Roy and the village drunk

Roy was not a perfect dog, it had its flaws.

‘If I were to be human,’ it would say, ‘I would be better than “That man”’.  

‘That man’ was Roy`s name for the man who placed the seal of ownership on its head. 

Akande had butted its rump out of the house in the morning. No food was given as usual. It was expected to roam around the village in search of food. Koma was a small village. It usually took Roy less than thirty-minutes to roam the whole village twice. 

Roy had habitually roamed the village twice, there was no trace of left-overs nor thrown-outs anywhere. It was contemplating on going round the third time, maybe it had over look some places when the village-drunk came by. Dawodu had not vomited on himself today. Flies would have announced his presence. 

The whole village was empty of noise. Most of the villagers had gone to their farms. The few people that were around had gathered at Mama Alake`s shop. They were either there to drink palm wine along with bush meat or they were just there to hear the latest gossip. 

Dawodu swag to one side, fell on his knees and vomited on the ground. Nobody was around today to help him. Roy looked at the man. Its grumbling stomach reminded it of its hunger. It did not cast a second glance at the man on the floor. It found itself beside him. 

Dawodu vomited again. Roy got nearer to the vomit. It tasted it, rolled it over in its mouth. It tasted nice and okay. Before Roy knew what it was doing, it had licked up the vomit on the ground and licked clean the ones on the drunk's clothe and mouth. By the time Roy was through with its humanitarian service, the drunk was already snoring. 

Echoes were coming from Mama Alake's palm wine shop. Some dog owners would have taken their dogs along with them to the farm, Roy reasoned. But not its own owner. ‘That man’, was not a man. Roy left the drunk in the sun. It was not feeling alright with the meal. It was soon vomiting all the contents in its stomach too. 

Roy was about eating up its vomit when Bingo came around. Roy quickly bared its teeth, it growled. 

‘Don’t even think of coming any closer!’ 

Bingo stood at a safe distance, ‘You know I don’t eat this kind of shit,’ of course, Roy knew, ‘I just want to tell you something’. 

Bingo's owner was using it for business. Bingo was carrying its second pregnancy. All the eight puppies it had in the first pregnancy had been sold. Despite all the doggie's gossip about it, Bingo's consolation was that it eats good food all the time. Its owner was nice enough to serve its food on plate and its water in a bowl! 

*             *               * 

It was evening, the sun was a big orange sphere in the sky. It was going behind the village biggest mountain. Folks would say: the sun is going to hide until the next day. The farmers were coming home from their farms. Noises were coming back into the village. It was as if the village was springing back to life. 

Roy had been waiting for Bingo to come as they had planned. It did not even care whether ‘that man’ came back home or not. It was waiting for Bingo, who had promised to take it to a place where food would not be its problem again. 

Roy had been sceptical about the illusory place of course. It was sure it knew every nook and cranny of Koma village than any dog. ‘There is no such place like Bingo was saying…’ Roy was sure, that was why Bingo had not shown up. ‘No such place – it`s just a fantasy’. 

Smokes were coming behind every house in Koma village. The villagers were preparing their evening meal. At this time, most dogs would be loitering around the cooking place. Roy had no cooking place – it had disown ‘that man’ a long time ago. Just then, Bingo arrived, it was a surprised, ‘Do you really mean it?’ Roy asked. 

‘Don’t you believe me?’ Bingo asked in answer. Roy succumbed, ‘Well, if I don’t believe you, would I be here waiting for you?’ 

Bingo led the way, and Roy followed. They did not take the usual path. This kept Roy wondering: what kind of place are we going to? Then they saw a light among the bushes.

‘Light?’ Roy was surprised, ‘Is there someone living there?’ 

‘The village drunk lives there.’ Bingo answered.

They were at the house now. Dawodu was sitting in front of his house. A lamp was hanged on a wall, dangling over his head. He must have just finished eating. A plate of half-finished food was sitting beside him. It seemed he was done with the food. 

Dawodu dropped the bone in his hand. He pushed the plate of food aside, washed hands on the ground in front of him. He later took a bottle of alcohol and started drinking.

‘He would soon go to sleep!’ Bingo assured Roy. 

‘Go to sleep and leave all of these?’ Roy asked, pointing with its snort to the plate of food.

‘Yes, that is why we are here.’ 

‘Really!’ `Roy's mouth was immediately salivating. ‘How come you know this place, Bingo?’ 

Bingo felt like a heroine, ‘I followed him one day. He's the only villager whose house was a mystery to me. So I followed him'

Dawodu stood up, unhanged his lamp and staggered inside the house. The next thing that the dogs were hearing was Dawodu snoring. For the first time in Roy's life, it ate good food. All the way back to ‘that man’ house, Roy was wondering how the man actually became a drunkard.  

   *                    *                     * 

At twilight, clouds were gathering in the sky. It was going to rain. Roy ran to the kitchen – the kitchen was detached from the main house. It was windy, the fowls were making too much noise. Roy knew that ‘that man’ wife would soon come to check on the fowls. 

Roy had been forbidden from the kitchen. Bamike, Akande's wife rushed into the kitchen. The rain soon came with the wind, it was pushing the kitchen. Roy could hear ‘that man’ asking his wife, ‘is that dog in the kitchen?’ 

Within a blinking of an eyes, Roy found itself in the rain. It had never been more afraid in its life. As it stood in the rain, it was as if the gods were coming down in the rain. Roy began to run, it could not stop. The rain was biting at its body. It found itself at the village-drunk's house.  

Fortunately for Roy, the windy rain had burst the door of Dawodu's house opened. Roy ran inside and lied behind the door shivering. It could not state a reason for its presence in the village-drunk's house. Roy was just glad it had a dry place to lay its body. 

Dawodu had slept through the rain. The rain drizzled for a while in the morning, then it stopped. The sky cleared to reveal the glory of the morning. Dawodu stepped out of his room to the corridor. The entrance door was opened. He was transfixed by the presence of a strange animal behind his door. He could not step any closer. 

Just then, Roy woke up. It did not know what to do. Should it bark at the man – should it just sneer at him? It was the one that had intruded into his house. Roy backed away further into the door. Its body was tensed and shivering. 

Dawodu did not know what to do either. His house was quite far away from the village. He did not think a dog could stray to his house. Yet, the dog did not seem wild. It might be a stray dog after all. He noticed that the dog was drenched and shivering.

Instead of going to Mama Alake's shop, he decided to make cocoyam porridge. At least the dog would have something to eat. 

Dawodu was habitually depressed again. To get himself through the day, he needed to be at Mama Alake's shop. He could not even eat without his bottle of alcohol. He made out a plate for Roy and gave it some food. He was sure that by the time he got back from Mama Alake's shop, the stray dog would have gone. 

Dawodu decided to take his alcohol home. He bought extra to drink in the evening. He got home feeling drained and empty. Lo and behold, the stray dog was still there. It was even wagging its tail to him! Dawodu ignored the dog and went inside the house. 

He placed his bottle of alcohol on a box of wood. He was looking for a plate to pour his pig-pepper soup. Roy was following him, he wanted to turn around and shoo the dog away. Roy thought he wanted to kick it. It was frightened and blindly turned to escape the kick. Its head hit the box of wood and up went the bottle of alcohol and hit the floor. The bottle broke and its content spilled on the floor. 

Both Roy and Dawodu stood looking at the spilled alcohol. Dawodu could not cry, he went to his backyard to pick some stones. He angrily chased the dog out of his house. ‘What a bad luck this animal is!’ he muttered. 

He sat at the entrance door. He was very angry at the dog. Beside his house was a big mango tree. The tree was full of ripe fruits. Dawodu's attention was momentarily drawn to the mango fruits. He used to love mango, how come he had not even notice this mango tree! 

He left the door and moved closer to the mango tree. Mango fruits in different stages of rot littered the ground. Flies were flying off them as he came under the tree. Mango fruit was his Mimi`'s favourite fruit. Mimi was his daughter. Her mother had taken her away. She had run away with another man. 

Dawodu was surprised to see how bushy and unkempt his environment was. He plucked some mangoes to eat. He decided he would clear his surroundings.

It had been three years now, since he came to Koma village. Three years since his wife eloped with another man. Three years since he had been seeing himself unworthy of been loved. 

Just then, he saw the dog again. Roy was sitting on its rump, looking at him. He picked a rotten mango to throw at the dog. The look on the dog's face made him changed his mind. Roy was saying: 

‘I have no place to go!’ 

Dawodu dropped the rotten mango, went inside to look for his cutlass. He worked until the sun came up in the sky. Roy was with him all the while he was working. It would run after some rodents and came back again. Dawodu took his bath, sat at the backyard to his porridge. He gave some for his new friend, the dog to eat too. 

     *              *                * 

Dawodu slept off after eating. He woke up, craving for a drink. The dog was lying beside him. He stood up to go to Mama Alake's shop. Everything around him were looking fresh and tidy. 

‘Where had I been all these while?’ Dawodu asked himself. You had been trying to drown the reality that your wife had left with your daughter by drinking alcohol. 

Dawodu swirled to see who had just spoken. Nobody but the dog was with him. He was sure the dog cannot talk. The dog had been a wonderful companion after all.

He decided to keep the dog. He beckoned to the dog to come, he caressed its head. He came to realisation of his foolishness. This dog must be God's sent, ‘Thank you for the broken bottle of alcohol!’

‘We're going to Ikole tomorrow,’

Dawodu was talking to Roy, ‘I need to see the hire-man who is managing my farm for me'

He poured some pig-pepper soup for Roy. He sat to enjoy himself. ‘No more alcohol over someone who had run away with another man!’