In arriving at a decision, I decided to consult one of the men I respect a lot in that clan. He is Adugah. He retired as a teacher and had always made me believe that life was a battle of wits. More often than not, before I left the community, he would call me to offer pieces of advice, the way a genuine elder would. I had grown up, seeing him as a role model, in spite of the fact, that he was distant in terms of relationship with my mother. I knew he, Adugah would tell me the truth about the situation.
He was sitting under the mango tree in his compound when I arrived that evening. And like a concerned father, welcoming his prodigal son from a long and lost journey, he asked me to sit down. When I placed the bottle of brandy I brought before him, he cleared his throat and told me he knew why I came.
I was astonished, “You mean you were expecting me?” I asked him.
“Expecting is far from it. I knew you would come. But Ladi my son, it is good that you came to me. Of course, you trust I would tell you the truth. But it could be bitter. However, it is the pathway of life because it’s a truth that lasts longest. You do not just wake up and tell the elders in your mother’s village that you want to build a house. You do not wake up and begin to demand for a piece of land. I know the way our people reason. They would feel that the next time, you would run them out of the village because it has happened before. Our people are very careful when it comes to such things,” he stated in clear terms.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked him.
“You have asked a very good question. In fact, that should have been the first question you should have asked. Your mother has to tell you about your origin. I believe you have a father. Everyone has a father. Your right is potent in your father’s village. I know a little about you when we were young. But your mother will be in the best position to explain because whoever wears a pair of shoes will know where they are pinching him,” he explained.
After I had asked a few more questions, he told me in graphic details the events that led to my being brought home. He told me stories about when my mother was living in Onitsha and how she came back and travelled to Jos.
“Your mother, Ene grew up to be one of the most respected gifts in this village. I taught her in school and I was here when she left this village and travelled to Onitsha. I was also here when she came to say that one man wanted to marry her. We were all happy and expectant, waiting for the day. Then she returned with bruises and a pregnancy. Under such circumstances, there was little anyone would ask. The next time, she moved to Jos, where I supposed she had the baby. I saw her again in the village after two years with a baby boy who happens to be you. Like I said, she has the explanations to make. You are going to confront her,” he told me.
