Dr Fixit (131 - 140)

 131

The first person threw five cards up.

With gravity they all did drop 

dancing in the breeze to the hard surface 

of the path. Of course, the entire place -

being the GRA - was absolutely quiet 

which made me wonder if the core diet 

in the big men's quarters was serenity 

as noise to the poor areas was elementary.

I had a dream that one day I'd slip 

to the GRA and live there till I'm tipped 

132

and rise to see myself at the other side 

as it is inevitable everyone's tide 

must ebb. In the card game, the rule 

was who had more faces up would pull 

the win over who had more down.

In three throws, the first bloke had a wide beam

for he won twice but the girls did scream,

after finishing their mangoes, we moved to the stream 

as none of them could be in the playing team.

133

While growing up, gambling was solely a male thing 

and its elementary stage seemed to be the thing 

the boys were doing here - throwing cards.

Army ants believed who did this would find it hard 

to resist pools betting in the future. Of course,

we had seen in our neighbourhoods that a curse 

was the fate of most of those who played pools:

penury dogged the heels of their shoes.

When the girls' screams became harder, the game 

was stopped. Right now, what was sane

134

for the gamers to do was to get all

to the stream and then listen to their inner call

and retreat to a secluded part of the stream 

as the others would wash and have a swim.

We got to the stream. When the girls fetched 

water to wash their clothes, the boys at the edge 

of the stream dropped their stuff and trooped 

along to a pit where sand had been scooped 

and sold but now was abandoned. The game now 

was between Bendit and the bloke with the crown 

135

under the mango shade. Five cards apiece,

they tossed the cards up and in the breeze 

they danced down to the red earth full of grits 

washed clean by the rain and now baking in the heat 

of the blazing sun. When Bendit's cards were down 

by half, he remembered he had his mother's gown 

in the bucket to wash. The gamers made a promise

to return and square themselves off. I released 

a pebble I picked and it bounced off the surface 

of the water in the pit. We returned to the place

136

we kept our things. The stream was rowdy.

We bustled in the water even to where it was boggy.

We chattered and chased and bigger boys 

from other groups made it a choice 

to duck our heads under the surface 

of the water for long minutes. They said the place 

fitting for smaller boys to bathe was right 

at the bank of the stream. It was a slight 

to them we dared to swim where they swam.

One chased me and nearly caused some harm 

137

to my frame. But Bendit saw us on time 

and had swum towards us, hit him on the spine 

coming from behind the bloke of same age 

like him and also his classmate. The rage 

between the two was serious and led to 

a confrontation where they both blew

water on each other's face and threw 

deadly punches at the other frame. Bendit flew 

like a flying fish and clouted his rival 

across the eye. That marked the arrival 

138

of triumph for our group. Only the pleading 

and stiff struggle of his friends saved him from drowning 

under the pressure exerted by Bendit's arms.

After that, we all strutted on the banks 

of the stream like newly crowned champs.

The foe and his friends looked like aweful tramps.

I know you're wondering what made some kids 

after a downpour still go to stream with lids 

on some containers and none on the others.

And we did it not like we were given orders 

139

by our parents. In Antburg, we had one main source 

of getting water - the streams. Those with resource 

dug wells but accidents were prone as some kids 

often lost their lives. So we strode with our feet 

to the streams to fetch the water to drink,

cook and bathe. And today being a weekend did bring 

us to the stream to wash our school uniform 

as it wasn't yet the peak of the rains. The water from 

the rain in our homes could last for a couple of days 

but the rain might fall again in two weeks. The best ways 

140

was we go to the streams and wash our school things 

and save ourselves the stress of constantly fetching 

water from the streams for household chores

for at least the next few days. Again, the fixed choice

on Fridays was we washed our things as Saturday 

could see us going with our parents all the way 

to the farms far and near. The day after 

being sacred, we'd gather together to praise our Father 

up in the Heavens. Unlike the eight days 

that formed a week in grandma's heydays,