Sun After Clouds

The Cattlemen's Hegemony

It was a very cold and calmed dawn. Harmattan wind was blowing from the northwest. So, most of the farmers were clutching to their beds, enjoying the morning chill. But Wole, the father of Alake had woken up early as usual and had gone towards the farms path. On his way, he suddenly heard some weird noise, sounding like the ''flop-flop'' flow of a large stream. Wole was aghast! What could produce such unusual noise? A large wild animal? An elephant or buffalo? No, it can’t be! He shook his head. He had experience of wild animals, even though he was not a hunter. He had accompanied his late grandfather who was a hunter on many hunting expenditures as a child. No wild animals sounded that way, he concluded.

A thought came to Wole’s mind to take cover behind an expanse Mahogany tree, which stood at an arm’s length to survey what was coming on. All of a sudden, he saw large herds of cattle and their headers, emerging from a far away bushes. The intruding herdsmen and their destroyer cattle again? Wole exclaimed within himself. Not letting them saw him, he scampered back to the village, his heels almost touching the back of his head. The breeze blew the jumper which he worn, giving him looks of a flying butterfly.

If the herdsmen had seen Wole, they would have chased, caught, over-powered and murdered him. Yes! That is to prevent him from raising alarm in the village. They had done so before in the neighboring villages of Ladele and Damiro. They had butchered to death two farmers they had met on their farms, when they were trying to run and inform other villagers of the impending attack. And the cattlemen had disappeared without any traces as usual.

Immediately Wole got to the village, he went straight to the palace and informed Bale, the King of the village. The King instructed Kakaki, the village town-crier, mouthpiece of the Baale and chief image-maker, to inform the villagers of the looming danger.

''Gom-gom-gom…’’ the deep sounds of Kakaki’s hollow metal gong, hitting by his stick, took over the peaceful morning air of Awoye. The sounds of the Metal gong means there is an important message to be heard. All the villagers knew that.

So, like rats out of their holes, the village's, men and women, young and old stooped out of their huts. They were all dazzled by the unusual morning public summon. What could be the issue again? They asked rhetorically. So, their hands clasped behind their backs or chests, they clustered around Kakaki like rain-drenched chicks around a mother hen, to hear the breaking news.

''My great people of Awoye, Baale, the ruler of this village, sent his greetings to you all!’’ Kakaki hailed and paused for effect.

The villagers responded to the greeting in unison, saying, ''we greet the King!’’ or ''May he live long on the throne of his ancestors!’’

A loud murmur followed the greetings. Most of the people murmuring were women, complaining that they had been hindered from their usual morning chores by Kakaki's gong.

Kakaki’s small and red eyes were darting in their sockets as he kept silent, steering around the crowd as if his sight could seal the villagers' lips. He was very slim, dark and tall, but not too tall. Totally irreconcilable were his voice and physique. The former sounded like a large cannon, while the later looked like a barrel of gun. His neck and legs always remembered the villagers of an ostrich. So they would laugh silently or smile whenever they saw him. They dared not try that publicly, though. It was an offence for an ordinary subject to openly mock, harass or insult a chief or the ruler's messengers in Awoye. If apprehended and found guilty by the council of the Baale and chiefs, huge fines of two robust gourds or kegs of pure palm wine, fifty fat tubers of yams and a basket of kola-nuts would be paid by the culprit. Or else, he or she would face one year exile.

''We beg of you, Kakaki, be fast about the message!’’

Who had the gut to break into Kakaki’s short silence was Alade, a high-profiled Chief, wealthy farmer and money lender. His voice was full of pride and disgust as he spoke. These were showed in the way he raised his shoulders and waved his index finger toward Kakaki’s eyes.

''Don’t say you summoned all of us here in the village centre just to give us unsolicited greetings from the Baale!’’ Alade continued backing after a brief grave-yard-silence. ''You know morning is very important in this village because most of us are farmers. We can’t afford to waste it! Okay?!’’

Mixed feelings trailed Alade’s interruption. Some of the villagers hummed in his support, saying, ''you’ve spoken well, Chief''. Some blamed Alade, not for spoken out but the manners in which he had spoken out. They cited a popular adage in Awoye which says, ''sorry has positive and negative kinds.'' A sorry said with an irritated tone, is not as appealing as the one said with friendly tone.

''The cats do not lap on hot oil. I am not talking about the unwise cats.'' Kakaki’s anecdote was a shot at Alade and everybody knew that. Though, Kakaki looked unconcerned and faraway before letting the shot out. Thinking his shot did not hit the mark well enough, Kakaki added another one slowly, words by words.

''A...wise...man...must...chew...his...hot...yam with...patience...or...have...his...mouth...riddled...with...burnt. This message I brought is not a cold one at all, so require patience before telling it out. My wise people of Awoye, should I continue giving you the message from my lord or not?’’

''Please go on, we are all ears!’’ The villagers chorused impatiently. Many were having wrinkles of worry on their faces. The news would not be pleasant one, they thought. It was obvious in the careful manners in which Kakaki spoke and behaved.

''Now listen, war is at our door-steps!’’

''War?’’ The people all screamed at once in surprise.

''Yes, war!’’ As if the villagers were ignorant of the harm war could cause, Kakaki stressed on the word ''war’’, the veins of his neck stood out like yam tendrils on a pole.

Feeble-minded people among them had started shuddering in panic. They had anticipated unpleasant news but not as dreaded as war.

''The King instructed me to inform the brave men and women,’’ Kakaki continued after a brief pause for effect, ''all and sundry of this village to meet him in the palace with immediate effect. He said you must come along with every weapon you could lay your hands on…’’

''Kakaki, Kakaki,” loudly, Alade called from the crowd again with his accustomed pompous and rude manners, “which village are we going to war with again in this modern era, eh?’’

Kakaki glared at him, shook his head and hissed silently in irritation.

Alade turned from him, faced the crowd and continued his speech unconcerned. “Most of the deadly wars our forefathers had fought against our neighboring villages were because of lands. Just mere farmlands O! How much do lands cost, eh? Only I, the great Chief Alade, could purchase all the lands in these villages without sweating! Those wars were fought because our fore fathers were poor and uncivilized. Ours is wealthy and civilized generation, so we must not imitate them. We have tasted the hot soup of civilization, brought to us by the European colonialists. Though it burned our tongues, but it opened our eyes to many evils deeds we had counted as good. Things like lands dispute wars, communal clashes, killing of twins, human sacrifices to our idols and marking the fleshes of stillbirth babies that were practiced by our forefathers; had been abolished by the white men. So, we must not go back to them anymore!''

The people’s loud grumble abruptly stopped Alade from speaking further. Though some of them thought he was saying the right thing. But shouldn’t he have waited for the right time? They had asked themselves. War is at their doorsteps according to Kakaki, was that the right time for Alade to be given them after-supper tale? Why not allowing Kakaki to complete his duty first?

Well, if looks could be daggers, Alade would have been slaughtered by Kakaki’s aggressive looks. He thought if Alade wasn’t a chief in the village, he would report him to the Baale for obstructing his message. But his hands were tied. Alade was not only a chief but the wealthiest man in Awoye. Even the Baale feared to toy with him, let alone an ordinary low-income and low-rank chief like Kakaki. Solemnly, he continued his speech after the murmur had died down.

''Like I have said before, only the wise cats lap the hot oil with patience,’’ he cleared his throat, wiping unseen sweats from his brows, trying to put-off the shadow of shame that Alade had casted on him with his disrespectful interruption. “Wise people of Awoye, the war I was talking about is not coming from our neighboring villages, but from the cow men.’’

''Cow men?” the villagers screamed in terror-striking voices. The name symbolized untold doom to them.

''Yes, the cow men and their cows who had appeared like masquerades many times past, invaded and destroyed our farmlands, are walking freely in our bushes as I speak. A farmer, Adewole, had come to inform us a short while ago. So, all our hands must be on deck to teach them a bitter, unforgettable lesson or they destroy our crops utterly; leaving us to face huge hardship and hunger throughout this year.’’

The people hummed aloud again, capitalising on Kakaki’s short pause. Many were saying they must put an end to the menace that day, with once-and-for-all approach. They must go all out and rout them out by the use of force. However, some were humming against war, saying it wasn’t the best solution. They should invite the cattlemen and dialogue with them.

''We are Awoye!” Kakaki continued his speech, in a more encouraging and bold way, his eyes widened like a hungry cat. He overheard the stances of those in support and against going to war. “Our forefather, Awoola, was a known and feared warrior in all the villages around us! He never dialogue with enemies of our land but spoke to them the language they best understood which was war...''

''War?'' the people asked in chorus.

''Yes, war!'' replied Kakkaki. ''We children of the great Awoola must follow his steps and must not be cowed before mere cow men. We shall speak to them the language which they will understand. With our fists and feet, not with tongues we shall chase them all away from our farms and bushes. Have I spoken well, yes or no?’’

The thunderous yell of “yes, you have spoken well!” that followed his statements shook the ground of the village square and the enormous baobab tree sheltering them. Kakaaki continued beating his gong “gom…gom…gom…” as he hurried away from the crowd towards the palace.

Meanwhile, all the men in Awoye, including the Baale and chiefs accompanied Wole to the bush where he had seen the numerous bands of cattlemen and their cattle. All the farmers and hunters combined, carrying different caliber of weapons like locally-fashioned guns, bows and arrows, machetes, even some few brave women accompanied the men, carrying their ladles and pestles.

Eventually, the villagers succeeded in chasing the herdsmen and their cattle away from the farms. The incident had happened 10 years past, but the cattlemen and their cattle were never seen or heard anywhere near Awoye village, its farms or bushes.

So, the farmers, chiefs and Baale were so grateful to Wole for saving them from the destructive onslaught of the herdsmen. After the dust of the herdsmen’s scuffle had settled, the next day, they all trooped out to thank him in his compound situated at one extreme end of Awoye village.