The KT OLLA Web Stories

ON that replayed night – 1980, the clouds were dense and sagging over Banji’s house again. It was about a year since his housewarming. About this time, he’d be marking anniversary. He’d got to repair his whole roof since the storm caused wreckage last time. He’d got that done that time. But then the storms were back again with the fury of that first night. Like this was no first rain, but second. Like second day. Now they took their hymn in Yoruba, Wá Bá Mi Gbé. It says, ‘Abide with me’. Though, the storms still fumed. All of a sudden, the cloud sheets tore; as a frightening bolt cracked through sky. Then ice bags up there in the night, came pouring down in hails and water. And a storm raged. No there were no easy streams, or anything short of a torrent. It was African thunderstorm, yes – and those years, it lived its name. Everything flew in those wild currents. The trees, the logs and sheets of roof. Anything could be lifted of its root. Even a fatted calf drowned. But then, somethin...

NOW the heavy rain that poured wasn’t Morrow’s worry, that first time in ’79. He’d built his house with strong reinforcement. Something solid here and there, to withstand the elements. He was a learned man, a thorough-bred civil man. So, he planted stout trees in the yard lot since he bought the ground and drew a plan. He’d taken grounds on lease to grow crops, leaving his late brother’s farmland. Then he grew crops on fertilizers and supplements. So he used that knowledge to grow trees in small time. Yes, there were wind breaks everywhere in his backyard. Tangerine tree, orange and young mango. But the storms that raged defied him. They left those things, and went for him. Yes, tropical rainstorms were the kind that would shake things, root out trees and electric poles. Then they could throw a shelter about and drown hut buildings, too. But Banji’s villa home was a solid green wall. Built to last and outlast him. So, with the rains arriving, everyone went inside their houses – and Mor...

IT was the last days – or no, the second but last decade of the 1900’s. It was the 1980’s and in six years a dream would retire. Joshua Oyebanji Morrow was living his last days of prosperous work life, to leave that life at 60 years old. And in those end days, a sweeping tide changed time. It was the 1980’s and a strong wind of Pentecostal revival changed Nigeria. For there arose great new acts of Christ’s disciples in ‘Full Gospel,’ ‘Scripture Union,’ Elton, and Adeboye. Plus, a witness through them to-Morrow. [ 1980 – 1986 ]

JOSHUA Morrow saw what his foster kids did, and it hurt him a lot. He had thought he’d got children in his nephews and nieces, so he had loved them. But there they were drawing the line. It was thin line, yet thick. But then Bamiji went on raising them all. Only, he knew whose children they were. They weren’t his. So, when the males among Dekomi’s kids drew thick lines between them and their uncle, Bamiji felt so betrayed. It was payback that hit home. But God was planning good. No, this thing wrecked Joshua to pieces. He faced himself and saw failure. Those children were like the home he was building. And now they were crumbling like sand castles. No, he didn’t see future... just failure. For the first time in plenty years, the fact that Banji had nobody fazed him hard. But he knew nothing about God. That He could bring something out of nothing... like He alone can do. So, Banji sank several times in the squalors of that moment. He felt sad, lonely. So he drank even more and smoked. H...

EVERYTHING that happened and made Banji take on Abraham’s kids – everything was within earshot. Dekomi’s earshot. Well, Dekomi was gone and his oldest one was there. He caught on fast. The gentleman knew the cold rebuff that was served his mama. It hurt him more to watch her try. He hated that his mother liked his uncle. Then he hated that Banji didn’t look her way. He wanted him to respond, be her new man. No, stand up as their old man and care for them. Or better, not snub her mama like that. Well, he hadn’t wished that the man was their father. But then again he asked, ‘What if...?’ Then, Banji took them up and ensured they rose high. The first son was about 30 years. So he sent him to university. The younger one had written their surname in the way his uncle spelt it. He did that during grammar school. Yes, he had looked up to his uncle like to his own father. But now, he thought about this mess and hated everything. So, for his mother’s sake, he hated the man. He hated the fact th...

BAMIJI toiled on and reaped. He was made Vice of high school principal. But it was briefly. Still, life wanted him first. Well, the regional government happened to establish more schools, and Banji was made to start those schools. So, Mr Morrow was transferred away from home to start new modern schools then. They were junior and senior secondary. He worked for the olden state government of Ọyọ, which owned quite a wider scape then. It, in fact, had within it a widespread district then, called Ọshun. It was where he called home, and he was carried around that place. Now Bamiji settled in Ede of Oshun, a township so vast it could make a city. Then, he travelled to work in towns. Yes, he founded the high schools in those towns as Principal... their first principal, too. He built structures, enrol’ kids, planted trees... The seed outlived him. So then, Morrow got transferred from place to place. For when his seedlings showed promise, the planter was sought to help plant more schools. So, h...

NOW Banji moved to Ede and got transferred at work to that town. He was 50 at that time when Abraham died and he went home. Then time crawled from 1975 – 9. In those passing years, people grew a little more, and youngsters matured. The many children of Abraham grew in their 30, 20s and teen... And Bamiji grew into a father, the father of them all. Now among Banji’s precious things had been that wooden piece he got himself several years before. His piano. The man had given a thought on how best to move that chunk home, but he hadn’t found a way. He’d got a new car – those old days when the teaching career paid well. Then he changed it after an accident. Now all he’d got to move precious things were his saloon car, and a pickup. (The lorries then carried logs.) So then, Banji sold off that treasure, his piano. The thing was “heavy duty”— quote ’n’ unquote . Then he moved back home. The man took up new responsibility. He put his brother’s kids through schooling, paying through their educ...

NOW the group agreed like they’d got no issue with the whole thing. Like they were on the same page. But no, they’d got other plans. And that Plan B was the real trouble. Already, Joshua was the head of Morrow’s household, and nobody could force him against his own will. But Bepo wasn’t anybody. The widowed one mattered. Yes, the fierce beauty had got the whole womenfolk behind her. Sassy ladies from town and everywhere. She’d got friends in town and the village, and they were there for her cause that day. The households were seated, too. Truly, Bepo had been faithful with her husband through their married years. But she felt the space he’d filled when he died. Now she wouldn’t mind having this elite man here. Or no, she even dared to. Well, Bepo had admired Joshua since she joined their great household. She’d watched him go through school, and knew nothing about that life. Jo was tall, dark and handsome. He was every girl’s talk playing out of earshot. He was fantasy quite so far up i...

BANJI got a summon from home in the week following. Someone went from Ede to tell him his brother had died. Well, Dekomi Morrow had been in and out of clinic from time to time. And this far, his sickness had been well managed. But then his body seemed to have had enough of pain. So one day he rested this body, and passed. It was a painful loss for his family and for the children of Moro their father. Now Banji sat in the living room of Moro’s large house – the family compound-house. He’d returned in the week before, after he heard the news. It was a new week as the middle-aged one joined in mourning. Neighbours had come and gone, townsmen showing up daily; then, within a week their numbers had dropped... And it was this house left alone. Now Bamiji got ready to travel back to work, so the family sat together one last time. This time, it was to discuss future. Now at that meeting, the school teacher was asked to take in the widowed one. He was asked to take Bepo, Dekomi’s widow, as wife...

BAMIJI smiled. ‘Jonah, we are grown men. If anything, I should have got kids their age—.’ He pointed at the students loitering close. ‘So, what more do you think someone my age hasn’t done to prepare ahead? I told you there’s nothing new under heaven!’ Jonah answered simply. ‘You can hand your whole life over to Jesus. ‘You can let Jesus steer your wheels. He knows the way too well, so you will arrive at your goals. ‘He is called Beginning and the End, meaning He’s the A and Z of everything. ‘He knows the end of every trip. And just Him can steer you home!’ Now those words fell on Joshua’s ears as they flowed. He was going to ponder on them and let them thrive. But like winds on desert blades, the words drifted away too quickly. They sounded like some echo in the wind. By then, the students whom the men set out to watch were being scolded by a different teacher.  Morrow saw it and he went even more upset. Even things he’d got no issue with, upset him. He talked up. ‘Jonah, you know...