Clara was in her childhood years but facing a rather incredible difficult life. She was an orphan, the first and only child of William Clifford, and Mrs Amelia Johnson, but the fact of her parenthood would not be told, except by accident. Before then, she had often wondered if Mrs Ava clifford was her true mother. She denied her of many things a mother should normally provide for her daughter without prodding but gave to chris and Julie whatever they wanted or were good for them. Why? Is she punishing me for an offence? Such questions as this posed a riddle that bugged her mind ever so often and put her on a quest for solution.
Nobody was prepared to tell her the truth, yet she knew no other mother. She had at various times complained to her father, Mr cliford and the brash reply "she's your mother," was too terse, fleshless and unsatisfactory. Although she felt hopelessly uncomfortable, she wasn't prepared to resign to fate.
One late evening, she was in the kitchen alone washing plates and doing some other menial duties. In the silence of the little room, her mind was filled with hurtful thoughts about her plights, discrimination and slave status.
Yes, mum's wicked to me but pretends to be good when my father's around. There's an irony in this thing. How do I know? She asked with despair. There must be a reason a mother would discriminate against one of her children. She was almost saying these loudly when Mrs Clifford came up behind and began to smack her for being so sloppy on duty. She froze instantly but the tears she shed further helped to strengthen her stubborn will and the oppressive thoughts soon returned after the bashing and departure of Mrs Clifford.
They were at Dickson's chicken grotto for an afternoon snack on the western avenue, Lagos. While waiting to be served.
Amelia broke the short silence, "clara'll be three years at the turn of the week!".
"I can't forget that haba! Willams Clifford reacted, smiling as the plates of roasted chicken arrived. Munching a mouthful, an idea came to the fore in his mind. "Amelia, that's a delightful subject, I'm looking forward to it also We'll mark clara's year in a grand and unique style. It's worth celebrating despite the odds," he cleared the air while simultaneously drawing for himself another glassful of chilled coke
"Celebration? In what form?" Amelia asked, her heart already leaping for joy. Moved by the excitement shown, willam became more ecstatic about it. "Let's brain-storm".
"What could you have preferred that we do for clara?" he asked
"I want an exclusive celebration away from the estate, if possible out of Lagos."
Willam's eyes lit up. He knew Amelia liked a whooping celebration, but she wanted a quiet one this time around. Any reason? But why query her choice? He cautioned himself. His eyes blazed curiously as it moved from Amelia round the exquisite dining room with lots of wall pictures on the natural environment in Africa including wildlife. His eyes finally perched on a painted picture. It startled him and he stood up briskly while clara watched in amazement..
"Yes, it's a waterfall," he said in a rather high pitch tone. He gazed at the painting more closely, fascinated and struck by a vast rugged savannah land sculptured by blue valleys. Still standing, his mind began to imagine tumbling blue water down a granite rock face in an immensely hot equatorial weather. He turned back to look at Amelia, "you can't imagine the pleasure in my heart when I see rare natural environments with wildlife paintings like this one," he pointed at the wall-pictures.
"The picture's great!" He sighed, "it's a great piece of artwork, d' you know what the painting's about?"
Amelia looked casually at the direction of his pointed finger,
"yes willam I love physical crafts of nature."
"That wall sheet oil painting's the famous east African Victoria falls," he said as he read the description underneath.
"What has that got to do with clara's birthday?" She snapped, horrified by an unnecessary diversion, "Why that?" She blushed.
"It occurred to me that a day or two holiday at the Ikogosi warm spring will be ideal for clara's birthday. It takes us away to a quiet serene region of natural life."
"Where's that spring?" Amelia asked with a sudden jump of interest.
"It is in the upland area of the Yoruba hills in the east. The nearest town to the spring is... Ikogosi."
"Exactly, it's the ideal place nearest to my mind, a complete change of environment. I want to break away from the routine of a work place," she nodded.
"There's a hotel nearby on a flat top limestone hill with modest lodging facilities of course. I understand that the small hotel is purpose built, a kind of architectural design that suits the psyche of tourists".
"What else is there apart from the springs?"
"A botanical garden is nearby too? That means you'll also watch animals and birds in great varieties in their natural habitat."
"How many days can we spend there?"
"You've two weeks leave and I've three. Let's decide on that when we get there O.K.?".
"Any swimming pool there?" Amelia asked for an opportunity to continue her training.
"Well, the hotel might have one, I can't tell. A friend once told me that bathing in the warm pool when the weather's cold and the cold pool when it's hot is one of the greatest tourist attractions.
It's a refrain, william assured.
"Yes, I love it, good willam! Clara too'll like it," she bubbled excitedly.
"William nodded in agreement. Some beef steak, roasted chicken, cakes, plenty of lollypop etc. must be in the kitty for clara's enjoyment. Remember to make a special birthday treat for her and I'll load my camera fully".
"No doubt, am aware of my responsibility. Miss Adams the caterer will be delighted to do a birthday cake for clara. She'd get it ready even at a short notice. She's good at making confectionaries too, Amelia confidently assured. "What about birthday shopping for her?"
"You mean at the Kingsway or Leventis stores, taking her along?"
"She'd love it dearly willam!"
It was a wet season-afternoon and the weather was sultry, but the sun hid away somewhere behind dark clouds. Willam and his family were set to embark on their holiday in the upland area of the eastern Yoruba country. They were all in high spirits visiting the very sport where the warm and cold springs burst out and met.
The day, a Saturday began with putting finishing touches to their preparations. They were ready to move in the morning but the sky refused to open, the atmosphere was dim and the air damp. The black bands of clouds formed in layers and drizzles and showers fell interchangeably. In between, the clouds scattered and freak sunshine appeared with amazing heat. Sam Wasn't worried. Amelia was however not so much at ease with rains marring her travel day.
"This is a wet season, it's nothing unusual," William remarked.
Clara, singing, laughing and calling "Mum! Muml" walked into the bedroom, asking to look at what's in the bag? She showed excitement at her new dresses and shoes, the menu packs and of course the bustling atmosphere of the house. She was eager to travel and see new places, never knowing anything or what a spring is. The impression of a joyful occasion was enough to cause an intense excitement.
let's go Mom! Let's go!" she anxiously demanded in the short sentences she was capable of.
"The rain is set to hold back the journey. Amelia screamed from her room. Willam then walked in, hopeful as ever.
"No, Amelia, it won't," he countered. "Nobody fears the wet season rains, it's friendly with its ever cool breezes".
"It weakens the high spirit, I mean has taken steam off the trip, she feared but smiled quizzically.
"It's for good," William insisted, "cold weather has its charms, let's get cracking, he announced putting an arm round her shoulder after a peck and then bent low to lift up clara who had raised up her hands wanting to be carried.
"You're jealous you whiz-kid, wanting to do whatever your mum does," he remarked as the little one raised up her cheek for a peck.
They were in an old forty-seater Bedford mini-bus, somehow ramshackle one of the few available means.
The showers continued, but the excitement remained. Sitting on her mother's laps, clara was nibbling at a sausage roll while eyeing the fruit (mango) in her father's hand. "Finish that and you'll have it," William told her. She however stretched her hand insistently but unable to muster the words," I want it now daddy." screaming and knocking about her head.
The cold air rushing fiercely through the side windows bit less on clara, thanks to the airtight muffler and the knee-high thick wool socks. They provided the needed sanctuary from cold. Not so for the elder folks in the bus who folded hands across their chests in the stiffening cold winds, penetrating forcefully as the bus cut through the forest road.
Clara hadn't a dull moment, creating excitements by her play tricks, singing and clapping. Her parents and some of the co-passengers shared the moments with her, hailing and imitating the claps, whooping and giggling. It was all so amusing to her. The ten tonne bus buzzed with increasing speed that swallowed any other sound in the environment. The cold was soon to beat the passengers into silence and clara also to start dozing.
Shortly however, the bus ran into bumpy portions of the road. The resultant rocking and jamming of the vehicle sometimes were breathtaking and the restlessness occasioned by it made the passengers wary in spirit as the body got tired too.
The shrinking cold had caught up with Wumi who also had to cope with clara's enormous weight: both had taken tolls on her. Looking at willam with pleading eyes, she opened up.
"Clara's weight can't be ignored, I'm reeling under it," she said.
"Yes of course". Willam said, "She eats a lot and she's growing fast. It's the characteristics of her age, isn't it?"
"Won't you carry her.. please I've to muffle up, I fear I might catch the cold."
"My little Pearl of jewel, she is tired too. She'd be three years in twelve hours time, come on my laps," william agreed to carry her. "She deserves her weight".
Relieved, Amelia closed breaking at intervals by humming noise from sleeping passengers and bumping tyres on the rugged road. A series of sharp bumps finally put a stop to her dozing and she lost sleep. She brightened up. Next, her eyes sought Bimbo's clear blues eyes moving involuntarily. She smiled lightly, and snuggled back into her father's arms.
"You're back?" Willam observed, also wondering at Wumi's dull open eyes.
"I can't sleep much amidst the noise and the bumping of the bus"
"My little pearl of jewel is not sleeping either!"
She's always very tensed and wakeful when travelling," Amelia said of clara.
"I can notice that," he said, looking at clara's sharp and bright blue eyes as he pecked at her chubby fluffy cheeks. Clara yawned with a wide opened month, revealing all her impeccably white chiseled young milk teeth." She'd go back to sleep again, Sam predicted.
"O.K. clara, let's sing again, don't you like it?" Wumi asked and clara laughed and croaked after her mum, imitating some few words and short phrases. The tune was what really delighted her.
Our wet season's guests are here
Black clouds, puffing big bellies.
Thunders, clap and crash in furies.
Rainstorms roar, lightning flash naked lights.
The moon's frightened, keeps away! Behind black clouds the sun blinks timid light.
Storms whistle, dark cumulus spread.
Tall tears drop in millions, whiz! whiz!
The sky weeps and the winds sink.
Mother it's cold, the children cuddled up together.
Sunrise today, sunset looms in the west
No thunderstorms, warmth all day long.
Children are longing to play and sing tonight.
Shake off fright, come this night, moon.
Come moon, our monthly lovely guest, come
Repeating the song several times with clapping gave a lullaby effect as clara's eyes twitched and twitched. She yawned and yawned. Her eyes blinked and rolled over until she fell asleep again. The little pearl of jewel had slept blissfully and contentedly in the bosom of her father where she snuggled. It would never occur to the unmarried parents that the smiles, laughter, clapping
and all the pleasures of the moment were indeed a prelude to something which humans have not found a clue. The beauty was that all the three shared the jolly-go-well in absolute innocence and happiness unbound.
Nothing delighted willam so much than the happiness and the well being of Amelia and their daughter clara and he had had much of it since the day started. While in that merry disposition, something struck in his mind. It was the string beads, which he kept in a box and buried under his bed, a secret kept away from Wumi's knowledge. He felt guilt in his heart but still restrained himself. Suppose there's a tragedy of death...the bead is lost forever, and the reality shook him like a tremor. Oh yes! I've a diary with Mr. David, he recalled, he'd read the story and the instructions, he assured himself. Well it isn't my making Amelia, he whined silently as he stole a glimpse at her face, I've to obey ...obedience it is, he pondered in his solitary mind; "a first law in heaven, the sages say".
There's something quite unusual about this rain, Amelia quipped. She pulled aside the small glass window nearest to her and peeped at the sky, the rain's not even abating and she drew back and looked across the faces of co-passengers. No one looked disturbed and she was surprised. Why? But I'm worried, am I alone? Willam's not worried too, she pondered as a certain fear crept up in a corner of her heart like a ghost. The pattern of rain is different today and she was forced to talk to Sam, about the possibility of flooding.
"It's falling non-stop outside," she raised her voice a little, "And it's been like this since morning".
"True!" William said," it's remarkable and pleasant to have such a dull and rainy day. Don't you ever be too worried," he responded, noticing wrinkles on her forehead.
"Alright I agree, but aren't you bothered by the continuity? It's fearsome and portends. I've a hunch about a terrible flood and you know that flood brings disaster," she expressed her mind's apprehensions.
"I can't discount that, but we're on a plain road... no flood disaster...be at peace".
Shortly, the bus began to approach the notorious river Owena bridge, but the wavy road didn't permit a long range viewing. However a woman passenger on the front seat, and a conversant itinerant trader on the road knew that the bridge was near enough and raised a warning "eh driver, driver!" she hollered
"What's it Ma?"
"River Owena might have been flooded, it's always the case on a rainy day like this," She alerted. "Don't rush through the bridge
The driver, Mr John thought otherwise. He had had more than twenty years experience driving on the road. "The river might be flooded, but it's nothing to worry about, a flooded river Owena isn't an unusual encounter on a rainy day. The river herself is kind and pleasant," he replied superstitiously.
At the bridge's entry point, the driver halted, and made a random assessment based on former knowledge as he sat tight in the driver's seat. Mrs Priscila another itinerant trader on the road wasn't convinced. "Don't go over the bridge," she shouted, "go down first and see for sure!"
"Why?" John the driver shouted back, I've a good judgement on the behaviour of this river, it protects rather than steals lives."
"Let's be sure," she insisted
The heavily silted floodwater had risen over the bridge and was sweeping everywhere. Hours of rainfall had increased the flood's capacity to no end. Yet to an ordinary eye it was still river Owena, incidentally John belonged to that school. "The bridge is the way, no other way and we must pass through it," he shouted at Mrs Priscila right behind him, you won't teach me my work."
Thus he ignored the cries, the screams and protests from the suspicious passengers as he bull headedly entered the bridge Midway, "the bridge's strong," he replied his critics for confidence They were in the middle of the bridge already, what could the passengers do? They screamed and raised prayers to Jesus or Allah begging to overlook their sins and protect them. "Death! O death!" They screamed when the bridge creaked and a tyre climbed an obstacle.
Near the bridge end the front tyres stuck, advance or reverse became impossible. Slowly the bridge sagged under the bus. The passengers, restless and frightened scrambled to get down. "Better stay where you are or jump into Owena and be washed off," the driver warned amidst confusion. He however suggested no alternative, he already confused and threatened. Below, the angry flood was fumed, rose up like sea waves, ready to wash off its victims. Sheets of foaming floods splashed the sides of the mini bus spilling into the vehicle.
Time ran faster than expected. The bridge rocked loudly and gave way and the mini bus nosedived into river Owena, sinking rapidly until it hit the deep riverbed. The rear tyres hosted up and rolled on its frames. The flood had a free day swooping over the body of the mini bus. Struggle for survival became critical, and it was everyone for him or herself. As in all things, the fittest only survived and that was for the negligible few who could swim.
The few were soon scattered about on the stream swimming against the flood in their attempt to save dear lives. For the majority who couldn't swim, death was the ultimate as they dipped in silt water and gagged for death.
Amelia was a heroine, displaying an unusual courage in the dark silted water. She had indeed done a stint on swimming sessions but hadn't acquired the skill to save the day for her. With a little clubhouse swimming experience, willam grabbed and held tight to clara's arm, as he pushed against the fierce river to get off mid-stream by a ditch effort. He managed to reach a sharp bend near the bank. The bend was a sandy beach that was also threatened by the flood. With all his might, he threw clara up the beach and thus saved her from the angry river. He thrust himself back to face the powerfully surging river to help Amelia out, he had spotted her dipping down in the river. He managed to get a hold of her but she had lost strength to remain afloat, becoming too much of a load for him. In the survival struggle, they came up against a powerful resurgence of sheet water which crudely beat him back and he lost his grip of Amelia. Both of them went under gulping floodwater in mega dozes. They both lost momentum and they dipped like several other passengers.
The hungry and angry river Owena had taken sacrificial lambs believed the motley crowd of villagers who had gathered near the bridge. It was the perception of the villagers in times of flood when goats and sheep were slain in sacrifice to appease the mighty river, that the river goddess must take her dues sometimes. "Oh heavens. They cried, "those who are opposed to worshipping the goddess...bring the wrath of the goddess."