The vibration on the ground was mild at first, then it became more as Ugo felt as if the earth beneath him was going to open. The roofs were not left out of the show as the cringing sounds of the aluminum roofing sheets could be heard from inside the house. Ugo sat up on his bed stunned and for a few minutes, he didn’t know what was happening. Then he heard voices and shouts outside as the deep revved sound of an engine echoed through the village. Ugo ran outside to see his mother’s shop being pulled down by a machine with claws just like Nneka’s cat. It had already scratched off the roof before he came out and was scooping what remained of his mother’s shop.
Ugo stood outside his room watching with his sister Nneka and their mother who stood with hands at akimbo staring at the workers and stopping occasionally to hiss. The soldiers guarding the process stood far off watching for any rude interruption of the process. After the machine was done it headed off to Mazi Ibekwe’s house which had a thatched shed in front for entertaining his visitors. The machine removed it like one, whisking a child into a warm embrace. The machine held what was now a bundle of leaves in its claws dumping it on the other side of the road.
The morning sun was just rising, it’s rays passed through the Udala (cherry) tree forming patches of yellow seeds on the ground. The trail of village children could be seen following the machine. They scattered occasionally when the soldiers turned or shouted at them. But they were persistent like the smell of rotten breadfruit, and they sometimes try to overtake the machine running by its sides and shouting before scattering like birds leaving one Iroko to another. Apart from the demolitions going on, it was a good day that required farm work to put it to good use. Ugo hated going to the farm in the morning, he hated the cold caresses of wet leaves on his shin as he passed through the bush path. His mother saw this as laziness and often made Ugo lead the way to the farm as she thinks it would make him more hardworking.
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Ugo’s mother mama Nneka as she is often called was already back in the house preparing her load for the farm. She turned around looking for the cutlass then shouted “Nneka” when she couldn’t find it. Nneka came running in, thinking something had happened as the day began with a memorable event.
“Where is the cutlass you used this morning,” mama Nneka asked, narrowing her eyes at Nneka.
“You left it outside ehh” she added, “You want us to completely starve abi”. She said as she walked passed her to the compound before disappearing into the backyard and appearing with the cutlass in her hands.
Nneka watched her mother approaching re-tying her wrapper around her waist. She was brooding. Nneka recalled the argument her mother and her uncle Benji had a few days earlier where uncle Benji threatened to take over the house and chase them away. Mama Nneka kept saying that the shop was built for her by her husband and it was only right for her to get the compensation funds that uncle Benji had taken from the officials.
“mommy sorry na,” Nneka said as her mother got to the entrance of the house. She kept a childish face which usually earned her extra lumps of meat during meals. Mama Nneka only hissed and asked her to carry to load out. Nneka knew then that it was okay between them as her mother would never ask her to do anything when she was angry, so she happily carried the load and joined her mother calling out for Ugo who was still inside his room.
Ugo rushed out of the room carrying a duet of white papers. He wasn’t dressed in his usual farm clothes and whore his black sandals.
“Where are you going to,” Nneka asked, Ugo, ignored her at first but answered anyways as his mother kept a straight face at him.
“I forgot to submit my result for the scholarship slot, yesterday mama,” he said then adjusted his belt trying to avoid the furious look of his mother.
“Haa, this boy will not kill me,” mama Nneka said as she clapped her hands together.
“So you want to end up working on people's farms and spending the proceeds on palm wine like your uncle” she added.
“No,” Ugo said as he raced for the road.
This Story Was Written for the Dreemport / Scholar and Scribe Challenge