Sun After Clouds

The Lonely Father and Daughter.

Wole’s compound was small but large enough to contain his small mud hut and a tent-like kitchen. The hut and the kitchen were roofed with thatches. Besides the kitchen was a roofless bathroom constructed with palm fronds and wooden poles, and a basket-like barn for storing harvested farm products. Near the barn was a big stone. Wole had kept it there for the purpose of sharpening his farms tools, most especially machetes.

Now, Wole has finished cleaning his teeth. Having checked the chopped chewing stick and found that it has become too short to be kept for another day, he flung it away. He would get another one on his way to the farm, he thought, perhaps they were not for sale. They were just branches of mere young trees in the bushes. But not all trees branches could be used as chewing sticks because some trees were poisonous. But still, the special crispy trees with nice tastes, sweet aroma and medicinal contents, whose tiny branches were used as chewing sticks, were ubiquitous in the bushes.

Wole bent down besides the stone and began to sharpen his machete and hoe one after the other. The ''clang-clang'' sound the iron tools was making against the stone, echoed around the vicinity. He stopped at intervals to savor the blades of the tools with his index fingers. That was to see if they’re sharpened to his desired tastes.

''Oh yes!’’ He exclaimed satisfactorily as he strengthened himself up. He addressed the machete and hoe as if they were humans and could hear him, ''finally, you’re ready for today’s work!’’.

As he was entering the hut to put on his farm clothes, another thing came to his notice. The compound has not been swept yet! On the ground were heaps of dried leaves. The previous night wind had blown them into the compound from the nearest bushes. That has made Wole realize that Rolake hasn’t come out of her room yet. What could be keeping her late on bed to this time? It was not part of the habits of the 12 years old child to stay so long in bed, lazily. Something must have gone amiss, he concluded.

There were only two rooms in their hut. Rolake’s room was adjacent of Wole’s, divided by a spacious quadrilateral corridor which served as their parlor. Meanwhile, Wole knocked on the door of Rolake’s room twice but there was no response. His heart heaved up in suspense. Why’s she not responding? He would find out soon. Promptly, he gave it a right-hand push, and it went ajar, making a creaking sound.

The room was small and crappy. There were only four major types of items there; a bamboo bed, a wooden stool, an old kerosene lantern and Rolake’s clothes. Sometimes ago, Wole had driven some nails to the mud walls to serve as clothes hangers for her, to prevent her clothes, especially school uniforms from ruffling. Since there was no electricity anywhere near Awoye, electronic irons were nowhere to be found. Only charcoal irons were available. And they were too valuable for low-scale farmers like Wole to procure.

Rolake was sleeping soundly on her bamboo bed when Wole barged in. He kicked the side of the bed with his right foot. The poor girl sprawled and increased the ''gear'' of her sleep. Unconsciously and furiously, her right leg flung over the stool which the deem-light lantern was standing on. She almost kicked the stool and lantern away. The sound of Wole’s kick against her bed sounded like the noise of the troublesome mice to her sleepy ears.

''It is daybreak already. You should be up by now, my daughter,” Wole said, parting her shoulder blade with the tender touch of a loving father. But, realizing his voice was too mellow to wake her up; he increased it in an octave. ''You’re getting late for school, Rolake, common rise up to your feet at once!’’

In the midnight, hundreds of mice had played hide and seek around Rolake’s bed. Their noises have prevented her from having enough sleep. One unscrupulous mouse even tried to nibble on her Achilles heel. It has fanned her feet with the air from its nose, soothing her to make her sleep deeply so it could nibble on her freely. But fortunately for Rolake, she was awoken and brave enough to kick the troublesome mouse away! Afterwards, she lost her sleep for fear of the mice coming to feast her legs again. For hours, she couldn’t sleep a wink before an unexpected slumber shut her brows. She was covering for her lost sleep time, having a nice dream when her father woke her up.

In her dream, Rolake was in a hospital, bigger than the village’s maternity clinic in hundred places! She was looking all grown up like a maiden, dressed in white robe and a stethoscope hanging around her neck as would the village’s doctor, Williams. There were many pregnant women and patients with different kinds of ailments in the hospital’s waiting hall, calling unto her honorably.

''Doctor Rolake, we plead to you, come and attend to us…’’

She was about attending to a pregnant woman in travails when her father woke her up, interrupting her sweet dream. The noise her father made near her bed, she had unconsciously taken to be from the troublesome mice. Hence, she threw her legs towards where the noise was emanating from. She wanted to kick the non-present mice away; not knowing it was the lantern on the stood she had wanted to kick.

Rolake has risen up from bed now, but sleep still hung on to her eyes like drenched apparel on a line. She staggered to pick something from the stool top, beside the lamp. It was a chewing stick. But she didn’t actually know what it was at first. Though, she had kept it there the previous morning herself. She only knew she needed that thing that moment, so she had picked it and put it in his mouth, unconsciously. Meanwhile, she stretched, bent, stood and wiped her eyes with her backhands, believing that would wipe-off the sleep clinging onto them. But it was a futile effort. Sleep was still heavy in her eyes. So, she had her body rapped in an oversized Ankara blanket, staggered like a breeze-blown leaf in a Harmattan morning to genuflect before Wole.

''Good...Good morning, father,’’ she stuttered out.

''Good morning, my lovely daughter, hope you woke up well?’’

''Yes…yes, father, thank you.’’

'=But you woke up so late this morning. That is very unusual of you. Are you sure there is no problem at all?’’

''No…not at all, father, all is well. I’m very much alright.’’

As if Wole’s questions were an antidote that cures dizziness, all of a sudden, sleep went off Rolake’s eyes totally.

Meanwhile, an urge sprouted in her mind, telling her to reveal her sweet dream. No. She declined. She had been having and revealing the same dream to her father for long. Hearing it again might bore him. But would this dream come to pass? She doesn't know yet. She really wanted to become a doctor in future.

What about the battle between her and the unscrupulous mice? No. That one won’t be strange to him either. Perhaps, that would not help matters. Mice attacks were popular occurrence in the village. She had been lucky, no mouse had ever nibbled on her legs, to the extent that blood would gush out and later turned into a sore. It had happened to many villagers, including Wole, many times. When they forgot to cover their legs with clothes or jute sacks, the mice had come from nearby bushes and had nibbled on their heels, having searched the huts for food in vain. They had mercilessly nibbled and swallowed the thick fleshes on their heels in place of food.

Promptly, Rolake left to start the usual morning chores. Picking a broom she had kept at the back of the door the previous morning, she yawned wildly as she backed out, peering into the atmosphere outside the hut which had become bright.

Wole was still standing in front of the bamboo bed, staring at it thoughtfully. A despondent smile appeared on his face. The sight of the inanimate object reminded him of Alake, his late wife, and how it had come into existence.

''How time speeds fast full of bitter sweet experiences,’’ Wole muttered aloud, sighing heavily as the smile gradually vanished from his round, dark face, creasing into a deep, sorrowful frown.

Before marriage, Wole had been using Bamboo bed without mattress. But after marriage, he had wanted to impress his new bride with the trending wooden frame beds and mattresses. So, one afternoon after returning from his farm, he went to meet Alani, the only carpenter in the village for the wood work. Alani charged him twelve naira. But unfortunately, Wole had gotten seven naira only. He pleaded with Alani to allow him deposit the seven naira and owed him five naira, which he would pay during the next harvesting period. The carpenter accepted the bargain. But, when Alake heard of it, it displeased her so much.

''Oh no, my husband, twelve naira isn’t little money,’’ Alake said convincingly, her brows creased in worry. ‘’We shouldn’t waste so much money on mere beds alone. Perhaps, it doesn’t sound well to carry debt on our neck while we sleep on the modern bed. I think it will be better if you can construct the type of bamboo bed you’ve been using for me, too. They’re easy to acquire because bamboos are everywhere in the bushes and not bought like planks from trees. Many of the new couples like us in this village are making use of them. My beloved, we can spend the money on more productive ventures. We can use it to buy more seedlings for your farm.’’

Wole reasoned with Alake’s opinion and took it into consideration. He thanked her for being a good and understanding wife and constructed a bamboo bed for her with his own hands shortly afterwards.

Rolake has finished all the morning chores now. She has cleaned her mouth with her chewing stick and taken her bath with the steam she had fetched the previous night. She has even gotten dressed-up for school. Her readiness was what she came to inform her father of. But Wole was still pondering over the bamboo-bed and his late lover.

''Father,’’ Rolake piped out,’’ father, I am fully ready for school!”

''Oh, I see!’’ Wole exclaimed, jerking up from his day-dream. He struggled and lighted up the cloud hanging heavily on his face. ''That is very good of you, my princess. Have you taken your breakfast?’’

''Yes, father. I have also left yours on the fire in an enamel pot so that it won’t get cold.’’

‘’Oh, you always know what I want!’’ Wole praised Rolake ‘’I don’t like eating cold left-over yam porridge. You’re a very caring daughter.'’

''Thank you father,’’ Rolake responded with wide smiles, feeling on top of the world.

''You are welcome, my daughter.’’ Wole parted her head affectionately, ‘’ hope you ate to your fill?’’

''Yes, father, I did.’’

''Good! I am about to eat mine in the kitchen now. Go and sit down and wait for me in the parlor. I shall see you off to your school road before going to my farm. You do love that, don’t you?’’

''I do, father, thank you,’’ Rolake said, excitedly. She admired her father’s company so much.

After taken his breakfast, Wole and Rolake left the village behind them. But Alake’s thoughts still glued to his mind like a big hump on a hunchback. He kept on thinking how they had met, how they had lived together, what led to her death….