In Dependence

CHAPTER 1

Part I
(In the beginning)

SEPTEMBER, 1963 - 1969

One could begin with the dust, the heat and the purple bougainvillea.
One might even begin with the smell of rotting mangoes tossed by the side of the road where flies hummed and green-bellied lizards bobbed their orange heads while loitering in the sun.

But Tayo did not notice these-instead he walked in silence, oblivious to his surroundings. With a smile on his face, he thought of the night before, when he had dared to run a hand beneath the folds of Modupe's wrapper.
Miraculously, without him even asking, Modupe had loosened the cloth around her waist.

Of course they'd kissed many times before, usually in the Lebanese cinema when all was dark, but that was nothing compared to last night. And while Tayo was lost in his thoughts, his father, who walked alongside, noticed the smile and read it as excitement for the forthcoming trip.

They had set off early that morning to visit relatives, as was the tradition when someone was about to embark on a long journey.

They would begin with Uncle Bola in the hope of finding him sober. By midday, he would almost certainly be drinking ogogoro and this was not a day to meet Uncle Bola under the influence.

"An old man should be contemplating his mortality rather than dreaming of women," Tayo's father said, alluding to his brother's raunchy tales, which Tayo knew his father secretly enjoyed.

Uncle B liked to joke that he was still young enough to make babies and thank the Lord God Almighty. And he did make babies- dozens of them.
As for thanking God-well, that was simply a manner of speaking. Uncle Bola believed only in beautiful women-not Allah, Christ, nor Ogun.

In turn, women loved him, in spite of what he lacked by way of height, teeth and schooling.
Tayo had long since concluded that Uncle Bola held the secret to a woman's heart, which was why he looked forward to this visit.

But on this particular morning, Uncle Bola did not seem himself. Upon seeing them, he became quite weepy, so weepy in fact that he forgot about his atheism and offered prayers to Allah, Ogun and Jesus on behalf of his favorite nephew.

With tears still in his eyes, Uncle Bola gave Tayo his best aso ebi as a going-away present, and then insisted that they stay longer to take amala and stew with him.

"Here is some money for the ladies when you arrive," Uncle Bola whispered, stuffing the newly-minted pound notes into Tayo's shirt pocket before waving a final goodbye.

Tayo had hoped to stay even longer, enjoying the company of his sentimental uncle, but there were many more relatives to be visited and several more lunches to eat.

Everyone insisted on feeding them and then, just when Tayo thought it was all over, they returned home to find more relatives gathered to wish him well. Several of father's friends were sprawled across the courtyard drinking beer and palm wine while the children chased each other in the dirt path by the side of the house.

The women sat in one corner, roasting corn on an open fire, with sleeping babies on their backs.

"Tayo! Tayo!" the older children chanted as he made his way through the throng, stopping to pick up the youngest. Tayo expected his father to usher people away, but after the day's copious consumption of palm wine, he had apparently forgotten time, preferring instead to continue boasting about his eldest son.