Several years ago, talking about when youths of today were probably kids and toddlers, Okpella was the economic powerhouse
of Edo State.
I am not about to throw figures at your face. It
could be boring crunching those figures.
But could you rather reflect and remind me those
cherished memory of the yesteryears? In these memories laid the economic powerhouse
Okpella stood for.
Ah! Please read or listen to me for a few seconds
less I forget my own cherished memory.
My aunt, she was in the league of people you and
I describe as those in the diaspora today, lived in Awuyemi (she is still
there). Along with my cousins back home in Ogute, I often scheduled a visit to
her. They were often unannounced, which she did not seem to cherish.
But it had better be a day we would be off-duty;
I mean a day we would not go to the farm. Such days were few but they did come
somehow.
And they were among the most cherished days in
our lives then. But getting our parents to consent to our little adventure was
as difficult as the rarity of the free days.
My mother was not too difficult to convince. An
assurance that the privilege to visit her sister would not be abused was enough
to convince her.
But I had better sneaked away than to inform my
father who is now late. His no was almost predictable and often irrevocable.
As frustrating as dad’s no was, the refusal to
grant permission was enough check on me. I could only proceed on the journey at
my own puerile.
It made no difference whether he was at home to
monitor me or not. That he had not given his consent was an adequate policing machinery. And
I cannot remember if I ever flouted his no.
To be continued
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