Finding a Life Path on Medium
Saturday, 22nd of May 2021
The driver is engaging some of the passengers about the low turn-out for the Oyo state local council elections but I’m not paying attention because I’m turning the thoughts of me skipping farm next week Monday or Tuesday or both. Then, his next statement traps my attention:
Obìnrin kan fi àwọn ọmọ ẹ̀ sílẹ̀ fún bíi five hours lọ campaign. Ọkọ ẹ̀ lu tí gbogbo ojú ẹ̀ wú. A woman was out to campaign and left her children at home for about five hours and the husband beat her that face was swollen.
He continues his narration to include that the man gave the wife #2000 this morning before she went out to campaign which she got #1000 for, and that this increased the degree which the husband was boiling, hence the beating.
Demonstrating with his right hand, he says, “Tó bá j’émi ni ṣá, mi ò lè na obìnrin ṣùgbọ́n mà á fọ́ etí ẹ̀ tó ma yọ.” roughly translated: If i was the one, I can’t beat a woman, but I’ll slap her so hard her eardrums will pop. All the other passengers supported him with one man saying, “Why would a wife leave her kids for so long?” Now, I am partly boiling, partly irritated, and partly keen on enlightening them how all of this is nothing short of Domestic Violence. But I doubt they’ll be interested in that fact that almost one in four women in Nigeria reported having ever experienced intimate partner violence (a kind of domestic violence.)
Yes, I know it’s wrong to have left the children for so long in this election weather but regardless of who is at fault, blowing up the face of your supposedly lovely wife like a balloon is just wrong. EOD.
The story reminded me of a discussion I followed on a WhatsApp TV that morning. It was about women who after their husbands bring them to developed countries like the US, reports their husbands to the police over ‘small arguments’, the man gets thrown out and he has to start from scratch.
The TV’s stance on the issue, which is also mine, is that these men want to keep a ‘lord and slave’ relationship (maybe not that extreme in some case) where they can treat their wives as they please without a repercussion as it usually is in Nigeria.
Friday, 21st of May 2021
I’m an Agriculturist in embryo in my fourth year at the University of Ibadan. This is the year of our Practical Year Training Programme where we complain that we are still made to use only farm tools in the 21st century. Before the programme began in February, I decided to document my experience as a diary and publish it anonymously in my local press.
I have been consistent till our break, which lapsed last Monday when I also took a break. This Friday, after months, I concluded I’ll also be publishing my experiences on Medium. However, this will not be limited to my PYTP or end with the programme but accommodate important areas of my life including writing, journalism, poetry, graphic design, gender equality, public speaking, agriculture, religion…
It’s going to be a journey of what I know and think about these fields as well as finding myself and clearing a life path. Talking about clearing, the first portion I was assigned to weed—a cassava farm—was graded 5/10 this Friday by the farm coordinator, Mr Olowu, a short dark brown man. He said that’s what you get from not doing a task well and getting graded late.
Because our next portion where we are to plant maize is yet to be cleared by a tractor, he asked that we resume on Monday, 24th of May, with buckets to fetch from the stream down the Business School and bring them to a maize farm to fight Armyworms. I’ve not been to the farm nor the stream but my mates have said they are far from another. The water is needed to mix the pesticide.
He asked us to arrive early in the morning as the Armyworms (larva stage) starts moving inside the maize plant once the sun is up. I don’t know which armyworm species we’ll be fighting but I assume it’s the fall armyworm, Spodoptera frugiperda, as it seems to be the popular one. You can read how it was first discovered in Nigeria by The International Institute of Tropical Agriculture, Ibadan, IITA. On Tuesday, 25th of May, we are to resume at the Faculty for Horticultural assignments.
Thursday, 20th of May 2021
Mr Olowu told my group not to report at the farm-- a blessing for one of us who had the time to enjoy her birthday.
Monday, 17th of May 2021
I got to the farm late this day. All we did was to get a portion of the Cassava farm to weed. Wednesday was the announced deadline and we complained that the allotted time was too short but come Wednesday morning, everyone was done, except two guys according to myself.
Tuesday, 18th of May, 2021
This is the day most of us weed and those who started on Monday evening finished this morning. I did mine and got home to nurse blisters and body pains like others who didn’t hire a labourer. I should have hired. I wanted to, but the work seemed easy when I started so I just continued till I finished it. I was yet to file my cutlass
After weeding, I trekked to our sister faculty, Renewable Natural Resources, to get the filing done. Unfortunately, there was no power so I left with the #200 that I had on me. I walked to the school mosque which is about 300 metres away and how waved down keke-maruwa, (Tricycle) to take me to the school main gate
On getting to the gate, I reached for the #200 in the pockets of my green farm wear, and it wasn’t there. I dipped my fingers, again and again, almost making a hole in the pockets but nothing was there. I wished I would just disappear. I ended up pleading with the other passenger, a man, to pay for me. If you know me, you’ll know I never do this. I hate begging or being at the mercy of another.
I rushed out of the university, heading for the First Bank ATM gallery in front of the university, though my feet were heavy. I reached inside my blue knapsack bag for my wallet. The bag was the package given to all students in my faculty for the 2018/19 session. I opened my wallet to take my Debit card and I see a #50 note. I wondered why I didn’t open my wallet earlier. I guess I just have to learn that sometimes I’ll need people.
Wednesday, 19th of May 2021
Mr Olowu and some other non-teaching staff members were at the farm to grade us. Actually, Mr Olowu was there to grade while the others followed obediently. He didn’t grade me. He said my weeding is poor and marked me present (we are to report at the farm daily unless told otherwise)
Sunday, 23rd of May 2021
It's time to publish.
