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The Seed That Must Grow
The Seed That Must Grow
The Seed That Must Grow
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The Seed That Must Grow

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The Seed That Must Grow is a story of a young girl who gets married at the age of fourteen. She goes through so many challenges in her life despite her enormous effort to put things in order. Her hard work and determination makes her to discover her self-worth through education. Solii’s first marriage to Tomla reveals her strong character despite her age and this trait is further exposed as she decides to go to school after the break-up of her marriage. Although she has so many challenges in her school life, she can still weather the storm since her love for knowledge is stronger than all the challenges she goes through. Despite the bitter experience in her first marriage, she decides to try her luck once more and marries Mr. Kimo, her former teacher; but as fate will have it, this second marriage becomes even worse than the first one. Having attained some degree of maturity, these mishaps do not deter this go-getter from attaining her goal which is getting herself into a professional institution of learning that guarantees employment, job security and empowerment.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 30, 2019
ISBN9781728395425
The Seed That Must Grow
Author

So´lii

Solii is a university graduate with a B.A. in English Modern Letters and she is also a holder of a diploma from the Higher Teacher Training College. She has taught in the Secondary and High school and also in the Teacher Training College. Presently she is the Pedagogic Adviser for Teacher Education and she also holds a professional development certificate for administrators in the field of English Language Teaching from the New York State University at Buffalo, USA. She is a member of ILA (International Literacy Association) since 2004 and has served in the Teacher Educator Award committee for two years. She has attended conferences on literacy and education in many African countries and abroad and has received grants and an award from ILA for playing her part in promoting literacy. She is also a member of PALFA (Pan African Literacy For All), an organization that promotes literacy in Africa. She loves working with children and children’s literature and she is a board member for a local NGO that works for the advancement of children’s literacy. She loves reading and writing and she is also a consultant and translator of stories in the African story book project, www.africanstorybook.org.

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    The Seed That Must Grow - So´lii

    © 2019 Sóliì. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 11/30/2019

    ISBN: 978-1-7283-9543-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-7283-9542-5 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Chapter Twelve

    Chapter Thirteen

    Chapter Fourteen

    Chapter Fifteen

    Chapter Sixteen

    Chapter Seventeen

    Chapter Eighteen

    Chapter Nineteen

    Chapter Twenty

    Chapter One

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    I was fourteen when a young man from one of the villages of my clan came to ask for my hand in marriage. I was not aware about what marriage meant at that age because I had never loved someone before. This man lived in one of the suburban towns in Nigeria called Yola and he owned a business to earn a living. Feeling that he was ready for marriage, he came back home and his choice was me.

    I had gone to a farm that was a stone throw from our house. I had worked for about three hours and was about to sit down and rest. Then I saw two men approaching the farm. I knew one of them very well who was an elder in the church. He attended the same church our family worshiped and happened to be my father’s friend. One of them was younger and looked handsome. To show some respect, I moved towards them and greeted courteously. Their response was very warm. When they asked about my mother and l told them that she had gone to a different farm, I could read disappointment on their faces. After asking a few questions about my family they retreated; It was only months later that this unusual visit made sense to me. It was a spy mission.

    My parents were staunch believers, almost puritan in their adherence to their religion. Everybody in my family was a member of this faith. In fact, I was a child when my father was converted into this new religion and I grew up to be part of it. It was unheard of for a member to marry out of the congregation.

    The young man who visited me at the farm was in search of a wife. He was also a member of this same congregation and this facilitated our union. My parents felt that the man being guided by church laws and doctrine would take care of me despite my age making sure I would experience matrimonial bliss. I obeyed my parents and traditional negotiations began.

    The day reserved for this type of visits was usually a traditional Sunday, a day nobody is allowed to go to the farm. On this day, it is believed the gods of the farm go on errands and make their own sacrifices. Instead, people on this day organize celebrations or visits to families.

    I was to visit my grandfather on one of these traditional Sundays. Tómla with about six of his relatives joined me in our family compound. They had brought palm wine and kolanuts(an African nut usually in lobes and harvested from a tree) for the occasion. When palm wine and kolanuts were not present during an occasion it was considered unimportant. My grandfather had been informed about the coming of some visitors so he had been waiting. They were heartily welcomed by some elders of the family and given seats in the compound hall. Later on my grandfather arrived, greeted everybody and sat down. He turned to me and asked,

    Sóliì, who are these people?

    Grandfather they are my people, I replied.

    What have they come here for?

    They have come to see you father, I said.

    See me, what for?

    I was quiet, and he continued, Ha! She is no longer talking. She has brought people and she will not talk. Are these people not coming for you?

    They are coming for me grandfather.

    Are you ready for marriage Sóliì? Do not be scared that I am asking too many questions. The joy in me makes me ask lots of questions. He turned to his guests and said, I am glad to welcome all of you here. Wherever there is a hen you will always find a cock around.

    Welcome my kinsmen

    I want to tell you that members of this family are just baby sitters to this child. You have done the right thing to come but you have to start negotiations from elsewhere before coming back to us. Go to Meluf, this child’s mother’s village, meet her mother’s family and appease them before you can come back to us. For the drinks and kola that you have brought, we are going to pay back a token to show that we have taken nothing from you when the real people had not yet been placated. This is our tradition.

    Saying this he took an old handkerchief from his pocket. The original white color had changed to brown or almost black as a result of smoke and snuff. He unfolded it and removed some coins from it and gave to Tómla’s people as payment for the drinks.

    One of them stood up and said, We want to thank the family head of this compound for his kind words of welcome and his desire to enlighten us on some of our customs. One who asks for the way always finds it. We came asking for the way and we have been shown it. We want to thank you very much and to tell you that we will come back with feedback from Meluf.

    There was a round of applause and nodding of heads for approval. My grandfather had asked some of his wives to prepare some food. Corn fufu (a paste made from corn flour and hot water) with vegetables and drinks was served. Everybody ate, drank and made merry. The compound hall was buzzing with excited people eating kolanuts and drinking palm wine and having side conversations. When the feasting was over, they all dispersed and we started making plans for our trip to Meluf.

    The day we had chosen to go to Meluf arrived and the procedure is known to be quite easy. After the formal greetings, I was asked to pour palm wine into one of the big pots standing at the center of the hall. Following the tradition, cups were shared to everybody and I was asked to stand up. My cup was filled with palm wine by my grandfather. He asked me to drink only half of the contents of the cup and give the rest for Tómla to finish. When this was done, there was a round of applause and then everybody was served with drinks. The hall was fully packed but I knew only the people I came with. I wondered how related I was to these strange people. While back home, I asked my mother how related we were to that compound and was simply told it was the custom that all first daughters go back to their mothers family for marriage negotiations and bride price. That was strange to me.

    It was quite a fruitful expedition. When we finally came back to my paternal grandfather everything ended well and as planned. I was now traditionally married to Tómla but I did not know that I had to love him first.

    Tómla decided to go back to Yola and prepare for the arrival of his wife. Three months later, he sent a friend who was trading between this town and Cameroon to bring me along when coming for one of his business trips. I was so excited but my excitement was more because I was going to a different country than to meet my husband.

    When the day for my departure finally arrived, it dawned on me that I was leaving my family for good and I felt very bad; completely lost appetite and nothing seemed interesting. When the time to leave finally arrived, I cried like a baby for I was still one. My mother cried with me. My brothers and sisters were still too young and could hardly tell what was going on. At one point, I said I was not going any longer and it took a lot of begging, petting and pleading from my mother before I could be convinced once more. When my guide finally said it was time to go, I left like someone groping in the dark towards an invisible light. Why was I going to meet this man? Did I really know what I was doing or I just wanted to please my parents? In fact my body was going to Nigeria but my spirit stayed in Cameroon. The journey took almost four days.

    Chapter Two

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    T he land rover was the only vehicle that could plod the unpaved road to Yola. It rattled along the ripples on the road sending clouds of dust behind, which gradually settled on plants and trees by the side of the road and roof tops of houses alongside the road. Meanwhile the severity of the sun on the iron roofs reflected the heat and sent it back into the air. The country side was dry and very few people were on the road. As the season for planting was approaching, dark grey clouds of smoke could be seen here and there as fire ate up the dry grass to clear the ground for digging and planting. Cattle were at safe distance from the fire.

    All I could hear was the humming of the land rover. The road wound on for another half a mile and I felt quite drowsy. I yawned and rubbed my wet eyes with the back of my left arm. I tried to think but what was I to think about? My mind wondered and settled on a quarrel that I once witnessed between the headmaster of our school and the wife. She had simply asked the husband to tell her why he loved staying out so late and coming back only when she had gone to bed with the kids. The man simply told her off and said it was none of her business to spy on him. More to that he called her an illiterate who does not deserve to be called the headmaster’s wife. He told her to thank her gods that he had covered his face and blindly picked her as a partner and was not ready to take any insolence from her. This annoyed the wife so much that she had aimed a deadly blow with a pestle at her husband but missed the target. This prompted the man to beat her severely. The thought of it made me shudder.

    After what seemed like a very long and unending ride through the rough roads our land rover crossed into Nigeria. You could tell from the difference in the road; it was well tarred, but it was also interspersed with unsuspected treacherous potholes. Cars of various designs and of various stages of decay drove past noisily leaving behind black sickening fumes in the air. The sky was clear and clean, a space less blue dome. The weather conditions were alternating. Now it is fresh and the next minute it is disturbed and fumed. Birds flew past and twittered.

    Our car was gliding through the heart of a big town. I had never seen one like it before. The buildings were quite impressive. I saw a storey building for the first time in my life and marveled at the skill of the architect. There were big shops full of very tempting and captivating items for sale. The businesslike nature of the place overwhelmed me most but I was not in the position to evaluate the proceedings for I knew nothing. Everybody seemed to be quite busy and I was just marveled at people. When it got dark we stayed the night and the next day we found ourselves back on the road with everything almost the same as the previous day. The towns looked alike but some areas were cold while others were very hot. On the fourth day we arrived our destination at dusk.

    Tómla was happy to see me. He ran around and informed a few friends who came to greet me. Their hand shake was firm and welcoming. Tómla bought some drinks for entertainment. What was meant to be a simple welcome party turned into a grand occasion? When some neighbors heard the noise and the jubilation, they came out to find out what was happening and joined.

    As the men were drinking and having fun, one of the women ran to her house nearby and came back with two small drums and drumsticks made of Indian bamboo. As she started beating one of the drums and singing in her dialect, she looked straight into my eyes. It was a reassuring look, an invitation of welcome to Nigeria. I stared at her tongue-tied, because the music was good though she was singing and playing the drum alone. The other women soon joined in the singing. One of them decided to play the other drum while the others just sang and clapped their hands to the rhythm of the music. One of them was my father’s sister. I was encouraged to join in the clapping and I shyly did just so.

    One of the elderly men stood up, cleared his throat and said, My brothers and sisters, we are all gathered here to welcome our brother’s wife. We have been with Tómla for a while and we do not consider him just as a friend. To us he is a brother. The acceptance was unison from the audience. He turned to me and said, Welcome my daughter. We know you have come from very far leaving your parents and family behind but from today we are your parents and we promise to take good care of you. Our hearts are fluttering like butterflies and we are happy to see you. The next thing we expect to hear is the cry of a baby in this house.

    There was a general round of applause and he sat down. Tómla stood up and thanked everyone for honoring his invitation and promised to take good care of his wife. When the people dispersed, I had a bath and went to bed because I was very tired. My first disappointment with the place was that it was too hot, humid and had mosquitoes.

    Tómla loved and petted me. At times he would look intensely at me as if to say looking elsewhere I would disappear. He was proud to introduce me to his friends and seemed satisfied when they praised me in one way or the other. When we went to the market to buy food I tried using the Nigerian currency and he would help me since he had been there for long. I tried to find out if he could speak the language most people spoke in that area,

    Tómla how long have you been here?

    Five years, he said.

    Can you speak the language?

    Just a few words, he replied.

    The language must be difficult, I said.

    Yes it is. But if you are a fast learner it will be quite easy. Do you like it? he asked.

    I think it is quite good. I’ll try to learn it.

    Women understand languages faster than men, he said.

    I did not know that this seemingly blissful period was short-lived for just after three weeks of my stay my husband asked me one evening,

    "Tell me Sóliì. When you were coming with that friend of mine you spent three nights on the way, right?

    Yes, I said.

    When you got to those places where you had to stay the night, did he pay a separate room for you or both of you stayed in the same room?

    The question shocked me. I guess the astonishment showed in my face because he grew even more amused.

    We slept in separate rooms, I answered.

    Are you sure?

    Yes I am sure, I replied.

    The interrogation ended there but I felt very uneasy. My

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