CHAPTER ELEVEN
My New Khaki Short
I was growing. Sometimes, my mind told me that Mother was too young to be my Mother. It was only a child’s thinking. In some large families, children were still seen that way. The older children were twice older than their younger ones and sometimes old enough to be their father or mother. I tried being rebellious and stubborn to her and she treated me not like a son but as a young person too.
I saw myself as a young man who daily acquired strength and intelligence. I was more into the jobs meant for men such as splitting of woods, staking of yams, checking our leaking roof, demanding our ration of palm nuts from our kindred men, taking walk all night around the house in event of trouble and caring for the health matters of my younger ones. Mother felt relieved and publicly told her few friends of my personal achievements and contributions in the house. Some were happy while others could only smile. The few who only smiled were her mates. Even though she married long before them, they believed that she was too young to have a grownup son who was helpful to her in every way. She would call regularly and would ring to my young ear that I should know that I had no father and that my life would be different from those of other children; that I must learn as fast as possible to take care of myself and never to disappoint her. These long reminders made me half sleep all night and I was not without fear about the future. But to make her smile I would promise solemnly. Sometimes I failed her.
One morning, there was nothing in our house for us to eat. We would probably live the whole day without good food. My traps had disappointed me and for long it rained unceasingly, so that it was hard to get wood to sell or fish to make soup. The water level had increased also. It was called the third and fourth month of the year and it was hard for poor families to survive these times. Mother never wanted to show that the house was almost empty, but I knew it was. We discussed briefly the initiation into a group for my younger ones which they had grown to attain, the staking of our yams and cleaning of our bushy compound after which she made straight to her room. I threw my goat-skinned bag to my back across my shoulder and went into the early morning dew. Mother came out and learned that I had gone out. She ran after me and asked me to come home and accompany her to the market. I was not too happy but I accepted to go at least to make her happy at that moment. She had kept the load at the corner so that as soon as I come back, she showed them to me. I took her wares on a head load to the market and decided that I would return that evening to my trap which had not been inspected for some days because of the incessant rain and other household distractions.
The orie market day was a big day to the people in my community. The many goods sold at this market beckoned people from surrounding villages. It was the largest market in the surrounding villages. That particular day was not like any other day. It was full and there was a lot of buying and selling going on. Voices of these buyers and sellers were heard very far by people who were coming in with their wares. Everyone in the crowd was talking. Sellers sat in their corner and called buyers and buyers bargained and walked past. From a distance the noise was deep and traveled by the wind to a far end of the entire village. Mother dragged her wares to the midst of the market and stood waiting for the buyers to come and haggle with her. After a short bargain with some she gave in. By the time we finished selling the yams; Mother had counted the money many times, calculating offhand what she would use it for. We had many needs. I was well aware that our home needs were many and money was too little to pay for it all. I shook my head in sympathy for her. But I was happy also that the money was realized by our collective effort though I knew that Mother masterminded everything. It was all to our advantage.
“Come on with me,” she said.
I was pleased that moment. Something good would come out of the invitation. It was uncommon to issues such invitation on a market day with no result.