18 Mar 2007 |
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The Ijaw Man Who Would Not Tell A Lie By WayoGuy I was in Yenagoa, the capital of
I arrived on a Friday for the wedding of a fisherman friend, Ben Khana, scheduled for that Saturday. All the guests were quartered at MoneyYabMan, a popular hotel near the 200 block of Leigha Avenue , Onopa, in Yenagoa.
My friend the bridegroom, Ben Khana, an indigene of one of the fishing communities of Ekeremor Local Government of Bayelsa State, was, at that time, residing in Yenagoa. I had known Ben for almost twenty years, ever since we both attended the same secondary school in eastern
Unfortunately for Ben, on that Friday night before his wedding, he got himself in a serious mess and needed a good lie to get out of the jam. He had come to the hotel to say a final goodbye to his old girlfriend that Friday evening. His bride and her entire family from the distant local government as well as Ben’s family were at Ben’s house in Yenogoa waiting for him. The wedding rehearsals and other final plans awaited his participation. But Ben did not make it back home that evening. He got drunk at the hotel, spent the night with his girlfriend there, and woke up Saturday morning terrified. He had missed all the wedding rehearsals. He panicked. We all panicked. But as we all tried to find appropriate excuses that he could use to explain away his disappearance when he got home, he vowed that he would not lie to his bride. We were all certain that the wedding would be cancelled if Ben told the truth. He assured us that he would tell the truth nonetheless. He told us to go ahead to his house and tell his family and guests that we had come for the wedding. He was going to the local market to purchase something and would meet us later at his house. We all got ready for the wedding and did as he requested. When we got to his house, his entire family as well as his wife’s family, and numerous guests, were sitting outside, looking angry and ready to come to blows. Where was Ben, they asked each other? Some, who had been there since the night before, threatened to go home. It was almost time to start going to church and Ben was nowhere to be found. Where was Ben? His bride was in a corner crying. We sat outside with them and feigned ignorance of the whereabouts of Ben. Thirty minutes later, there came Ben ridding towards us on the back of an okada motorcyclist. To say we were stunned at his appearance would be an understatement. Ben was carrying, on both shoulders, a load of fish all hooked up to each other by strings, hanging on his arm were fish hooks and dirty fishing nets. His clothes were dirty, wet, and he smelled like fresh fish. As he alighted from the okada, carrying his load of fish, all the angry family members, including his wife, rushed towards him in a cacophony of indecipherable voices. “Please, my wife, family and guests, forgive me,” said Ben very quickly, “I am sorry that I am late. Last night I went to the hotel MoneyYabMan to meet my old girlfriend. We both got drunk and spent the night together. I will not lie to you. I enjoyed every minute with her. This is the truth!” His bride, Bisi, laughing heartily, said: “Ben, my Ben, please stop joking. So you went fishing all night? I love you Ben. Why didn’t you tell me you were going fishing? We were worried. But I have told you many times to stop this nightly fishing. Please get ready quickly; the priest is waiting for us at the church …” Everybody clapped for Ben.
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