Yefon: The Red Necklace (30 page)

Who says nourishment? It turns out royalty had an entire different way of speech that made Uncle Lawrence’s vocabulary look like that of a kindergartener.

I waved at the teenage-looking Loh, who waved back smiling. She had dark gums, which showed when she smiled, and very white teeth. She looked to be about my age. I tried to address the reaping mistake.

“I understand and thank you for the pleasantries, but I think there has been an error. I am...”

“Yefon Labam, the soon to be wife of Prince Veyeh,” Shamwun cut in rudely, but in a very polite matter. This woman just never stopped speaking.

I wanted to say, “Get out, I have work in the morning and cannot miss it,” but I only said, “Thanks. Goodnight.”

Shamwun talked with Loh for a minute or two and then she left.

I couldn’t believe the room. It was beautiful. The bamboo bed was piled high with soft feather pillows and a warm blanket. There were no ants here, and the smell of fresh hibiscus was everywhere. While I was still taking it all in, Loh brought in a brand new herpan filled with water and roses.

Very confused, I asked her, “What exactly is that?”

“Water for your tired feet, your highness. Just soak your feet in here.”

Before I could protest, the warm water caressed my soles. It felt so good. I let out a nice slow moan.

“Thank you, Loh.”

She looked back at me, obviously pleased that she had put a smile on my face. I wanted to dismiss her, so she could return to her other duties. I wanted to confide in her, but I couldn’t.

“What’s the prince like?” I suddenly asked her.

A glow appeared on her face. I could tell she felt a strong affection for him.

“He is a walking fantasy, your highness.”

I laughed, “That’s a bit too much, don’t you think?”

“No, I do not lie. He has long magical locks that have never been cut since the day he arrived on earth. It is washed only with myrrh, and they say that the future of the Nso people lies in his hair.”

It was so histrionic when she spoke. Magic hair! I was already intrigued and would certainly be in the lookout for the hair.

After I dismissed Loh, I thought about home. For the first time in my life, I missed home. At least at home, I was free. I wondered if Ma was looking for me or was she happy that I was finally getting married. I fondled my
sha
η
g
pensively. Why didn’t it speak? I wish I knew enough to run earlier. Now I was stuck here! Not Sola! Not anyone else, but me! Why me? These thoughts haunted me until I fell into a deep forceful sleep.

That night, I dreamt about the city. This was not a strange dream, other than the fact that this time, I was in it. I was wearing a beautiful flowing African dress. My hair was long and curly and my lips were shiny like the women from the book. I walked down an extraordinarily beautiful, clean street. A group of black girls passed by, carrying a stack of books. Some wore glasses, others in uniforms. A guy was riding a bicycle. I looked at his face, it was
him
. I smiled at him, and tried to say something, but he rode away smiling.

I woke up in the best bed I had ever slept in and pondered on this strange new twist of fate in my life. I was a princess!

-20-

THE SCHOOL

I was not a natural early riser, but after many years, I would subliminally hear the loud crackle of my neighbor’s
kiyuu
in my ears. What sounded to everyone else like
cuckurokoo
at dawn, sounded to me like
tic-toc-the-city-is-waiting, tic-toc- tac waiting for you
, and I would wake up just like that! Then the sound of church bells would fill the air, waking the rest of the Nso people up. Miracle? Perhaps, but to me, it was motivation to move to the city and follow my inner calling.

Unlike other mornings, this particular one was very different, and I didn’t need a magician to let me know. The Palace had no old
kiyuu
disturbing the peace and I had a bittersweet moment at experiencing such peace because even though the bed was nice, and the
kiyuus
polite, I did not belong there. Neither was I there with my consent.

How can such a beautiful palace do something as ugly as holding a person against their will? I knew everyone would probably be sleeping so I grabbed the chance to try and go home. I sat up and stretched loudly to see if anyone would come in, but no one did. I jumped out of bed, and quickly threw a sheet over my head, and then, I headed for the door of the chambers.

A few palace guards were standing at the gate when I arrived, so I quickly joined a group of workers walking outside the palace, my eyes glued to the ground as I made my exit.

Without looking back, I walked until I reached the kola nut trees by our compound. I stopped and rested for a while. I looked back towards the palace then continued towards home.

A group of girls were walking to the farm. They carried
nwa
s on their heads filled with farm tools. Looking from the ground up, one could observe an assorted variety of cracked heels walking barefooted over the road.

On the other side, one could see a clear demarcation in the lives of the villagers. A group of boys were heading to school, dressed in clean, crisp school uniforms. I observed them carefully as I had for the past several years. But I had never wanted to be them as much as I did now. For as long as they lived, nobody was ever going to put a bracelet of cowries on their wrists and force
them to marry anyone. They had a choice to do what their hearts desired.

The two groups bypassed one another and Kadoh spotted me. “Yefon! What are you doing here?” she asked casually.

“Shh!” I pulled her to the side. “No one is supposed to see me.” I responded, looking about suspiciously.

“So what’s the palace like? I mean, inside? Does Veyeh really have magical hair? Did you see him?”

I laughed. It was the first time Kadoh was the one asking questions.

“I haven’t seen him yet. Let me go home and see my mother, and I’ll catch up with you at the farm and give you all the details, okay?”

Kadoh, smiled. “I need juicy details,” she said before leaving.

“Okay!” My eyes were still on the boys, and when they were a reasonable distance away, I began walking behind them. It had really been my intention when I left the palace that morning to go to my mother’s place and to the parish to inform them about what was going on, but a new urge to follow the boys took hold of me once I saw them. I don’t know why, but my red
sha
η
g
was burning on my chest and I followed the boys blindly until I got there.

I understood why, when I finally arrived at the school that my father was once a shareholder of. I had never been there, and none of the girls had either. The excitement within my heart was uncontainable. My heart pumped loudly as I approached the old dirty school with brown buildings and an old tire bell and stick at the side of the buildings.

Hiding behind the trees, I peered around. I couldn’t hear any voices, so I crept behind one of the windows and looked inside. It was a small classroom, with about thirty students, all boys with rice-stranded and in some cases, wooly hair. Some words that I wish I could read were scribbled on the blackboard, and I attempted to pronounce the words, but I couldn’t go past the first letter.

The teacher was conducting a class and the children recited something that sounded like a song. I moved my head and watched as the children squealed heartily.

“Two times one is two

Two times two is four

Two times three is six

Two times four is eight

Two times five is ten

Two times six is twelve”

I was enjoying the song, and even started mouthing “two times” at the beginning of each line until my lingering eyes spotted some lice eggs rooted in the hair of the child seated closest to the window where I was. I squinted to see better and the white round things became more obvious, sending a giant shiver down my body and I looked away in disgust.

Deeper voices from another classroom caught my attention, and so I crawled to the other window and climbed the wall. These students were older, and they sat on wooden benches listening to a short instructor with very thick glasses. He had a goiter on his neck, and his voice came out like a bleat of a sheep. My eyes travelled across the old floors and dirty walls.

“I will drop out of school if women start going to school here,” one boy angrily remarked, sharing a laugh with a few others. The instructor laughed too.

“Those are problems for your generation. In my time, such a concept did not dare to exist.”

Another boy said something in a low muffled voice and the teacher cleared his throat before answering that the Basel missionaries would most likely be stupid enough to make such a mistake in the future.

“CPC Bali will never admit girls. What are you talking about?” another joked, and the class erupted into laughter.

Is this what they learn in this school? I wanted to learn about Senghor and the city and this man was bleating about ignorance? My heart raced. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here, I thought. It was a bad idea, and I tried to leave but my
sha
η
g
burned on my chest, so I decided to listen in a bit more.

“Their emotions are so strong that it blinds their judgment,” one boy said, and I wished I could send a knife at him to slit his ignorant throat. Can a man go into labor and push out a child? What did they know about emotions?

“Their job is to raise the children,” another argued. His skin was dark like a starless night. “I can’t even imagine wiping poopoo from anyone’s buttocks.”

They all laughed hard again. Again, I thought to myself, of course they couldn’t imagine it. They were too ignorant to learn better! I wanted to jump in there and teach them about
Ngonnso
, but my better judgment prevailed.

I thought about leaving again. I had begun to think this whole school idea was a disappointing embarrassment. Ma was right. This was for men. I should go see my family, I reasoned with myself, but then the teacher wrote something on the board with a sharp sound that caused me to close my ears. I couldn’t read it.
That
was my problem.

“What does this mean?” he asked, adjusting his glasses. “The ripple effect.”

The boys talked amongst themselves and then unanimously answered, “We don’t know, sir,” in a draggy chorus voice.

What was that, I wondered, almost poking my neck through the wooden window. A student asked permission to use the bathroom. I couldn’t see his face clearly because I had been focused on the lesson.

The teacher continued, “When one woman gets educated, do you know what will happen?” The boys nodded their heads eagerly.

With a bitter scowl on his face, the teacher continued, “Women gossip a lot. That’s one of their strengths that men don’t have. Through their gossip, they will influence the other women. Next thing you know, the village will change. Women will start dressing like prostitutes, and speaking rudely to their husbands. That is the ripple effect of a woman learning.”

I was flabbergasted. How dare he? This was outrageous! This is the reason why men never outgrew these ridiculous laws! They were indoctrinated everywhere, even in the white man’s school. I was very disappointed and I eventually dropped down and went back to the palace.

I frankly don’t remember how I made it past those gates, but I can tell you that, over the next few weeks, I bypassed the
school area a few more times, lingering at the outskirts. My
sha
η
g
would glow, but I ignored it.

One day, I decided to look at the school again. Looking left and right, I dashed behind some nearby plantain trees when the coast was clear. After a short while, when I was sure that no one was coming, I crawled from behind them and climbed up a dirty wall. Only this time, the students, and even the teacher, were different. The tutor was a white man, and the boys were older looking and very proper. These ones didn’t talk about women and how incapable they were. They actually studied.

Even though I was under a close eye at the palace, I found a way to make it to the school whenever I could. Whether it meant pretending that I couldn’t survive without five whole hours of undisturbed siestas in the afternoons, or that I needed some alone time to mourn for my late father, I always found a reason to be left alone. I came up with all types of excuses to walk by the school every other day, and over time, I learnt that it was a one-year Teacher’s Training Center, and the boys were being trained as Grade C teachers, clerks, secretaries, messengers, court judges, and catechists.

One time, I sat below the window listening to a lesson about the United Nations sponsored referendum that was drafted in the British Mandate. The teacher said that the United Nations was this big international group of countries that acted like police to the rest of the countries to ensure peace. He explained that the land of Bamenda, including us, the Nso people, decided to join the Eastern part of Cameroon.

“What is a mandate,” one boy asked, and I was happy he did because Kadoh would ask me when I was telling her the story and I wouldn’t have known what the answer was.

“A mandate is an official order to do something, like a mandate by
Fon Nto’
to release a prisoner.”

A united hum went around the class, which signified that they had understood. Being inquisitive, I peered around to observe how I could climb up further to see more.

When the teacher left the class, I overheard the often deep voices of the pupils discuss their plans for when they completed school. A number planned on applying for teaching jobs at assisted schools. They could earn higher salaries there since the
British Government supported those schools with grants to help pay the salaries of their teachers.

“I don’t mind an unassisted school,” one boy said. “I just want to make enough money so I can marry Leinuy.” My heart melted at the sweetness of the young man’s plea.

Hanging on to the edge of the window for dear life, I tried to hear some more when I was poked from behind. I jumped in alarm and fell on the grass. Oh please, I prayed, don’t let it be a palace guard! Please, please. I looked up, shading my eyes with my hand to see better since the sun was directly shining into my eyes. Leaning lazily against the wall was the
boy
, with a quirky smile on his face. My heart skipped a beat and I didn’t know if I wanted to scream at him for interrupting me, or to smile at him so I did neither.