Palm oil with which words are eaten.
Professor Obododimma Oha
This is one experience in my life that I will always remember, but, each time that I remember it, I shiver greatly and wish that I could forget it. It happened when I was a child, very many years ago.
There is one very fertile part of our town called Ogada. Many people flock down there every year to gain from that fertility in their farming. My mother was one of those who tried to benefit from Ogada one year. But I also tried to gain narratives from her and her Ogada experiences. She told of how wild animals would just come out while she was working. They would ignore her and start playing around, in fact, taunting her. Spur fowls, guinea fowls, antelopes, grasscutters, you name it.
I lost my head.
Imagine all these animals courageously coming out! Imagine. Just because mother went alone! Where is my catapult?
So, the next morning, I announced that I wasn’t going to school but would follow my mother to Ogada. My mind was made up. No logic would make me change my mind. If our teacher’s cane was beginning to weigh too heavy, he could put it down!
It would be wrong to think that my reason for not going to school and following my mother to her farm instead was that I wanted to help her. No! was only trying to see if I could help myself through her stories.
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