The KT OLLA Web Stories

THE coming of the missionaries to Morrow’s house was the start of a great future. For through their stay in the little compound-house, even Oji and Daleka’s families got converted. Then their grown boys enrolled in the local school. Yes, it was a huge turnabout that happened there in the houses of three brothers. First, Oki – now Maria, found joy again in the wake of 1925 while the harmattan season peaked; as she suddenly saw that she’d taken in. She’d been weeks pregnant. So, time went and turned in circle as it was almost harmattan again. Then life broke the waters to push through. It was the eighth month in 1925, and a biting cold was the new weather. It was something that marked August in those years. The Yoruba people called it Ọgìnìtì (with a falling sound on each of the vowels). And weather studies termed it August Break... a period when the rains break’d with cold, with this break being August then. So, the sub-season went with a keen chill – the keenest to witness all through...

THE knitted house of kinsmen, Morrow, Oji and Daleka, continued to be home for the American missionaries in Ede – till they’d secured land for their mission work in the town. For they were later handed large pieces of free lots that were nothing more than hard ground. Indeed, the missionaries got land on the steep slope of a rocky hill, looking over the ruler’s palace in those years. Then in that hard ground, they built their first church, and it prospered. Townsmen turned to God in large numbers, yielding their lives to Jesus. They joined the church with their wives and kids. They got baptized, too, and picked Christian names. That parish soon became the church which Morrow’s family chose. His wife was baptized, then she took this name... Maria . The whole house of Morrow, Oji and Daleka joined the church for worship. They went from their settlement on a street off the King’s Market, near ‘the Border Gate’ called same to date. Then, the seed of God’s love came to thrive in that time o...

MORROW’S guests were a company of eight – five men and three women. So his small family settled them in two of their bedchambers. Then called to Oji and Daleka for more space for them. So, this ‘house’ of three brothers happened to shelter God’s messengers. They housed them through their early work in Ede. Then, that night when the evangelists arrived, Morrow had his wife prepare fine meal. Some African dish with sauce, and a heavy cap of goat meat. So the household settled to eat, together with its guests. The man laid down some straw mat for the team, then another for his family. So, they dined as one. The missionaries felt quite grateful they wanted to say thank you. But they found the language quite a barrier. So they gestured broadly as they spoke. ‘Thank you! I mean... we’re thanking you – thank you!’ The elderly man replied them. So it caught his guests by surprise. ‘Thank God! Yes, thank God!’ It was the farthest he could try. ‘Oh, you speak English? You can speak English?’ Mor...

IT was still the early 1900’s and Christianity was just setting foot in the town of Ede people. The township had been quite hostile to the new faith about redemption through Jesus. The British mission around had only succeeded in building a small parish with a little class beside it to teach reading and writing. The class had run like a village school, with young Britons being employed as class teachers. The young women would sit all through day, with not much children turning up for school. The plan of the little mission was to make formal education enlighten the townspeople. Then, they could convert to Christianity in time. Yet that didn’t work. So, the church hadn’t grown beyond itself. Therefore when the evangelical team arrived from an American mission, it caught them by surprise that no one was willing to host them. That day, even the colonial government in town which housed the British missionaries, weren’t ready to cater for new people. They rendered vague support, and left the...

FEWER people trudged forth and back the roads as night fell. Morrow and his family were just returning home from hospital. But their heart laid so heavy they dragged their feet. Morrow would naturally not stay out late in town. He disliked trekking the jungle roads at night since he returned from war. Still this night, the fifty-something wouldn’t mind trekking, as he found his life a dark night, too. So he dragged himself and trudged home, a thousand footsteps away. Meanwhile, some other folks were following behind the couple. But the man and his wife were down with a big burden that they didn’t look to see. More so, they’d caught up with someone on the way, and walked past him; and a few others have met them, and passed. So, they hadn’t looked back to note who tailed them. Not till they got back home. Now as soon as the couple arrived, they heard some quiet knock on their door. The man of the house wasn’t expecting a guest. So he wondered who it was at the hour. Then, the voices went...

IT was mid-day and the sun was just rising above the head. A few plantings and harvests had gone by and it was another year. Morrow walked back in his house and announced he was there. He had been sent for from his hut at the farm village. He’d been gone for some time to check up on things. Daleka and Oji were equally at their farms. So their wives had sent two grown sons to the farm to ask their in-law back. They had news for Morrow. So, just while the farmer walked back in the house, they told him how serious things were. Morrow ran into the bedchamber, saw Oki with their little boy. Saw her cry as Dekomi laid weak in his bones. The beautiful kid’s body burned hot like he’d caught a fever. But his joints and ankle got swollen, too, that it seemed this was no fever. The little child ached and he couldn’t stand. Now his father bowed low there and felt him. He asked if they’d treated him for fever; and they’d done so, but this was some new sort. So Oki nodded and answered, ‘Let’s take h...

NINETEEN-TWENTY passed, then Twenty-One. The Rains, the Break, the Dry, and Harmattan. Those times passed and returned like the waves of sea. In that little time, the gentleman of dreams had flourished again. He’d prospered in both cash and kind, gleaning them from his farmland. He got people to work on some of the cropland. Then he leased out the other farm ground. So, the old ambitious one grew quite tall in those years, as tall and proud as his dreams. Only, his house hadn’t grown beyond him, as he couldn’t have a child with his wife. The ageing man had thought that the issue was with him. That he was too old to father a baby. But it appeared that this wasn’t the case, as the elder soon peered in tomorrow and saw it dazzling with promise. Now Morrow caught this small glimpse of future at his local church. The only one then which the British founded. He heard a story that changed his life. A story about Abraham the Father of faith. It was the first time he was learning this. Morrow l...

MORROW found himself waiting each morning for the group of friends to come round. To use the way through his place and walk past. He’d seen someone refresh his spirit like she was his angel. The way she talked to him, smiled at him, and liked him. He wanted to have a young friend like her. Who he could talk to on matters that irked him. He didn’t need her to give answer to all his weighty matters. He just wanted to talk to someone. Still, he realised that each time he saw Oki, he forgot everything about the burdens. Like those weights hadn’t mattered. So Morrow looked forward to seeing the girl. And truly, the young one passed his place with fewer friends. It was for a few weeks. They would pass and Oki would wave at him, smiling. Yes, she hailed brightly it stopped to matter she didn’t kowtow. For she was meant to bend the knee to greet an elder. But Morrow was her hero . Therefore, a morning came and her girlfriends weren’t in her train. She was the only one passing.  So Oki stop...

A COUPLE of days passed and this new day, Morrow woke up to nothing still. He woke up and found nothing worth a chase. The gentleman tidied up, made his meal himself and took his breakfast. Then he sat in his veranda and watch the world roll. The old veteran missed his lost family, his wife and their two kids. Yet he wouldn’t ask them back. Now it was the mother who kept her kids in those days, if she happened to leave their father. For the men wouldn’t struggle to raise them – it was the woman’s burden. So the family head sat alone without family. Without the people who answered his name. But he didn’t sit for too long before something else caught his eyes. He sighted a few young women passing. Then he realised they were the same clique of friends who passed days earlier. The group was smaller this time, so he hurried to see if the girl was there – the one with the keen eyes. Then he spotted her stopping their group to tell them something. And the next moment, they wandered close. The...

IT was late February and a time when seasons change in western Nigeria. The harmattan cold of late December through January had gradually turned warmer, till February seemed quite hot. And then the rains went back. It was wet season again in the tropical greenland as the clouds kept swelling with huge promises. Yes, there had been the first downpour at the villages and towns since the end of harmattan. There’d also been some little drizzle for early planters of corn. But it was the end of shine and the start of rain, as some countryside like Ede looked to March. Those were the years of forests and farms. Now, farmers were gearing up to the fresh planting challenge. Then Morrow was retiring to reap from his land. He’d been spending a lot of time cleaning the house since Wura left him. He got new furniture and mopped his floors plenty times. So, every chamber in his large house sparkled. Even the clay walls were mopped clean. Still, Morrow hadn’t got the time doing this to wipe off Wura ...

THE news about her husband surviving the food incident seemed to have reached Wura, too. But she hadn’t gone looking for him, till he arrived home again. She went back when he was discharged. It had been about a week since that Wura incident, and Morrow returned home to meet her there. It seemed she arrived there at the same time as he. And her only baggage were their kids. ‘Ah my husband—! I heard news that—!’ Morrow only stopped in his tracks to look at her. And his stern gaze seemed to shush her. For she halted, saw she hadn’t offered a help with his load, then hurried to take the sack. Morrow gave the baggage to her and held the kids. She stuttered. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say I never heard—! But you know... you know the distance! I mean—!’ The man simply turned to move. ‘Let’s talk tomorrow, Oji! You too, Daleka!’ (The brothers returned with him that morning.) Daleka answered first. ‘I’ll bring your lunch first, brother!’ Oji went after him. ‘I’ll send the dinner, too!’ Morrow nodded at...

MORROW dropped his head in a sigh. He found forgiveness a bit tough. So he sighed. ‘No she hate me! Wura—she hate me!’ Hellen gazed, nodding at him. She must’ve felt his heart in those words, for she pulled her seat closer for talk. ‘Look at me,’ she called. ‘Why will a woman hate her man she just got to see in five years? ‘Or why would she poison someone who came back safely?’ Then she answered herself. ‘It’s apparently because she went elsewhere. “Her heart is with someone else”—you could say that. ‘But is that what it is? D’ you think that’s everything? Yes, Mr Morrow?’ Morrow gazed up and just stared blankly. Hellen hit hard. ‘Is this the first time a person will leave their spouse for another? I’m sure it’s a no. ‘So, will every girl who leaves her man make an attempt on his life?’ Morrow didn’t answer. ‘No, I have seen women here change spouses, but they do not murder!’ insisted the nurse. ‘So it isn’t because your wife found a new man!’ Morrow raced to respond. ‘So what it is—?...

HELLEN hailed from a different place where the manner in which Morrow’s spouse took things, shocked them. And Morrow dwelt in a future space where those things couldn’t happen. Miss Hellen, as she called herself, was British, and Morrow a Nigerian. Yet both folks connected on a human level that levelled up space. Like Races become People in Christ. ‘The most painful part of your story,’ began the younger speaker, ‘is that you can’t do anything about it. ‘But that itself is everything. It is everything you’ll have to do.’ ‘I not understand!’ Morrow quipped, then motioned with his hand. Hellen stopped to read him well. She saw him gesture for her to move on, and yet what he said didn’t agree. ‘You mean—?’ ‘I—not understand!’ Morrow repeated, sporting the same gestures. Suddenly, the nurse caught that too. Morrow was simply asking her, ‘What do you mean?’—the way he gestured by hand. So the forty-something smiled that she caught on, then tried to explain. ‘Okay, what I mean is, you should...

HEAVY sighs fell from a hurting chest like logs from a camel’s back. Still the weight wasn’t just about the load. It was quite sorrow-full, too. Yes, the talk about Morrow was fast spreading round town. People talked about a survivor of the Whiteman’s war, who returned alive – only to be poisoned by his wife. People talked about the man, and it soon reached him. It was a new day at the cottage hospital in the small township of Ede. Morrow’s brothers had gone home earlier to fetch his meal. They were making it themselves, so they hurried. Now their eldest woke up and was by himself. He thought of the events of the day before. Thought of them from several perspectives. And they just hurt, whatever angle he peered at them. He thought of the years he spent with Wura his woman. Plus, the years it took him to have the kids. Then again, he thought of the way Wura left him. And it irked him much. Now Morrow chose to leave the thoughts on his wife and face his own existence. But that even hurt ...

MORROW’S little brothers were his rescue men that cold morning. They caught him just when he dropped limp, then rushed him for treatment. They took him to the cottage hospital uptown. A primary healthcare unit which the British ran that time. It was one that grew on to become some secondary healthcare in time. So, Oji and Daleka swung to their brother’s rescue and rushed the dying man there. He was admitted for treatment at once. Then his guardians waited outside. The sun crawled up the sky all day as the two brothers waited for news. They’d been asked to wait outside and they must oblige. The gentle sun had grown red hot as it burned atop the place. Now the men couldn’t wait it out any longer. So Daleka decided he’d head right in. Wanted to see what they were doing to his brother. He said he couldn’t trust those folks. So he hastened along the way—the older one followed. A small time passed and Oji was left wandering alone. He’d suddenly lost sight of Daleka and had returned outside. ...

NOW Oji and Daleka went in to meet their brother as his wife hurried out of the house. ‘You meet me well, brothers,’ Morrow smiled as he dished his food. ‘Care to join for breakfast?’ ‘Oh we just had ours, big bro,’ Oji answered for them. ‘Thanks for the offer.’ ‘In that case, will you—?’ ‘Oh never mind,’ their youngest smiled, ‘we can sit and talk while you go on eating. We also have things to share with you.’ He looked to his partner for agreement and Oji nodded back. Yes, it was the culture there for someone to invite their guest to table when the latter meets them dining. Then, it was the right ethic for the guest to decline with thanks. Morrow glanced at them. ‘Oh really? Have your seat then. ‘And meanwhile, you did a lot helping last night – I appreciate it. Please tell your wives, too, we’re grateful.’ ‘Well, that is nothing,’ Oji waved a hand. ‘We are grateful that you returned! That you came home alive!’ Morrow looked at them and smiled. He had just finished dishing, so he smi...

NOW Morrow went back in the house and met his woman dressed up and serving his breakfast. It was a lone breakfast. ‘Are you going out?’ he asked her. ‘Yes, my lord. I just need to get something in the market. Then I’ll get to my mama’s place for other things.’ Those words rolled out with a bright smile. Morrow wasn’t content and pulled back. ‘Oh is that so?’ ‘Meanwhile,’ added Wura, ‘I’ll first drop the kids with Mother before going to market; and then return to pick my things. So I might take long!’ Morrow snapped. ‘Taking long isn’t the issue here, woman. Or didn’t I say I’m visiting your parents today? ‘So why are you dropping the kids off and going there before me? ‘More so, you are just telling me what you already decided. What is going on with you, Wura?’ Wura took her man by the hand and implored him to sit. She sat with him on upturned mortars left as seats in the house. She looked in his eyes, and explained: ‘Oh my husband, things are not as serious as you keep taking them. ‘T...

THE talk that Morrow had just got back alive from the Whiteman’s war, was the thing that filled his whole community. People began to walk towards his house in twos and threes to check on him and say hello. The man had brushed and was spending the time sun-gazing. He’d also left the chewing stick back inside. He looked in the thinning haze and he could see the neighbours nearing. Yes, they walked in pairs and in small groups; still they were going all at once. As though they went from the same home. Morrow looked at them and he could still recognise their faces. People from his street and across it. Someone from this place and that. Yet the whole community were going together to him. Like they had something else to say. No, the middle-aged man didn’t feel comfortable. Now when those guests reached him, they got there together, too—and they acted loads. ‘Ha, who am I seeing now? Isn’t this—?’ ‘God be praised! It is him; it isn’t his brother. It is you my good friend; I’ve felt—!’ ‘Yes, w...

THE dense harmattan haze rose with the climbing sun on this new day in Ede. The air was heavy with fog, sending dry chills that made things break. Even the softest skins broke and tore. Morrow slept through the night like a weary fighter. He’d drifted to sleep the moment he hit hard ground, then only woke briefly when he turned. Still this was like weather for two in a region where the noon sun touches the head. So Morrow rolled over his lady several times; yet each of those times she barred him off. Things were that cold with those two. Soon the sun was high; and it was daylight tearing through the fog that woke the man up. It was mid-morning with the thick clouds lifting. Yes, the day shone through the cold and everything felt bright again. So when Morrow looked by him and saw no one, he went round the house to douse the fear. He found his spouse preparing breakfast. He saw his kids too, helping. The man smiled, then called his older son. ‘Go call your uncles,’ he rapped. ‘Tell the t...

THE first night of Morrow’s return to Ede was one full of surprises, some petty august surprises. For when news got to Wura in town that her man had arrived, she rushed back to their old home with the kids. Even that midnight hour. Everyone had gone back to rest after finishing tidying up the house. So Morrow was the only one left in there. And he was just beginning to find sleep where he laid in his chamber, when he heard a knock. Then the door opened with a slothful creak, as both cold and the tears of a woman poured in. ‘Ah my lord, my crown and owner of my dowry! I told them you’ll come back— ‘Oh let shame be for my enemies! I told them you will come!’ Morrow picked the voice from the get-go, and nothing had changed in its nature. Yet that manner of greeting was the odd thing there. Plus, the fact that Wura was rushing from her parents’ house that late hour of night. So the man sat up on the mat where he lay down. He bent a knee and laid the other... Then he looked to the door with...

MORROW had turned the house upside down, lit up the dark with the lamps left there; and was throwing out water from mopping bowls. He was moving up and down, multitasking, when his kin showed up. First, Daleka went. He stepped around the door and took a long peep inside, some thoughts pounding his chests. He tapped on the hard wood. ‘Who goes in there? Show yourself, will you?!’ Then Morrow went taking out the water bowl. He was humming one of the war songs they chanted at camp fires. His mind was elsewhere, so he didn’t hear or see anyone. ‘Hey, who’s there?’ repeated Daleka. But the words fell like he caught a cold, as he thought he’d just seen a ghost. So, as the younger one pulled back, Morrow poured the water out and stopped... For he heard the sigh drop beside him. ‘Ah brother! Big brother!’ Truly, Daleka had given up all hope for his brother’s return. Yet it wasn’t because he’d lost hope that he did, but rather that he hoped so much he used it up. He’d expected his brother back ...

MORROW arrived at his homeland at long last, and then came to his own house. He’d plied paths that’d taken him from Ede to Europe—he used those paths back home. It was nightfall in the quiet town of Ede when the journeyman returned to roost. And it was quite easy to find his path as not much had changed. Morrow walked through the small paths between houses, and turned the last corner that led to his house. He wanted his arrival noiseless, as something to only mark with his clan. He wanted just his people to see him arrive. Oji, Daleka with his own household. But then the man turned and saw his house unlit. The structure was sitting in the dark, abandoned. Like a ghost of what it was before. There was no oil lamp burning at the windows. Nor was there a sound coming from inside. Truly, the doors and windows were locked. And cobwebs told him no one was inside. Morrow stopped out there in the cold, pondering what this thing was. Then he looked to his brothers’, notted they’d gone to sleep,...

IT was the Year 1918 and the Trench War, later called First World War, came to its end. So the warring states sent their fighters back home. Powers had crumbled and kingdoms fallen on the East and West fronts of Europe. And there were foreigners sailing back home, for they were paid fortunes who aided. Moro was most fortunate among the survivors, as he fought in war without having to fight. Still the man was paid in full. But it was 1918, a year thought as the end of cruel war and was start of all cold battle. For it was the season of dark minds when people dropped the bombshells in tabletalks and tea... And Moro journeyed home to face household war. More daunting than all of gun battle. [ 1918 – 1925 ]