Tale of an African Woman

Chapter Fourty Eight

304 48 he men carried on with their drinking and debate. Some eavesdroppers picked up the most damning elements of their discussions and began to peddle them. They soon reached me as rumors which had been seriously distorted. The rumors held that a party of old drinkers led by Tela was touring the village and lecturing anyone who cared to listen on the dangers of educating women. I knew that even though Tela’s popularity had declined, he could still easily convince many people on some issues. The old interpreter was still said to be one of the wisest men in the village and when he spoke his words of wisdom, nobody had the courage to challenge them. The drinkers might just have been having a nice time, expressing the way they had been brought up to think. They did not, however, doubt that if their views ever got to my grandfather, he might think twice before ever sending me to the university. Nor could their conduct be judged to be totally devoid of some traces of jealousy. After all, I was not battling over the privilege of enrolling at the university with a deserving male member of the same household or even community for that matter. I came first in my entire school and was alone and all I was asking was to be given a chance. The men had no good reason to act in a way that would prevent my grandfather from sending me to the university. All the same, regardless of what the men thought, the issue had sparked off a huge controversy in the village. It was the first time the village was faced with such a situation. With different points of view and no unanimity of opinion, I still had two courts of last instance to rule on the matter. The first one was presided over by Christ through his priest, Fr Sean, and the second, by the ancestors through their gnukwabes. T 305 Still, the night following the meeting with my grandfather, I could not sleep. I kept rolling and tossing in my bed, my mind running wild. Many of my schoolmates living in Kimbo had parents who were very close to Irish missionaries. That exposure had made their parents more receptive to the idea of educating women. I knew many of my friends who were far less intelligent than I was but who would be heading to the university. How would they behave towards me when they returned and found me at home with a clutch of babies to take care of? I suspected that our friendship would never be the same once they returned to the village as university graduates, describing the sophistication of city life and wearing expensive clothes, shoes and perfumes. I became so frightened by the thought of being left behind that I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. When my grandmother rushed to my bedside, she found me sitting up and sweating profusely. “Go to sleep my dear and forget about this university business,” she said gently. I went back to sleep but my mind was made up about what to do. I decided to take the matter up to Fr. Sean. With him on my side, overnight, the balance could be tipped in my favor. I knew that in certain aspects of life the village would listen to the opinion of the priest, and education was one of them. After all, was it not through his initiative that the first schools were started in Yakiri? Is he not the one who campaigned hard that young men would become more useful as farmers after earning a degree in agriculture or veterinary science at the university? With Fr. Sean in mind, I could finally catch some sleep that night. Early the next morning, before the crack of dawn, I crawled gently out of my bed and slipped out of the house quietly, making sure I did not create any commotion which would stir my grandmother. It was still dark when I got to the main road which led to the village square and the church. My heart was pounding and I did not want to even entertain the thought that Fr Sean would not take my side in this matter. I began to sweat as I hurried on and almost fell to the ground when I stubbed my foot on a tree root which had [3.14.141.228] Project MUSE (2024-04-26 13...