New People Rice Farms 13 &14

Draft
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 14

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.

CHAPTER 15

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