I HAD NEVER REFUSED FOOD IN MY LIFE BEFORE

 

 

I was 4 years and a few months old. It was an exciting moment for me because I loved travelling a lot although I didn’t get to go too far given my age. All that said, I was definitely not prepared for the journey that was awaiting me this time. My mom had alerted me that we were going to visit my grandmother. She had visited us before, but I never got the chance to visit her at her home. She always brought a lot of bananas and pineapples and I loved them. I knew I was going to have a blast this time with unlimited access to these fruits; or at least that that’s what my mom told me to get me psyched up about the trip.

 

The trip was long. I mean very very long. It was almost way too long for a 4-year-old. We left at dawn and landed on her doorstep at dusk. We took three different connecting vans. The roads alternated between extremely dusty and way too muddy that the passengers sometimes had to walk out and push the van. I got car sick 3 times, which was 3 times more than I ever had. I slept on my mom’s lap for more than half the journey as I puked uncontrollably on her favorite dress. I could tell she was pissed as she wiped it off and gave me a polythene bag to use during my next bout of terror. She definitely did not want to be my next victim.

 

When I arrived, I only expected to find my grandmother but there were a whole lot of people just roaming around lazily on the compound. Some women were shouting loudly as they made food in the kitchen. The flame was really big, and it could be clearly seen from the cracks that lined the wooden kitchen walls. There were also a lot of kids playing around aimlessly on the compound. Some were busy trying to bust some macadamia nuts – I had no idea what they were doing the moment I saw them though. The place seemed strange and the mood wasn’t inviting at all. No one seemed to notice or acknowledge our arrival as they were all busy dilly dallying around the compound. A group of about 10 men was seated in the living room having a heated discussion. I was clearly instructed not to enter. I could either join the women in the kitchen or play with the other kids outside. I thought about the options I had and decided to join the kids busting macadamia nuts. I was pretty fascinated when they broke the brown shell and a white ball popped out, which they quickly scrambled for and shoved right into their mouths. There were plenty of macadamia nuts, but most of the children lacked the energy required to pop them open. After a while I decided to try my luck with one of them. I was pretty pessimistic about this entire process and after about 30 minutes of trying I gave up. Luck was definitely on my side though since one of the kids next to me soon bust one open and several pieces scattered all over the floor. I quickly grabbed one of the pieces and thrust it into my mouth. For some reason, I expected something really sweet considering how much each of the kids was trying to grab a piece. The taste was almost disgusting. I continued chewing though, hoping that at some point the taste would magically change but it never really did.

 

A few minutes later, as I was seated on the veranda watching the other kids tirelessly trying to bust the macadamia nuts, my mom came from the kitchen with a bunch of three bananas. I thought I would have competition for these too, but no one seems to even take notice of them. I quickly gobbled them up and asked for more. I guess my mom did not want to keep walking back and forth from the kitchen, so she brought a bunch of about 15 bananas. My grandmother passed by almost at the same time as she teased my mom that those bananas were way too many for a kid. I guess she had not yet seen the half of it. Within a few minutes, I was done eating and so I asked my mom for more. She went straight to the kitchen and coincidentally as she was coming out with another bunch of about 10, my grandmother was just coming back from the loo. “Are you trying to kill your son?” My grandmother asked with a shocked look on her face. “He says he wants more, what do I do?” My mom replied, almost unfazed by her question. She quickly grabbed the bananas from my mom’s hand and replied, “Give him food.” As she explained later on, there were some chemicals in bananas that had the potential to kill a child when taken in such great quantities. I guess I had won this battle. I wasn’t hungry for food anyway, so I quickly declined the offer for food.

 

It was getting darker by the minute and the bigger kids who had gone roaming far away from home were beginning to trickle in one by one. They were neither allowed in the living room nor the kitchen, so they all stood at a secluded area of the compound and began conversing in low tones. I was pretty curious, so I decided to go and join the conversation. That was not a very wise move as I came to realize later that day. One of the big kids spotted the hat I was wearing and said that it looked really nice. I was flattered until he took the hat and tried to fit it onto his big head. Needless to say, his head was extremely big so immediately he forced it in, a small zipper that was holding it from the back snapped and flew off the hat. He and the other big kids started laughing as they returned the hat to me. I tried putting it on again but it could no longer be supported by my head and so it fell off every time. I got cranky and started demanding compensation for my hat. The big kid who messed up my hat mattered “Stupid kid” and they all walked away as they laughed. I felt weak and defeated. “Why were they so mean?”, “What had I done to them to deserve this?” I obviously went to my mom to report this, but I didn’t even know the name of the kid. It was slightly dark too, so it was also hard to describe his physical appearance.  This case was considered a lost cause and my mom quickly abandoned it to go and attend to “more important issues” I was really angry at her for dismissing my issue as small.

 

Night came and it was time to sleep. One of the women came and collected all the kids who were roughly the same age as me. There were six of us in total. She put three of us on one side of the bed and the other three on the other side. I bet we were really small in size, considering that our feet barely touched. It was quite an unusual setup that I wasn’t used to, but it worked for us all until the following morning.

 

The following day someone got us out of bed at the crack of dawn. The morning mist had not even settled yet and the sun was yet to rise. It wasn’t dark though. It seemed pretty unnecessary to wake us at that time considering we were not going to help with cooking, cleaning the dishes or even going to the garden. The compound was deserted, with the exception of two women who were cooking in the kitchen. It seemed like everybody was still asleep, begging the question why she had to wake us up that early. Within a few minutes we were all served with a cup of tea and some slices of bread next to the fire. I was a great eater and the slices of bread were barely enough, but my mom was nowhere to be seen. I walked into the living room expecting the men to be seated there but to my surprise it was empty too. I was confused and at the same time scared. I asked one of the ladies where my mom was, and she quickly replied that I should not worry because she was going to come pretty soon. My grandmother’s house only had two bedrooms and we were sleeping in one while my grandmother slept in the other. I really wondered where she was coming really soon from. I tried asking more questions, but she replied, “Just eat your food.” I felt scared and really angry at this unhelpful woman.

 

It wasn’t long though before people started trickling back to my grandmother’s neighborhood. They looked well-dressed compared to the previous day. A few of the men were even in suits which was a pretty rare sight. My mom arrived almost at the same time and I tried asking where she had been, but she ignored my question and proceeded to undress me and put me in a basin containing warm water ready to give me a bath. I was raging with fury. “Why does everyone keep ignoring my questions?” I thought. I decided not to ask any more questions for the rest of the day.

 

It wasn’t long though before I heard people singing at a distance. They were singing worship songs like those I was used to hearing during church services and weekday fellowship at our home or the home of one of the congregants. By now I had already forgotten about my plea to keep quiet and again I asked my mom.” Why are people singing, is there a fellowship at grandma’s place?” Again, as usual, she ignored my question. I wasn’t going to let this go easily this time, so I asked again. This time she replied with a harsh tone, “Sit down and eat your food!”. I was already seated and definitely eating my food since the morning slices of bread had not treated me so well. I couldn’t understand why she seemed so mad at every question I asked despite the questions being so honest and innocent. A few minutes later though the songs of praise drew closer and closer until a pickup truck pulled up at our compound. I was totally convinced that this was a church gathering and since I was not a big fan of them, I went to look for the other kids who we were busting macadamia nuts with on the previous day. They all looked really clean and well-dressed today. They were playing some tapping game where one kid would have to run after any of the other kids and tap on them, then the other kid would have to do the same. The person who was tapped the least was considered the winner.  I was feeling bored, so I decided to join the game. I was tapped within a few minutes and now it was my turn to find one of the kids and tap on them. I bore no talent when it came to running and given my weight, I got tired pretty quickly. This was the longest game I had ever played since I could barely catch any of the kids. At one point I tapped on one of the kids, but they tapped me back almost instantly before I could run away. After a while, I was beginning to get frustrated and the kids were laughing at me. Some just passed by pretty close to me to as a show of just how poor I was at the game.

 

I soon went back to sit with my mom. Another stranger had already taken my seat, so I sat on my mother’s lap. He seemed really eager to talk to me, but I couldn’t care less. My day was already bad, so I didn’t want to sit through another boring conversation with an adult. I had noticed that the adults were very attentive when they spoke to me even when I didn’t care what they were talking about, but whenever I asked a question, or another adult came into the conversation they would completely ignore me. It was pretty frustrating, so I decided not to engage this one in a conversation.

 

As I was in the middle of contemplating my predicament, something caught my eye. There was a red box with some flower patterns on it. The box was supported by two stools which raised it to about the height of my neck. On top of it was a framed photo of someone I wasn’t familiar with. There were people seated behind it and I also noticed that a lot of the people who were roaming around had joined us to seat in front of it as they listened to a sermon similar to the one, I was used to hearing during the church service.  It looked every bit like a church but rather odd since it was outdoors and there was a strange box whose presence everyone seemed to ignore as they passed close to it. It was as if it was something normal that everyone was familiar with.

 

You would have thought that I would have learnt my lesson by now, but no! The questions brimming in my head were way too many and I had to let them out. “What’s in that box?”, I turned and asked my mom. To my very surprise, she actually answered, “It’s a person”. Then I followed up with another question, “ Why are they in a box, with a padlock on it, how are they going to eat or go the bathroom?”. She then replied, “they are dead”. I wasn’t done though. She might have assumed that her answer was enough to clear all my doubts, but it was more confusing than enlightening. “What is dead?”, I asked. At this point, she realized the man seated on the right was listening in on the conversation and quickly told me, “Keep quiet, the preacher is speaking”. It was custom that everyone was to maintain silence while a preacher was giving a sermon in church and therefore, I obeyed. I still had a lot of questions on my mind though. What is this “dead” that makes someone to be put in a box and then locked in with a padlock. It sounded like something pretty sinister.

 

Very soon it was photo time. Apparently, they had called out for the kids, but I didn’t know about it until my mum was dragging me next to the red box. I felt scared. Why are we taking photos next to a person in box? Are they going to let the person out at some point? Is this some sort of event before a big reveal. I was scared to come close to the box since I was afraid that I might become dead too and they would also put me in a box. One of the women pushed me back so that I could line up with the rest of the kids, who were standing pretty close to the red box while others were supporting themselves with it. I hated her for that. That was the scariest photo I had ever taken, and I was so glad when we were finally dismissed to go back to our seats.

 

I was very attentive during the rest of the ceremony since I really wanted to understand this “dead” thing. Nothing much seemed to be happening to the box though as people continued to speak in front of it and some cried occasionally. I was really expecting that at some point the person would pop out of the box. Perhaps if a miracle occurred on that day and the person actually popped out, I would be one of the few people who would remain seated probably smiling and applauding as people fled for their lives. Keeping my eyes on the box was a very tedious experience given my short attention span. I wanted to go back and play with the kids, but curiosity got the better of me.

 

Very soon, things changed. People stood up and a group of six men went and picked up the box. I was seriously convinced that anyone who messed with the box would also be dead and that’s why people were passing close to it but also ignoring it at the same time. These men however seemed unaffected as they carried the box away to an unknown destination. Everyone, including me and my mom followed closely behind. The men were soon obstructed from view as more and more people joined the progression. There were a lot of inaudible murmurs, but my mom was just walking quietly next to me.

 

Albeit belated, the final moments of this event came. I didn’t realize that at the moment, but my innocence was about to take a major hit. After a short walk through the banana trees we entered my grandmother’s farm. It was pretty empty, and I thought we were headed for the main road through an unconventional route but very soon the procession stopped. We reached a place where there was a hole. It was a big hole since I couldn’t see the bottom of it. Some people were standing next to the edge but most of them were standing a reasonable distance away. The men slowly started lowering the box into the hole and at this point I was convinced that the person was going to pop out and say it was all a joke. My expectations were crushed though when they started throwing soil into the hole. In my head thoughts were racing and endless questions which I didn’t want to ask my mom since she seemed really pissed at me for no reason at all. “They forgot to remove the box…stop throwing soil in there…what is going on here…why is no one stopping them…didn’t they notice that the box is still in the hole….don’t they know that there is a person in the box…but my mom knows there is a person and she’s is not doing anything…Is she that evil…Is everyone else as evil as she is…what am I seeing now…This can’t be right…probably this is part of the game…probably they will remove the sand afterwards…Why does everyone look so sad though…This can’t be good…What should I do…”. I was getting more and more nervous every time they added more soil on top of the box. I was almost going nuts by the time I started seeing the bottom of the hole. I was very short, which only meant the soil was pretty close to the top.

 

Thousands of thoughts were racing through my mind. My fear peaked and I could barely ask any questions now. I kept my fingers crossed that they were going to remove the person in a short while. It was not until they put the cross and flowers on top that something clicked. I had seen this kind of thing back home. Many of them in fact. They had also been there for a long time. It slowly started dawning on me that they were indeed going to leave the person there. Does that mean that all the ones I see back home have people lying below them in closed boxes? I was confused and scared as everybody started leaving the site. What is this “dead” that causes people to put someone in a box and then bury them in a hole? I feared “dead” now, and more so because I didn’t understand it and had the feeling that it could get me at any time. I didn’t speak for most of the evening. The events of the day were playing in the back of my mind like a horror movie. In fact, I was so quiet that people came to check on me to find out whether I was doing fine. I was always either eating or speaking and therefore this was not normal. My mom didn’t seem bothered though. I think she was glad that I had shut up for once in my life. She however grew concerned when I refused to eat. I had never refused food in my life before.