Onaapo-wura’s Missing 6 & 7 Books of Promises
Dear Senior Opupulepu,
Hope you are do fine. Me and my family are all do fine, fine.
Senior are you remember those days when that time of the month when payday is far, far away. Those were the days when even newspaper sef you cannot afford. At that time you know without newspaper you will have nothing to use to cleanse your behind after you respond to the ultimatum given by Mother Nature, you compulsory by force search for dried corn cobs. Those were the days that you will proclaim to anyone that “times are ruff!”
During those hard days when life becomes as difficult as cola nuts in a toothless mouth, you will quickly adopt a safety approach. Whenever you see someone approaching you who will naturally ask you or demand of you something small, you tactically and quickly say to him or her or both before they open their mouth.
“All praises be to Yahweh the Merciful, because He has looked down upon His lowly servant and uplifted him high up among men. Today, all generations shall call me lucky. Praises be to Yahweh, Holy is His Name.” Then he will make a direct demand to you saying; “My Brother, my Sister, immediately I saw you, I knew all my prayers have been answered. Can you give me ten thousand cowries to go and visit Hajia Fati’s bush canteen and buy some TZ to eat. It is almost thirty-nine days since something last dropped into my stomach. I do not intend to equal or break Yesu Christus Emmanuel’s record of forty straight days without food or drink, because, man, I am not God, so please push me something small.”
Of course, the audience to this your moving speech will be taken aback and will be confronted with disappointments in the front, because they had already sung songs of praises to Yahweh upon spotting you. And that made them recalibrate the direction they are moving and move towards your GPS location to ask for just a small hundred cowries to sort out matters of the stomach, and here you stand demanding ten thousand cowries from him. Certainly, that day cannot be even pretended to be a lucky day.
With the two broke men comparing notes, the only solution to the problem at hand is to say bye-bye and wish each other well in the world.
Senior, it is the case of the broke teacher which is very interesting. At that time of the month they will assemble the attention of their pupils and say to them, “class, class tomorrow we are going to domestic nature lessons and so each of you will bring something that makes the home domestic.” Then they will take out the class register, clear their throats and proclaim:
“D.U.C. Mama Julor!” “Present Sir!” “Bring three big tubers of yam.” “Yes Sir!”
“Nyogbo Teley!”“Present Sir!” “You bring half a sack of gari.” “Yes Sir!”
“Baba Liba Soja!”“Present Sir! “You bring two obolo live male rats.” “Yes Sir!”
“Ayi Atta Aryee!” “Not Absent Sir!” “Bring a medium size goat.” “Male or female, Sir?” “Use your common sense!” “Yes Sir!”
Each and every pupil will be allocated some produce to produce to skuul the next day, and these will include matches, kerosene, chewing sticks and soap. Come the following day and the teacher and poverty will be temporarily far apart.
Senior, it is this thing some that has befallen upon Ogyakrom, when our one and only Onapo-wura searched and searched for his Six and Seven Books of Promises to look inside and come out with promises to promise Ogyakromians to cast lots for him in the next lot casting festival.
Senior, Onapo-wura knew he must come out with a good plan, a good ‘Plan B.’ So he called an assembly of all Ogyakromians, cleared his throat, and announced to the assembly.
“Friends, Non Roman Katholics, Country men and women, I know you all know that times are hard, so good day, some of you. The assembly I assemble you all here for is to tell you that I am organising an essay competition. The essay will be under the topic, ‘What Promise Do You Want From Onaapo-Wura? You are to write this essay in not more than five and a half words. Deadline for submission is three days after the second market day. Please, marks will be awarded for good handwriting. No copy copying, except you are twins, triplets and quadruplets. No insult, insult, except if they are directed to the Great Leopard. I promise you that I will announce the winners and their awards immediately after I win the next lot casting by fire, by force”
Senior, so for the first time in the life of this village, people are asked to come out with what they want to be promised them with by politricksters. I am lost with words as to why the Great Onaapo-wura should introduce this kind of new style of approach of “telling me promises for me to be promising you.”
Senior, behold and be told that the confusion in the market place is basaa and equally divided. While some people have embraced the idea and writing the impossible, some are looking at the issue two-two, three-three, like a drunkard making his way home and checking how solid the ground is before he takes a step.
A certain small twelve-year-old has written to the Onaapo-wura to promise to give her a seventy year old rich oil sheikh who is single for a husband to be married to. She wants to be his first wife. Another wants the Onaapo-wura to consider his unemployment status with twenty years of uninterrupted service in the department of unemployed graduates, and get him employed in any of the big, big banks in Amerlika.
Another wanted an eighty-seven floors hut to be built for him in the Volta Lake and installed the Paramount Chief Fisherman of all inland fishermen. Another wants a straight road to be constructed in a straight dogo-dogo line from the coast in the south to his hut on the border with the village of the Uncorrupted Pipols in the north. A certain lady of night wants Onaapo-wura to make sure she is provided with seven strong and extremely rich bullocks of human males to service her every night for the rest of her life, which Onaapo-wura must promise she will live beyond age hundred and one.
Senior, some people are saying Onaapo-wura is a very smart street guy. Very simply he has nothing to offer Ogyakromians, because if the people made him to promise and he cannot deliver, he will say that it was the people who promised that promise, and not him. Case will close.
Senior, the commotion in the market square is confusingly basaa. People have started fighting over this, as those who are bent on writing the essay calling those against names like enemies of progress, and those against are calling them blind fools who want to lead the blind.
Senior, as for me, I am not into this, I am Dan, sorry I am Done.