Water On The Mountain. Run Run (I)

Atsar Terver

The stay at Ushongo was initially intended to be a brief stop-over, to enable my newly wedded wife visit my former School, Government Secondary School Ushongo, located just at the foot of one of the many hills that dot the serene landscape along the Ogoja-Katsina- Ala Road and maybe go up briefly on the climber-friendly mountains.

Actually a visit to Ushongo was not my idea. It was my wife that suddenly got fascinated by the hilly village on our wedding night. The reason, I later got to know, was because of a beautiful plaque we received as a wedding gift from the GSS Ushongo Old Students Association. And the town being along our scheduled path to Obudu, there was no harm in a brief stopover.

At Ushongo, we drove into the school compound but the place was deserted and overgrown with grass as the students were away on holidays. Our hopes to meet with the school Principal and also give token gifts to some students were dashed.

But the stopover was not brief in the end. We ended up spending the whole afternoon on the hill because; our attempt to proceed was halted by our car which refused to start. What actually happened was that, my sister Abigail had left with the security console of the car. We had dropped her off at the motor park in Gboko two hours earlier to arrange how to move some of our wedding gifts to Port Harcourt. My wife had handed her a pen attached to the console to write down some useful telephone numbers. The console ended up in her handbag as she dropped off while we zoomed off` and away.

It was going to take a minimum of two hours for her to bring the gadget to us, before we could proceed. Her phone rang repeatedly but she did not pick. A call to my elder brother revealed that she had left her phone in the house and this complicated the whole episode a lot more. I was pissed off but noticing that my wife was distressed at the grim reality of our being ‘stranded’ by the hillside, I quickly switched my face into one of the most artificial  smile I have ever made. It was the start of our honeymoon and I was not going to allow anything spoil our joy.’ Honey, it’s Ok. This is just an opportunity for us to spend a good time up there. Abigail will be here in 2 hours and then we can continue our journey ok?’ I reassured her, drawing her closer to myself, I kissed her forehead.

‘Look up there’ I said as I pointed to the top of the mighty conical rock overlooking the thick savannah vegetation. ‘We will soon be up there’. We both gazed at the hilltop with awe as the rocks hung by the sides as if they could fall off any minute. ‘Are the mountains at Obudu higher than these?’ She asked me with such an appealing confidence in my knowledge of the answer that I could not afford not to know. ‘Oh sure’. I answered almost immediately, but inside me I was like women (!); what makes her think I should know anyway?

‘I used to climb this mountain with my friend’ .I told her. ‘He was my classmate. His name was Adogo. His house lies across the hill. Lost contact with him though’. Sometimes I did it alone’.

‘That was quite brave for a school kid’ she remarked.

 A man should naturally be proud if his wife says he is brave. So I was. My shoulders rose some inches higher while my head bulged a little. That was supposed to be a compliment but I did not miss the subtle challenge in her tone. It was hidden in the corner of her eye yet I could sense it for real. I had to do it again to prove that I am still as brave now as then. I understood also that the uphill climb included the prospect of having to carry her on my back should she find it impossible to continue either on the way up or down. The realization of this put a check on my rising ego, so my shoulders fell back to their normal position but my head grew even bigger as I contemplated the enormity of the task ahead of me.

So we headed to the top of the hill. But between us and the mountain stood a thick patch of impassable vegetation made wet by the early morning dew. This was going to be our first challenge as a couple after our wedding; and for me as a man, it was going to be the first test of my capability to take her to the ‘mountain top’ where our dreams belonged. The cost of failure was too simply high.

We had to look for a pathway. But of course it was my duty to create a way. Women, I have come to realize, are great followers when the road ahead is rough, but when all is clear, they prefer to take the lead. So after you have cleared the way, you must not forget to give the credit to the woman because, come to think of it; was it not for her sake that I was going that far-taking the risk of a fall; the risk of stumbling over a venomous reptile, wetting myself in the early morning dew on the grass? And doing all these with a compulsory smile? Women are quite a motivation for so many things that we men (read we-men) do.

As we made our way through a nearby yam farm with a camp chair in my right hand and my wife on the left, I hummed the lyrics of one of my favorite blues written by Will Jennings and Jack Nitzsche.

‘The road is long

And there are mountains in our way

But we climb a step every day.

Love lifts us up where we belong

Where the eagles cry on a mountain high

Love lifts us up where we belong

Far from the worlds we know

Up where the clear winds blow’

I turned the iron legs of the camp-chair into a tool to beat down the thick vegetation and create a path. This done, I jumped unto one of the rocks in our way, turned back and gave her my hand. She grabbed it eagerly, I pulled her up and the upward climb began.

Halfway to the top, my wife backed off. ‘Honey, I can’t continue’

‘You can’t do this to me baby. It’s for better ‘n for worst you know; we must get to the top together’. I teased her. She laughed.

‘My legs are aching, I want to sit down’ she insisted.

‘OK here you go’. I located a reasonably flat area under a shade provided by a nearby tree and spread out the camp chair for her to sit down while I continued the upward climb alone. But I soon realized the folly in leaving her at the foot of the mountain. I had promised the Pastor and the congregation a few days before that I would not leave her till death did us part. So I returned to join her under the tree where the sensation of time seemed to take a momentary leave from our faculties. By the time it returned it was almost 3pm.

Women could be very difficult to understand sometimes. I soon realized that my wife never really wanted to reach the top of that mountain. She only wanted to sit down at the foot of it with me by her side, away from every human intruder (or competitor), close to nature, and savor the gentle breeze, the chirping birds, chat away our fears and rehearse our dreams for a happy future together. The mountaintop was not meant to be conquered, but to left a mystery to fertilize her dreams.

We finally set out from the Ushongo town towards Vandeikya enroute Obudu. A journey of barely one-hour. And arrived Obudu town at about 4.30Pm. Coming in from Tsar town, which is a boarder settlement on the Benue side, just about 5 kilometres away from the College of Education Obudu.

We had planned to do the honeymoon in Ghana but I changed my mind in protest when Obama went to Ghana to scold Nigeria. I reasoned that going to Ghana would mean admitting that my country has nothing to offer us as a young couple-which is not true. It took me days to convince my spouse that Obudu would offer us what we might not get in Ghana. And Obudu turned out to be a delight far above our expectations.

In the second part of this article, I will tell the story of our experience in the land of splendor, of mountains and water, the land of serenity and peace; I will tell the story of Utangaland, the Becheve and the two big bulls Donald and Joshua.

Culled from memoirs of my honeymoon (Atsar Terver, 2009 unpublished)

Robot  # 1 | 24.10.2009 04:02

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