When The Sun Was Mine

Chapter Five

When I was going back home from Capa village, a number of questions came to my mind: How were the people able to live in such a desolate place? How were they able to cope with being so secluded from the outside world? How long could they survive without any access to modern facilities and basic social amenities? And how did they learn to read and write since there was no school in the village? As I was pondering on these questions, the tilapia which I had taken from Lekara and kept in a polythene bag twirled. It was struggling with being in a different world outside the world of the stream, and it reminded me that I was in a different world outside the world of the big city that I was used to.

I told Neka to drive more slowly. The road leading out of Capa was too bumpy and I didn't want the car to become faulty. If the car developed any fault at that time, my mother would complain that we were not being gentle with it. She would complain to my father and that would likely mark the end of my visit to the village. We were in a Range Rover Vogue which my father gifted me on my nineteenth birthday celebration. It was an exquisite car. But I hardly ever drove it except for the past two days that I visited Capa. In the two days, I told Neka to park the car at the entrance of the village, beside the two hills that stood adjacent to each other. The hills made Capa look like a cave. Neka and I arranged it that he would return to the nearest village immediately after dropping me off at the entrance. He would return only when I called him. But there were no signals in Capa so it was not possible to make a call. I would trek a long distance to a place outside the village just to get signals. Then I would call him to come pick me.

Neka did not know about my new friend. It was best if he didn't know about it. He was a potential spy on me. My father had instructed me never to keep close friends with anyone from the village. He had described them as ancient and uncivilized. He had also instructed my mother to make sure I obeyed the instruction to the letter. That was why my mother made sure I wasn't going alone. She insisted that I went with Neka. But I knew Neka loved roasted rabbit so I usually gave him some money to go buy himself some at the nearest village. I let him go with the car and stay there until I called him to come drive me home.

As we drove close to the house where my mother and I were staying, its beauty lighted my eyes for the first time. It was painted white with beautiful patches of cyan and black. I imagined that Capa had houses like that. I had developed interest in Capa through Lekara. I wanted to go there everyday, to learn about the people and their tradition, to understand how people could cope with living in the most undesirable and uncomfortable conditions, and to understand the secrets of how the poorest of people derived joy. I had drawn inspiration from my interactions with Lekara. I was inspired by the way he strived so hard to survive, even as an orphan in the poorest and most alienated part of the world. The fish twirled again in the bag, and it reminded me once again that life was full of struggles. Then I thought of asking Neka how he felt about this part of the world.

"What do you think of these parts of the world, Neka?" I asked.

Neka was our family driver. He was the one who drove my father and mother to work everyday. But now he was with me on a visit to this poor part of the world. He had come on the instructions of my father.

"I would have described them as too terrible, but they house rabbits that are used to make tasty bush meat pepper soup. So I'll simply describe them as not-too-terrible."

The answer he gave reflected his nature. He was the type who considered his interest above everyone else's. He wasn't giving the villages the worst description because he was being treated to the most tasty pepper soup by its inhabitants.

"So the only good thing you see about them is that they house rabbits and equally make tasty pepper soup?"

"What else? They don't have good roads, no schools, in fact they lack good life!", he answered.

"What is your definition of good life?" I probed further.

"Good life means having everything you need"

"Does having schools and tarred roads amount to having good life?"

"They are a part of it. Living in beautiful houses and driving beautiful cars are also a part of it. One also needs to have beautiful clothes and lots of money. Just look at yourself and your parents, Henry, don't you see that you have good life?"

I didn't answer his question because it didn't conform with the ideology which I was beginning to form of life, and we were already at the gate. I didn't want to create room for too much argument. I just stayed quiet.

When we got inside the house, my mother was in the sitting room watching some movies on her phone. She welcomed us and asked me a few questions about how my day went. She also warned me against associating with the village people. She said I could greet them but never to mingle with them, because they were too low for my standard. The agreement with my father was that I could take a stroll through Capa and the surrounding villages just to see what they looked like, but never to make any friends.

My biggest joy was that she didn't ask Neka if he was making sure to always stay around me. That would have messed up my cool evening. I held the polythene bag with my left hand. The fish had stopped twirling. I assumed it had no life in it anymore. Neither Neka nor my mother knew that what I held in the bag was a fish. But I was surprised she didn't ask to know what it was. She was too interested in making sure to remind me never to make any friends in this part of the world and also in the movie she was watching.

After asking me about my day, she went to her room. Neka also went to his. I immediately walked stealthily to the kitchen to prepare the fish. When I brought it out of the bag, a feeling of excitement ran through me. I had caught a fish from a stream in the Capa village. It was a feat I never achieved all the years I lived in the big city of Lagos. I had always wanted to fish and Capa availed me a successful opportunity, yet it was being described as abandoned or forgotten by God.

I was also very grateful to my new secret friend Lekara. He had helped me learn how to fish. Capa had given me good life even when Neka said it had no good life. This became the beginning of my story, the beginning of this story of struggles and triumphant friendship that you are reading now.