When Waters Overwhelms Man

Ever heard of little Taiwan of Africa?

That was what Onitsha town was at least to the people who live in it. It became so since the coming of the whites in middle 19th century. Maybe it was because The famous River Niger passed through it or other attractions seen only by those who kept coming back to it, or maybe due to easy transportation access.

When those it was initially their transit point started settling and opening shops, craft and all other manners of commercial activities in it, the town gradually turned into quasi city. The leaders of the town has foresight to build markets that serve almost other regions of the country and neighboring countries. Money started pouring in and other development followed.

I came into this world on one of the hospitals built by the white missionaries in early 20s in the city. But as it is usually with progress, government noticed that things were picking up and came with their own laws which practically superseded the town leaders authority. 

They came with their chairmen and started installing people here and there without the consent of the town leaders that assumed the roll of the bystander in their own town.

Taxes were introduced, roads built, government buildings erected. Onitsha town suddenly turned into a quasi city within months. They had earlier divided the town into streets that overlapped the villages in the town and map of the town was redrawn. 

Onicha was rename Onitsha by the colonial masters who insisted that the leaders of the town don’t even know how to spell their own names let alone the names of their villages and town. The names has remained the same since them. Onitsha.

As all manners of commercial activities started springing up there, new ways of doing things with law checking people excesses, population increased, houses started springing up to meet the demand, schools started introducing morning and afternoon sessions to Carter for the increase. Ways of handling things in the schools changed a lot. It differs entirely how it is done in the village schools.

I had earlier left to live with another family in the village due to my family's poor economy. I got back to my parents after four years in the village and enrolled in the afternoon session of Lafiaji primary school and I was truly mesmerized by how things were done there. 

In the school I was in the village, only one teacher takes all lessons in a class with most pupils doing the whole subjects with one or two exercise books. To my chagrin, it wasn’t so in Lafiaji primary school. Every subject has it’s own teacher and exercise book. 

     It might sound normal to you, but to me, coming from village school, it was abnormal in a mesmerized way. They even have toilet and shower rooms with a man to take care of it each day. In the village school, it was usually the surrounding bushes that pupils answer the call of nature in. 

The performance of the teachers were supervised by the head of the schools whereas in village schools it was teachers that does so in their various classes. No one supervises them. 

The city schools has electricity wired in each classes and corner there, the big hall that served as morning assembly venue during rainy days with televisions and land telephone placed in it for all to use when need arises was one of the attractions that I found hard to digest. Nothing of such nature in the village schools. There was no electricity in the whole town let alone schools. 

That big hall was the place the head master talked to five of us that changed from another schools to Lafiaji. Three from another city schools while one guy and I came from village school. I was still admiring the hall and all in it when the head master entered. 

“ Hello everyone, how are you all today?” 

“ Fine thank you sir” the three city pupils answered for us all.

“ I am here to let you all in on the dos and don’t of our wonderful schools so to help you settle in quickly. By the way, I am Mr. Richard mouka your head master. I will like you all to introduce yourself, your age, former schools and your level. Starting with you” he points at the boy sitting by his left.

“ I am Sunday Okoli, 8 years, I am in form three. I came from Metu primary school Onitsha”

“ I am Mary mezue, I am seven years old. I came from Ziks avenue primary school and I am in level two”

The introduction was being done in English and where I came from, we use our mother tongue to do everything, sweat has started wetting my uniform. I don’t know how to speak the language. Eying the other remaining two, they seems to be at easy. They looked relaxed in my calculations. Then, it was the turn of the other relaxed village boy. He kept moping at the headmaster and the city boy beside him nudged him to start but he seems not to get the signal until the headmaster pointed at him as he continued to mope at the man. The guy nudged him again and asked him to say something.

“ Something” he blurted out with a village smile on his face.

“ No, I mean it’s your turn to introduce yourself like others”

As he continued to mope at the boy, the headmaster got the joke and asked the city boy to introduce himself. After him, it was my turn and I was determined not to mope and since English was like climbing mountain to me, I decided to go through the route I knew. The local way.

“ Abum Philip Okolo, adim afor asato, esim Obioma primary school wee bia. Anom na klass nke ato”

I eyed the headmaster who was nodding and smiling to himself and the rate of my heart beat reduced a notch. 

“ All right, we go into the regulations now and our remaining friend will introduce himself later”

30 minutes later, the whole exercise was over and we disappeared into our various classes. 

That was my first time in that big hall which later became the center of attractions to me through out my stay in that school. We usually gather there to watch any national or game events from the three big screen TV sets. When there’s practical of anything, it usually done there. Nothing educates the less endowed pupils like seeing practically what the teacher was talking for hours in front of chalk boards. It was enlightening I must confess. I benefited from the practical’s there.

 For two years, it was so in my life till one morning when a heavy rain started without warning and remained at it for three days and turned everything in the town upside down. At the end of it all, we started hearing new words and phrases that was foreign to our ears: 

River over flowing it’s banks, mast falling, access to radio waves blocked, no signals etc.

No way to get to the capital for newspapers, no telephone signals, wires were cut, no radio signals. No connection to any where or anything. All has problems.

Grapevine information was flying here, there and everywhere. For weeks, it was so and throughout those weeks, I noticed that I relapsed into my left behind village ways of doing and seeing everything thing.