CHAPTER FIVE ~ Dayo's Manners Remain Intact ~

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At the school gate, Dayo and Aisha said their goodbyes. About twenty yards away from the school gate, Dayo turned around and saw Aisha walking towards Bright-Hills High School. He stood there and watched as Aisha pushed the wicket gate open and entered. It was the second time he had seen her entering the secondary school compound. He turned around and began to trek home. "What business does she have going to the secondary school?" Dayo wondered, then concluded he would ask her the next day. Dayo was a little excited. He thought all in all; he had an exciting day at school.

He was already imagining about the activities of the next day when suddenly a boy approached him from behind and held tightly to his school uniform. Dayo tried to push him away, but the boy squeezed his uniform even harder.

"Leave my school uniform joo!" he said, trying to remove the boy's hands. The moment he forced the boy's hands off his shirt, two more boys appeared. The three boys surrounded him. Their hair and faces were rough. The first boy had a deep scar around his chin and was the only one a little taller than Dayo. Their clothes were rumpled. One of them had dark stains all over his shirt, arms and face. They pushed Dayo from side to side roughly, one after the other

"Shei you no dey fear ni? Eeh, shei you no dey fear ni?! Shebi you go report awafren" - meaning, "are you not afraid that you had gone to file a complaint against our friend".

"Abi you won cry ni?" meaning, "do you want us to beat you up till you cry?" the tallest of the attackers threatened.

"Abi you won cry ni?" another boy repeated. Soon each of the boys chanted the threat, pushing Dayo at the same time.

"Stop pushing me! Leave me o! Leave me o!" Dayo cried out repeatedly as he was buffeted mercilessly by the boys.

A crowd of pupils was gathering rapidly. In no time, their barbarous shouting filled the air. The boy with oil stains on his shirt pushed Dayo more aggressively, and he fell. Then, the one with the scar stomped on him there on the ground. He was about to throw a punch on his face, but someone held his arm and pulled him away from Dayo. Gently, Dayo stood back on his feet. His face was distorted by emotions. His eyes were soaked in tears. As he stared at the boys who had attacked him, they were backing off reluctantly.

Dayo tried to beat off stains on his body and school uniform. Then someone helped him, but the stains would not come off easily. He looked at the person helping him. A tall, male, Bright-Hills High School student. Dayo thanked him and then looked around for his backpack. Aisha came up to him and handed it to him. Dayo was surprised when he saw Aisha, but his sad mood would not let it show.

"Thank you!" he said, his face remaining bowed. Putting on his backpack, he then lifted his face and searched for the boys who attacked him. They were nowhere to be found. He saw Ibrahim and Abdul some distance away, giggling and saying something to one another. They saw Dayo glanced in their direction and laughed out loudly.

Dayo noticed that the actual student who intervened and rescued him was with two other students, that also attended Bright Hills High School. They were going in his direction, so he followed behind them quickly. He watched as Aisha walked in their midst, smiling and chatting with the youngest of the three bright hills high boys.

That evening Dayo went across the street to fetch a bucket of water after completing his English grammar homework. He was sitting on a very low fence close to the tap. He had queued up his bucket and was waiting for his turn. A taxi pulled up in front of a semi-detached, single-story building, directly opposite his house. The driver got off and opened the car's boot. He began lifting some luggage off the boot and dropping them gently on the ground between the house gate and the vehicle. The driver was bringing another bag from the boot when an elderly man slowly ducked out of the car.

He was dressed in traditional attire, accentuated by a tribal bubble hat, two red necklaces of glass beads that extended down to his belly level, two bracelets on each wrist. The beads were of the same size and color as the necklace. He held a handbag with his left hand, and on his right hand was a walking stick with which he supported himself as he walked some centimeters away from the car, clasping it. He turned around, stood beside the luggage, facing the car. The driver had closed the boot and moved closer to him. He dropped the walking stick on one of the luggage and dipped his hand into his breast pocket and brought out a small bundle. He then counted some and gave to the driver. The driver got into his car, reversed, and drove off.

Dayo stood still as the elderly man turned, went near the gate pillar, and pushed a button on it. He rang the doorbell five times then banged on the gate with his folded right hand. No one came to open it from inside. He pushed the wicket gate forward using partly his weight. To his surprise, it opened a little. He further pushed it wide open and entered. After a short while, he came out without the handbag and started to lift a bag.

Dayo sensed that the man needed help with the luggage. He ran to assist him.

"Good evening, sir!" he greeted, "I want to help you and carry them inside."

The man stood and ran his eyes on him. His face beaming with smiles. "You want to help me?" He fondly asked.

"Yes," Dayo answered, returning a fading smile.

"Good boy, biko help me, let us carry this big one first.

Dayo pulled while the man pushed, and they wheeled the heavy bag inside the gate.

"What is your name?" he began to inquire about Dayo.

"My name is Dayo," Dayo answered.

"Daiyo, ... is it a yoroba name?".

"Yes, sir."

These wrong pronunciations were not new to his ears. His classmate, James, had always said yoroba instead of Yoruba and called him Daiyo. Dayo placed the bag against the wall. Curiously, the man stared at Dayo again,

"Where do you live, is your house around this place?" They were both outside the gate to get another bag.

"Yes, this one." Dayo pointed at the house directly opposite.

The man hummed in amazement while staring at the house and at other neighboring houses. It was a suburban area, and there was a nearby mini-market.

"Yes," Dayo said absentmindedly to the man's humming. He was admiring his traditional attire. The picture of the lion's heads decorated the T-shirt. Dayo was counting the lion's heads when the man returned his face, and he stopped abruptly.

Dayo's house was a bungalow painted in brown color. The gate was half opened. Any passer-by could see an old, dusty Volkswagen with flat tires, packed in front of the house, at the left corner.

The man was impressed when Dayo lifted and carried the last bag inside unaided. As Dayo was leaving, he called him back and offered him some money.

"Take!" he said, his right arm stretched towards Dayo and with a face expressing satisfaction. Dayo stared at the money and was tempted to take it, but he stopped himself from accepting it.

"My sister told me that I should not take anything from a person I do not know." He said reluctantly
"You are now my friend, and soon you will become my neighbor. Take it and buy biscuits, you have helped me, and with this money, I want to thank you." the man insisted warmly. There was a short moment of awkward silence.

"I want to go and fetch water. "Dayo said abruptly changing the subject. He absently pointed at somewhere behind himself and towards the gate.

"You want to go and fetch water?" the man asked.

"Yes" replied Dayo. He went and held the wicket gate.
"Ok, thank you very much," the man kindly appreciated, putting the money back into his pocket. Dayo left hastily, closing the gate behind him.

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