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The Agbalumo Farmer

Tagging him rich was belittling; he owned money.
He carried bundles around - wads he never actually sat down to count. He had no such time. His boys did that for him.
Coloured men were his friends: Mr. Browne, Mr. Whyte and Mr. Greene. He knew people.
He owned no organization yet his busyness boomed.
He was not an armed robber or a hired assassin or a contractor.
He was a salary earner who amassed wealth from under his table.
His well-wishers took him out often; to acquaint him with more people …people of considerable and contemptuous works of life, including the ones who wore white garments and carried wrongly carved wooden crosses.
“Mashababrikatetemalo ooooooo”, one of them said as he jumped around on one foot, while acting in the same way as Nneka the Pretty Serpent. “Awon ara ile e o fe jeki o nisimi. Won fe ri irawo e mole (Your family members do not want you to have peace. They want to bury your star)”, another said looking down while he played with his narrow-mouthed glass bottle containing three eggs…
…So he cut off all links to his family members.
He felt certain that he was rid of ‘every evil’, so he did as he pleased…
…He rained hefty bizarre curses – curses that only came from Eda Onile Ola’s mouth - on Danfo bus drivers, learners who gripped the steering wheels tight to their chests, and women who pursed their lips as they drove their little trailers.
…He spoke to his wife as though she was his maid. She called him ‘Sir’. Endearmenting was a sign of disrespect.
…He locked himself and his wife’s fifteen year old niece in the storage room. He had told her there was something important he needed to tell her… in the storage room. Before she could ask what was so important, he showed her. He pushed her hard on the wall, raised her skirt, ripped her underpants while she was screaming “Uncle. No! No! Please No! I beg you in the name of God”. When he was done, he tried to hide the disbelief on his face. He was too sure she wasn’t a virgin, “but where did the blood on her skirt come from? Oh well” …he walked away. He need not tell her to keep her mouth shut about the event. Even if she sang like a pelican, no one dared question him. He was everyone’s breadwinner.
His wife could not cry when her niece handed her the blood-stained skirt. She just told her she was sorry and reassured her that keeping the storage room incident a secret was the best thing for all of them. As her niece closed her door, she slid from her sitting position on the bed to the floor. The tears began to fall; they rushed, as if they had hidden in the corners of her eyes peeking to make sure her niece was out of the room. She screamed inside her. She did not deserve this.
She did as he desired.
…she wore no jewelry, make-up or body fitting clothes. He did not want other men admiring his property.
…her brothers, sisters, step-brothers, cousins, nieces and nephews and distant relatives made up a great percentage of his boys. One whistle and they gathered like stray dogs.
…she kept no friends. He said too many of her friends were single mothers or divorcees – they would lead her astray. He said too many of her friends were widows – they would encourage her to poison his drink. He said too many of her friends were Christians – they would give her religious reasons to keep late nights.
…he practiced what he saw on her in the movies he hid behind his shoe rack. Just as those sweaty labourers who pushed their shovels hard into high heaps of sand, he shoved himself into her mouth often. On other days, he shoved her behind.
She still had the blood-stained skirt in her hand. Her chest ached while she was in anguish.
She cursed him from within. Her soul and spirit wished him misfortune, affliction and unrest…
Where is he today?
In his magnificent house... surrounded by his big cars.
Big cars that do not respond to the turns of their ignitions.
Now he is no one’s breadwinner and everyone’s liability – his wife’s brothers, sisters, step-brothers, cousins, nieces and nephews…
He is their boy.
He is always seated outside his magnificent house, his phones in his hands.
He still knew people and they called.
“What happened?”
“It is my family members o. I don’t know what I did to them… They do not want me to have peace. They want to bury my star.”
…What actually happened?
He retired. He could not start any business. His well-wishers swindled him too many times. He sold off all his property… except the one he shoved. He had gone bankrupt.
Wake him up from his sleep, he will tell you…
“It is my family members… They don’t want me to have peace. They want to bury my star”.
He sowed agbalumo and wanted to reap cocoa…


  1. opeyemi southlicksMarch 1, 2013 at 1:19 PM

    ...nice job...keep it up.

  2. Crazy world whr pple blame othrz 4 their own stupidity.....Nice ☺


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