BIBA (The fulani girl)

Chapter eleven

I watched with horror as my brother led the gentlemen to the big raffia mat underneath the tree. For a few seconds I was fascinated by the effort of the european as he struggled to sit gracefully cross-legged on the mat, then an alarm in my mind went off that took me back to my immediate problem. For lack of knowing a proper way to get out of it, I did what most boys my age did...run.

I ran and ran until I was out of breath and my feet ached, then I found a stone and sat down to catch my breath.

I looked around my surroundings and realised that I had never ventured as far in the direction I took. Convinced that I was a safe distance from home, I relaxed and began to doze off, occasionally jumping from the scuffle of a rodent or the movement of critters on my legs.

As the day went by, I began to fully see the folly of my actions. I realised that a delayed punishment was even worse than one carried out on time. I dozed off under the cool breeze of the tree and later woke up thirsty and very hungry.

I missed my mother's gruel that I always carry in a sling gourd. I was musing about all the things I missed and decided to look for a wild fruit to satiate my hunger when I heard a movement so close I nearly jumped out of my skin. To my relief, it turned out to be Bayero.

"You will grow up to be a bad herdsman you know." He said squinting his eyes to get a better look at my face.

I defended my actions by blaming it on the stealthiness with which he had snuck up on me. "Besides, I don't plan on becoming a herdsman when I grow up." I added.

It was then I noticed his small herd grazing nearby, how they reached me with such stealth was beyond me. He asked me where my goats were and I told him I was alone which made him look me even more suspiciously. It was easy explaining my problems to him since he was the only one that knew of my school visitations.

"That is quite a fix you got yourself into." He said at last when I was done. "I still don't get your fixation with these schools. The children there are miserable, I can tell."

"How can you say that? You know nothing. " I protested.

"I know enough alright, they are forced to wear those clean shirts with the collar so high up it looked like a noose. That in itself is enough to make one uncomfortable...too clean if you ask me." He shook his head and made a face.

"I think it makes them look nice."

"Ha! Who will pick nice over freedom? I know I won't. " He said as he plucked a broad leaf from a nearby shrub and examined it, "You are going to get a beating for it, sure thing, and your father is a very serious man, and I heard those kinds are the ones whose beatings sting the most." He continued.

"And how are your observations suppose to help? You are only making it worse." I was on the verge of tears.

He brushed away a millipede that was making its way across his feet, "Nothing, just saying." He shrugged.