Grace

I grew up knowing that we were not as good as the other people in our village. My father did not even bother trying, his greatest achievement was marrying my mother. He died when I was 9 and my brother was 7. Mother did not remarry. Who would go after the remains of Alloy the Osu?

We were treated with pity and a polite form of stand-offishness. The villagers gave us aid like they were giving alms to the poor. We were not treated like the other orphans in the church, neither was our mother treated like the other widows in the church or community. After her 7 month mourning period, Mama forbade us from collecting anything from anyone. We took to earning our keep by ourselves.

Our situation was one which none spoke about. Mother was not originally an Osu or outcast, her own father as a matter of fact was a titled man, a Chief. He disowned her when she ran away to marry Alloy, my father the Osu. The disowning was not necessary as the marriage to an Osu made she and her children outcasts.

One of our ancestors, from centuries before donated himself and his descendants to Anuokpierigba, the god of seasons. It was during a famine, my father told me. I was about 5 years old. The god required a sort of long term sacrifice. I call it eternal bondage. The ancestor sacrificed not just himself but his entire lineage which meant that he and all his descendants belonged to the god and he enjoyed some privileges that I cannot now imagine but we were to be outcasts forever, a breed less than regular people, ever tainted

Mother loved us as she loved our father. She raised us to be proud of our heritage and strive to always be better than our peers, slave or free. That was how my mind was formed as a child.

It was however not to be so. With every success that came close, three others ran away. With every window that opened up to me, seven doors were shut in my face. It was impossible to become anything at all. Mother did the right thing, she sent us out of the village and remained to watch our fathers little land and property so that it would remain for us.

I worked harder than anyone my age. I served in a distant relative’s shop for nine years instead of the seven that is customary. I did not for once complain. After my day at work, I would study my books. These books I got from Ebele, one of my customers after each academic year. He gave me all his textbooks and even some of his notebooks. I read all the academic work I could lay my hands upon. My master did not complain. I overheard him tell his friend one evening that my love for books took my attention away from stealing his money and even though it was a fool hardy quest, he was okay with it.

I got my own provision store after 9 years. I ensured that my shop was the one to visit. In another 7 years I had a chain of four shops. My former master was first very proud of me then resentful. I did not bother, I was used to it.

I met this lovely girl from Benin and developed strong feelings for her. She was an undergraduate. She was actually in the University. We became friends. Tula was a different breed of woman and she encouraged me on every issue. We got married after her National Youth Service. The illiterate trader and the graduate.

Mother was beside herself with joy. She had advised me to marry far from home, she was glad I did. Tula and Mama hit it off and chittered away like ten year old girls.

We went to the village at the end of that year and we had a jolly good time. I overheard Mama tell Tula one night.

            “The one thing you will do for me Tula, one thing that will make my soul happy and bless you forever.”

            “What is it Mama, if I can do it, consider it already done.” Tula replied.

            “Let him come home and build a house. Make your husband come home and erect a house on his father’s land here. This is his heritage. Let him lay a claim on it. My soul will bless you forever.”

I knew I was going to face Tula’s judgement every day, for the rest of my life till I built the house. It was not an intention of mine to build in the village, I was rather planning to take Mama to the City. I shoved it away.

The next day, mother’s sister came to visit. She seemed really happy to see us. I feel she came to see the car we came home with. I pre-empted her and came with the first car I ever bought, beaten and battered as it was. When Mama went to get refreshments, I heard her talk lovingly to Tula.

            “You are such a nice, sweet, unassuming girl. If I had known you before you married, I would have advised you not to marry into this family. They have age long issues you know.” She swallowed. “They seem nice and ordinary and all but for no fault of theirs, their lives are immersed in a can of worms. I told my sister she was headed for destruction but she didn’t listen.”

I walked into the sitting room just then. The look I gave her was enough to leave her scalded for a long time.

“Thank you Ma, you may leave now. Don’t let us infect you with our wormy existence.” I said to her.

“Do not misunderstand me.” She said.

“Goodbye Ma.” I said.

She left the house in a hurry. Mother was shocked to come back and find her gone. I did not bother telling her anything. We left the village the next day.

Tula started pressuring me to build a house for my father. I built a block of eight flats in Abuja, the Federal Capital for her but it was not enough. She kept on the pressure. I built a small mansion for our family in town and invited my mother to the opening. During the entire event, I could see both of them, with the identical troubled looks on their faces.

I gave in emotionally. I decided to build the house but I would have all the money intact first. Business was paying off. I had the money ready in a year. I hired an Engineer from Lagos to handle the project. He did everything and sent me pictures and the financial updates. The project was completed in 3 months.

I got a call from the traditional ruler of the village one day. He was requesting that the boys paint the palace before they leave. I had completed the building project with funds to spare as the cost of labour was much less and materials were more easily accessible. I had them renovate the palace, modernizing various sections.

I took my family to the village for the house opening. I told my wife we were going for the official foundation laying. She was beside herself with joy. We were all pleasantly surprised when we saw the buildings. I was shocked because it was much bigger than I anticipated or imagined from the pictures. The details were even omitted in the pictures. It was a huge project. My wife and mum were crying and laughing and rolling on the ground in joy. There was a section furnished for my mom, all she had to bring were her boxes of clothes.

I was even more shocked when I saw the Chief’s palace. It looked like something out of a magazine. I knew I had a huge balance to offset to the Lagos boy Engineer.

 The villagers were busy eating and drinking and taking selfies at the dedication ceremony/ house opening. Everyone spoke gaily of the illustrious son of the soil who had all his life been making the village proud. It took me a while to realise I was the one they were talking about.

That was six months ago. I was given a traditional title today. It still shocks me. That little outcast, the Osu that was never going to amount to anything has been given one of the highest titles. My younger brother is even betrothed to the King’s daughter.

I left the celebrations to be alone and think. In this lavish room, I see nothing but the pictures of two women who believed in me against all odds and pushed me to exceed boundaries. I am ever grateful to God for his unspeakable gifts.