediate suspension order from his supervisor followed by a written confirmation of the disciplinary, action.

Other machinists on the lathes, in sympathy with their colleague made a swift attempt to intervene to forestall the suspension. Their action was abortive. Verbal confrontation ensued between Moses Abara and his supervisor, David Faya.

The shop steward Saliu Funde was immediately attracted to the scene. His attempt to settle the argument was aggressively rebuffed by David Faya. Unfolding scenarios included plant Unions dramatic reaction in defense of their member known to be consistently diligent but subjected to agonizing family problems. The grievance was further compounded by other related incidents which apparently reinforced workers resolve to organize a strike action. Issues in dispute were rendered elastic to contain existing unresolved matters in the prevailing collective bargaining and negotiation exercise in the company.

Mustapha Dauda had been the Human Resource Manager of Global cereals Limited for about five years.  He had grown on the managerial ladder with the company and had benefited from nine months training programme in a Management College in United Kingdom.  On return to the company, Mustapha worked briefly in salary administration and subsequently in the training unit.  He had been Personnel manager for six months.  Though Mustapha maintained cordial relationship with the labour union , he was considered to  be excessively inclined toward managerial thinking.  He had consistently argued that his orientation was not based on the concept of the piper dictating the ton as alleged by the union member but rather based on his training on strategic human resource management and its implication for competition.

“You cannot call your members on strike since you have not declared a trade dispute. Disciplinary action by management against your member does not provide you with sufficient reason to embark on  what seems to be wild cat strike” Mustapha patiently explained to Funde.

 “The Union in the branch has forwarded other grievances to management.  You are aware that the issues have neither been discussed nor resolved,” Funde suggested.

Mustapha made some effort to recollect some collective bargaining matters that had been outstanding since management formally recognized the union.

“Negotiation is in progress” he indicated

Analysing trade disputes in the civil service and industries often created obstacles in socio-economic context in Nigeria.  A number of conflicts in the work environment could not be classified as industrial disputes.  It had been observed that disputes procedures could be circumvented in view of the requirement to secure the support of the Minister of Employment for conciliation services.  The method of proclaiming an intention to undertake warning strike and eventually implementing the action would breach appropriate provisions of the Trade Disputes Act.

Organization of general strikes in Nigeria by main umbrella unions has seldom been aligned to the philosophy and definition of trade dispute.   Industrial and service members of umbrella unions would be compelled to withdraw labour from their employer without formal declaration of trade disputes.  Often picketing would be utilized as instrument for coercing members to comply with directive on work stoppage.  Disputes that could otherwise be classified as political would acquire industrial connotation.

At the factory level union, shop stewards seldom understood the implications of illegal and unconstitutional strikes.  It is useful to clarify that an unconstitutional strike breaches procedural agreement between management and the workers’ union while an illegal strike is often wild cat adducing reasons that are unrelated with the operations of the employer.  Work stoppage arising from intra union conflict would be an illegal strike action.

Mustapha Dauda was determined to nip the impending strike action in the bud.  It was not justifiable for employees to embark on strike action for the reason that a member of the union had been disciplined by a supervisor.  Industrial action based on this premise would constitute interference in the management of the company.  Enlarging the scope of adduced reasons for the dispute by imputing outstanding unresolved matters in the collective agreement gave the impression that the union was insincere and disruptive.

Mustapha consulted Ando Kajere on immediate cause of the grievance, poor output by Moses Abara, the suspension letter issued to him on the advice of his supervisor, David Faya, the ensuing with representatives of the union and threat of a strike action.

“We cannot condone the action of the present executives of the union who use whim and caprices to instigate frequent stoppage,” Ando was furious.

“ Saliu Funde and other union leaders also want management to settle unresolved matters at the suspension of the negotiation but----

“Mustapha, I am not entertaining that type of talk, let them not prevent anybody from working, I do not feel the union enjoys support for a strike action” Ando could not contain his anger.

Paul Duro, the factory manger, Mallam Paro and Suma Benu had joined the discussion.

“We are beginning to see reluctance of some workers to take instruction from their supervisors,” Duro informed Ando who stared bemused

“Some union executives seem to be wandering around the fields,” Paro insinuated.

“Gentlemen, we cannot run our fields and factory operations in a lackadaisical manner,” Ando boomed and continued,”workers must be more committed,” he uttered with tone of frustration.

CHAPTER 8

Suma Benu remembered his early childhood at Osimapa.  The environment was mountainous, bordering the River Niger at the Confluence point.  Oshimapa and the immediate communities spoke Oworo language.  The ethnic group had sustained its unique identity for centuries. The River Niger created the natural boundary between Oworo  and Igbira (KotonKarfe) in the North. In other hemispheres, Oworo had been sharing boundaries with Kakanda, Lokoja, Ebira and Bunu.

One of the greatest benefits enjoyed by Oworo communities was early Western education facilitated by the urge of British explorers to settle in Lokoja during 1860.  Indeed Western explorers had been in contact with the confluence area since 1830’s.  Agbaja plateau, situated in Oworo land provided the explorers with numerous advantages including the existence of near temperate climate throughout the year and availability of spring water.   In addition varieties of fruits grew widely in the adjacent valley.  The explorers built mud houses by the edge of the mountain in Agbaja.  In findings during 2009, a group of journalists confirmed that the Anglican All Saints’ Church in Agbaja was built in 1912.  It was also ascertained by the journalists that the first Primary School in Oworo was built in Agbaja in 1920.  Western enlightenment  and literacy were introduced to Oworo communities during the early period.

Suma Benu recollected the story of the King of Osimapa who was a zealot in the spread of Western education. Osimapa communities were already exposed to European influence.  A public school had already opened in Osimapa.  The King was under colonial pressure to encourage families to enrol children and wards in the school.  Some families complied while others out rightly disobeyed.

Ako had enrolled all his own children who had attained school age.  Enrolment directive must be enforced.

The king insisted that all families in Osimapa must show representation in the newly established school in the community.  He directed a father must enrol at least one child who has attained school age.         

The Ako of Osimapa, the great king of his domain was six foot tall, slender and strong. At the age of 35 years the Ako was a despotic ruler.

His domain comprised Osimapa, Ilahere, Opomi, Agadagba and other settlements in the valley of the mountainous area. Few traditional titled holders conferred with King in his palace. Petu, Ndegi, Ilujumika and Badero were the King’s loyalists. He consulted them randomly, individually and collectively.  The Ako upheld the traditional religion but he was also a strong Muslim.   He had a firm grip on his people. The Ako decreed punishment for men who ignored the newly introduced white man’s education.   

The Ako of Osimapa maintained a small mud hut which he used as prison.  The hut had capacity for five people.  The king could sentence an offender to fourteen days in jail to be spent in the hut.  Minor offences attracted manual labour requiring the transgressor to clean areas of the village by weeding.  Often men were seen mopping up grasses in various locations in the village.

Other punitive measures included banishment, market parades and penitence on the Ako’s numerous farms. Female offenders drew water from valleys and streams for the benefit of titled holders. Ako of Osimapa’s reign was supreme but based on principle of instilling discipline, eliminating evil concurrencies, vice, greed, avarice and rampant malpractices in communities. 

The Ako Osimapa sent for Bajemi, the famous farmer, hunter and warrior.  The King and instructed the old man to send his seven male children aged between four and eight years to school in the new year.

“Osipo Okoigi, “ Bajemi prostrated and praised the king.  Subjects used the appellation for their King.  It would translate into, “if you remove the bark of a tree you will meet the bare trunk.” Bajemi expressed anxiety over the king’s instruction and proceeded to explain his position,

“A hunter cannot encounter a hyena and shoot the air” Bayemi declared in firm voice

“When I send all my young male children to idle around all day, who cultivates the heaps, who weeds, who reaps the crop and what will l

eat? I should die because we have entered the age when children must abandon farms. My ancestors will not forgive me.

“I have given you instructions, I will see what happens,” the king reaffirmed.

“Osipo Okoigi, If your majesty instructs me to put my finger in fire,  will I do that at my age?, I must act wisely,” Bajemi staggered away.

Ako of Osimapa summoned his titled holders to the palace.  Petu, Ndegi, Ilujumika and Badero were all present.  Some other persons were also in attendance since the town crier had alerted the community about a crucial meeting the previous night.

The king instructed all the titled holders to enroll their male children in school.  He added that daughters must benefit too.  The titled chiefs looked askance, staring at each other rather bewildered.

“This new order will bring famine to this land,” decried Petu

“Our children will become lazy and disobedient,” Ilujumika added

“Except you carry me dead to the school I have nobody to contribute,” Badero was adamant.

Ndegi was stunned and pensive while he placed his two palms on his cheeks.  He envisaged enormous trouble with Ako who was uncompromising on many issues.

Petu was a strong stout titled holder. He was the main custodian of the culture in the community.  Conservative and rather dogmatic on traditional matters, Petu was the king’s confidant.  Indeed the king relied on Petu’s judgment and once the two agreed on an issue, the king would enforce the order arising from it.  Most subjects maintained the traditional concept that the king was  infallible.   Petu would not tow the line of the King on the current order

 Petu was 63 years old. All his children were on the farm.  He believed none of his children had expressed desire to attend school.   Five of the children were aged 4 to 9 years.

Ikusemoro, a 50 year old manual tailor was a cynic. He had two male children, they were twins, Hassan and Hussein, aged six years.  Kusemoro had taught the art of dress making to the chldren.  The twins were highly dexterous on cutting traditional clothing materials and sewing to fit customers.  Most of the time Hassan and Hussein worked on calico materials which they cut and sewed into dresses for home use and also for customers who were mainly hunters and farmers. It was inconceivable to Ikusemoro that his twins would abandon sewing for school.

“I have been sewing all my life and these children have already mastered the trade.   The king cannot make me do the wrong thing,” lamented Ikusemoro

Ilujumika was tall, outspoken and arrogant. He did not always sit in court with the king but frequented the palace.   When the school issue was raised, llujumika exclaimed.

“Oh my ancestors save the king who has gone astray,” Ilujumika whispered and declared while facing the king, “Osipo Okoigi, we must preserve the sanctity of this land, we cannot throw our children into the wilderness and leave our farms for birds, rodents and other predators.”

“Ilujumika, there was no school when you were growing up, now the gates are open for your children,” the king advised.

“My, children will not enter those gates,” llujumika was obstinate. Ako of Osimapa was infuriated by Ilujumika’s open confrontation.  The King commanded his guards to raid other settlements and villages for compulsory enrolment of children, boys and girls into the school.  

Osimapa, the small mountain village was rather shaken by the turn of events.  Hitherto the community existed as a peaceful traditional society.  Suma Benu was born there to a gentle couple Benu Iyorisase and his wife Wonibare.  Men preoccupied themselves with subsistence farming while women assisted their husbands during harvests.  Young and adolescent boys supported their fathers and guardians in all farm operations until they attained full adulthood when they married and settled independently.  Suma Benu grew up in the community but at  his birth, parents had started voluntarily to support their children and wards in school.  Suma Benu attended the only school in the community.  Subsequently he traveled to the United States of America for long term study.  Suma was pondering on what might have happened to the community in the early days.

Ako of Osimapa observed that he was gradually losing the control of the traditional titled holders who had been consistently loyal to him.  The king had already demonstrated exemplary behavior.  He had enrolled seven of his own children in the school, four boys and three girls.

Ako of Osimapa, the king of kings made frantic attempt to secure wide support on school enrolment.  He instructed the town crier to issue stern warning to his subjects to comply with his order by sending children to school with emphasis on age range.  All children between the ages of six and fifteen years must be enrolled in the village school without further delay.

“There would be no sacred cow on this order,” the king insisted while he wondered about the behaviour of the titled holders.  “People who inhabit the palace on long duration dine with the King, my titled holders are taking advantage of the privilege.  I have to assert my authority,” the king affirmed.

 A highly respected hunter in the community, Ikubanje implored the king to grant him time to reassess the capacity of his family to survive without his two sons engaging in farm work. The King realized the strength and charisma of Ikubanje in the ommunity.

Ikubanje, heavily built man was indeed famous in the community. His reputation based on successful hunting escapades.  Particlarly he was feared for his ability to wade off nocturnal attacks in the jungle.

“Ikubanje, I spoke to you several times on this matter, you have no intention of complying with the order,” the king observed and abruptly instructed the Dongari (the King’s guard) to detain Ikubanje in the mud cell referred to by members of the community as  “ïledu” for  the reason that the room was always in permanent darkness.

 Ikubanje repeated his appeal for time extension but the king would not change his mind.

“Cell is  not fire, if your majesty cast me into fire, my ashes will haunt you.” Ikubanje demonstrated his characteristic for boasting even as he stood the risk of spending many nights in the claustrophobic cell.

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  Tongues wagged as young men lamented on the fate of their hero, Ikubanje,.

School enrolment was the springboard for Ako’s atrocities.  The strange news of Ikubanje’s incarceration was spreading rapidly throughout communities, Ilahere, Opomi, Oduka, Okegbo, Ilegboka and Alehin as a warning on pending danger that might disturb their peaceful life.

‘’What spell has the school authority cast on the king that induced him to indulge in the disgrace of his reputable subjects,” Saidu Balema wondered aloud

After about one hour, with much curiosity, the crowd in the palace dispersed and people drifted toward the cell to gaze at Ikubanje  sweating and staring aimlessly through the narrow window.  At this stage the Dorgari unlocked the key, throwing the door open but leaving the Iron Gate bolted.   Powerful Ikubanje was in distress, living with humiliation in a claustrophobic cell in front of people who recognized his social status.

“Don’t underestimate Ako whose ancestors originated from far beyond in the high heaven.  I know that great danger lies ahead but I have no choice but to confront the King headlong on this matter,” Badero confided in his wife, Balkisu.

Indeed Badero expected that Ako would inflict the most inhuman treatment on him.

“We do not wish to leave this compound for somebody else who will reap the fruit of our labour. We have two children, one male and one female who must attend this school. Let us cooperate with the king, we will not die,” Balkisu advised her husband, She was worried about the safety and health of her devoted husband, ‘’

Ako of Osimapa summoned two titled holders  Ilujumika and Badero to the palace.  They had not complied with the king’s order.

“You are entering the cell today,” the king scowled at the two men and continued “Dongari, let them join Ikubanje in the cell.” He commanded.

“You all understand the message I have passed through the town crier,” the king continued in furious mood.  Other titled holders from neighbouring communities who were visiting the palace prostrated to appease the king. Praise singers hailed Ako Osimapa’s by chanting his Oriki.  The talking drum was used in profusion for the king’s   commendation.  The king enjoyed the praise but he was undaunted.

The curious and anxious crowd built up to watch important community leaders in the cell.  The king contemplated banishment for the incarcerated notable people in the mud cell.

“These are people I have trusted in the community and the same persons flaunting my authority with impunity,” the king was visibly angry.

In the community, banishment had been meted out to people who had committed gross misconduct or outright sacrilege.

Young men in the community were restive as a result of the king’s unilateral action on school enrolment. Dissent was also noticed from the women cultural group in Osimapa. Indeed Ojorunkun, the spiritual leader of Pankasi mobilized her members for purpose of dialoguing with the King on the detention of three community leaders as well as sensitizing Ako about the  horrifying news that the detainees would be banished from the community.

Indeed other subjects in Osimapa reacted differently. Young people went into voluntary exile. A twenty one year old Orunda and his seventeen year old brother Lonse, sons of Aseni, the village blacksmith,  sneaked out of Osimapa during a breezing night, traveling through high forests within Ikoro Emu traversing the two valleys and accessing Bunu land by early morning.  The young people proceeded to South West of Nigeria where they hoped they would enjoy the advantage of taking  liberal decisions about their own future.

 ‘’I have no obligation to obey the king’s order, ‘’  Bajemi a reputable farmer in Osimapa confided in his friend, Kabinu.  Bajemi had three adolescent sons.

“This king is high handed.   He may banish you with some of your kith and kin,” Kabinu advised

“The king knows that he cannot banish a hunter of Ikubanje’s status from this community without extreme revenge from our ancestors, The village and indeed the community must be defended, We are armed to do that at all times,” Bajemi was indignant

,Ako, king of Osimapa, indeed, controlled the children of most widows in his extended family; the girls were married according to the king’s wish. Young boys worked in the king’s farms until they gained full manhood, married, raised a family and thereby enjoyed independence.  The king had consistently drafted the orphans into the school.

“Osipo Okoigi, your subjects, my two male children, under my care have all vanished. I cannot tell their where about,” Aseni informed the king.  Aseni was a tall and slim 63 year old man who was conscientious in farm work while he also worked at home in the evening as black smith.

‘’Aseni, you have my empathy,” the king nodded in pensive mood, analyzing the true meaning of the name.

 “Aseni banidaro,” the king understood that the name signified that the same person who inflicts mischief on another person sympathizes with his victim.

The king stated, ”Aseni, you do not possess the character implied by your name”

“My children who disappeared were planning to marry beautiful girls in this village, they could not understand how they will go and assemble in the same rooms with the girls, receiving same instructions from strange people” Aseni lamented.

‘’Aseni, I give you seven days to produce these children. You will be responsible for your actions. You can now disappear from sight,” the king was aggressive.

Osimapa community was by now tense.  Young men were planning to confront the king with all the courage that they could summon.

Ako, king of Osimapa was not really born and reared within the communities. His parents had voluntarily migrated to escape similar authoritarian rule.

Ako’s father Kusika married Tingbale and Temole at three years interval. They were both lankly beautiful women. Kusika became an object of envy. The ruling king Medaiyese was not comfortable to have Kusika as his immediate successor. The King made subterranean attempts to throw Kusika and his lineage into oblivion.  Kusika moved his two wives into unknown distant destinations where he raised a large family. Temole was Ako’s mother. Kusika’s two wives had eleven children between them six men and 5 women.  Tingbale eventually died.  Kusika eventually returned to Osimapa with Temole, along with some of his children including twenty six year old Ako, who by providence succeeded Medaiyese.  During his father’s self exile, Ako witnessed royalty elsewhere, in Nupe and Hausa land. He would inject dignity and grace into royalty. Justice and fairly play would be instituted and subjects were required to revere and obey authority. Ako, the king of Osimapa enjoyed controversy, especially on issues he attached greatest value, He had identified some benefits in education that was different from the traditional pattern and he would sacrifice his subjects for the cause.

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‘’The Pankasi female group, headed by their spiritual, Ojorunkun sent an emissary to the King requested for urgent audience with the king.  It was unusual request by the women.  The king sent for Petu for purpose of fixing the day and time for the meeting.  Meanwhile Ilujumika, Badero and Kubanje were still detained in the mud hut cell.  Nonetheless the meeting was fixed for10:00am the following day. 

As s the sun rose the following morning, branches of trees scattered, the village was still but full of anxiety, the dry leaves dropped randomly responding to the gentle wind.   The king’s palace was decorated in black and white calico cloth.  On the walls of the palace were hung leather sheaths and arrows as reminiscences of old warring days. 

Ojorunkun, a lanky, beautiful, 50 year old woman maintained a shrine. About fifty women were adherents and they owed loyalty to Ojorunkun and the goddess.  Men had no role to play whatsoever except as observers during processions and ceremonial sessions. The shrine supported peace in the community; there were four female priestesses, , Merobe and Membeya.  Ojorunkun and her priestesses were powerful women, highly influential in the communities. Ojorunkun was not married but the priestesses had families. These women who worshipped the goddess in the shrine were domineering. They stood up gaunt, confident and talked straight unto other peoples eyes. Priestesses and adherents were recruited from communities in Osimapa and the neighbourhood.

Ojorukun was the head of the delegation from the shrine. The team made up by only women appeared sober thereby depicting the mood of  the community during the early morning.  The king was obliged to have granted the women’s request to engage in dialogue because Ojorunkun had always honoured all major invitations by Ako, king of Osimapa.

Preceded by Sewughabu, who usually forewarned the appearance of the king by scudding the gong and pronouncing eulogies for the royalty, the Ako of Osimapa was resplendently attired as he chose his steps majestically to sit on his throne.  All traditional titled holders were already seated.

“The king salutes you all, Ojorunkun and the priestesses as you represent the goddess” Sewughabu announced.

“Bagodoji” the women bowed and saluted the Ako in unison.

The king returned the salutation.

“Bogodoji, our king” Ojorunkun saluted and continued “we have come to plead with the king to douse the tension in our communities. We cannot sit back and see our respected titled holders thrown into the dark room because they objected to your order compelling them to withdraw their children from the farm.  We implore your majesty to tread with caution. We are worried since we foresee calamity,” Ojorunkun was emphatic.

All the women heaved a sigh in support of their head of delegation, Ojorunkun.

Ako wondered why Ojorunkun had developed into such a powerful alternative authority in the kingdom.  Although the relationship between Ojorunkun and Ako had been most cordial, the king was stupefied that the head of the shrine had the temerity to confront him verbally on an issue that he assessed to be of enormous benefit to the people of Osimapa. 

Ako of Osimapa pondered and declared:

“Too many women are under the spell of your shrine and the goddess.  The women in the shrine are no longer subservient to their husband. We can not sit back and watch our daughters and housewives hypnotized and placed in a state of trance form day to day.  We must return the women to their matrimonial homes,‘’ the king rebuked the shrine and issued a forthright instruction.

‘’I will consult the goddess,” Ogorunkun appeared rather remorseful and she assured the king.         

Indeed Ojorunkun’s admonition fell on deaf ears; rather the opprobrium of the king was visited on the spiritual queen. Was the king of Osimapa ignorant of feminine mystique or was he prejudiced against women thereby undermining Ojorunkun’s influence in the community?

The dialogue between Ako of  Osimapa and Ojorunkun along with the representatives of the goddess collapsed.  Ojorunkun proceeded to consult with the goddess in the shrine.  Thereafter Ojorunkun had premonition of death, the disappearance of the goddess and the irreversible calamity that would befall Osimapa.

Three weaks after the encounter with Ako ofOsimapa the head of the shrine Ojorunkun died in her sleep. The shrine was in contrition. The news of the sudden demise of the head of the shrine had spread like harmattan fire. The priestesses and the women in the shrine were in disarray as tears poured freely down their faces.

‘’Ojorunkun, the representative of the goddess on earth,“ Tingbale lamented a woman

‘’Ojorunkun has gone to the market in the other world”  another woman interpreted the deceased woman’s name

‘’Ojorunkun, the mother of mothers,” a priestess screamed

All adherents sang praises of Ojorunkun while they continued to swear by the names of numerous shrines. Mourning, funeral rites, wake keeping, grotesque celebration of life continued on daily basis

“The king pursued the shrine and dared the goddess,” a prietess surmised

The younger priestesses and adherents believed that they grew up on Ojorunkun,s breast milk.

‘’We sucked Ojorunkun’s breast, she did not deny us anything,” an adherent affirmed.

The period of mourning witnessed sinister apparitions; frightening omens of pending social upheaval in the community.  The most outrageous occurrence was the mysterious disappearance of the symbol of the goddess.  The incident sent some hysteria into the spine of bewildered priestesses and worshippers.  The absence of the unifying force of the goddess and perceived implication created a sense of foreboding amongst the distressed women.  

‘’We must organize to prevail on the king to release Ikubanje, how can a traditional titled holder stay in this type of cell that is reserved for petty  thieves” Garuba Kusemoro lamented.

 Ako, king of Osimapa was already reading the mood of the community; indeed men in the  age group 17-30 years were surreptitiously mobilizing to stage a  protest before the king.  In spite of the awareness that Aku of Osimapa was predictable with penchant for revenge and draconian reprisal against subjects who confronted his authority the young men were undaunted. The generation had never witnessed liberal rule since the history of the community was replete with ruthlessness of kings.  Word of mouth left stories of previous kings who banished recalcitrant subjects into slavery.   Aku, the king of Osimapa was living in history, in complete dissonance with his subjects.  Ikubanje, the charismatic hunter was forcefully dragged into a small prison cell, with a tiny window which was shut almost permanently barn caved.

 The young men sought the cooperation of radical older men in the community to confront the king of Osimapa. The first step taken by groups of men in different compounds was to demonstrate with audacity high degree of civil disobedience.  These groups of men walked in front of the palace without bowing in reverence to the king who would be seated in council. Furious, the king exclaimed:

“Are these men indigenes of this land” and he boomed, “all Dogaris must drag these men before me”

The group proceeded to force the gate of the cell open from where  Kubanje, Ilujumika and Badero were immediately released from captivity.

The serene community was plunged into utter commotion whereby the fiendish youth and their collaborators thronged the palace, insisting on being granted audience by the king.  The astonished paramount ruler had never imagined the nature of assault on the authority of king.

Ako of Osimapa would not tolerate intransigence and he considered it inconceivable that he would entertain dialogue with a mob.

The days of the king were numbered as events unfolded rapidly.  The aggrieved groups of men and the liberated titled holders devised a new stratagem. The mood of the groups suddenly deteriorated into complete repudiation of the king’s authority. Ako of Osimapa must be deposed. The belligerent groups strengthened their ranks, besieged the palce and forcefully abducted the king to an unknown destination.  While it was the end  of  tyranny, Ako survived his ordeal but abdicated the throne.  He pursued his private life in a different community outside his homeland for about thirty years.

CHAPTER 9

Gloria Bejide, five and a half foot, svelte and fresh dark skinny lady of about 47 years wore serious countenance, sort of self defence against ambitious men who would readily take advantage of her readily available warmth and kindness. She had always lived in Lagos changing residence between the two sides of Ibadan road in Ketu. Gloria’s personality and feminine psyche prepared her job initially as an executive secretary in Global Cereals Ltd. The highly committed lady had responsibilities for correspondence, management of the chief executive tenure whenever the boss was visiting Lagos. Gloria had also established a dependable network of clients in government, organized private sector and the immigration service with the view of sustaining the competitiveness of her employer.
‘Prrrrrrrrh – the telephone rang
“Halo, Global Cereals” Gloria answered
“Suma Benu, How are you Gloria, I will arrive Lagos 10:00 am tomorrow morning, please confirm my hotel reservation” instructed Suma.

Suma had some assignment requiring contacts in Apapa Port.  He was to inspect the quality of chemicals that had been shipped to Global from United Kingdom. He was to ensure that the imports met proforma specifications.

“I have reservation for you in Ikoyi Hotel” Gloria confirmed.
“Thank you. I hope I will be in good hands,” Suma had the characteristic of changing into humorous mood whenever he was operating outside th rice plantation.  Gloria had acquired specialized courteous ways of handling the nature of encounter.
With confirmed hotel reservation, Suma settled down to review the documentation for the expected imports in the Office along Sapara Williams, Street, Lagos
“Let us know the position of the letters of credit on the fertilizers, chemicals and herbicides,” Suma enquired from the Shipping Officer who confirmed that Gloria collected the documents.
“We have forwarded the letter of credit to Agromat Chemical and the consignment had been identified at the port.  Mr. Gromadi has forwarded the shipping documents which we received late yesterday” confirmed Gloria
“I don’t need to reveal much to you but Gloria, the Board will consider you for movement to position of manager. Let us hope we don’t have resistance at the meeting,” Suma whispered to Gloria
“Thank you, Oga” Gloria replied in realization and appreciation that the Field Manager recognized her dedication to the company especially her transparent ways of handling cargos and consignments.
The following day at Board meeting, Gloria was confirmed the manager in charge of the Lagos office, Global Cereals Ltd.
The Board lunch eventually followed at the end of the meeting. Eko Le Meridian was the consistent venue for major functions of Global Cereals. Without doubt, that day, dishes were extraordinarily sumptuous.
Gloria did sit with the Directors at the main reserved table but the humble but assertive lady regarded this particular Board lunch as her promotion treat. Gloria felt proud for the appreciation given to her effort by the prestigious Board of the company.
Rebecca Martin, a tall beautiful light skinned lady in her late thirties had studied management courses at about four colleges in USA and Canada. Fluent speaker of Yoruba and Hausa language she was particularly  proud of her North American training and diction.
“I don’t like the Nigerian way of doing things. How can the world be moving forward and we pursue the opposite direction” Rebecca stuck to her view with broad smiles.
“There is so much progress in this country. My dear lady you are behind times” Claudius Badaru retorted.
The thirty two year old, short and stout man hailed from Karara , one of the riverside communities situated between Lokoja and Jamata along the busy road accessing the Northern part of Nigeria.  Badaru has been employed  as store officer in Global Cereals for about six yeas. Energetic and ambitious Badaru had taken some professional courses in purchasing and supplies. He loved his job and aspired to a higher position in the company. He flaunted his cultural flexibility from time to time.
“I am not one of those people who swear that they will never work south of River Niger. I know people of Southern origin who would not accept to work in the northern parts of the country while some people of northern extraction vow that they will not accept jobs in the southern parts of the country.
Badaru often teased colleagues who he categorized as ethnic chauvinists.
Sylvester Okomadu, a bulky gregarious thirty five years old Niger Deltan, as he preferred to categorise himself also worked at Global Cereals, Lagos office. Sylvester had slugged in eight years, learning the art of administration and relationship management on the job. He was rather single minded as he mobilized local and overseas resources for the company.  Sylvester defined himself as a global manager who would not only work in any location in his country but that he would adapt to a cultural environment anywhere in the world.  Rebecca had always admired Sylvester’s comportment.  On her own part, Rebecca possessed the charisma to earn favour from notable members of the Board. She nursed some jealousy for Gloria for her rapid growth in the company.  Indeed Rebecca believed that her own ambition was not misplaced but that she was not willing, for reasons of promotion, to sacrifice the boisterous life in Lagos for the serene life in Aluju Estate. Nonetheless she was aware that there was no room at the top for her in the current location”.
“In America, Board decisions are dynamic and bold. You cannot put investors’ stake at great risks. Put square pegs in the right places” Rebecca was insinuating that her academic attainment placed her on greater pedestal.  She did not understand why she could not earn promotion while she continued to work in Lagos.
Lady and gentlemen, we have had a good lunch.   We give glory to God, We thank Le Meridian and our own staff”, declared the chairman, Chief Kabiru Madami. 
The restaurant had been specifically reserved for Global Cereals Board. Highly attractive wood carving had been strategically distributed around the expansive space of the restaurant.  Movable partitions demarcated areas of the restaurant and sizes of reserved spaces.  The size of space varied with the number of guests targeted and agreed with management of the hotel.
Kabiru Madami enjoyed the full privileges of an expanding commodity company .  in his own right he maintainedlarge commercial farms between mokwa and bida in niger State of Nigeria.  He was born in Northern jebba where he spent his early years.  Madami, soft spoken, charismatic, sixfooter, was respected for his business expertise and command of English, Hausa and Yoruba languages.  His farm projects had been successful, shifting between corn, soya bean, and sorghum cultivation.  Burdened by sizeable bank loan at the early stages of his farming enterprise, Madami had been well established, emerging as the bride of commercial banks that were eager to post reasonable high lending as meaningful support to agricultural sector.
“We need to complete todays meeting by consideration of management proposals for staff elevation.  Members are advised  to table their comments,’’ Madami addressed his colleagues without focusing attention on a particular member.
‘’Mrs Lagarty, may be I should give you the first opportunity, it appears, I can see you raising your hand,” Madami suggested.
“well, Mr Chairman, I observe that only two ladies enjoy management support for movement into senior positions.  It is important we know how many women occupy management positions in the company. We must be gender sensitive,’’ Mrs Lagarty contributed.
Mrs Stephanie Lagarty, a tall svelt well dressed lawyer who represented an international investor, Farmyard Trusts SA, had consistently promoted gender mainstreaming in public organizations.  She emphasized that eligible women must enjoy the opportunity for competitive positions in dynamic sectors of the economy.
Gloria Bejide had performed impressively over the years, strengthening the company’s position with government and with technical partners in the supply chain abroad.  The procurement and logistics operations of the company had improved considerably since she was assigned coordinating responsibilities about two years earlier.  She maintained extraordinary relations with the company’s banks.  The new position proposed for her as Assistant General Manager will enhance decision making status, empower her and of course enhance her morale.
“We were earlier advised earlier in the year that the scope of the proposed position has expanded considerably, with increasing numeracy.  No evidence of competitive selection has been indicated.  Memebers of the Board need not be emotional about the familiar faces we encounter in the course of our assignment. We must insist on geeting tasks performed by suitable and competent staff, Rolland Adamu, a diminutive but articulate accountant from the Shippers Council advised the Board.
It was believed that considerable brainstorming by members on the promotion exercise had preceded the meeting of the board.  Gloria Bejide though superior in rank and long serving in the system, had encountered opposition since her colleagues in the office acquired new competences that had not been accessible to her due to numerous circumstances.  Rebecca, Martin, Claudius Badaru and Sylvester Okomandu had laid claims on technical skills  they had all learned from Gloria Bejide whose passion was focused on superior service delivery and sustaining high reputation for her employer.  It was expected in situations of competitive differentiation of talent, subordinates would aspire to perform the boss’s job with greater finesse.  Gloria appeared to exhibit  weak defense mechanism in spite of forthrightness.  She recognized threat but she was undaunted.
”We may need to reconsider the options.  Management must re-examine the demands of the senior position, assess all possible candidates, explore possibility of recruiting competencies from the wider job market,” a slow speaking director, the oldest member of the Board, Samiu, Rafadi suggested.
“It appears members are satisfied with almost all the recommendations except Gloria’s movement to the position of Assistant General Manager.  While specific opposition has not been directed at Gloria’s elevation, the job is expected to be performed with appropriate knowledge including desirable leadership capability.  Could we advise the Managing Director to represent the proposition during the next meeting of the Board?” the Chairman, Madami suggested.    
Some prolonged dialogue ensued between members of the Board, at the end of which approval was given that Gloria Bejide be promoted to the position of Assistant General Manager, Value Chain Service. She was to proceed on two months training tour with the major suppliers of the Company prior to full assumption of office.  It was agreed by the Board that the elevation would be effective from the date the promotion decision was taken. 

CHAPTER 10

Fifty eight year old Samson Ndanusa had been retired for two years from the Army.  Retiring as a Sergeant, Ndanusa moved to Aluju where he settled with his wife, Ruth.  The couple lived with two children, Clara, and John of ages six and nine years respectively.  Other five children have grown up and left home.  Ndanusa maintained a subsistence farm where he grew yam, maize, cassava and rice during suitable seasons. The news had spread that processes for payment of pension to officers and ranks in the army had begun.  Sergeant Ndanusa informed his wife of thirty-two years, Ruth that he was traveling to Lagos to pursue the payment of his pension entitlements.

“I have to move immediately. We need the pension money which will be our major income.  Farming and your small trade will increase what we earn and improve our standard of living,” Sergeant Samson explained to his wife.

 “You are embarking on a dangerous journey. You do not have enough money for transport and feeding. You may end up on the street like many others,” Ruth was apprehensive.

“Let me start packing the few belongings for the journey. I will not stay at home to watch our financial position deteriorating,” the pensioner insisted.

Sergeant Samson  stared curiously at his wife as he swallowed morsels of cassava food, along with guinea corn soup, no fish, little oil, sign of hard times.

After many years of marriage and in spite of the culture, Sergeant Samson resisted tough pressure to take another wife.

Ruth plunged her head in her two palms, lamenting and praying aloud for security of her children.

 “I know that these days pension queues are longer than fuel lines,” Samson lamented

Cecilia: “When you see real pensioners, I mean the ones who have not seen money since leaving work, they just forget they have families,” Ruth expressed deep concern..

Before the implementation of the provisions of the Pension Act, throughout major towns in Nigeria, pensioners wandered around individually, in small groups and occasionally in large formations.

Sergeant Samson was determined not to join this category of retired people.  Indeed he had taken a wise decision to settle in a farming community when he left service.

The following morning Samson caressed his wife, Ruth, pecked her cheeks, making her grab the little money he has left for the family.  Sergeant Samson left the village early in the morning while the children were in bed.   Tall and emaciated, the ex service man held a small old traveling bag exhibiting Mak’s logo along with a mid sized propylene bag containing his military raincoat and a few personal effects.

Since retirement and joining the civil community in Aluju, Sergeant Samson had towed the path of a loner trying to understand civil society again.  At the motor park in a nearby village Orehi, Samson met Garba another pensioner of his acquaintance who was also traveling to Lagos but for a different purpose. Garba was attending the annual pensioner party organized by his former employers, a large Brewery.

The old friends exchanged salutation, banters, each searching the other with apt observations by making sarcastic remarks.

“Are you still taking all those drinks from your employers?   You are shinning,” Sergeant teased his friend who, previously, took delivery of complementary products from his employer.

“Well, thank God I breathe fresh air now. You are looking like

a fighter that you are.  You are strong” Garba observed.

“This pension thing is driving us all mad. I have not received one kobo

from the office since I reached the village two years ago, we hear  promises, they make us collect ID card (showing it with effort).  But thank God, relief is coming our way.  We are being invited to complete our documentation for payment,” Samson tried to explain the development.

 “In our case, we have been lucky.  We collect our pension entitlement when due.  May be this was because our employer had always operated the contributory pension scheme which has been integrated in the Pension Act.  There is no doubt that the implementation of provisions of the Act by employers across sectors will be of great benefit to all pensioners,” Garba assured his friend.  

Samson disembarked from the bus by evening in Lagos and he immediately joined all pensioners in the pay office. The ex ­soldiers who had not presented their ID cards were advised to do so as a condition for payment.

An Officer addressed the pensioners, "we do not intend to keep you here continuously. You must go back to your families with money.”

The pensioners cheered, trying to perceive some hope.  The Officer continued,

“Pension is reward for long and loyal services. Your successful retirement from the service makes it automatic for you to enjoy pension entitlements provided the documents you present to us are certified authentic.” The officer discontinued his speech while raising a large well bound book. He confirmed that authentic lists of all beneficiaries through out the country are contained in similar books prepared for the purpose..

“Read out Sir,” one voice echoed,

“Not possible,” the officer retorted, closed the book and left the crowed.

Some ray of hope emerged for those pensioners possessing approved ID card.  Sergeant Samson settled dawn to the new life in pensioners’ Camp, made a few friends while adapting to normal daily life.

Adama Shugaba, a sharp faced man had just arrived from Adankolo in Lokoja, situated at the confluence of rivers Niger an Benue in Kogi State of Nigeria.  Adam,  tall and young was seeking for assistance

“Good afternoon, Sir, I am looking for one Sergeant Samson from Adankolo,” Adama enquired from another young man.

“I do not seem to know him but since he is from kogi State, you may ask that man sitting near the large rubber container.  He arrived yesterday and he appeared to have spoken Kogi language to somebody,” Adama was advised by his listener.

Adama accosted the old man who ignored his approach.

“Good afternoon, Pa,” Adama greeted and introduced himself to the old man.  Adama claimed to be an indigene of a village near Lokoja but indicated that he had settled on a street which sounded familiar to Sergeant Samson.  Adama was dressed in a clean long flowing blue kaptan with cap to match.  He was in his lat 20s.

‘Welcome, my son, are you from home?” Samson enquired.

“Yes sir,” Adama replied with assurance that he was meeting the right person.

Sergeant Samson stared trustingly at Adama.  The old man was enthusiastic about news from home.  However he could not really recognize Adama as a neighbour.

“papa, I knew you well but I always traveled so I understand why you cannot recognize me.  Anywa, I will travel to Adankolo tomorrow.  You may have something for Mama, your mother and Uncle Nda Ali, your brother,” Adama suggested

Sergeant went into deep meditation, two days in the camp, he had barely encountered any sympathizer who could extend generosity to him.

“I have nothing on me but nothing is ever too small, my young boy,”  Sergeant Samson sighed but dipped his fingers in his right pocket and pulled out five hundred naira and continued his address, ‘’give this money to Mama but tell Nda that he will hear from me.”

Adama had been ten time lucky in the camp with pensioners.  Adama lived on this simple trick of ethnic affiliation.  He spoke many local languages changing his story as he accosted each victim.

By the end of the week, Sergeant Samson had shifted his location in the camp, changed his dress and a clean shave.  Indeed, Sergeant Samson had met generous Samaritans with whom he succeeded in negotiating small loan with which he started a petty business by selling recharged cards by the major road.  Sergeant Samson summoned all the strength available to him, he would not allow age to suppress him.

By Sunday, Adama, adorned in suit and a face cap appeared before Sergeant Samson in his new location.  After salutation, Adama claimed to known the old Samson in Makurdi.  The young narrated a long winded story about rural development, real cock and bull story apparently.

At first, Sergeant stared at his acquaintance, presuming he had suddenly become a lunatic based on the young man’s story.  The old soldier, recollecting physical characteristics, definitely recognized Adama who he now branded a lunatic based on the disjointed story emanating from the young man.  Sergeant realized that Adama had earlier played pranks on him and raised alarm.

Before Adama could readjust himself to scheme a stratagem on Samson, the young man was surrounded by pensioners and some of their visiting relations.  Indeed Adama had collected various sums of money  from several victims, framing different stories each time.  It was serious confrontation between the young rogue and a disciplined but ferocious angry mob of old pensioners.

Adama pleaded in all the languages that came readily to him.  A police officer had by now intervened as Adam desperately for leniency.  The young trickster was whisked away by the police officer.  Numerous pensioners were astonished that a ragamuffin could infiltrate their ranks and inflict such losses on them.  Victims were furious and dumbfounded.

  

   

It was obvious that pensioners from security services encountered challenge at stages of processing their pension entitlements but it was not a unique occurrence.  Beneficiaries in other services including railway, shipping, airways and private sector organizations experienced delay in settlement of pension entitlements prior to the passing of the Pension Act into law.

It must be emphasized that with improved longevity, the population of pensioners have continued to grow rapidly in most countries.  Analysts observed that pension budget competes vigorously with provisions for development in key public services.  However it was envisaged that integration of contributory pension scheme with existing private sector investment vehicles and assurance policies will strengthen capability of Administrators to settle entitlements in favour of beneficiaries.

Sergeant Samson and many pensioners whose documents were certified

complete and authentic survived on high expectations especially when payment advice was being released.  Indeed Samson eventually returned to Aluju where he intensified activities in multi crop and all year farming.

CHAPTER 13

The Estate had the capacity to attract new settlers.  It had consistently maintained detribalized posture, accommodating Nigerians from all ethnic groups without any section claiming dominance over any other.
Samara Baru, a sixty year old man had come to settle in Aluju Estate after his retirement from government service.  He was sipping his glass of Sprite soft drink in a local bar.  He was reminiscing on the thirty five years he had served in the federal Civil Service as a surveyor without blemish.  
An itinerant vendor of Jinva Juice lottery tickets accosted him Samara
“Papa, let make you rich for ever,” the vendor placed three lottery tickets on the old man’s table.  Reluctantly Samara detached a random number from the middle of the booklet, paid the young man two hundred naira and wisely hid the coupon in his purse.  Samara memorized the number gesticulating with lizard like nods.
A month later, at home, while Samara was watching a television programme which was interspaced with commercials, a lottery result was flashed.  Jinva Multiple Juice low calorie refreshing drink had its logo on the screen.  Samara jumped into position.  The winning numbers appeared. Samara cited a number and screamed in excitement.
“I have won,” he repeatedly exclaimed.
The lottery campaign supported a key government project in various communities.  Jinva Marketing Manager explained why the Company adopted social marketing option rather than media slots to demonstrate its social responsibility towards the government project.  Winners were required to collect their prizes on Thursday during the week.  Pa Samara jumped into the room to pick his coupon.
“It is, it is,” he explained.  All family members ruptured into songs of victory; wife Saratu, fifty years, daughter Asi, 29 years, second daughter, Tosin, 26 years and son, Sunmola, 22 years.  First prize winner received N3 million.  Samara won the first prize.
“It is great to rejoice but none of you will benefit from this bonanza immediately.  I am walking straight into the bank with the cheque for fixed deposit,” Samara demonstrated jocularly.
A row had been ignited.  Saratu was bewildered.
“how can my husband become a millionaire without a dime to show for it?“pa you need home truth,”Asi declared.
“Dad is teasing us,” Sunmonu would not accept his father’s position.
“Dad has always been a miser, we know that,” Tosin tried to assess reality.
Samara would have nothing to do with his family’s preference for fads, fashion, glamour, electronic junks, multiple mobile phones or elaborate kitchen wares.  The old man stuck to his gun on matters of personal interest.  He would resist family incursion into use of funds.  Educational costs would not distract him.
The two daughters lived at home after completing their University programmes.  Professional and vocational interests preoccupied them.  The boy had just completed the mandatory the National Youth Service programme.  He was assiduously searching for a job while living at home.  As Samara talked endlessly about his investment prowess, the family developed strategy for dissuading the old man.
At the lottery prize presentation, Samara appeared highly elated, jealously clutching his purse to protect his winning coupon.  Members of his family boycotted the ceremony in protest.  They were nursing their own plan.  Samara was undaunted.  The presentation was sufficiently colourful.
Samara assessed the risk of holding unto his prize, a highly valued financial instrument at a crowded public function.  He read the cheque to ensure that he was the authentic beneficiary and payee.  He  admired the instrument of exchange, kissed it and thanked the presenter by enthusiastically waving the crowd with his free left hand.  Thereafter the old man surreptitiously deserted the scene, proceeding directly to the branch of his bank located on the Aluju Estate.
The ceremony took place in Jebba South, a cosmopolitan medium sized settlement of industrial workers, government employees of various cadres and petty traders, women, men and numerous artisans.  The township of jebba is divide into two parts by the river Niger. Jebba North is populated by ethnic Nupe engaged principally in fishing and farming until the construction and commissioning of a hydro electric dam along the bank of river Niger in the northern part of the separated town.  Influx of settlers seeking to be engaged in the dam project had raised the population in the communities in spite of the separate camps that were constructed for workers by the contractors.  The railway station in Jebba South and the paper mill had sustained commercial activities in the part of the town prior to the construction of the dam.  Indeed Jebba South had been a rocky lively settled admired by early European explorers.
“Are you bringing your pension cheque?’’ a young tall dark skinned male teller who was conversant with Samara’s idiosyncrasies, posed the question on encountering the old man holding a cheque in the  banking hall.
“Pension is not easy to collect as you think---But I will not end in the street,” Samara whispered to the Teller as he showed his cheque in broad smiles.
“OK. You are the multi Juice Prize winner.  Somebody said our customer won it.  Your name did not come into mind.  This is big congrats. Any party, Papa?”
‘Party for winning lottery?. Yes I will throw it when I a am as rich as your bank.” Samara quipped.  Both discussants laughed aloud.
Samara Baru was ushered into the manager’s office.  A tall lanky thirty five year old gentle man, Clement Dada, who chose his words thoughtfully beckoned the old man to the visitor’s chair.  The manager listened to the customer, took the cheque and inspected it intensively.  Rare occurrence.  Samara was not playing on a credulous mind.  Clement had a sharp nose for fakery and for a counterfeit cheque in particular.  The old man was nervous. Why the prolonged examination of the cheque?
“Congratulations, Mr Samara, you may be a successful gambler’’ Clement wondered
“I agree, it is an uncertain way of making money,” Samara replied
“It does not look like a magic paper, so lodge it and let us wait for clearing,” the manager advised.
“I am not in the fool’s gallery. This is good money.  I will pursue prudent investment from next week,” Samara was not daydreaming.
Samara Baru returned home into the warm embrace of his wife, Saratu..
“Dear, I laugh to the bank’’
So it is true your ticket won the first prize’.
‘’I am not a magician.  But I walked into the bank with three million naira.  He who cares may doubt, but I am the lucky husband and father,’ Samara beat his chest.
‘‘Was the manager surprised?” Saratu asked.
‘’If he did not trust me as an customer, he would have taken for a con man,’’ Samara conjectured.
“You are playing too many tricks on us in the house,’’ Samara suggested
‘’My position is clear.  I have a right to be wealthy. Many people put money in the bank and watch.  I want to join the group,’ Samara put his feet down.
“Good luck to you. Your children have different opinion,” Saratu cautioned her husband.
“it is their entitlement.  My own idea is for me,’’ the old man retorted.
Saratu was not occupying a well paid job.  She had grown up to cultivate the land and live on it as protection against hunger and famine.  She maintained a vegetable garden and green house with small sized poultry.  Saratu kept busy on daily basis after returning from work.  The mother of three expected her husband to provide generous support for the expansion of her garden.
As , the first daughter ,a struggling lawyer aspired to form an NGO (Non Governmental Organization) to cater for the underprivileged girl child lacking access to education  and skills.  She approached her project with zeal and considerable ambition while talking passionately about it to sympathetic listeners.
Fayi, the second daughter ran a choreography, a fast growing dancing school.  She strongly believed that the world was rather melancholic and people needed to be amused.  She expand her enterprise in response to market demand.
Karim, the son was not left out in developing a fulfilling career.  He aspired to combine his academic talent with sports.  He had developed into a soccer freak.  The young man had high expectations in the wealth generating effect of soccer and other key sport activities.
In spite of these divergent family projects requiring some level of funding, Samara was unbending, rigid and full of guts to grow his money.
“You cannot do it alone, if we grow business, you will benefit too,’’ Karim confronted his father.
“You are mistaken.  I need professional Managers to create wealth for me.  I have sufficient investment in all of you,” samara was adamant.
“dad is blowing hot,” Asi observed.
Äs we are, Dad thinks we’re trying to fleece him. We have grandiose ambitions with poor credit rating,” Fayi attempted to rationalize.
Ï believe you try on fantasy.  I try to be focused,” Samara restated his position.
“Too much money arguments these days,” Saratu was bewildered.
While old Samara retired into his room, Asi tried to mastermind conspiracy by luring her siblings.  An agreement was struck to foil Papa’s investment plan.  The adult children would commence processes of introducing prospective spouses into the household.   Marital engagements, weddings and arrival of babies would compel Samara to provide the family with necessary support.
Weeks went by, the euphoria of winning lottery had settled.  As evidence of cheque was completely absent within the house, tension could not abate.  Samara would not entertain discussion on his new financial circumstance.  Indeed the old man paid a visit to his bank manager with view of exploring investment windows.
“You have seven day call and thirty day fixed deposit to be automatically rolled over,” Mr Dada, the manager advised Samara. The Manager offered 12 ½ % on 30 day deposit with option for automatic roll over.
Samara confessed that he was risk averse and would expressed preference for a diversified investment plan particularly into high yielding vehicles.  He was advised on the prospects in the capital market especially steady growing blue chip companies that maintained attractive dividend policies.
Samara opted for the initial 30 day fixed deposit. He would forward investment instructions shortly.
The old man returned home in pensive mood but with strong drive to pursue his saving and investment plan.  Samara arrived home with neither cash nor remorse but humming cheerful tunes thereby set the whole household fuming with anger and frustration.
Samara did not anticipate that her millionaire husband would have such strong grip on cash and had become a changed personality.  When Samara was in employment, he spent freely on his wife’s clothing, transport to work, children’s education and welfare.
“It is my turn to get rich,” samara reminded members of his family.  The old gradually assumed the character type of the wealthy, eccentric, weird and frugal.  It was noticeable that samara could not alter his dress code, appearing in rather tattered suits and scruffy boots, continuously attired in monotonous apparels.
Samara had no urge to upgrade his family circumstance, consistently generating shock with actions considered distasteful.  Family members adopted divergent postures but with affront as motive.
As the position of the lottery money was shrouded in secrecy, Samara, an omnivorous reader was developing extracurricular ambitions.  He decided to move into the larger society, specifically to be regarded as an opinion leader in the immediate community.
Asi was systematic about her NGO project.  Lateef Goma, her boyfriend, had been formally introduced to the family.  Lateef, an unassuming articulate 32 year old Accountant had a hilarious first encounter with Samara who enquired whether the young man was genuinely affectionate.  The old man observed that in view of his new financial status, suitors might develop unemotional motives about her children.  He was reassured that Lateef and Asi had earlier met during University days but had not really developed a relationship until Asi started the NGO project.  Lateef had superior interpersonal skills thus relating to people easily especially his access to influential people.  Successful NGO depends  strongly on relationship building. Love between Lateef and Asi blossomed by the day.  Currently they shared most work time, some leisure and recreation together.  Gradually Samara began to notioce impressive qualities in Lateef.  The old man did not observe subterfuge but instead he recognized the confidence that was capable of translating into commitment.
While the daughters, their brother, mother and intimate friends of the children were in deep consultations on the best method to relax the obstinate position of the old father, a message was received from Samara’s sister, Omoni, in the village that her son was getting married in Aluju Estate.  Samara was requested to host all the guests for a period of three days.
Samara’s nephew, Jamiu Ajulo, 24 year old economics graduate, the prospective bridegroom brought a letter from his mother to Old Samara.  Content of the letter dismayed Samara who refused to commit himself to the financial support for the wedding in any form.  Rather Samara confronted the young nephew  for overwhelming his mother with problems.  The old man also rigorously interviewed Jamiu about his job, salary, tangible assets, suitable accommodation and ability to secure continuous employment.  Enquiries also centred on level of savings that would justify preparedness to engage a lady in marriage.  The encounter revealed that the wedding would deplete Samara’s resources in view of Jamiu’s lack of financial capability to an elaborate ceremony.  It was confirmed that the wedding guests had already commenced their journey and they were expected to arrive Samara’s Aluju residence by evening.  About thirty guests were expected, men, women, children, drummers and singers.
Samara was in thought over unplanned hosting of innumerable incompatible guests.  The old man considered options for combating the onslaught on his household; borrow money against maturity of his investment or abandon the responsibility of hosting the wedding guests.  Samara was compelled to brainstorm with his wife and children on the imminent upsurge of unfamiliar person within the house and the meager resources available to assuage the dilemma.  Already there scarcity of cash and the existing tension was heightened.
“There is no alternative than to leave some money in the house.  the guests will soon be arriving in large number,” Saratu pleaded.
Samara exploded uttered inaudible invectives and stormed into his bedroom.  He soon appeared in the lounge attired in an unpopular suit.  The old man’s tantrums were unsettling to the children.  Saratu was most destabilized by her husband’s rancorous behaviour.
Samara dashed through the door and gate, ignoring the stunning countenances of his wife and children.
‘’Papa, Papa----“ all boomed in unison to no avail.
With desperation, Saratu was urged to pursue her husband.  She obliged, rushed to catch only the glimpse of her husband who was then disappearing into the next street.
Three disposed women and a young man were by now brooding on actions needed to assuage the problems engendered by imposition of helpless wedding guests.  Samara’s house had already been depleted, absence of food items and ingredients for stew.  Beverages had been rare in the household.  Saratu and her daughters were perplexed while in deep reflection and behold, the first group of visitors, two men, five women and two children were received.  In consternation, the three hostesses exchanged bewildered glances forced some smile and welcomed guests grudgingly.
Karim, like his father, had sneaked out, but for a different reason.  His club contract was sufficient reason to absent himself from home.  The young man expected his father to live up to his family responsibilities.  Karim dressed up and left home abruptly, feigning a wave of hand, uttering parting salutation with broad mischievous smile to his mother and sisters.  The two ladies and their mother retreated for further consultations.
Meanwhile water was offered as refreshment in accordance with custom of Samara’s ethnic group.  The offer was followed by deep expression of appreciation.
By now, guests appeared in drones with light luggage, paper sacks or carrier bags.  Wedding was festivity and bounties were expected from the hosts.  None of the guests arrived with food items as the situation appeared grim to the hostesses.
The countdown, lunch, dinner and general entertainment were still absent.  Enquiries about Samara from visitors yielded inaudible disgruntled remarks from the hostesses.  ‘’had Papa travelled, was he still at work, what was his expected time of arrival?” were some of the questions posed.  No clue emerged to resolve the enquiries.  Nonetheless guests were at ease, feeling at home as a wedding celebration had always the happiest moment in a community.  Nothing must be done to jeopardize the enjoyment.  The guests watched an interesting programme on the television, chatting freely.
Eventually the atmosphere was changing for the better.  Asi had replenished the kitchen.  Plates of food and orange drinks arrived for the visitors.  In fact well wishers in the neighborhood and around the Estate brought gift items of food and money including beddings for temporary use.
Threat of food shortage was temporary defused with  boiled yam emerging from the kitchen.  While Asi and Fayi were developing some menu, a middle aged woman amongst the visiting groups dashed into the kitchen offering to prepare village stew, okra and vegetables.
“You know we don’t eat the tomato soup that city people feed on,” the woman uttered as her unsolicited service, mode of language expression and boisterous approach intimidated the hostesses.  The village woman persisted, she was persuasive and humorous and got her way through but she could not operate the gas cooker.  More of the female guests helped in the kitchen.  Asi and Fayi, looked on, occasionally amused while Saratu was preoccupied with arrangement of stock of food items that were randomly deposited in the kitchen by neighbours.
Jamiu Ajulo, the bride groom had arrived from a modest hotel he had been staying on the Estate to welcome his mother and other relations from the village.
By 10:00 pm, the visitors had taken their dinner.  The gathering was in entertainment mode.  Ethnic songs, mild music, dancing, stories and anecdotes were in session.  Clowning about marriage festivities, who was competent to marry who, elopement, unsolicited affections were subjects of discussion.  Good and bad dancers, creative singers, jesters and folklorists entertained as complete merriment persisted until suddenly Samara emerged.  It was quite late in the night.  The old man was not desirous of rocking the boat.  He exchanged salutation with relations he recognized and responded warmly to other guests’ reverence.  Thereafter he stealthily gained access to his bed for deserved night rest.  The merriment continued until the guests gradually retired to bed.  The following morning, members of wedding, men, women and children, dressed up gaily dressed in multi colored different attires, trooped to board available motor vehicles arranged to convey them to the venue of the wedding.
Early in the morning, Samara made several efforts to explain his absence during the previous evening but his excuses fell on deaf ears.  Amid frantic efforts to prepare for the wedding ceremony and reception, a prolonged argument ensued between Samara and his sister, Mama Jamiu.  Finger pointing, recriminations and unwholesome language pervaded the air.  However guests intervened to sooth the temper of both parties.  Wedding was to bring joy, not acrimony.  The matter was temporarily resolved in the spirit of the function.  Matrimony must always represent love, cooperation and sacrifice.
Samara agreed to seethe his sword but he vowed not to attend the wedding ceremony.  He claimed to have participated in many similar extended family events.  Undaunted by persuasion, Samara was aware that he had parental role to play but he did not recognize himself as the most important factor at the wedding.  He however prayed eloquently for the couple.
Visitors debated the confrontation and expressed shock at Samara’s obduracy.  His wife and daughters were by now operating in the background, licking their wounds, fearing possible transfer of aggression to them by some visitors.
“What a human type Samara had degenerated into,’’ most onlookers wondered.
“Where on earth was ever done on a wedding day,” one woman lamented.
“Strange things happen everyday,” another woman wondered aloud.
On the departure of the wedding party, the older women in the various groups teased and cajoled Samara while at the same time showering praises on his wife and daughters and indeed acclaiming them for being loving hostesses.  The men added their own appreciation while shaking Samara’s hands warmly for offering secured and comfortable shelter as well as for covert supply of nourishment and delicious beverages.
Samara’s money was however in secured deposit, yielding interest while the old man continued his daily existence with humble life style.  The family members pursued their personal projects on lower budget, shelving ambitious plans.
Asi’s NGO was enjoying support from donor communities and government at all tiers.  Meanwhile Asi had secured her mother’s co-operation to prepare the marital engagement with Lateef.  Samara had foreseen the development and was not too difficult to convince.  Samara had perfected his thrift disposition and would muster funds from three sources to assist in financing engagement and wedding.
Fayi formerly established choreography agency, supplying dancers to bands and entertainment spots.  Comedians also registered for training to enhance quality of their stand-up outings and other comic strip shows.  Classes were also organized for who would acquire comedy skills.  Clowning lessons would enable core dancers to aim at starting independent comic strip shows.
Samara numerous trips visits to the Agency was a boost for Fayi’s morale. The old man also indicated readiness to provide seed fund for the Agency should there be need to raise project finance.
Karim made steady progress to complete a skin grafting programme at a University.  The young man was also determined to to secure club membership through systematic training and participation in local soccer fixtures and draws.  He had participated in group selection sessions to two clubs and each occasion he had opportunities to interact with stars, officials, guests, fans and supporter club members.  Karim would work himself into becoming a star too, with the possibility of exporting his skill.  He was targeting the high earning potential of the professional footballer.  Occasionally, Samara had watched his son at training sessions.  Often he watched his performance at leagues.  Karim tried to lure his father to invest in soccer.  The old man’s interest in the game was growing.
A husband’s walk around the garden with occasional helping hand to tend the flowers,, water the vegetables and undertake harvesting activities gave considerable joy to Saratu.  Her husband’s support was required in other areas of equal importance.

CHAPTER 11

Alampara Samiu, a permanently unshaven diminutive of about 43 years had been a tramp throughout hi sojourn on earth.  He had access to a small room within the compound of Auntie Cecil, a distant relation.  Alampara, a night crawler, would spend all day in bed within the small room he occasionally shared with friends he met during the course of his lifestyle and nocturnal petty errand trade in the community.  Though often rendered listless through inebriety and tobacco use,  Alampara exhibited some intelligence as he remembered most past events in which he was a participant, playing pranks to secure monetary favour from familiar people.

“Alampara, you have a deep knowledge of this heighbourhood especially people and night life,”a visitor asked.

Alampara smiled as aprelude to every statement he made. Throughout his waking hours, Alampara lacked dull moments.

“I see things as they happen.  I am not a journalist but people know that I see them.  But I do not disturb anybody.  I have nothing to do with the police.  I am not their informer,”  Alampara was defensive.  He was a completely harmless character, laughing at all human miseries and frailties, especially when they were partially self inflicted.  Alampara raked his livelihood within the neighborhood and amongst reveling nocturnal visitors to the estate.  He was extraordinarily comic about philanthropy, securing trust for local errands but completely unreliable about immediate feedback.  Every new encounter was a challenge to Almpara who would easily suspend earlier commitments.  He was literate but incapable of engaging in reading activity.  Indeed Alampara scorned newspapers which he categorized as time wasters.  He followed rigid daily routines, retiring to bed at dawn and waking at eventide.  He met rat race emergencies as they occurred, plunging into night life with great expectations.

In spite of the frailties, Alampara had grandiose ambition to sanitize the neighborhood from influx of other tramps creating nuisance value for his own network.

Alampara and Jampata had an unpleasant encounter.  The latter young man was 25 years old who was visiting from another village nerar Mokwa in Niger State.  Jampata had lived from hand to mouth persistently absconding from farm work.  On the jolly evening, Jampata, who donned a black lightweight jacket, posed as a conjurer and ventriloquist.  He continuously played pranks, tossing and jostling objects to attract an audience.  Jampata was easily noticeable as he was laconic but rather temperamental, trading verbal assaults and invectives whenever challenged.  He was most often cajoled by women folk who enjoyed his grotesque jokes and insinuations.

“I will close my eyes, and I will not set them on you again,”Alampara confronted Jampata

“Are you Mr Neighborhood Watch? Show me your Identity Card” Jampata retorted with uncontrolled verbal assaults.

“Collect your naira elsewhere,” Alampara insisted

“You are not the tax man,” Jampata insisted.

There might have been a remote cause for the confrontation.  A fist fight would likely ensue.  Both parties appeared unfit as Alampara, the disputant and Jampata, the antagonist were both unfit, each staggering toward the other, determined to unleash an apparent weak punch.

Jampata had free access to missiles, chairs and empty bottles which he grabbed randomly and with fury, undoubtedly set to deploy on his new enemy.  Alampara was adept at self defense but he was defiant to strike his opponent at his weakest point.  He aimed at collecting Jampata’s greatest asset, the fragile jacket.  The confrontation was interpreted by an onlooker as duel over an unidentified target of the opponents’ con machination
Togba Gara was the only son of his late parents.  Fifty eight year old Gara struggled through school to earn a degree in Accounting.  He married his early love, Rebecca when she was nineteen years old.   The beautiful hard working lady was born in the village, Owara, few kilometers from Jamata, situated by the massive bridge constructed on the River Niger linking Southern and Northern Nigeria.  From the bridge, curious travelers could gaze at the direction of the adjacent confluence of Rivers Niger  and Benue in  Lokoja while also admiring the range of mountains forming the Agbaja plateau along the motor way.  The couple had two children, a young twenty seven year old man, Tobi Gara and his sister, Cecilia twenty five yaer old graduate of economics.  Tobi worked in a government Agency as Surveyor while the

CHAPTER 12

Togba Gara was the only son of his late parents.  Fifty eight year old Gara struggled through school to earn a degree in Accounting.  He married his early love, Rebecca when she was nineteen years old.   The beautiful hard working lady was born in the village, Owara, few kilometers from Jamata, situated by the massive bridge constructed on the River Niger linking Southern and Northern Nigeria.  From the bridge, curious travelers could gaze at the direction of the adjacent confluence of Rivers Niger  and Benue in  Lokoja while also admiring the range of mountains forming the Agbaja plateau along the motor way.  The couple had two children, a young twenty seven year old man, Tobi Gara and his sister, Cecilia twenty five yaer old graduate of economics.  Tobi worked in a government Agency as Surveyor while the sister worked as Customer Service Officer in a Commercial Bank.  Old Tigba Gara, their father, an only child wanted his own children to grow and multiply without further delay.  Gara was desirous of cuddling grand children and possibly great grand children.  His idea about this proposition was fixed; there was no possibility of shifting ground.  Gara further insisted that he would look out for prospective suitors for his two adult children, if they encountered hurdles in producing their heart desires.

When confronted by their fathe on the subject, the children were astonished.  Gara had always repeated the family circumstance of him, being an only child who must favour an enlarged family.  By Devine providence and God’s love for him, he was enjoying the blessing of two children from his charming wife, Rebecca.  Uncomfortable about her husband’s rigid stance on an issue that would shape the future of her children, Rebecca admonished her spouse but Tigba was adamant and events unfolded.

Tobi spent more time outside home inducing discomfort in the mother and the sister who lamented on the sudden development in the young man’s withdrawal habit.  Unknown to members of his family, Tobi had developed the concept of an ideal wife who must be elegant, endowed with reasonable height; dark skinned and would be identified with beautiful set of teeth.  In addition, Tobi’s wife would be intelligent and dynamic but not necessarily abrasive.

Cecilia, the beautiful daughter in the house expected fate to take its course.  She frequently lamented to friends, “How could my father give me an ultimatum to present a suitor. Men must do the talking first.”  Not all friends agreed with her.  Cecilia did not possess the temperament to impose her personality on people amongst whom she socialized.

Tobi had gone out of the house in company of a number of friends.  It was a pleasant day in a small garden restaurant where the group of friends listened to music, lampooned major esteemed characters muddling through major events in the country and concocting ridiculous questions and answers on diverse social matters.

“Tell us what a lady hates most in her life?” a young man giggled.

“A lady detests a braggart who possesses an empty purse,” the sudden reply.

The young people laughed as they all stared at a young lady walking around the open restaurant.  She wore a long dress, probably searching for somebody she expected in the crowd.  She ignored the combined attention on and walked away.

The friends were just out for a good time, exchanging banters and planning to participate in more rewarding events including European league matches.  On leaving the restaurant, Tobi proceeded home where she met his mother as he entered the lounge.

“your sister had returned early from work.  She did not tell me why she was not fully at work today,” Rebecca explained to her son.

“She may be tired.  If she is watcing the television, I will talk to her but if she is in bed, I will not disturb her.  How’s Dad?” Tobi enquired.

“The man is ok. He is about who is marrying who.  He told me that though marriages are contracted in heaven, they could be influenced on earth.  I do not understand what he means by all that,” Rebecca mused.

“Children have occupied his mind since I grew up to be his son.  He has forgotten that it was not his fault that he was the only child of his parents.   There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about his circumstance.  Papa is alive. That is our joy. We are not to blame for his lack of siblings,”

“Why do you talk about your father in  that type of language?”  The man knows what he wants and he has aright to complain,” Rebecca suggested.

 “Not to me.  I cannot help him to realize his dreams. Both of you should have worked harder but you shifted your responsibilities on us,” Tobi insinuate.

“Don’t be foul boy.  You cannot push something out of an empty sack. It was enough effort getting the two of you.  Just do what your father tells you,” Rebecca insisted.

Tobi ignored his mother, searched around for some food settled down, had a fill of rice uninterrupted as he watched a comedy programme.

Tobi and Cecilia had prepared in the morning for work.  Their father, Tigba Gara had also risen , already on the breakfast table.  On sighting the young people, the father beckoned.

“My young professionals, I hope you had a nice sleep and already to do today’s work with all your strength, sincerity and knowledge,” old Gara expressed.

“Good morning Dad,” Tobi saluted

“Good morning Daddy,” Cecilia also greeted

“The task you have assigned to us is more challenging than our paid employment.  We don’t want your version of marriage and we are not detectives to know where good Nigerian spinsters and bachelors reside,” Tobi confronted his father.

“We know.  I have been receiving visitors, men and women  professing love to you lucky children.  These prospective suitors may be serious or charlatans but I cannot sound more serious on the subject matter.  Your mother really wants to carry and wash her grand children,”Gara persisted.

“Leave mama out of this controversy.  She did not invent the idea of hush and multiple marriages.  You are the mastermind,” Cecilia was rather furious and Tigba interrupted.

“may be the terms are not clear to both of you.  Tobi will bring an intelligent lady from a wealthy home.  You, my dear daughter, Cecilia, you must present a rich man.  For the sake of emphasis, my position is clear on issues.  I do not need to repeat the family circumstance.  Both of you are growing and by the Grace of God, you will multiply,”Gara was in prayer mood.

“You have told us that several times but what is the urgency.  By the way where do you get your ideas from?” Tobi enquired

“ideas! Hm, They are more than ideas. In Nigeria, people fly to the top because of connection.  You don’t clap at happy marriages these days.  You can’t identify successful marriage until the couple have stayed together for years quarrelling, making up, sometime separating, reuniting, really slogging it out in Nigeria.  So don’t argue with me.  Do what I tell you,” Gara reemphasized

“What a father!” Cecilia lamented.

“Was mother imposed on him?  This must be some revenge with modification.  By the way, what’s on?” Tobi was rather stoic.

“You know I have never really taken anybody serious, let alone to think about who has what. Anyway take care.  We will see in the evening.  Try to return home early,” Cecilia advised.

“For this joint project I will try to come home early, otherwise Papa will molest hell out of you.

CHAPTER 13
Samani Bandoma paid an unusual visit to Tigba Gara’s house.  Thirty five years old strongly built man, he had seen difficult times.  He was fluent in English, Hausa and Yoruba languages.  Not endowed with much education, a compulsive traveler, Bandoma had mixed in great circles, having worked as Custom Agent and as currency trader in the black economy.  Occasionally he earned good money which enabled him to be a key player in critical circles including high profile politics, sport related social relations and extensive community participation.
“What may this young man be searching for on this ground and in this compound?” Tigba Gara pondered aloud
Samani Bandoma pretended as he was not being addressed.  He saluted Tigba Gara and his wife, Rebecca with utmost reverence by prostrating.
“Young man, you in ceremonious attire, must have missed your way to a carnival” Tigba suggested.
“Sir, I have arrived at my destination,” Bandoma replied with confidence.
“Are you dreaming, there is no festival in this compound and you are a complete stranger to us” Tigba stated with firm countenance.
“That is precisely why I am visiting during the day when the sun at work,” Bandoma sounded laconic.
“There is no stage for buffoonery here,” Tigba reprimanded the young man.
“I may just be the visitor you require now,” Bandoma persevered.
“That may have befallen the young man?  He is confident of being on track.  But it appears he has lost his way,” Tigba addressed his wife.
“your words may be in the air.  You have one of the most beautiful spinsters on the estate,” Rebecca suggested.
“I am not staging a mock wedding here.  I asked for an intelligent wealthy man for our daughter, not a charlatan,” Tigba was infuriated.
“It is just a first encounter and your initial impression.  The man may be front.  Keep your mind open,” Rebecca advised.
Bewildered, Tigba Gara’s mind wondered just as Samani Bandoma suddenly reappeared.
“Sir I need to confer with you privately.  There is a matter that interests you which I can discuss,” Bandoma appealed to the old man.
“Are you an Agent or Principal?” Tigba was curious.
“My Agency has ceased to operate and I have never a school teacher.  I could not have risen to head a school,”  Bandoma responded to the question literally.  Tigba Gara ignored the man’s vile language.
“You have my ears.  Pour your mind into them,” Tigba conceded.
“how do I start?  Ok.  My feet have led me to your compound for one special favour,’’  Bandoma paused but continued “That will unfold.  But I have com to add to your family riches.  Your beautiful daughter is my better half,” Bandoma unveiled his aspiration.
“Let the heavens intervene.  What is this half that you are talking about, young man?  I cannot identify the good fortune that dwells here that you are capable of increasing but--- “ Tigba was interrupted
“My feet have never led me astray.  I am sure you represent a man of wealth, influence and charisma.  I wish to humbly inform you that I am endowed with the wherewithal to be your son in law,” Bandoma declared his objective.
“Rebecca! Rebecca!  Come and be part of one in a life time rattling.  The devil has sent an emissary to us.  This young man is playing a husband role on a lady he has not set his eyes on,” Tigba exclaimed in desperation.
“How do you come into all that? Rebecca was calm
“Be patient to listen,” Tigba advised his wife.
“Papa is the grandfather of children and you are my mother in law,” Bandoma addressed Rebecca.
“Gentleman, are you dreaming?  We have nothing to do with your children.  I have never met you. I cannot be you mother anything,”  Rebecca admonished Bandoma
Tigba Gara and his wife, Rebecca gazed at each other in utter shock.  Samani Bandoma, though unperturbed, stared mouth agape, wondering why he was being misunderstood.  He sauntered away.
“What can you make from the man’s speech,?“Tingba wondered
“rumour has spread that you want to give your daughter to a rich man,” Rebecca suggested.
“Must the suitor be a self proclaimed wealthy impostor?”
“This is Nigeria.  You cannot easily read wealth from a man’s face. Ok may be by the car he drives or his family.  But this one, we don’t know him from anywhere,” Rebecca lamented.
“Well, tell your daughter and son to act by my bidding,” Tingba teased his wife.
At a book launching, a lanky dark 32 year old man stood behind Cecilia, sampling copies of books on display.  Suddenly, he called the lady in his front by her name.  Cecilia was astounded, stared at him wondering how the young man recognized by name.
“Hello, how did you get my name?” Cecilia smiled as she enquired.
“Are you surprised or will you like to guess?--- in the boutique at Tudunwada,”  Samson Yaro affirmed slowly and continued “just browsing, we need to see more often. What are you doing this evening?” he concluded with an apparent invitation
“Not much.  Honestly I don’t really know,’ Cecilia was reluctant to continue the conversation.
‘Let us meet and chat over nothing,” Samson further suggested.
Both acquaintants smiled and fixed an appointment.
Raphael Babado, thirty year old man, devotee of the Gara family had stayed around the household for many years.  He was a kleptomaniac, coveting whatever he regarded as good for a young man.  Often he worked hard for personal advantage, especially acting on the gullibility of Tigba Gara.
“There is a beautiful lady I want to talk to you about,” Rapheel suggested to old Gara.
“what do you want do with a lady when you cannot mange your life.  Or have you gone to take favours from her?” Tingba was inquisitive.
“No, Papa,  She has been saying something I don’t quite understand.  Whether she claims her parents know you or you will like to meet her,” Raphael indicated.
“Me, what for? I have nothing to do with young ladies. Raphy, I don’t know what you are up to with your stories.” Tingba appeared to rebuke Raphael
The young man left in pensive mood.
“Raphy said a young lady wants to see me.  He was not specific,” Tingba informed his wife.
“Is she a Sales lady or an Insurance person?”Rebecca wondered
Raphael emerged with an astonishingly beautiful light skinned tall lady.  She was introduced as Dorothy, about twenty years old.
“Good afternoon Sir, good afternoon Mummy,” the lady saluted on her knees.
Dorothy was warmly received by the old couple.  Rebecca left the scene immediately.
“Yes, I am listening to you, young lady,” Tigba Gara confronted the lady.
“I am chief Balonwu’s daughter. My name is Dorothy”
“Ok, How are your parents? I have not seen your Dad for quite some time. How is he doing? Tigba Gara was in family disposition.
“My Dad is very fine. Raphael informed me that you would like to see me,” Dorothy declared calmly.
“Me!  What is happening in this compound?  Has Raphael lost his brain?” Tingba Gara explode.
“he said once I mention my parents’ names you will understand.  He said you always mention that  Chief Balonwu  Idamote has a young daughter with good conduct,” Dorothy narrated her story.
Tigba Gara listened in astonishment as he declared, “Does what you heard from that rascally Raphael propel you to pay me a sudden visit. In any case, if I have a motive with the alleged statement, why must send Raphael instead of arranging to see your father?  You can see that Raphael has disappeared.  All the same, I must appreciate your visit; now I can recognize you wherever I see.   You have grown into womanhood,” Tingba Gara teased Dorothy as the young lady departed.
Gara watched the Dorothy’s features and exiting gait with soliloquy;
 “There are still young ladies around here.  My boy, Tobi, does he walk around with his eyes closed?”
Tigba shouted his wife’s name twice, “Rebecca, Rebecca!”
“Any problem?” the wife responded unperturbed.
“Raphy and lady are up to something. Balonwu’s daughter asserted that Raphael said I invited her to the house,” the husband gazed at his listening spouse
“Did you mention your intention to see a young lady while Raphael was around you,? The wife enquired
“Does Raphael think that I will marry his choice of a woman for tobi?  But the lady is beautiful.  I did not know that Balonwu’s daughter has grown into a big lady, a spinster to be admired by young men in the community.” Tingba expressed in an uncommitted tone
“What do you want to do with Baolonwu’s daughter.  You are searching for a rich man’s daughter as partner for your son” Rebecca reminded her husband.
“I am not Baponwu’s banker, so I would not know if he is rich or not but I know that he is well connected.
On the one hand the relationship between Tobi and Zar strengthened while Samson and Cecilia intensified their cooperation in small rewarding projects.    Goma wondered around the Tingba Gara’s family compound with minimum attention from the family members.  Rebecca Gara was in control of the desires of daughter and son just as tigba Gara was thrown in complete darkness on the marriage plan of his grown up children.   As days and months rolled by Tigba and Rebecca Gara’s family enlarged and prospered.  Tobi and Zara Gara, following their wedding, settled in the family compound, occupying prominent positions in decision processes including budget planning for the former and nutrition as well family hygiene for the latter.  The betrothal of Samson and Cecilia consummated in a colourful wedding and the new enterprising family lived in an industrial cluster some few kilometres from the Gara family.  Indeed Tingba and Rebecca Gara evolved into role model grandparents within their expanded communities.
CHAPTER 14

 With exploding human population enjoying enormous economic prosperity, Nigeria continued to depend substantially on imported long grain rice including numerous manufactured and processed food commodities. In view of astronomical costs of processed food imports and the comparative agricultural advantage prevalent in the country, the Federal Government of Nigeria had intensified implementation of Presidential policies on major staple crops consisting of rice, cassava, sugar, wheat, some other grains as well as cotton including tree crops, in particular cocoa.  Rice growing communities in Nigeria have thrived impressively as result of the policy which translated into robust financial support enjoyed by farmers in terms of funded facilities released to them by commercial banks.  Survey released on page 40 of The Guardian Newspaper, Wednesday March 6, 2013 indicated that annual consumption of rice in Nigeria stood at 5.2 million metric tonnes while local output hovered around 3.4 million tonnes with expected rise in consumption to about 35 million tonnes by 2050.  It was stated that in order to boost domestic output and achieve self sufficiency, the Federal Government had instituted price adjustment mechanism aimed at sustaining farm profit in Nigeria.   In the survey report the Chairman of the Presidential Committee, Rice Price Benchmark was optimistic that Nigeria possessed comparative advantage to be self sufficient in rice production indicating that consumption level of local milled rice in rural areas was high and that the commodity was already being exported to neighboring countries.

 By this period, Aluju General Cereals Company had started  encountering intensive competition from influx of foreign farmers, though Africans, who had acquired extensive knowledge of mechanized agriculture on the continent’s farming terrains.  The belt along the River Niger stretching downstream from Jebba through Bacita, Shonga, Pategi, extending to Pada and Lafiagi  has provided the new foreign agro allied entrepreneurs comprising grain growers, millers and dairy farmers with enormous opportunities to maximize crop yields, revolutionize milk production, deliver high financial values thereby improving quality of life and enhancing human capacity in the communities.  Indeed the river basin within hitherto serene Nigeria’s hinterland would rapidly develop into an export hub for agricultural output.