A COIN WITH 3 SIDES PART 1

With all good sides of life; lie a bad side. This balance is as spiritual as our souls. God created it that way for his glory. We are not to be blamed completely for our wrong doings sometimes when we find ourselves negatively in the uttermost side of the life. I have tasted the two and I would tell you all, one is better. Without the other one though, one’s appreciation will be without sincerity. When I looked back to those old times, I try to reiterate the feelings and pains mixed with seasons of happiness with the minimal cause of joy and nothing but tears of joy surrounds me in all happiness. I have suffered but……….

Twenty two years in a slum with no appeal of getting out of there was the height of lunacy. I was present in this field. We were three that rose to become generals in our different environment at my age. I was a true victim of my time just like the others. Two of us are present here today to joyfully commission this centre for rehabilitation because we know what it means to get out of ghetto.

My name is Feddy Ehikhator and my friend’s name is Daniel Rhodas. It’s quite unfortunate that Patrick isn’t here with us; may his soul rest in perfect peace.

I was panting with a sense of having my bath when I get back home. The whole bathroom in my neighbourhood was situated outside the buildings. We had a session of training by one of the big uncles in the hood. His name was Colonel Kundu. He was the shortest of all the generals but he was known for two things: his love for children and his love for football. He will always gather small boys and teach them how to play soccer. He was a maestro but he will never find his way into the national team or any meaningful club. There is a last attribute of him…. He smokes Indian hemp like his breath.

As I fetched water to go shower, I saw a light from a dark corner glowing brighter and dim at intervals. The bucket was getting full when the brightness caught my attention again. I put off the tap and walked towards the source of the light. As I got closer I heard a voice ask “who goes there” I answered it’s me Feddy.

Oh boy come wetin you de find?

I walked close to them in all confidence and after a little interrogation I was handed my first drags of Indian hemp. It took me to clouds I haven’t been before. Everything became clear and funny to me. I was there till midnight as I forgot I was supposed to have my bath. From that day till two months ago I was an addict to Indian hemp. I was 11 years old then.

School was boring as our teachers were different from us. They were teaching us things that were not applicable to our environment. I wasn’t going to live in London or the United States but all they emphasize on was to become a white man in black mask. I wasn’t really interested. I heard a voice speak deeper things to me every time I took a drag. I started writing those meanings down and the senses that came from them scared everyone around me. I wasn’t a school boy but I was intelligent. I was going to be a drop out, I knew but I promised myself it was going to be with a difference.

One faithful afternoon as I came back from school; my mum was mixing his ethanol in his drum with roots of many trees to be sold in the hood and my dad as lazy as he is was just smoking cigarettes and reading old newspaper like a student of history. I called their attention and told both of them I wasn’t interested in going to school any longer.

Mum felt bitter because she really wanted me and my sister to get through school so that we can leave the slum. But the truth was that the slum had taken charge of me. I hated civilization. I lived within a content and love of all; that what matters in the cities of the rich was filthiness to us. We shared everything and nobody was an island of anything. We are colleagues in all and discrimination was a punishable offence. The slum was a home until I met Linda.

The pitch we play on is a deserted road by the government. I heard it was once tarred but after the civil war the road has been left untouched. The gulley behind it make it impossible for any vehicular movement across they yard thus we turned it into our football pitch. There are different segments therefore one has to look for the group that plays like his and join them. Daniel and I were picked to play for under- 12 against the other street. We have trained continually for over 2 weeks thus our friendship had no obstacle. We were both weed smokers (although he started before me) but the game and school made us better friends. Daniel instigated my leaving school after he explained some peculiar thoughts to me.

Daniel: Feddy do you think you can one day become a white man?

Feddy: no

Daniel: then why are we stressing ourselves into learning what they know and they are not interested in learning what we know?

I took a long drag of weed as it burnt my fingers. It was about to finish and the drizzling rain won’t allow us run to the Lungu to get another wrap. We deliberated on the essence of school till midnight and like drug addicts and armed robbers we dragged ourselves home.

When I was fifteen years old, I was already a force to reckon with in my hood. At that time I and Daniel could lead a team of footballers to another hood in the same slum for a football match. By fifteen the following must have happened to you as a man in the hood.

You must have been stabbed at least once, you must have attempted rape, you must have tried smoking weed, you must know how to sing, you must try to play football, you must be a gambler, you must have tried alcohol, you must have impregnated a lady, you must know how to stab and you must have been arrested by the police.

As for me and Daniel we had more than enough of this.

I took a walk one day near the dump yard to see if there was any valuable to arrange for small dough. There I saw a girl who seems not to be like one of us. Her skin was fresh and her voice was heavenly. It was then I noticed the crack in my voice. She was somehow lost in her thoughts as she sat at the stairs at the entrance to the classroom. The dump yard isn’t too far from the school. I walked over to her side with the most romantic welcome I could imagine but instead she started shivering in fear. I looked at my hand and checked myself out again if anything was wrong with me. I told her not to be scared and that I meant no harm. She became a little comfortable around me and then her story began………………………