Showing posts with label Mama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mama. Show all posts

Saturday, 14 December 2013

'Ejo': Hitchhiking mode activated by Eniang O.

Eniang (left) with some other 'Ejo corpers' in a truck

I finally got my good friend from camp, Eniang to send in a piece. He claims he isn't much of a writer, I'd say he did a fine job, wouldn't you? Doctor/Corper Enny is serving in a nearby town village called Bode-Osi in the OlaOluwa Local Government, at [probably] the [only] hospital [in the entire village].

Check out the post below:

"My mama told me not to talk to strangers" is a phrase we have all heard or even used at one point or another. However what you're about to read goes against almost everything your mother told you.

If 'Mayday, Mayday' is a military call sign for an emergency then 'Ejo' is our paramilitary call sign for hitching a free ride.'Our' here refers to youth corpers posted to OlaOluwa Local Government, Osun state, where I serve. To some of you,'Ejo' in the Yoruba language means 'please', but to us, it's more than that; it's a plea to mechanized road users to give us a free ride. 

Considering the location, not exactly backwaters but definitely rural, getting food stuffs, provisions and other urban necessities in that area is almost null. As a result, we have to go to our 'parent' town Iwo where markets, supermarkets, banks and ATMs are readily available and in numbers too. There are no buses in OlaOluwa and very very few private cars and really expensive motorcycles. An average trip to Iwo for a corper would cost about N150 during the day and N250 at night, and this most definitely puts a strain on our financial base of N19,800. 

So we've resorted to pleas for free rides on motorycles owned by farmers riding to Iwo to sell off their produce or owned for private purposes by indigenes in Ola-Oluwa. If we are lucky and I mean really lucky, we could hitch a ride in an air-conditioned Toyota saloon car to keep us cool from the afternoon sun. Sometimes 'business' may be slow and we could stand for hours trying to get a vehicle to convey us to Iwo but when the desirable is not available, the available becomes MOST desirable. In such a case you could find us taking 'Ejo' in pickup trucks (as in pictured above), lorries or like one very special day on our way to a CDS meeting day, a tanker. For some of us, it's really nothing to be ashamed of, we just think of it as our Ola-Oluwa Hummer Stretch or Limousine (I mean it's free for Heaven's sake!). 

The only qualification required to use this means of transportation is being a corper, a 'uniformed' man or woman (yes ladies do it, too. It's even easier for them). If you are not in your corper uniform then all you need is a form of identification, definitely not your NYSC ID card, though (I mean, you can't be flashing your ID card to every motorist on the road), rather your NYSC cap which can be worn on any form of dressing -corporate or traditional- for all to see. 

It may sound like this act is only peculiar to corpers but saying that would be a fallacy as it also occurs amongst indigenes. Some even go as far as taking 'ejo' to Osogbo, the Osun State Capital (guilty as charged, lol) or even Ibadan, the Oyo State Capital (30-minute ride from Iwo by 'Ejo', 40minutes by paid transport)

As much fun as using this diverse means of transport is (I mean, you don't get to enter a tanker everyday), there are attendant risks involved. One of which and most common is getting your beautiful attire or 'Ajuwaya' uniform stained with dust or oil (palm, engine or crude, lol). 

A risk you're willing to take you would say, right? But on a serious note, there is a far more grievous risk involved in this er, 'James Bond' transportation style and it's kidnapping.

Being corpers serving our nation in another state we are most certainly unfamiliar with, by logic and momma's words, we shouldn't embark on such dangerous activity as it serves as an opportunity for men of the underworld to carry out their unspeakable deeds. 

However, we are blessed to be serving in Osun State, "Ipinle Omoluabi", The State of the Virtuous and they are indeed virtuous and very accommodating especially to corpers, so hitching a free ride with this wonderful indigenes is virtually hitch-free. 

Moreover, it's Almighty God that protects us but be reminded 'Ejo' is not for the faint-hearted, it is only for people who are not afraid of the unknown, scared of the unseen, or fearful of the uncharted, so please DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. 

But if you do, do not forget to carry your 'Ejo cap', lol.

PS: OLA-OLUWA IS A VILLAGE, NOT A TOWN

Sunday, 8 December 2013

The dusty foot journalist: Vous parlez Francais?

(You like my unoriginal blog title? I looked down at my feet on my way home from this trip, and they were extremely dusty. The first thing I thought about was rapper K'naan's 'The Dusty Foot Philosopher'. I tweaked it a bit, and...voila! A blog title is born!)

      



Since being here in Iwo, I haven't really had many opportunities to put my journalism degree to good use. So on Friday, I created one. 

During the town cry (where we went into the streets of the town to inform the villagers of our arrival and invite them to the programme) at the ZRRE programme we held at Iwo-Oke in November, something cool happened. I met a villager to whom I spoke in Yoruba but responded in English. Then I said, "Oh ok, you speak English then?" and he said "No, my English no too good. You speak French?". In my head, I'm thinking, 'Where does this man think he is?' lol, but I was also very excited at the opportunity to put my French to work so I ran with it.

Anyway, after the ZRRE programme, I was narrating the French-speaker-guy encounter to the 'Chiefo' (refer to last post for meaning :P) of NCCF Ejigbo sub-zone, when she paid a visit to the Iwo family house, but it didn't surprise or excite her like it did me because there's apparently a 'French-speaking people invasion' in Ejigbo. She explained that in Ejigbo, you'd find at least one French speaker in almost every house. This intrigued me so much that I decided that I'd take a trip down to the town some day to check it out.

After several weeks, I finally found time to take the trip yesterday. I wanted to do some research on this French-speaking population and find out why it was so. So, I set out. I had called Chiefo to inform her about my plan so once I arrived, she met me in town and volunteered to be my tour guide. We went to her house first, where I met her landlord. He would be the first of the many French speakers I would encounter that day.

After confirming that he did speak French, we went right into it. I introduced myself and asked some questions. He explained that he was into construction and that it is what brings him to Ejigbo from time to time. He also explained that he is originally Nigerian but having spent his life in Abidjan, he and his family have settled there. I looked around the town to take in the scenery and I noticed how much land there was and coming all the way to Ejigbo for construction work started to make sense to me. I thanked him for his time and we said our goodbyes. 

Chiefo was on her way to the Ejigbo NCCF family house, which I had wanted to see anyway so we headed there. However, on our way, we made several stops at the houses of the French speakers in the neighbourhood that she was familiar with. 'Mama' was the next person I met. She sells charcoal to Chiefo. Like all of the other French speakers I met during this trip, she is also originally Yoruba. She lived in Abidjan for about 30 years but moved back home 2 years ago with her grandson following the death of her husband. She was very nice to us. She told us not to 'forget her' and to bring her whatever we could as she is old and poor. 

                           

We continued our journey to family house. We made two more stops on our way. Mutiu's house was one of them. He's been back from Abidjan for over 10 years. Like Mama, he's also just trying to survive, it seemed. He is a cobbler. I think he thought I was weird, or maybe it was just surprise 'cause he's not used to the kind of attention he received from me. I told him I was a writer and needed his photograph. To my surprise, he allowed me take one. 


Mutiu 
Our final stop before family house was 'Mama 2's house. This was the funniest encounter for me. Chiefo had actually never met this woman but as we walked, we saw her sitting on a bench outside her house and I said to Chiefo as a joke, 'I bet this woman, too, speaks French'. To which Chiefo replied, 'It's possible o!'. So, I asked the woman, and she said 'Yes, yes, mo gbo French ati Yoruba'. I laughed so hard at the randomness. I bet the goats in this town speak French, too! She was also very nice and was probably the most excited interviewee of all. On my 'But why Ejigbo?' question, she explained that if you went to Abidjan, you'd find that it works the same way. I.e. you'd find an 'Ejigbo people invasion' there, too.

Mama 2
After this, we finally reached our destination. I said my hellos to the Ejigbo NCCF family and left for Iwo.

 

Ejigbo family house common room. It trumps Iwo's, yo!


This trip would definitely be on the list of 'My top 5 experiences in Osun' if I made one. I loved every bit of the trip and it made me wonder why I wasn't posted to Ejigbo. In deciding to serve in Iwo, I had considered the fact that I'd be teaching French as a reason to come because I believed that teaching the language would help me stay in touch with the language. Only to arrive in Iwo and be told I'd be teaching English instead because if we did start French as a subject, there'd be no French teacher to carry on after my service year ends. But God knows best. No regrets, just wishes. :)

PS: I think we'll call this one a town-village.