The Coal City Village Square:

AN ENCOUNTER BETWEEN SOME DONS AND AN “ILLITERATE” BONESETTER:

The cosmopolitan nature of Enugu, the one and only 042, attracted a multiplicity of talented people seeking to exploit the opportunities existing in the city. The lure, power and sheer attractiveness of this city used to be so compelling that a lot of youngsters abandoned their villages and migrated to Enugu in search of the proverbial greener pastures. As they did so, they brought with them their various talents.

But some of those migrating talents were not youngsters. Like one traditional bonesetter who lived in Ogui urban area (which some people derogatorily nicknamed URBAN JUNGLE).

So popular was this man that some footballers from Enugu Rangers, Vasco Da Gama and elsewhere who broke either legs or arms preferred the man’s services to seeking medical help at the local orthopaedic hospital.

In fact, as the story went, even some of the cases which could not be “properly” treated at the orthopaedic hospital found themselves in the man’s “clinic”. The increase in clientele brought both fame and fortune to this man.

One day, again, as the story went, some professors from the University of Nigeria Nsukka paid a courtesy visit to the bonesetter, whose “clinic”, remember, was based in URBAN JUNGLE. They explained to him that they had come “to explore avenues for possible symbiotic and collaborative research endeavours“ with the uneducated bonesetter.

But, again, as the story went, the bonesetter did not understand his visitors’ grammar. He bade them to find some space on his wooden benches to rest their bums.

As is usual with the traditional Igbo culture, the host presented some kolanuts to his distinguished visitors. While breaking the nuts, he reeled out a basketful of proverbs one of which was a veiled threat craftily camouflaged and embellished like a kind of prayer that says: “obialu be onye abiagbu kwala ya…” They thanked the man and greeted him with a litany of excuses, some telling him not to bother (about kolanuts) because they had had “something” already before coming to his house. Some others took their own pieces and buried them in the pockets.

The grey old man sat down, his eyes dancing from one face to the other, and attentively listening to his guests as they lectured him on the “various benefits to knowledge and the advancement of science and medicine” their proposed collaborative research endeavours would bring. One of them pointed out that one of such benefits would be to help “in modernising the crudity of the bone-setting practice, and easing the pains to patients so as to integrate it into mainstream health care delivery.”

While the eggheads were scampering and struggling in their efforts to explain their ideas and visions to the bonesetter in clearer, more understandable level, his patience was hitting the floor. As the man’s anger and disdain for his visitors reached a boiling point, he cleared his throat to draw the attention of his visitors.

The pin-drop silence in the room was palpable as the lecturers paused to hear their host. The diminutive, heavily greyed old man rose to his feet, with his eyes probing faces before him. Summoning as much decorum as his temperament could accommodate, he told his guests that he totally understood what they wanted from him.

He told them to wait while he fetched “something” from his inner room. As he moved inside, his guests started glancing bewilderedly at each other, trying to decode the man’s intentions. As soon as the man alighted from his inner room brandishing his Awka-made dane gun, his guests scampered and scrambled for their lives!

(…What followed thereafter ...?)

The Popular Oti-Igba Statue

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A SPRITUAL RUMBLE: OKIJA MASQUERADE VS. INYI-AGBOKU

Growing up in Ogui Nike can be a bit of fun; but sometimes, it can be scary.

Easter celebrations were usually more popular and noisier than, say Christmas, in Enugu. The reason being that most people travelled to their villages during Christmas celebrations. And this normally leaves Ogui, especially Obiagu Road, the cultural nerve centre of Enugu, virtually empty.

As kids, we used to converge in our small groups, singing and dancing to Ogene tunes, to the delight of our teaming spectators who would, in appreciation, throw some wads of money to us. Whenever a bigger and more fearsome, and in most cases, dangerous, masquerades approached, we would cluster, stoop and kneel in obeisance to the rampaging masquerades who would not accommodate, even little minions like us sharing the stage, attention and adulation with them.

And so, during one of those Easter festivities, we were plying our usual trade on the famous Obiagu Road when one Okija masquerade came threatening. Of course, we did the usual needful: knelt down, and continued singing and beating our Awka-made gongs.

Not too long after the Okija masquerade, well known for its ability to grow as tall as the sky in one swoop and as short as a Congo pigmy in another second, had passed us by, another big masquerade came threatening.

As we knelt down, including our Okwomma masquerade (chai!!), we heard the guttural voice of the deadly Inyi-agboku masquerade, singing some weird esoteric songs. The spirit, yes, that is what a masquerade is, approached us and asked us which direction the masquerade known for hitting its head on the ground when dancing had gone. We pointed the kindred spirit to the direction the Okija masquerade went.

The next minute, we were all spectators: watching the confrontation between Mmanwu Okija and Inyi-agboku from Awkunanaw. Sadly, some of the exchanges were conducted in the spirit world as most of us, little, innocent souls, were not initiated into voodoo practice. But the physical fight we witnessed was both scary and entertaining.

The Inyi-agboku warned its opponent not to hit the ground again with its head. But, after dancing for a second, the defiant Okija masquerade hit its head on the surface of the earth again! Then, all hell went berserk as the Okija masquerade’s head was transfixed to the ground. There was pandemonium: people ran helter-skelter, screaming...

(...Haven't you heard enough for now?…)

(Published on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dili.ojukwu/posts/3632655793428587)

COVID-19 PANDEMIC: COUNTRIES PLAYING THE OSTRICH-HIDING GAME:

As the World Health Organisation (WHO) declares the corona virus (COVID-19) a pandemic, the world should, as of necessity, now sit up and truthfully confront the virus that threatens humanity.

Most countries of the world should now

stop playing the Ostrich game with the lives of their people.

If any country takes this pandemic very seriously, let tests be conducted every morning in every public and private institution. The number of people affected would be mind-bungling!

From my own perspective, some countries are simply playing the usual political ostrich-hiding with this pandemic: they are not conducting effective and strenuous tests so as not to either shock their citizens or make their countries “less safe” destinations in the eyes of the world when the real level of infections in their societies are discovered.

The world should note this: the number of cases prevalent in any country is directly proportional to the stringency of the tests conducted in that country.
QED

In other words, the more the tests conducted the more the cases identified.

With all the noise about the number of cases in Italy, this is only possible because of the level of efforts and resources the Italian government has channelled into dealing with this issue.

THE ERA OF THE SCORCHED SNAKE:

"We have scorched the snake but not killed it. It will heal and be as good as new, and we’ll be threatened by its fangs once again". (William Shakespeare)

The Democratic Party's rank and file must be looking over their shoulders after yesterday's partisan vote in the American Senate.

As Shakespeare's Macbeth learnt after his Banquo's misadventure, the Democrats have simply "scorched" the Trumpean snake; but they have not killed it. And now, like a wounded cobra, Donald Trump would unleash the full venom of his usual foul-mouthed armada on Democrats.

The moral of the story?
You can draw your own conclusions...