DR FIXIT (NEW VERSION)

 281 'The farmer wielded a machete. Bush baby ignored his pain and clearly  envisioned what his next move should be as Mr Monkey was where he couldn't see but heard him urge him vehemently  to escape as the farmer had no mercy  to show to whoever he would grasp  and for such his punishment would be harsh. So bush baby with his last call-up  of strength, hurled his frame up 282 'a network of creepers at the edge  of the farm and followed the stretch of it to a mammoth tree. Quickly, he slipped to a branch which did ferry his bulk to the tip of a cottonwood tree,  quite massive, that every other tree around were under its massive canopy  and the farmer could only stand and wag his machete  at him, saying: "You're smart and I'm silly, 283 '"I know that's what you're thinking. Go thank your lucky stars, daft stripling. If you think I'd plant and you'd keep reaping, think and think again as the beating  you'd get whenever I catch you or ...

261 my friendship with other kids and the trust  grandma had of me would wear rust  if suddenly I was found to be loose  of tongue. 'But what exactly is the truth?' I secretly wondered. Why were all the tales not in alignment, weighing on same scales  all the arguments? In Antburg, there was big and small sins. If a bug bit you, you were free to hit that bug real hard. But if someone stole from your hut, 262 which was a big sin, and wouldn't own up, you took such a person to face the gods and immediately the consequences would be known though not all the times. Some ants had grown, it was speculated, wings and could fly quite high  to evade justice. And though hard the clan did try to curtail these tales, they were gaining ground  and prompted some their feet to pound to embrace the new way. The tale was rife  that some fellows could robustly bribe  263 the gods and taken to the shrine, they would escape harm as no grime on them would be found tho...

251 also to him. The race was a ding-dong. There is doom for the flippant tongue. I remembered that little tale and shut  my mouth. After the play, each child to their hut did return and hug his or her sleeping space. Where the kids were many and a common space  would share, they huddled together, limbs crossing. With grandma, I had the freedom sleeping  on a mat on the ground if hot was the room or jumping to the bed if the temperature did zoom  252 to zero as it happened in intense rain and also in the harmattan months. My train of thoughts shifted from the play in the moonlight  and I slept off. The cocks crowed and I opened wide  my eyes to see the shaft of sunlight piercing  through a crack in the roof mats. Stirring,  I looked around and listened attentively. I could perceive my grandma was actively  working in the rear yard. The machete  was hewing something. The branches of an orange tree  253 which stood near the kitchen sh...

 181 'or maize. If you're hungry, come home and eat. Right here, you're safe - from head to feet.' Of course, other people's things were on farms and private compounds. Government didn't tie charms to their properties. We were free to pick fallen fruits  in the GRA but not stone them - the same rules  applied in schools but to avoid rowdiness, an extra layer of rules (so we wouldn't soil our dress) could be added but out of the sight  of the teachers, we picked and gave them a bite. 182 Then again, some folks offered food and drinks  right at the crossroads to their gods. Only one at the brink of madness would pick them to eat and drink. Yeah, fruits in the village square were free. We'd slink to wait at the bases of ehkom and bush mango trees  during a windy day. As the fruits slipped from the leaves, we would rush for them. Ehkom nuts dried in the sun  tasted like a mixture of milk and sugar  and the bush mango juice was sweeter than Fanta. Agai...

 161 if any, that was hidden by consulting  their device which could be a wooden carving  of any image representing a god that would squeak  its coded message which they would speak  clearly the interpretation to the audience  seeking intervention in any case. The ambience  of the 'ahbiah hediong' did differ  from the 'ahbiah hebuck' for the later  would administer solutions  to maladies of any dimensions, 162 physical or spiritual, while the former  played the role of a sleuth that could uncover  hidden events in the past, present and future. The second took in patients, the first did not. We looked left and right  and then left (as we were taught) and did stride  across the road to the opposite side  and followed the crescent on the side  of the leisure park as opposite was the wall  of the prison and adjoining was the hall  163 of the Prison Staff Club hosting thespians from time to time. It was...

  141 seven formed a week in my generation. The seventh day was sacred but a counter notion  was embedded somewhere in the Holy Book: who had a chicken escaped from the coop  and would not chase on the sacred day? Some quoted this portion to lay a cover on their laxity to observe the non-work dictate every believer is served. But Ahdet, in grandma's days, was the eight  and sacred day and it is widely said  142 who ventured to the wood or farm to work  had themselves to blame. They were sucked  like water through a pipe into the other world and only through sacrifice and the word of an 'ahbiah hebuck' were they brought back. From both faiths, my grandma wasn't slack. She had often quoted me a passage  from the scripture: when faced with the rage  of a foe, change colours like the chameleon  to stay alive. When I'd said the notion  143 with an army ant was unrealistic, she had laughed and said the idea pragmatic  from the concep...