There’s something about the rain.
In our home, whenever anybody wastes water, my mummy sends for her cane with which she’d beat the water waster and would say, “Don’t you know that in Kenya and in Auchi they don’t have water?”
Last Sunday as it rained non-stop, flooding everywhere, my mummy’s cane floated into view. I picked it up and gave it to her, wondering, “Who is she going to beat for all this wasted water? But she just smiled and put the cane away.
I wish it would rain heavily whenever I waste water.
I live on Lawani Street. As it rained last Sunday and flooded everywhere so much that all our gutters disappeared (good riddance!), I saw a friend from Buraimoh, the next street, wading through the water, and I hailed at him, “ You are in Lawanian waters; identify yourself or get blown out.” He simply brought out a white handkerchief and started waving it, with the downpour making limp the flail of it. My navy lowered her weapons…of pure water sachets. Yes, sachets, so as not to leave any trace of offence if we had attacked an ‘intruder’ unlawfully; rain water plus pure water equals ‘case dismissed!’
It was the 10th of July, but all I could hear was “May day! May day!” Mayhem had broken loose. Just as Hurricane Katrina had struck, and people were looting shops and all, last Sunday’s flood washed into homes (without warrants!) and carried away soup pots, fridges, livestock, books, babies, faeces, bags of cement, rice, garri, salt, hammers, axes, water wells, wallets, et cetera. And nobody did anything about it!
The waters were organized, though; similar items from different homes were grouped together and conveyed in a common flow to God-knows-where. That was the cause of the riot in my neighbourhood: someone who’d cooked egusi soup (with a lot of meat and fish) now had okra (“without”!) And someone whose pot had been empty now had good food spilling out of a pot now swinging on a platform attached to the roof where water is unlikely to rise up to.
A family that had just acquired a new apartment down the street, but had been too lazy to move, saw the flood as a haulage device; they just threw their belongings into the water, and guided the currents towards their new home.
The rain had started while I was away from home, and I had to wade through waste-high water to get to a bus-stop. I boarded a bus afterwards, and was about to pay the fare – but my wallet was gone. I was minded to get off the bus and search the rain but didn’t know which drop to start with – they all looked alike!