Ajaiyi and His Inherited Poverty

Title Page
Dedication
Ajaiyi and his inherited poverty
THE FUNERAL CEREMONY OF MY FATHER AND MOTHER
I PAWNED MYSELF FOR MONEY
WE WERE KIDNAPPED AND SOLD
THE SPIRIT OF FIRE
THE CRUEL KING
DON’T PAY BAD FOR BAD
I VISITED THE CREATOR IN RESPECT OF MY POVERTY
AT LAST WE REACHED THE TOWN OF THE CREATOR
WE LEFT THE TOWN OF THE CREATOR WITH EMPTY HANDS
WE ARE NOW IN THE GOD OF IRON’S TOWN
WE ESCAPED TO THE COUNTRY OF THE WITCHES
THE WITCH MOTHER TURNED INTO THE PUPIL OF THE EYES
WE RETURNED TO THE VILLAGE WITH OUR POVERTY AND THE TALKING LUMPS OF THE IRON
THE VILLAGE WIZARD TOOK US TO DEVIL FOR MONEY
I BECAME SERVANT TO THE DEVIL-DOCTOR
THE WITCH DOCTOR AND I IN MY VILLAGE
About the Author
By the Same Author
Copyright

I, as A
JAIYI
by name, was fifteen years of age, my junior sister, A
INA
by name, was twelve. Both of us were born by the same father and mother, in a very small village. This village contained only about one thousand houses. The walls of these houses were mud and the roofs were thatched with the broad leaves and spear-grasses. The whole of the inhabitants of the village were not more than four thousand.

This story happened about two hundred years ago when I first came to this world through another father and mother. By that time I was a boy and not a girl, by that time I was the poorest farmer and not as a
storyteller
, by that time I was the most wicked gentile and the strongest worshipper of all kinds of the false gods and not a christian, by that time I was the poorest among the people of my village and not the richest, by that time there were no cars on the roads or the aeroplanes on the sky but to trek from village to village and to cross large rivers by hand-made canoes and not by steam-ships.

By that time the father who born me got a very big hunch on his back and it was so for my mother who born me by that time. Having seen these their hunchbacks, the rest people in the village gave them the nickname “The hunchback family”. They used to call us with this nickname. My father was a farmer. He worked more than the rest farmers in the village, yet he was the poorest man in the village. Because as he was working hard in his farms it was so his poverty was becoming worse. My mother was also a hard working woman, she was more industrious than the rest women in the village but she was the poorest
woman in the village. Although my father and mother were the poorest in the village but they were very kind to our neighbours, strangers, animals, etc.

I was helping my father in the farm while my junior sister, Aina, was helping our mother to carry loads from the farm to the village and she was also helping her to do all the houseworks. “Remember The Day After
Tomorrow
, my son and daughter!” That was how our father used to warn us whenever Aina and I offended one who was older than us. Sometimes, whenever we did some evil thing that which the people disliked, my father would not hesitate to warn us again: “My son and daughter, remember the day after tomorrow because it will come back to you soon or later after my death!” Alas! Aina and I were too young this time to understand this our father’s warning and we were so very stupid to ask for the meaning of it from our father.

But after many years hard work, our father and mother became old and weary. So old and weary that both of them could not work any more for our living. Having seen this, I, as their only merciful son, started to work alone in my father’s farms as little as I could. Although I was still young yet I could get little yams, etc., from the farms to feed my old father, mother, my junior sister, Aina and myself.

One afternoon, my father and mother sat closely on very old native chairs. Each of these chairs was partly worn out and nearly eaten off by the ants. Rags and old baskets were hung on every part of the sitting room, while refuses, old basins, plates, etc., were scattered on the floor. But as Aina and I sat on the mud pavement in the front of the house and we were singing loudly with cheerful
voices to the hearing of our mother and father as both of them were thinking seriously about their poverty. As Aina and I were still singing loudly with cheerful voices, my father spoke to my mother with a sorrowful voice that—“I am very sorry, we are going to die soon!” Then my mother interrupted hastily with the same sorrowful voice that—“And we are going to leave our only son and daughter in our this poverty!”

Of course, Aina and I did not hear these sorrowful discussions at all. But we were still singing loudly with melodious voices and laughter to the hearing of our mother and father that—“How poor we are! How poor we are! How poor we are!” etc. After a few minutes that we had been singing this song, both of us stood up and we continued to sing this song loudly as we were entering the sitting room in which our mother and father sat. When we met both of them as they dropped down their heads which showed us that they were thinking about our poverty with sorrow that moment. Then Aina and I stopped singing at the same time. So as both of us stood before them, and then they lifted up their heads and were looking at us. I asked from my father loudly:—“Father! Are we going to die in this our poverty? But of course, I believe, you have inherited it from your fore-father!” As Aina and our mother were still looking on, my father replied with grief: “Of course my fore-father might have died in poverty, and as well as I am going to die in poverty soon. But now, I will make it clear to you that if father and mother die in poverty, it does not mean that their children will die in poverty as well if they can work hard.”

Then I asked again from my father with a clear voice: “But father, I wonder, you are working more and you get
more farms and crops than the other farmers in this
village
! You know, my father, this village contains about four thousand people, but we are the poorest among them all!” Then my father shook his head up and down and he replied with sorrow: “Well, of course, maybe all the other farmers in this village are not poor. But I believe one thing, that you or your own sons may be free from this our poverty provided you or your own sons continue to work hard.”

But as I wanted to know from my father how this our poverty had started. I asked from him again: “But you told me now, my father, that if I continued to work hard we might be free from this our poverty. But my father, I notice one thing that the more we are working hard in the farm the more our poverty is becoming worse. Why is that so, my father?” Again, my father hastily explained that: “Well, maybe as we are working very hard in the farm it is so our poverty is growing up like a tree. You should not be discouraged by that. But I will advise you now that you should continue to work hard, and . .!” But as my father wanted to continue his explanations about the poverty, Aina interrupted suddenly with a loud voice as she faced our mother. She said—“But I do not agree to our father’s explanations that we should continue to work hard. Because I notice that you, as our mother, is very industrious and you work more than any of the women who are in this village. But as you are growing old it is so our poverty is growing worse along with you! Why is that so, my mother?”

Then our mother breathed in and out heavily and she replied sorrowfully that—“Although I am very
industrious
and I am still in poverty, that does not mean that I
am destined with poverty. Anything can happen to a person who is born under this sun. But I advise you now that you and Ajaiyi should not be discouraged by our continuous poverty. We are not destined with poverty at all as the rest people in the village had thought us to be!” Our mother hardly explained to Aina like that when a middle aged man who was a joker began to knock at the door heavily. He knocked at the door so heavily that it broke into two and it hardly fell down to the left part of the sitting room, when he (Joker) entered unexpectedly
without
looking at the broken door. Immediately the Joker entered, he stood in the middle of the sitting room and began to look at the refuses, rags, old plates, basins, etc. Then he shouted funnily—“Hah! although you are not wealthy in money but you are really wealthy in rags and refuses! Is it n’t?” the Joker asked and looked at all of us funnily.

At the same time, my father replied with a cheerful voice—“Of course you are right, Joker! But you too are wealthy in joking which probably you have inherited from your fore-father and . .!” But as my father was still telling him like that he interrupted suddenly with great laughter—“Of course, a sheep never change its skin until it dies! So I believe, you too will not be free from your poverty until you will die! Will you?” the Joker asked funnily from my father. But when Joker said that we would not be free from our poverty until we would die, my father, mother, Aina and I, scattered suddenly to every part of the sitting room and we were scrambling sticks. Then all of us chased this Joker out of our house with the sticks as we were shouting on him greatly: “Hah, you hopeless Joker, cursed us that we would not be free from our
poverty! Go out! Go out! You hopeless Joker!” Then we chased him far away before we came back to the sitting room.

But we hardly came back to the sitting room when my mother became ill suddenly. She became so seriously ill that Aina and I hastily laid her on the mat in the sitting room. Then both of us, my father and four of our
neighbours
sat round her and we began to take care of her as quickly as we could. After a few minutes she became a very little conscious. After a while she began to talk but with a very faint voice. It was very hardly to understand all the words that which was speaking out this time. But when she wanted to stop the last breath, then she began to advise Aina and I as she was dying—“Now I am dying and I am leaving both of you in our poverty but do not be discouraged to continue to work hard. You will be all right in the near future if you … work … hard.” Then she died.

Immediately she was dead Aina and I started to weep loudly and we were staggering about in the house as our neighbours and my father took our dead mother to the backyard and then they buried her there. After she was buried, my father staggered back to the sitting room as our four neighbours went back to their houses. Having seen how Aina and I were weeping repeatedly, my father began to caress us just to comfort us. He caressed us for a few minutes before he began to talk to us: “Do not think so much about your mother. Because she has left this our poverty for riches in heaven. She is now in heaven and in riches!” But when my father told us that our dead mother had gone to the riches in heaven and that she was no more in poverty, Aina and I exclaimed with happiness at a time:
“Is that so? Our mother is now in riches in heaven! Very well!”

Aina and I were very happy when my father comforted us like that. We wiped away the tears from our cheeks at the same time. But after our neighbours who came to sympathize with us went back to their houses, I pointed finger to my father’s hunch and asked from him: “My father, I suggest that it is this your big hunch that which makes us poor like this!” But my father lifted his head up and replied at the same time: “Not at all! A hunch does not make a person poor!” My father hardly replied like that when Aina interrupted with a loud sharp voice—“But father, all the people who have no humps on their backs are always rich! There is none of them who is in poverty like us! I wonder!” When my junior sister, Aina, interrupted like that and before my father replied I supported her hastily that—“Oh, yes! You are right, Aina! I have been thinking of the same thing as well that all the people who have no hunch on their backs are not in poverty like us!” As I supported Aina like that then my father replied that—“My children, don’t deceive yourselves. A hunch does not hinder the progress of the person who has it on his back!” Then I replied with a doubtful mind that—“But of course, you may be right, my father!” At this stage, Aina had no interest in these arguments again. But she said suddenly: “Anyhow, let us stop the arguments about the hunch first. But what are we going to eat as dinner now because I am badly hungry for food and the night is coming nearer?” Of course when Aina said that she was hungry for food, we discontinued the arguments at the same time.

But it was a great pain to me as I could not find out and
know what had caused my father’s poverty from beginning so that I might know how to achieve it. But as I was also badly hungry for food this time I supported Aina that I was hungry for food. When my father heard from us that we were hungry, he asked: “Is there anything in the house to eat this night?” So, at the same time, Aina and I stood up, we walked to the pots which were in the sitting room but all were empty except a big pot which was in a corner was full of cold water.

When we found that there was nothing in the house to eat, we told my father that—“There is no even a single crumb of food in all of the pots!” After a while, my father asked as he pointed a hand to the pot of water—“Hope there is water in that pot?” So as I was looking on anxiously to eat, Aina replied: “Yes, the pot is full up with the cold water!” Then my father shouted with a smile: “That’s O’kay, my children! We have something to take this night then!” But without hesitation, I asked: “Are we going to drink water instead of food this night?” And my father replied at the same time that: “Yes! That’s what we have!” But as we heard like that from my father, Aina and I shouted—“Father, you are really destined with poverty then!”

At last, when we found nothing in the house to eat except the cold water. We poured plenty of the water in a big bowl and brought it before my father. Both of us sat in front of him and then all of us drank it with a small calabash. After we drank the water which was meant a dinner for us, then the light was quenched, we laid down on the mats and we slept.