A link to my neighbours/Community · Fiction · Short Stories Series

Fruits of a Hustle….a short story and a link to my neighbours

Motor park

The Hustle Part 1

The Hustle Part 2

The Hustle Part 3

Collecting his accumulated Isusu from the thrift collector Mama Nchekwube was like a dream come true for Ikem. His skepticism had prevented him from participating in one before, until his friend Ifeanyi showed him the dividends of his own effort.

He had never held such an amount of money put together as his own. It felt good. All the ideas of what he planned to do ran around in his head.

Now, he would buy a nice Ankara wrapper, vegetable oil and share a bag of Abakaliki rice with his neighbour to take home to Mama for Christmas. She prefers the local rice to the foreign ones that have been de-husked. They seemed to loose the real taste of Osikapa, but the art of cleaning the Abakaliki rice which was known to contain stones, was only perfected by old hands like Mama.

There was a hurried excitement of Christmas in the air. Wheel-barrow boys were pushing around cassettes of Christmas songs by ABBA and also blaring them from their cassette players from one end of the market to the other.

You could hear the exchanges of customers and vendors over the noisy din:

“Ha! Nwanyi Bacha, biko, I need to travel with this blouse o.” ”When can I come and collect it?”

”Nne, you should have brought this material earlier than now.” ”You know that this is the season for us eh!”  ”I will try my best but maybe on 22nd, you can come and collect it.”

”Hei! Mbanu! ”Please 22nd is too far.” ”I am traveling on 23rd to the village.” ”Please try for 20th.” ”Biko!”

Indeed, it is the season of harvest for the tailors. They are turning brisk business churning out Christmas and New year attires as expediently as possible for all the holiday galore.

Ikem was gripped with nervousness. The money in his pocket felt hot that he could almost feel it burning through the lining of his trouser. Every brush of another human in the buzzing, cramped market made the butterflies in his stomach flutter some more. He felt as if eyes were watching him and he decided there and then to go and open a First Bank account.

He had never owned an account before and this time of the year is known for spikes in highway robberies and pick-pocketing. He had no plans of falling victim of such nefarious activities and losing his hard-earned money.

The remaining days fly past in a flurry of activities. As he excitedly packs his meager belongings to take back to the village. He knows that he will miss this place and pangs of melancholy occupy his thoughts, but he has to journey forth to pursue brighter tomorrow’s at Onitsha.

****

The motor-park is a commotion of human traffic and vehicles. Wagons are filled with families all loaded down to the teeth with their luggage for the forth-coming days of merriment. Conductors are shouting their destinations on top of their voices to draw passengers attention. Hawkers of all sorts of items, bread, boiled egg, chin-chin, kuli, kuli, soft drinks are doing their best to entice the traveling customers to patronize them..

Quick bargains are struck, last minute purchases are made, buses loaded to the last perimeter takes off with passengers, to Enugu, Ozubulu, Awka, Okigwe, Orlu, Owerri, Aba etc.

The Igbos are well known to sojourn home en-mass during this festive period. It is almost like a general return of indigenes. Some would travel for days on top of lorries all the way from the northernmost part of Nigeria to be with their families for the holidays.

Ikem boards a bus going to Oji, he cannot wait to eat Mama’s authentic Okpa and Abacha Ncha. These are some of the delicacies of his people.

Quick Glossary for words that you may not know:

Abakiliki: Abakaliki is the capital city of Ebonyi State in southeastern Nigeria. The inhabitants are primarily members of the Igbo nation. Abakaliki, as in the past, is a center of agricultural trade including such products as yams, cassava, rice,

Abacha Ncha/aka African salad: Native snack/meal peculiar to the Igbos but has become a well-known delicacy all over Nigeria. Made from cassava flakes, with palm-oil, oil-bean seeds, dry fish, garden egg etc

Ankara: African print known to symbolize African fashion.

Biko: Igbo word for saying ‘please.’

Chin-chin: A fried snack popular in West Africa. It is a sweet, crunchy, doughnut-like baked or fried dough of wheat flour, and other customary baking items.

Hei!/Ha!: An exclamation which could mean, you don’t say, indeed, what, really and a myriad of other meanings.

Ifeanyi: A popular Igbo name shortened from Ifeanyichukwu which means, nothing is bigger than God.

Igbos/Ibo: The Igbo people, historically spelled “Ibo”, are an ethnic group of southeastern Nigeria. They speak Igbo, which includes various Igboid languages and dialects. Igbo people are one of the largest ethnic groups in Africa. They are renowned for their tough, resilient adaptability as business people, traders and for their art. The largest migrating tribe in Nigeria.

Ikem: An Igbo name for boys shortened from Ikemefuna, meaning may my power/strength never be lost/or founding.

Isusu: An informal means of collecting and saving money through a savings for the enablement of kith and kin ventures.

Kuli-Kuli: Hausa food that is primarily made from peanuts. It is a popular snack in Nigeria. It is often eaten alone or with a mixture of garri, sugar and water popularly called “garri soakings”

Mama Nchekwube: Nchekwube is shortened from Nchekwubechukwu which means to have hope on God.

Mbanu: An expanded NO with a bit of cajoling added to it.

Nwanyi Bacha: A nickname given to the female tailor occupying the prefabricated shed where she sews. It’s like saying ”the lady at the shed” or nicknaming someone after their trade e.g. egg seller, truck pusher, driver etc.

Oji: A Local Government Area of Enugu State, Nigeria to the south bordering Anambra State and Abia State

Okpa: A traditional Eastern Nigerian delicacy, made with ground Bambara beans.

Onitsha: A city with one of the largest commercial markets in West Africa. It is situated on the river port on the eastern bank of the Niger river in Anambra State, southeastern Nigeria.

Osikapa: A local Igbo name given to cooked rice.

Enugu, Ozubulu, Awka, Okigwe, Orlu, Owerri, Aba etc. Some of the towns and villages found in the Eastern Region of Nigeria inhabited by the Igbos.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Links to the earlier series of this short story can be found at the top of the page. Thank you for reading.

As I foraged this past week, I found loads of treasure in the neighbours yard. I can only share these few with you and save some for another time.

Heenieblogsfood This Japanese rice omelet jumped at me begging for my attention.

Oneta Hayes I loved Oneta’s poem to the passing years.

Tagging ain’t hard people. A sensible blogging advice from Danny at Dream big, Dream often.

Women as builders a must read from the stables of David Snape.

10 things people say to creative writers (but shouldn’t) I found this humorous yet annoyingly true via Sepultura’s blog

Llama at sunset Bogota Piran Cafe’s photos always captivate my mind.

Love a girl who writes Pancake Bunnykins made me smile with this post.

Could you live with less stuff We need to ask ourselves this from time to time.

Lighting up the World with Edison’s bulb an old story from Shadab Rogers that gripped my heart 🙂

I’m engaged!!! Call me a romantic, but this had me smiling all through.

That’s it folks. Kind regards. It’s a weekend. Now, shall we dance?  😉

Some Nigerian Pictures

Creative Writing · Musings

Let’s get a little lost shall we?

vehicleIn a lighter mood:

Did someone say that Houston is hot or hawt during Summer?  They should try Dubai. There is the Sun, then Planet Dubai next to the sun, and Planet Earth with every other city a million miles away.

We arrived Dubai/UAE after 16 hours flight across continents from the US, so thankful for a safe flight. These days when you take off to somewhere, you simply hope that the pilot/co-pilot does not have any form of meltdown.

As we head out in search of our rental. The heat slapped us in the face with a punch thrown in too! Yet, it was sundown!sweating sun
No matter. We loaded up and set off to town, ready to settle down.

It’s Ramadan (no public eating until iftar).
It’s blazing hot.
We are hungry, jet-lagged and cranky.

Traveling with family can be a whole lot of fun when you get past the hectic leg of things and to make things easier, we always take a car rental armed with our GPS and generally try to find our square roots.20150703_235802

Taking the metro or taxi, with children in tow, does not really cut it for me. I don’t enjoy staring through the windows with my nose pressed to the glass, watching the city scape zip past as we zoom by. With a rental at your liberty, you can immerse yourself just a little bit more.

Luckily the fast had just been broken for the day, so we located the closest mall and delightfully found a Five Guys fast food, where we tucked into some real greasy burgers and fries à l’américaine.20150703_214325

You would think that with the blazing heat and Ramadan, that the city would be slow and empty. Not at all! The mall park was filled to the brim. Human traffic from all walks of life flowed in pairs and little groups and for a people watcher like me, (is there a hobby with that title yet)? Its simply a delight to my imagery senses.

20150703_214105

A full tummy, peppered with jet lag and heat equals to potent sleeping pill. Off we go to find our new abode for weeks to come.
The pilot (dear husband) sets off confidently, whilst I settled beside him to admire the shiny buildings of architectural delight, but soon enough my eyelids droop from gravity of sleep.

Half an hour later, I crank open my eyes and we were nowhere near our destination. Our poor GPS – which by the way, we had used on a previous visit – was thoroughly confused and was not updated due to the massive construction and upgrades going on in the city. It is a city of consistent newness and growth; getting ready to host Expo 2020. Familiar routes become a maze of metro networks, new hotels/buildings, road expansions and deep excavations.

“What’s up?” I asked in a croaky voice.Dubai

“I am trying to locate our hotel, but the GPS is not picking up the proper directions”, he responds.

“Okay”. “I have a map, lets see if that can help”, I offer. Mind you, I am not sure that I will make the Worlds list of cartographers or map readers – but at least I can try 🙂

Me: Map reader

Pilot: Husband

And we manage to circle an area a couple of times until in exasperation I suggested that we should simply stop by a metro station and get one of the empty cabs to direct us, otherwise we just might find ourselves in Kuwait before we know it.

My suggestion is met with silence. A cue for me to fold my map and snatch a few minutes of shut eye. I knew we would get there anyhow.

What is it with men and asking for directions?

Is it in their genetic make-up not to ask?

We ran around a little more, and eventually we were adopted by a taxi escort, that drove in front of our vehicle until we got to our destination, and in the spirit of Ramadan, I guess, he did not collect even 1 dirham from us, waving a cheerful goodbye as he left.

Wilted like two day old vegetables, we gladly hopped into our beds after all protocol and for the next several weeks or more, we shall be calling this shiny place, Home.20150701_120007

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Sun image: courtesy http://www.oc-breeze.com