Cracks on the Wall

By Sampson E Ajah

Cracks on the Wall satirises a contemporary African society wherein lie rich culture and tradition. However, cracks in almost all facets of the society-education, politics, tradition and culture among others are depriving average Africans of the benefits. The book is aimed at calling the attention of the young adults to the decay and the consequences of playing along.
EXCERPTS
"Let me tell you, when a cunning man dies, another cunning man would bury him.’
‘My father, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to shy away from my responsibility. But it is said that a snake seen by only one man, appears like a python to him. I know I owe you a lot, I shall reward you.’
‘Indeed, you shall reward me with my goat. I see. However, I would have given you one but my daughter shall be given in marriage soon. According to the custom, my in-law will take one. For the rest…, in fact, I’m not sure I can help.’
There is a lot to learn from the teacher-student relationship.
"What sorts of students are these, she thought. Her mind quickly travelled back to her undergraduate days, especially her romance with the head of department. If not for the relationship between her and the man, she might not have graduated at the expected time. She might have carried over two courses as usual but the departmental head influenced the lecturers and now she is earning her beautiful salary. For Chika, the end justifies the means. However, she was not happy with these two students. She thought the boy was immature and dependent - still under the tutelage of his parents and so, could not even cater for himself let alone another person; a girl of her status for that matter. Her unclear conscience, however could not allow her go further in restricting the offenders…“
And the book was summarized in this paragraph:
"Umah was thrown off balance. Cracks have developed on the walls of his family, ever since his ill-fated contact with the fetish priest. Just like cracks on the wall of a building which make it prone to fall as well as hide lizard, snake, wall gecko and many more, any cracks in the society, if left unattended, could give birth to unpredictable circumstances"
From scholars:
"The story is well told, very thrilling, illuminating and laced with well-crafted prose. It takes one back home, reminiscent of rustic life in the village"
- Dr. Nwoba Hyacinth A, PhD
“I enjoyed this book because it was entertaining, the story was full of lessons on the necessity to avoid cracks in our home, in our educational system, religion, politics, our culture and tradition and on our health system. It also has more than enough action to keep my attention span. Therefore, I found this book to be very well thought out and well written. The writer finely drew the character that pulls readers loyalties in different directions. This work of fiction confirms the author’s exceptional gifts.
One of my favourite parts was when Umah did not sleep waiting for the second cock crow in the morning to catch the person that bewitched the wife as instructed by the native doctor.”
-Dr. Ogodo J. O, PhD
“Cracks on the Wall is a captivating story. It is highly didactic and has a good ending. The conclusive part is relieving and has succeeded in dowsing the suspense.”
-Okafor Uchenna, MA, English
“The book is highly recommended… It is a piece of literary genre that will enhance their creativity and English Language and Literature studies”
-Ikechukwu Kingsley Agu, PhD

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rhyce Kerex Publishers
• Release date: Jun 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9788835845140

Book preview

Author

Sampson E. Ajah

© Sampson E. Ajah

[e-mail]

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission of the copyright owner or the publishers.

Fiction

All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real vicinities, events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

This literary piece is dedicated to

my late parents,

Chief John Igwe Ajah and

Mrs. Roseline Ivo Ajah

and to all former students of

Ishiagu High School.

Chapter One

It was on Friday eve , when Umah returned home from his palm plantation. He was extremely tired after such a tedious day; clearing the borders of the farm as a safeguard against bush burning. That year, rain had withdrawn early. By the end of October, most grasses were already dry and had turned brown. Umah has been working on the farm since a fortnight. Often, he thought he was overstressing himself. However, his consolation was that his second son, Ikenna, would soon join him after the Common Entrance Examination which will mark the end of his primary school programme. Such thoughts usually gave him bursts of joy. Their school still engaged the pupils in such tests, though it was becoming obsolete.

Umah’s compound was a three-room home left behind by his parents. The fence was a combination of ogilisi plants and bamboo, while old zinc at the entrance served as the gate. His mother, Ugochinyere, the namesake of Umah’s last daughter, died few years after the death of her husband, Aneke. Two years before the demise of his father, the elder sister got married but the younger and last-born lived with Umah and his family in their parent’s house until she got married.

‘Who is in this house!’ echoed Umah.

‘Is there nobody here?' He was becoming more impatient than ever, his shrill voice ringing through the neighbourhood. He had just brought down a nylon bag, which was narrowly balanced on top of the log of wood that sat on his head, when he heard a tender voice say,

‘Papa welcome!’ Though he understood it was his daughter, Chioma, Umah ignored her presence for the time being, until he had finally thrown the load to the ground. The consequent noise was heavy and echoed throughout the neighbourhood, causing the neighbours to wonder aloud what the matter was.

‘Papa Amaechi!’ roared a man from the small group which suddenly gathered.

‘Why must you shorten your lifespan with too much labour? Have you forgotten that a child who is fund of eating akara is not doing any other thing than spending its money? How many times should I warn you? Too much hard work stresses a man, causing him gradual emaciation until he dies young? Your eldest child is not up to nineteen, yet you look older than a chimpanzee that has outlived its age. Ever since your father went to the world beyond, I took it upon myself to advise you, but you pay no heed,’ Ugwu concluded visibly angry with Umah.

Ugwu was a friend to Umah’s father, Aneke. They were intimate friends from youth and went to farm together. In the village square, each never went without the other, especially during the new yam festival. Those days, Umah would run from one palm wine tapper to another, looking for palm wine for his father and Ugwu and he was always commended for his swift-footedness in running errands. Because of the way Aneke and Ugwu related, so close to each other, people had imagined that they might equally have shared their wives too. But they did not.

Aneke planted palm trees with the help of his friend, Ugwu. Being the only son in a family of four, Umah customarily inherited the plantation and it has been his major source of livelihood. For several years, he tried but failed in shoe trade. He was not privileged to pass through the four walls of any formal institution where he could have obtained the white man’s knowledge and wisdom. His father was strongly convinced that the teachers and big boys might beat his only son to death and had Umah withdrawn from school at primary three. At the school, anyone who failed a given arithmetic would be thrashed, he was told, or so he thought.

Umah’s mind quickly rambled as he remembered the bitter-sweet days of his late father. He was sitting on a long bench in front of the three-room mud house with old zinc on top that served as the roof. This same house was also an inheritance from his father. Umah’s mother had died earlier, when he was still a child.

He coughed and heaved a sigh of relief as he peered around. The spectators had all retired to their homes save the threatening presence of Chioma, his eldest daughter.

‘Where is your mother? What has she been doing? Is she well at all?’ The innocent child could not supply answers to such a barrage of questions. She merely stood still, moped at her father, mouth agape. At last, she summoned