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………………………
