I am writing this piece onboard
My destination?
The very helpful air hostesses are doing all they could to make passengers comfortable and to make the flight a pleasant one. I have just received some snacks and a cold can of ginger ale as breakfast as I look forward to lunchtime and to the routine question of - chicken, beef or fish?
About a year ago, I was elated to end my reporting assignment in
I have been privileged to work in
Starting my primary education in
As a pupil of the
Amid political intrigues, I was one day caned by a teacher for merely singing. In class? Of course not! It was lunchtime and yours truly was sitting under a tree with a friend waiting for the bell to return to class when suddenly a certain song came to our lips and we were enjoying the fresh air - singing happily - when trouble struck. "Why are you singing that song?" a teacher thundered at us as we wondered what our offence was. I still remember the lyrics of that song even today. But did we deserve some strokes of the cane for singing a song that we ignorantly had no clue whether it was politically correct or not?
Growing up in Segbwema was a combination of fear and excitement. I had friends with whom I played and it was always a good feeling to have corn meal served to pupils in school. Fond memories of Segbwema include going to look for guava fruits in Holy Ghost compound, searching for mangoes, especially after a heavy wind or storm, and searching for coins that may have dropped from revellers at disco shows on unpaved floors.
Amid the childhood excitement, there was also an atmosphere of fear - fear of Lassa fever, which is endemic in the area, and dad would repeatedly remind us never to touch a rat with bare hands, whether dead or alive, always cover food and drinks, amongst other precautionary measures.
Growing up when the
One name I found fascinating in Segbwema was how residents referred to smoked fish. The name "Hotaboleygbeguwea" (please forgive my poor Mende writing skills) literally means the stranger with the bent or crooked neck.
After a few years in Kailahun, our "nomadic" life continued and my family relocated to nearby Kenema. My life's journey, with some years spent in Bo, later took me to Makeni, the northern provincial capital as
Sankoh and his group of lunatics said they came to liberate the people. They demonstrated this by killing, looting and burning down their houses. It was indeed a double tragedy for the largely destitute people in
Life in Makeni was memorable. Like Segbwema, I had all eyes on particularly the politics. In a short space of time, I would easily know the local authorities, including the paramount chief, and would sometimes visit "Ataya" tea shops to get hold of the latest gossips and diverse views on topical issues.
In Makeni, I had a passion for three things. One? Exposing lies. Two? Exposing lies. Three? Exposing lies. Wait a minute! There is an aroma of appetizing food hanging in the air and someone has just walked up to me. It is lunchtime onboard
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