Travelogue ~ My Journey into Kongi’s forest by Adamu Usman Garko
The night before the trip I didn't sleep a wink,
perhaps I found a stranger in me and he wasn't feminine. I couldn't close my
eyes, not because I didn't want to, but thoughts of morning's arrival kept my eyes
bereft of sleep. I prayed and when I get tired of praying, I would gingerly go
outside peeping through the window, my mind in awe of how I made it among the
eighty four finalists from all over Nigeria who would breath for four days in
Lagos and in the Abeokuta home of Nigeria's only Noble Laureate as participants
of the 2018 Wole Soyinka’s International Cultural Exchange programme held annually
to marks his birthday.
As the night steadily opened into morning, I
saw how owls made night a solace for their songs and how everything died for a
new birth. Although I'm used to staying late at night before going to bed, this
was the first time I vainly stayed awake for the whole night, waiting for
morning, because when it was morning, dream would come alive in a bliss.
It was 10:30 am when I bade farewell to my
teachers and headed, with our school manager and English teachers, to the Gombe
airport. As we passed the green grass beside the curbs, I kept staring at my
watch; it will soon be 11:00 am, the takeoff time of the Lagos-bound plane.
Boarding a plane itself was a far fetched dream brought home to me now by
destiny.
At the airport, my bag was checked-in and I
bade farewell to our school manager and English teacher. The bright smile I saw
on their faces was the best semblance of a glossy orchard. I felt strange, I
felt I was in dream; the plane was now vividly before my eyes like a balloon. As
I walked into the plane, every step was accompanied with a prayer.
I located my seat, rested on it and fastened
the seat belt. I thought a lot about the takeoff time, how would it feel? I had
a selfie then switched off the phone. It was normal for a Hausa man to keep
record of all strange things he encounters for history's sake and challenges. Nevertheless,
I am an Art student, I have been taught about history, the study of the past,
present and seeking solution for the future. The plane soon took off with a loud
sound and a prolonged quivering. It was something I never experienced. And we landed
in Lagos, a big city. Lagos is a state of numerous and distinct people. I loved
the serenity of the environment, no interference, everyone bothered with his
own, I think that's why, in Lagos, you're free to smoke till dusk. It's full of
people with different struggles, names--- survival.
Already, there was a guide waiting to take me
to the hotel. At the hotel, I at once felt drowsy with fatigue, but he
instigated I should eat before going to bed. I ate and slept like a baby. I
woke up around 5 am when the cock was about to crow. I prayed and had a bath.
The guide came and took me in a car to Abeokuta where all the finalists were to
converge on. Luckily, I arrived early, so I got the chance to quench my
curiosity before heading into the Cultural Center, venue of the day’s event.
I'd eventually love Abeokuta more than Lagos,
because, in Lagos I could only breathe the sweat of men all over the sky due to
their love for work under the sun but in Abeokuta, the mixed smell of dawn and green
grasses assailed my nostrils. I thought how beautiful it would be to dwell
therein.
When we entered the Cultural center, my guide handed
me over to the producer, a woman with a marvelous heart. She asked about my flight
and expressed her excitement at seeing me arrive safely. I signed-in a paper to
show my arrival and was given a tag and a paper; the paper contains a poem of
the great sage which I was told to go and study against tomorrow when we would
discuss its hidden meanings. A direction to a floor up shown to me and I walked
up the stairs stepping and watching
other young participants with luminous
smile all over their dimples. That was when I thought home could be in the
segregation of distinct people coming to blend. The Last step opened me into a
big hall lighted by white-yellow bulbs.
We were seated, everyone holding his phone when
a woman headed to us, calling for our attention. She would be with us all the time,
she said and asked us to call her Lynda, her first name. She made us sit on
some arranged chairs and wait for food. After eating, we turned to her. She
asked us to all introduce ourselves. About thirty students did then the next person
was girls whose introduction was followed by a loud clapping and applauds
because she said she could sing, and dance. Lynda beseeched her to dance, and she
did. It was awesome. It was my turn and everyone was curious because I spoke
with a distinct Hausa accent. A man hurriedly walked to Lynda and whispered to her
that I am a published writer. She said it out and that added to the strangeness
about me. Everyone was curious; their curiosity was hearing that I am
published, while mine was how it became known to them that I am a published
writer. They never knew that among us all only my name could be found on the
internet, newspapers, sites and magazines. That was the beginning of my earnest
friendship with most of them.
Lynda pronounced we would do some exercises:
debates, spelling bee, and cultural exchange. She grouped us and we started
with the debate,to share and exchange ideas, culture and traditions. By 9pm we
were all wearied and ended the day. Back at the hotel, everyone bathe and
slept. I woke up around 2 am and prayed, perused the poem and beseeched Allah
for a successful day ahead of us. In the morning, we were told we would be
visiting Professor Wole Soyinka's house. What did you expect but a grin over my
excited face.
The journey started like a daydream, but we
held onto the belief that if Wole Soyinka was a robot we were going to see him
today, if his hair was truly not cotton to our knowing ,we were going to see
them. It was a time for us to jubilate and forget the nightmares of dream, and
see the bushy comely haired African poet. It was scary when we heeded to an
opened way into a gloomy forest.
I never thought a Nobel Laureate would live in
this forest. Whatever it was, nature loves him and he loves nature. He lives in
nature and nature augments inspiration. We walked into a space at the heart of
the forest. We were given a poem to eat, digest and birth something out of it.
When we did, we submitted. Most of us were better at writing and not at analyzing
poems.
We had performances. And we eyed the sun on our
way to Olumo Rock. We first walked into a gallery, into the world of
sculptures, into the cave of designs and many adorned drawings and paintings.
We lighted the little darkness in us and woke the lightness in us to sway and
dig new things in the softness of our thirstiness. Then we climbed steps. We
climbed Olumo Rock and were shown a cave and told so many things about it. I was dumbfounded and astonished at the stories
this Rock carries, perhaps that is why sometimes history lies. Then I sighted
the first school, then the first television, then we walked down to home.
We showered, ate and discussed, then night came.
Early in the morning we were taken to Wole
Soyinka's home; forest. We walked to his tent,. We stood and waited for him to
come out. Whilst chanting ‘Kongi’, a name he loved being called, he came out
like some alien. We gingerly entered his living room with amusing chants as he
walked past and stopped for warm handshakes. One after the other, we shook
hands with him, passing out through his library. As my turn came, the sky
chuckled in my hand, his warm, soft sensual palm touched mine. As I passed
through his library, the smell of book fill my nostrils. How I'd loved living
there, to open many doors through books. Kongi followed us as we squatted. It was
time for prize giving and questions. I
presented an Art Work to him. I was so lucky that I was the only one that
gifted him such. I was the only one that took a personal picture with him and I
was so delighted I am the only one from the prestigious Gombe High School that
Wole Soyinka, would forever be remembering once he entered his living room as
it was kept therein.
We went back to the literary forest and had a
lot of mentorships sessions and workshops in writing after which we left for the
hotel for rest and prepare ahead of our last night in Abeokuta. We used the
opportunity to discuss and exchange phone numbers. We ate, bathe and dressed
up. We all wore our traditional attires and journeyed to the venue, last night
in Kongo's home.
It was the sounds of drums and the bright
lights from hanging bulbs that drove away the sleep creeping in on us. We came
down from the vehicle and matched into
the centre and eyed the enchanting session. Young talented dancers displayed
their awesome styles then a young boy came on stage. He danced like the poetry
that died in the mouth of the forest. We were also given the stage to give our
presentations. We were thrilled with comely performances. Fire burnt and
smeared over us its pieces ashes, we marveled at its style of burning and
chanted 'happy birthday, Kongi' perpetually.
We knew it was the first day in our lives we
were being thrilled and having a one-on-one encounter with the eye of Nigeria.
If history doesn't write us, we'll write ourselves into history and be the
history for tomorrow. The stars shone the more that time, our hearts were
touched earnestly by the love of the organizers. We came to the stage and
mustered our identities, and throbbed the heart of the flutes. Then the burning
fire burnt to ashes and we by then engulfed our body with the coverlet of home
like happiness. We forever remember each moment that still plays in our head
like hallelujah songs.
******
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Adamu Usman Garko |
This is truly lovely. Not only were you blessed to meet and spend time with a much loved and respected man, but you were able to travel and visit the wonderful forest. This adventure is now your history. You will tell this story to your children and your grandchildren, and who knows, perhaps you will someday step into his shoes as Nigeria's next poet laureate.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much. I'm very grateful, may God answer your prayer!
DeleteGreat One My Garko, you'll be reminiscing memories, may you clinch higher Sir.
ReplyDeleteThank u very much.
DeleteAllah has blessed you with it.We are very proud to have icon like you Adamu.Wish you more achievements in quick succession.
ReplyDeleteAmeen. Thank u very much!
DeleteGreat narration, superb power of description and imageries. And good diction to boot. Truly gifted, Garko. It was pleasure to have shared most of those moments with you in Kongi's Forest. Keep writing, Broda.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Sir, I'm very grateful. The joyous moments I spent with you people changed my view of life and happily it was the muse behind this stuff. Hopefully to join you next year's, if God answers my prayer! Stay blessed.
DeleteThank you very much Sir, I'm very grateful. The joyous moments I spent with you people changed my view of life and happily it was the muse behind this stuff. Hopefully to join you next year's, if God answers my prayer! Stay blessed.
DeleteWow! Wow!!
ReplyDeleteIt's really amazing. May Allah's blessing be with you always.
Ameen.
DeleteAmeen.
DeleteThis is superb! Always wish you the best.
ReplyDeleteThank u.
Deletefantastic. You will age with your pen. May you live longer than your ancestors
ReplyDeletethis is hillarious! i love the imageries used in driving out your message! Kongi`s birth day had been blessed with your presence.
ReplyDeleteYou know I recently embarked on the journey to the woods "Ijegba". Its an amazing, gay, fantastic and awesome fantasy come through i will never forget. I really wish I met you .
ReplyDelete