In the last six months that you became mad, again, your eyes have seen, your ears have heard, but your mouth could not talk about them because you have nobody to talk to, except yourself. Most of the time you even try to talk to people, they don't take you seriously because they believe you are nothing but a madman whose words and thoughts are different from theirs. But, in the real sense, you know what you saw. Right there at the three junctions where you sleep, your eyes have seen different kinds of people bring all forms of sacrifices to the junction. Some came with beans cake and pap cake mixed with palm oil. They render all sorts of dialogue before dropping their sacrifices, but then, you watch with close and rapt attention to see who it was. Your eyes could not believe you the very first time you saw a man bring sacrifice to the three junctions. He was not just a man, he was the pastor of a church down the road. You know him so well because you pass his church every Sunday while going for your begging adventure. "Awooro (drawer of people)" The pastor started. "Ero otun (crowd from the right), Ero osi (crowd from the left), ema dagirigiri wa so do mi (rush down to my place)" The pastor added. His sacrifice was 4 slaughtered pigeons whose heads faced the four cardinal points, while their legs meet at the same place in the big calabash. Pastor Kasali, as he was mostly called, was one of the respected people in Gbaremu town, and you could not believe he would be engaged in such a fetish act.
Even as you looked at Pastor Kasali, the memories of who you were before you became mad, again rushed to you. You were a street boy who depended mainly on picking pockets and running little errands to make ends meet. Your survival depended on how lucky you were with the pockets you pick, if you were not caught. If you were caught, your fate and life lies in the hands on your captor, and you are always at their mercy. You have been in the business of stealing and picking pockets for about 3 years that you and your parents were sent parking by the landlord for not paying the much-accumulated house rent. Like pieces of clothes, your father distributed you and your siblings to stay with different friends and families, most of which had their own crosses to carry too, but, just that their crosses were not as heavy as that of your father. The few times you were caught picking pockets, you were only saved by a little twist of events. "Bring tire" Someone shouted from the crowd on one of the occassions you were caught stealing. The words were accompanied by a heavy punch on your left jaw, and you felt like the world was coming to an end. The kick was ushered down by a fierce kick from someone putting on an Italian shoe. It was just a matter of time before you felt something across your neck, resting fully on your small shoulders. It was a tire, and the next you heard was, "bring petrol". You could see your life coming to an end right before your own eyes. You know that the next thing that would follow petrol would be matches or lighter, and that would be the beginning of your end. But, from nowhere, you heard a strong muscular voice commanding everybody to halt. At first, the voice was not obeyed. "I say make una wait" The voice repeated, very loudly. That voice was your saving grace, and not only was it your saving grace, it was the beginning of your journey to how you became a madman.
(c) 2016. Austus Ofmat Nwanne
When you see a madman, what comes to your mind? Do you see them as those that should be extinguished from the society or as those that should be cared and catered for? Has it ever occupied to you that they are also someone's brother, sister, father or even mother. A Yoruba adage says, "it's interesting to watch a madman display, but, it's hurting to have one as a child". Prepare to experience the story that puts "you" in that mad situation. I'll come your way again with the next episode. Don't forget to vote for me in the ongoing Nigerian Writers Award.
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OFMAT AUSTUS NWANNE
Inspirational Speaker/Media Consultant,
Swift24 Multimedia Services.
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