FEATHERLAND

Grandpa Akume laughs. For the fifth time in a month, his seven grandsons trapped with him for holidays are fighting over who is better. And rather than be the exception, this case is even more violent than the past encounters. All his grandchildren had their personal characters that were worth emulating, but they were blind to that fact and they wanted to be the jack of all trades. 

Tonight, he decided he would tell the story that his own grandfather had told his own father. Though old, he knew this fable would do far more good to his grandchildren despite it seemingly irrelevance in the present world. He jotted his decision down in a note by his side, due to old age, he was suffering from the ability not to recall things well. An irony of his younger days when he could do so with ease. 

“Peter, tell your brothers I have something to tell them tonight after the meal,” Akume says.

“Yes, Papa,” Peter replies, with a weakened voice, he had used the best part of his voice to compete with James, his immediate brother on who had the best voice among the grandchildren. He knew for the best part, that James had the best voice but was what the use not fighting it out to the end and then just accepting surrender. The eye of amazement he spied from his other siblings was enough to satisfy him that he was in par with James. 

Outside of their house, just beside the fence. His siblings are playing football. No gender division. Three versus three. No space for him, he could guess. That is not a problem, he says to himself, the only android phone in the house was waiting somewhere under his luggage. “This evening, Papa wants to tell us something. Don’t stress yourself too much. In order not to be dozing while he talks.” He explains to them without a smile. A smile would make the seriousness of what he was saying lost. Just like the issue of when he claimed he was the most handsome. The ridicule his sisters gave him was beyond what he expected and he thought it was because he was not serious about it when he told them.

Ebunoluwa sneers immediately Peter turns his back, her brother with his fake seriousness. She was in Junior Secondary School Two but was wiser than her age. Their parents had bought enough books to keep them busy for years. Her siblings failed to take advantage of it but not her. Not her. Every single class since nursery school she had led. She went back to the ball-playing. She was in Adeoluwa’s team. Adeoluwa was third in the family. OF all her siblings, it was James she loved best. He was the kind of a dream boy she read about in books. And Books only! She was as delighted as she watched James become the man of the book. His elegant look, coupled with his sensuous voice and slender physique, at her young age, she adored him. He was just too much. And James kept his looks at all times. He was in Senior Secondary School two but whenever one saw him, they always commented in her hearing that he looked like a male god sent for women. She didn’t totally believe the god analogy but she knew definitely that her brother went beyond the boundaries of words in the definition of his handsomeness.

The ball was getting tiring, her tomboy sister’s team was having the upper hand. “Purity is a strange name to give a girl like my sister.” Ebunoluwa always thinks. Her sister was the definition of everything a boy could do, in a girl’s body. Ebun remembers her first day in school, some Junior Secondary School Three students had decided to play newcomers and suck them dry of whatever they could. But their first target was Ebun. A wrong target. Ebun just had to do the pre-agreed signal whenever trouble came and Purity would appear and so it was when Purity came. Immediately the miscreants saw Purity, they took to their heels with great agility. “Tyson Purity is here o.” They shouted. Ebunoluwa smiles with remembrance towards Purity, just as Purity looked. 

Purity returned the smile, she didn’t know why Ebun glance at her that way, but it looked like one of appreciation. It was only Adeoluwa who gave her a chill, a kind of fear, with his looks. Cold. Pregnant. Undefinable. Those were the best words to define how the shy brother in their midst behaved. She didn’t know why but she understood Peter, the firstborn, especially with that his model abs and gravid arms. He was straight about what he wanted and could be all serious just to get it. James was a ladies man. He knew all the right words to make anyone sell his father. And his voice added to his already impeccable persuasion skills. But Adeoluwa could be staring and she would feel he was looking. Looking. Looking right through her clothes to her newly developing glands. But at the same time, like a baby with no direction or what to do next. For everything he did, he was always Sorry. His classmates nicknamed him “SORRY” and called him that right to his face. With no repercussions. Her other siblings had said within themselves maybe he was retarded but his results showed the negative, you would never see him reading, always brooding but he almost always got the perfect even number in all his exams. 

He was an enigma, but his sensibilities and geniuses stopped there, Praise was the king on the field, true Peter had the muscles, but Praise was the one who controlled the field of play and that was why she chose him in her team. Beating Adeoluwa’s team 10-3 was a direct representation of his ability. Tired and worn out, she goes the way leaves Busola and Praise on the mini-stadium.

Busola shook from her sleep, Adeoluwa’s trademark voice had woken her and it was only one person in the house who could wield that power to make the nervous boy do so, the tomboy. It was dark outside, no one had taken the initiative to switch on the outside light. She would have to do it, then try to settle Adeoluwa’s fight, after that listen to what Mummy’s father had to say. She prayed to GOD that none of what she had prayed for would disrupt. Disruption was evil in her planned life. 

“I’m not scared of you. No matter what you do.” Ade shouted on top of his lungs. Busola watched, his face was pumped up and the instigator of the fight was returning spittle with fire. Typical Purity. Tyson Purity. She knew she could not stop them but big bro could. He always did. She runs downstairs to get him. She meets him in alternation with Praise on who is the best footballer in the world. She doesn’t catch any name in their gentleman arguments but was able to break it up, in order for them to come to break apart the bigger one. 

“Those two babies are fighting again. What will be the best punishment for them?” Peter thinks as he goes upstairs to prevent Adeoluwa from being physically abused, Praise and patterned Busola at his back. He gets to the Adeoluwa main shift room where their noise is coming from. He meets Purity with her hand raised in a fist to meet Adeoluwa's puffed-up mouth. 

“Exactly, the stage I need,” Peter says firmly. “Purity, from today on…” He was cut short by the special alarm Pa Akume used when there was an emergency. It is with great fear he takes five giant steps towards PA Akume’s room.

“Did you forget about our appointment?” Pa Akume questions them with a snicker as he lays on his bed.

“Not at all, Papa. We were trying to settle the fight between Purity and Adeoluwa.” Praise moves nearer to the bed to complete the semi-circle around grandpa.

Grandpa coughed. “In a land far away, where man is still a god. There lived seven families of feathers their names were; Bristle, Filoprume, Semi plume, Down, Contour, Wing, and Tail.” He coughed again, “The bristles family are simple feathers, with a stiff rachis that usually lack barb branches. They are most commonly found on the head, bristles may protect the bird’s eyes and face. Their clients are flying insect-catching birds like goatsuckers and tyrant.”

“Busola, get me some water; no worries. I would wait for you.” Busola dashes out and returns with the same speed. Eager not to miss any of papa’s nuggets.

“The filoplume family is Short simple feathers with few barbs, they function like mammal whiskers to sense the position of the contour feathers. While the Semi plume family are mostly hidden beneath other feathers on the body, semi plumes have a developed central rachis but no hooks on the barbules, they offer a fluffy insulating structure to their client.”

“The Down family are cousins to the semi plumes with an even looser branching structure but little or no central rachis, down feathers are relatively short and positioned closest to the body where they trap body heat. The Contour Families are what you see covering the bird’s body and streamlining its shape. Arranged in an overlapping pattern like shingles, the waterproof tips are exposed to the elements and the fluffy bases are tucked close to the body. Sometimes they are brilliantly colored or uniformly drab, contour feathers can also help the bird show off or stay camouflaged. Contour feathers of the wing are called Coverts, shaped into an efficient airfoil by smoothing over the region where the flight feathers attached to the bone.” He sipped a little water and speaks slower.

“The tail Family or rectrices, feature an interlocking microstructure similar to wing feathers. Arranged in a fan shape, these feathers support precision steering in flight. Typically, birds have six pairs of feathers on the tail, which display increasing levels of asymmetry toward the outer pairs. The tail family has a monopoly in that; In some birds, tail feathers have evolved into showy ornaments that are useless in flight while the Wing Feathers specialized for flight are characterized by uniform wide proof surfaces, or vanes, on either side of the central shaft that is created by an inter-locking microstructure. Also called remiges, these feathers are asymmetric with a shorter, less flexible leading edge that prevents mid-air twisting.”

“These feathers in Feather land had been fighting among each other for centuries over who was the best. It was a young bristle who suggested than rather than be the judge of who was best among themselves. The man should be invited to choose from. People applauded his wisdom but the Contour family asked how it would be done. He quickly responded that just a particular bird would be chosen, then each feather family will grow individually on it. The feather which looks best alone on the bird would be considered the best by all and respected for that. It all seems right to them and accepted. 

“The seagull was chosen as the bird of the experiment. Seven seagulls were selected and the seven feather families send their representatives on each bird. The D-day came with Man coming.” He stopped again to drink. This time drinking the whole cup.

“Hope you are getting the story?” He asks.  

“Definitely. Papa!” They chorus.

“When the man came, each family tried to outdo each other in welcome. They gave choicest delicacies in order to make his stay as happy as possible, even fighting among themselves to do so. The exact reason, they had invited the man to stop. The seagulls came in Bristle, Filoprume, Semi plume, Down, Contour, Wing, and Tailfeathers.

The man looked at them with no fear or favor. He watched the seagull with only semi plume. The feathers looked tattered and unconnected, creating a scenery of an animal whose wings have torn violently. With the tail feather, the bird was nice especially with his fan-like posture, but there was a sense that something was missing and too much of everything was neither the best. The seven birds were paraded and man recorded his impression of each and who will turn out the best.” Grandpa Akume turns around and watches his grandchildren he was watching if they had been impacted by the story.

“All the representatives of the families came up to him, to see who the winner was.” He stays. “Who do you think is the winner?” He asked them.

“Of course, no one. They were all not beautiful individually.” Ebunoluwa replies.

Granpa Akume smiles, his grandchildren were indeed his. “Let me confess, I don’t know who won. I have forgotten the rest of the story. But I think how Ebunoluwa wants to end it is also good.” He turns to her. “Tell us why you said so. Why will it be no one?” 

“Their beauty was in their diversity, their function in their differences. The moment they failed to recognize that and tried to be the best individually. They failed.”

Everyone claps, Ebunoluwa always amazes. Always.

“The aim of the story is to tell you that. You my grandchildren are the future. United although with your conflicts. You must never ever let your conflicts dictate you. Learn from the feathers, the conflict will always come but United you are better.”

Gently he took his grandchildren in his arms and breathed his last.

As his grandchildren looked up the sky through the window.