LESSONS: CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

One gift nature clearly did not bestow on me is the clear memory of my childhood days. Despite that it was less than two decades ago, most of those activities are buried in the sand of oceans. Yet there are some events that are so etched to the rocky part of memory that I will forever take them with me and maybe to the grave. Two of such are highlighted below. I remember it happened in the evening. I was barely awake as I made my way to the toilet to answer the call of nature. I had barely held the door knob of the toilet when our neighbor emerged from the back of the building; in his hand was a sharp glittering cutlass. I was not seeing Uncle Bosun for the first time neither the cutlass in his hand too. But the way he held it and the murderous look in his eye made him look a different being. Bro Bosun used to be every neighborhood child’s playmate. He was simple, gentle, caring and could take many insults from us children with a smile, but which will generally attract a knock or even a whip from other elders. I was shaking as he passed beside me and went outside. I was too scared to make a move. It took me some minutes before I could regain my composure and it was even a loud yell from outside that woke me up. I ran out more out of fear than eagerness. On the floor covered in blood was the street’s most popular dog; bingo. Bingo’s owner who happened to be a popular hotelier seemed to have gifted him to the whole street. Bingo was popular not only with the adults because it helped in keeping the street safe from thieves but also with we children. Despite its intimidating look and size, it was as friendly as any good friend could be. Everyone loves Bingo! Watching this animal lying in its pool of blood with a man that I have always admired and looked up to as my hero was more than I could take, I busted into tears and ran inside. And sadly I was so angry that I never did talk to Uncle Bosun till he died in a fire accident that burnt just his own room less than a year later. It was not until I was in my second year in the secondary school that I fully understand why Uncle Bosun did what he did that evening and fully agreed with him. A week before the incident Bingo started showing some symptoms which I suspect to be of rabies. He stopped being friendly, started chasing both friend and foes alike. Its aggressiveness later went beyond bond. My grandma’s insistence of always keeping me inside anytime I came back from school did not allow me to know about this. The afternoon of that particular day, Bingo had bitten Uncle Bosun’s only daughter from his dead wife. Actually to say bingo bit the girl is an understatement it was a merciless mauling. It was this that made Uncle Bosun to sentence the crazy canine to death. Whether Uncle Bosun was right or not is a debate for another day. Whether the federal government is right or wrong with the way it is currently handling the modern day Bingo…? well posterity will surely judge. Another incident which I clearly remember occurred during my secondary school days. I remember I was in Jss1 then. A senior class in the school (SSS2 I guessed) decided to take their notoriety to a new level by beating two newly employed teachers. They had tricked the teachers to a bushy part. It was after closing hour when most of the teachers and administrative staffs had gone home. We all watched in awe and fear as they made the teachers to lie down and trash them. The teachers are been taught… We all know there will be backlash the following day, our principal who we fondly refer to as Uncle Shege was not going to take matters lying low. As friendly as he was, the story of his ruthlessness was known to we that our elder sibs passed through him when he was still a vice principal at a neighboring school. To our amazement and to the surprise of many of the class SSS2 especially those that did not participate in the crime, nothing happened the following day. It was not even mentioned on the assembly. Not on the second day and even the third day. Our childish brain had almost forgotten the act but uncle Shege didn’t. It was the first day of the following week; the assembly was almost coming to an end, infact almost all the notorious latecomers are already on the queue that day because the assembly was a little bit longer that morning. A police van drove into the school compound and it had barely stopped when about ten policemen jumped down. Their mission was announced by a big sack which they carried out of their van. It was filled with a notorious cane we nicknamed “pankere”. That day, it was not only people that participated in the dastardly act that suffered the special treatment (though their own was extra special) even we that were unfortunate to watch the act could not sit down properly with our buttock for the rest of the week due to the effect of the caning we had. Till I passed out of the school, I can’t remember seeing a student argue with a teacher let alone raised his hand .If such even occur am sure I won’t wait to watch. God bless uncle Shege wherever he is today. Sometimes I wish he was around to offer our president some tips about dealing with rogue citizens, his way might be ruthless but believe me it works. Can we catch some lessons above? Can we afford to continue the ‘sidon dey look’ approach as the Boko gangs and friends continue to kill in hundreds? The Yoruba have a saying, it is roughly translated thus; when danger enters and takes the son of a poor man the people say trash is leaving the town, a day is coming when it will target the king’s son. Are we waiting till the day these people will probably kill a state governor or even attack the president? God forbid, the time to take on the boko gangs and friends is now! (All except the last paragraph are adapted from my yet to be published book: GROWING THROUGH THE YEARS)