Raining Like Craze

 It was raining like crazy. Not water, not insult, not rain, not sand but money in different currencies, and the couple, now half officially Mr. And Mrs Jude Ibekwe were dancing like craze to the beat of a local well-known traditional wedding song and many villagers were observing events with mouths unconsciously opened. Who can blame the villagers if they forget themselves? The currencies raining on the couples were in three or four different kinds: dollars, euros, RMB, Naira, and pounds. It was a sight to behold. The man getting married is from the same town as the wife they are in her father's compound but he is staying abroad. He is living in Europe. Some say Greece, some say Italy, and some say cooler south. I have never heard of that country, I have looked up the name in the dictionary without luck and checked the old atlas in our house, it wasn't there but they insist it was there. I no longer argue, for what my eyes are seeing here is something else and besides, nations these days have three or five names. Cooler South might be in that category. 

The dancing was still on high, challenging the singer who was sounding as if he was their life and direct. If you are not there life but are hearing the noise from afar which is the case for many with a wedding of this caliber you will be forgiven if you believe that the musician is there life. It was up there with the best of the best. The European guys that came for the wedding and the Asian guys, all friends of the man marrying were competing against themselves and the land they returned from. This have become a tradition well accepted for foreign-based Nigerians to compete against themselves to show that the land they came from is progressive and rewarding. Sam the home-based classmate of the guy doing the wedding was dancing like mad and attracting greater portion of attention currencies on the ground are getting, competing with the couple and the song going on. People were wondering who he was for refusing to rest even when most he started with about thirty minutes ago were all resting for long and observing the currency pickers having a hard time picking up the currencies on the ground. The rate at which it was being replaced by sprayers as they are called was faster than the pickers could match. Sam was busy tagging along the couple that was by them resting on the sofa placed on the decorated canopy set for them in the mini field there. Sam was still dancing and dancing.

It was funny how hope can trigger adrenaline many saw in Sam. He had earlier cornered his classmate in primary school he saw last donkey years ago wanting to see his progress since he went abroad. He did not see any mansion in his father's compound the guy is still living in but a renovated and repainted story building that had been in the compound for long. He noticed that his classmates were looking healthy and fresher and that was sign enough to him that he was seeing his period like the adage here goes. He tagged closer. He had not been performing in his supply business for years now. What was initially looking promising suddenly fizzled out. He was just patching along pretending to have a strategy for arresting the downhill trajectory of the once-promising business. Then, Jude appeared on the horizon and the dead dream rekindled itself. He has to be the savior he had been waiting and praying for. What he saw in the traditional wedding upped the strength in him and he was dancing away his sorrow and imbibing hope. He had neglected somehow this man the money spread on him alone must be in the region of 20 to 35 Million when converted. Surely, he is going to hook him up to one of those sprayers and his suffering in this country would be past tense. It needs to be, it had been long. He had raised the issue with Jude not long after he came back from joining him and abroad now he saw these guys competing with themselves and money raining down like mad. His adrenaline rose to power ten and he was dancing like a man on drugs. 

He was told how things work over there in Cyprus. They told him how much it would cost him to join those abroad. He sold up everything in his possession and was still short of the capital mentioned. He believed that his classmate would supplement the shortage. He had sold many things and it was time for the ultimate test of their friendship. "I think that if you go to Asia the type of life they live there, it would favor you more," he told him when he came with the money. " Why would it favor me more than Europe?"

" it is where buying and selling is intense. The market setting is like what we have here, you have the knowledge already."

He had insisted that the Western world would do him better. They changed his money into euros and taught him the dos and don'ts of where they were sending him. The day he landed in the Cyprus capital, his confusion deepened. Almost everyone was speaking two different languages. They whisked him away to the 'one-star hotel' they booked for him, and gave him a brief refresher course on prison and the agricultural sector on how both are too good and working on the right wheels on well-oiled rails. "If you mess up, they would send you inside to re-educate you for years. No messing up here, so, watch your step all the way." that one put a little fear in him and he spent that night wondering what their works were. " why can't I join them he queried himself. Six months later, he was still stumbling. He decided it was not easy there and initiated a move to return to Nigeria. Salary? Per hour?" nay. Time to go back home.

Then, it was transiting from in Holland that he knew he was sent to the wrong country. The people and the air were even different. You can feel it seriously on you. He walked off the concourse and wandered off the airport and kept walking with even waiting to collect his boxes. He entered the town and located a restaurant, sat, and ordered food. Afterward, he paid and was about to leave and continue walking when three black guys entered one was jabbering away in a language he could not be able to describe in words how Melodious it was to his ears that moment he heard it. He gave them a follow when they were leaving.

Two months later, he got fake papers the boys helped secure a cleaning job at the same airport he walked away from illegally. He was doubling it with night security work. He was two months into the job when he knew where to locate his abandoned boxes. The atmosphere i getting somehow friendly but the work is taking its toll. Not easy to do two works in a day without adequate rest, but he has savings and he secured the work without known facial help. That builds courage and self-respect. It's going to be long for currencies to rain in his father's compound.