4. Why Ijapa Is Bald

A long time ago, the world was very different. Humans and animals had much in common, lived side by side, spoke the same language and generally behaved the same way. Some animals, like the Ijapa (tortoise) possessed remarkable physical and mental capabilities.

In Teregun, a town in a faraway land there was a tortoise, Ijapa, who lived with his wife, Yannibo, and their three children. Ijapa did not do any work but relied on the goodwill of others (eg friends and neighbours) or on tricking them, to obtain food for himself and his family. Yannibo, on the other hand, was always looking for any work she could find, to help their situation, but without the support they got from her parents as well, life would have been much more difficult for Ijapa’s family.

There was a time when Ijapa had a small farm, and Yannibo was selling the produces at a nearby market, but Ijapa being predominantly lazy – not known to want to do any work unless he could not help it – had gone back to his lazy ways over time. He had neglected his farm, working less and less, and then stopped altogether, and his farm had gone to ruins. Yannibo could not understand why.

“What kind of being have I married? Yannibo would ask herself again and again.

Yannibo might not have known the kind of being Ijapa was when she first married him, but she did now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What worried Yannibo most about Ijapa was his greed. Ijapa was very greedy, much to Yannibo’s concern, especially when it came to his favourite foods. Ijapa could not hide his penchant for food such as ẹbẹ with palm oil, akara (bean-based food) and roasted groundnuts.

“I hope his greed would not be the end of him one day” Yannibo would say to herself again and again.

Indeed, it had almost been the end of him when he ate the ‘‘Ọbẹ asejẹ’ that a babalawo had cooked for her when she was trying to get pregnant. There were other dimensions to Ijapa’s greed, and Yannibo was well aware of this, and this was why she was always so worried about Ijapa bringing further disgrace upon himself and on his family now that he had one. Ijapa would pay frequent visits to people when he knew what and when they were going to eat, hinting that he wanted to partake of their meals – pretending that he was just passing by, and decided to drop in on them. In some cases, if the lady of the house was not there yet to serve the food Ijapa would, find some excuse or the other to hang around until she arrived.

Ijapa knew that the traditional greeting “Wa jẹun” or “ Ẹ wa jẹun” (“Come and eat”) at mealtimes were mere formality but took it literally. Some of the people who caught on to Ijapa were forced to change the greeting to “O ba mi re” or “Ẹba mi re”! (literally “You meet me well”) which did not have the same connotation as “Wa jẹun” or “Ẹ wa jẹun”, even though the attention of the visitor would still be drawn to the meal being consumed.

Yannibo’s parents were well aware of their daughter’s predicament and had tried again and again to get Ijapa to go back to work – to go back to his farming.

“Look at us, Ijapa. It’s not that easy running a farm, but we get by. You’ve done it before, and you can still do it. You can even use part of our farm, now that you’ve lost yours”, Yannibo’s father said to him one day.

“But you live far away!”

“Why don’t you try your hands at something else then?” his father-in-law continued.

“Like living up to my reputation – especially as a lazy and greedy so and so, who can’t take his eyes off good food. It’s a job on its own, you know. It requires mastery and I seem to do it well!” Ijapa answered, wanting to shock his father-in-law and his mother-in-law deliberately.

“But it doesn’t feed you and your family” Yannibo’s mother pointed out.

“Aren’t you worried that Yannibo may leave with the children?” she continued, when Ijapa did not answer straight away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ijapa still did not answer, but just nodded. His mother-in-law had hit a raw nerve. The last thing Ijapa wanted was for Yannibo to leave him. He and Yannibo cared for each other. They had gone through a lot together in the past before the children they were trying to have came. Even though Ijapa did not seem to care about the way he behaved, it was all a façade. Deep down he did not like disgracing himself as he often did and was always petrified about doing so. Yet it was as if he could not help himself; he had no control over his actions.

In the end Yannibo’s parents resigned themselves to the way Ijapa was. They decided to help his family as best as they could for the sake of their daughter and their grandchildren. They invited them to eat often. Ijapa and Yannibo took up the offer whenever it was convenient to do so but left the children at home. Yannibo’s parents lived at the outskirts of Teregun, at a town called Ẹyin-Igbẹti, and Ijapa and Yannibo thought that going there and back on foot would be too much for their children who were still very young. However, Yannibo’s mother always made sure that she gave some packed lunch to her daughter to take home for the children.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ijapa took advantage of his in-law’s generosity. On each occasion when he and Yannibo were invited to eat, Ijapa always looked forward to the meal, especially to the delicious ẹbẹ (yam pottage) that Yannibo’s mother excelled in – the ẹbẹ with succulent chunks of meat sizzling in the palm-oil based tomato, onion and pepper sauce, and its irresistible aroma…

One day Yannibo’s parents said to Ijapa and Yannibo:

“Why don’t you come and eat lunch with us next Sunday. We’re having some guests over, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves.”

Ijapa could not wait for the day to arrive. The thought of the food he was going to eat haunted him, especially the ẹbẹ, and his mouth watered incessantly.

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late” Ijapa kept on and on telling Yannibo before they set off for his in-law’s when the day came, even though he knew that they still had plenty of time. He was impatient to eat his fill of the ẹbẹ which he knew would be just too delicious.

“You females take too long over your dressing” he added when he saw the expression on Yannibo’s face.

Yannibo was indeed taken by surprise because she knew that they still had plenty of time.

“I’m not taking too long, but you know very well that there are going to be guests at my parents, and I can’t just wear anything. I have to dress carefully. I’m not like you.”

It was true. Ijapa did not care about his appearance, as long as he put on his cap, a funny looking cap, his favourite, shaped like a saucepan – deep enough to hide something!

“You take too long to dress – all you females” Ijapa repeated. “Why do women do so? I only need to put on my agbada (form of clothing for men) and my cap. Tying your gele (head gear for women) alone takes ages” Ijapa replied, shrugging.

Yannibo knew that Ijapa was deliberating missing the point.

“We still have plenty of time, and you know very well that I’m not wearing gele, and you’re not wearing agbada. It’s not a party we’re going to!”

The couple eventually set out on foot for Ẹyin-Igbẹti, where Yannibo’s parents lived. It was a nice, warm day, but by the time they got to their destination it had got very hot, and they were exhausted. Immediately they entered the house the delicious aroma of the meal filled their nostrils and wetted their appetite; it was welcoming and tempting. The dining table was already laid, and it was inevitable that everyone would be eating soon. At least this is what Ijapa thought as he smelt the food, especially the ẹbẹ , and his mouth started to water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ijapa could not concentrate on anything else, and hardly heard his mother-in-law introducing him and Yannibo to their guests whom he gathered were all present, but he did not spot his father-in-law among them, and was afraid that he might be out of the house.

“Please sit down everybody and have something to drink…Feel at home” Yannibo’s mother was saying.

“It’s not a drink I want, it’s some ẹbẹ ”, Ijapa was thinking, as his mother-in-law played the hostess to her guests, her daughter and her son-in-law.

“Is it too hot in here? Shall I open the windows? Are you all right there or do you want to sit somewhere else?”

Ijapa’s mother-in-law continued to play the hostess offering drinks, making sure everyone was comfortable. It was hot inside. Whilst conversation was flowing about the guests’ work and social activities, and especially about Ijapa’s and Yannibo’s children, Ijapa was too obsessed with eating some of the ẹbẹ to want to talk incessantly about anything to any of them. He knew that Yannibo was very proud of their children, whom she did not give birth to for many years after their marriage and was always happy to talk about them – about their likes and dislikes, their achievements and so on. She was even happier when others showed genuine interest in wanting to know about the children, as was the case here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone seemed happy except Ijapa who was eager to eat some ẹbẹ .

“All this talking is preventing Yannibo’s mother from serving the meal” he was thinking. But Ijapa knew that it was not the talking alone that was the cause, but the fact that his father-in-law had not so far put in an appearance.

“If I know my mother-in-law very well, she won’t think it proper to start serving and eating the food until her husband is here…What a nuisance!”

“Yannibo’s father…?” Ijapa asked his mother-in-law, as others continued to talk to each other.

“Ah! He’s in good health, thank you!”

His father-in-law’s health was the last thing on Ijapa’s mind, but of course he could not very well say so to Yannibo’s mother. As the latter was not forthcoming with her husband’s whereabouts, Ijapa found himself saying:

“May he continue to be!”

“Amen!”

Ijapa kept quiet, but as the aroma of the ẹbẹ continued to fill his nostrils and his stomach rumbled, and his mouth watered, he found himself gearing the conversation in the direction that suited his present purpose:

“He’s not at home then?”

“Who?” Yannibo’s mother had obviously lost the trend of the conversation for she looked at Ijapa, puzzled.

“Yannibo’s father”

“Oh! I see! Yannibo’s father! He’s just gone out quickly and will be back soon.”

“Does he usually go out around this time? He can’t be happy to be called out when he’s about to eat. I’m sure he doesn’t like his food cold”.

“He knows that the food will always be kept warm on the stove”

“It must be a matter of extreme importance that drags a man out of his home on a hot day like this”.

“You’re absolutely right, Ijapa. What could be more important than being a good neighbour, especially when good neighbours have become good friends?”

“Absolutely nothing. Naturally, as good friends they’d be mindful of each other’s mealtimes. So, I’m sure he’ll be back soon to enjoy the delicious lunch that awaits him, and in the company of such delightful guests!”

“Indeed!”

“I know I’ll be if I were in his position.”

“Quite so”.

“Well, at least you’ve done your part as a wife in cooking the meal, even if the eating can’t be done yet”.

“Indeed!”

“The eating can’t be done until your husband is here – perhaps as the head of the family, or to say “The Grace” – unless in special circumstances…

“You’re quite right!”

“Mind you in special circumstances…

“Quite so. Quite so.

“I understand that in some homes it doesn’t matter who says “The Grace”.

“It’s true.”

“He knows, of course, that his guests are already here?”

“Oh yes! It was immediately they arrived that he was called away…”

“Do they live far away like us?”

“Who…?” Yannibo asked.

“Your guests.”

“Yes. They live in Makele – about 3 to 5 kilometres from here.

“Ha! They must have walked here… like us then?”

“They usually do when we invite them. They say it’s good exercise.”

“That’s true, but in this heat! I wonder how they feel after such a long walk. I’m sure it’s not only exhaustion they feel! Yet look at them chatting away!”

“I’m sure they’re all right. We’ve been chatting away as well, and aren’t we feeling all right? “

“Ah! Well…Yes” Ijapa said and gave up the charade. He realized that the conversation – the hinting was getting him nowhere. Then he tried something else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What a pity Yannibo’s father is not here. There’s something I wanted to discuss with him and talking to him before lunch is better than afterwards when we may all be lulled to sleep after a heavy and delicious meal and are too tired to talk.

Yannibo’s mother knew Ijapa very well, but whether she suspected or not that the conversation Ijapa had been having with her were hints to get her to serve the food, she did not let on.

“Really! Don’t worry. Yannibo’s father will soon be back… Actually, let me see what’s keeping him away this long…let me check next door…I’d better send someone to look for him… I can’t leave my guests. You just relax, Ijapa.”

As the mother-in-law was going to the backyard, in search of someone to send to find her husband and tell him that Ijapa wanted to talk to him before lunch, Ijapa continued to be haunted by the aroma of the ẹbẹ . He started to think of ways of getting his hands on some of it, for it had become a real obsession.

“Just a little of it! I have to leave the room and find my way to the kitchen without being seen. But how can I do this? What am I going to tell the others? That I want to go to the toilet? No! That’d be too easily discovered if someone else decides to go soon after me. That it’s a bit hot in here, and I want to take a stroll in the garden to cool off? Nobody will believe that on such a hot day as this! But then there are some lovely trees with wide-spreading branches outside! Surely, they must have shades…and I may want to check something in the garden – some plants, fruits that may be in bloom – that Yannibo and I have been looking for. That’s possible, but what plants, what fruits, and what’s so urgent about them?” Ijapa stopped for a while to think further.

“I may have asked someone to look me up here or have a friend who lives down the road that I’ve promised to look up anytime I come here…!”

“Too long-winded” he said to himself. “Oh! It doesn’t matter! I’m sure I’ll come up with something. I just have to eat some of this ẹbẹ ” Ijapa could not control himself anymore.

“It’s a bit hot in here. I’ll go and cool off in the garden for a while – stroll around” Ijapa announced to no one in particular.

“But it’s still very hot outside, Ijapa” Yannibo pointed out.

“Not under the shades of your parents’ lovely palm-trees. Imagine how lovely and cool it will be there! “

“Right now, there are no shades” Yannibo’s mother pointed out.

Ijapa nodded as if taking on board what his mother-in-law had just said. He kept quiet for a while.

“Is there someone at the window outside? I thought I heard some movements and saw a shadow. Actually, it could be a friend of mine. I told him I was coming here, and he said he might look me up because he too was going to be in this neighbourhood today. I’d better check. He got up to make for the door, expecting the others to continue with their conversations, and not pay attention to him, but Yannibo’s mother drew the curtains at that point, and looked right and left out of the window.

“There’s nobody there. Let me go and check all the same” she said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ijapa had no choice but to sit down. After some time, he said:

“You know my friend who lives just down the road, Yannibo. The last time I saw him I promised to look him up whenever I’m around here. This might be a good time to do so – just before eating – because afterwards I’d be too full to do anything else other than go home straight”.

“But, Ijapa…”

“Don’t worry, Yannibo. Don’t forget that I’ve got my cap. It’ll protect me from the rays of sunlight, and I won’t get sunstroke if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ijapa said, waving the cap at her.

“All right” Yannibo conceded to him. “I can’t stop you. I can only advise you.

Ijapa left the sitting-room with no other thought (except eating some of this ẹbẹ ) and went into the garden. He made sure that there was no one in sight and aimed immediately for the back of the garden where there was a door leading to the kitchen. Once inside the kitchen he looked around and was not surprised to see an array of different dishes – pots and pots of them – that Yannibo’s mother had cooked for her guests, including ẹbẹ . Their incredible aroma filled his nostrils, and his mouth started to water as his stomach rumbled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I just have to eat some ẹbẹ now! I can’t wait for Yannibo’s father” was the only thought in Ijapa’s mind. He had no control over himself anymore.

“It’s not my fault. I can’t be seen to act improperly in front of guests by asking Yannibo’s mother to serve me before we’re all called to the table!” he convinced himself.

Ijapa opened the pots one by one, and much to his delight found some ẹbẹ staring at him in the third one – with huge chunks of meat sizzling in a rich tomato, onion and pepper sauce. The texture of the ẹbẹ was exactly how he liked it – thick but succulent and not dripping oil.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ijapa almost fainted as the delicious and tempting aroma of the ẹbẹ filled his nostrils. He should have remembered how tempted he had been over the ‘Ọbẹ asejẹ’ that a babalawo had cooked for Yannibo, a stew to help her to get pregnant, years before – how temptation had led to his downfall. He should have remembered the way the fish (in chunks and broken pieces), in particular, had stared at him when he lifted the lid of the pot of stew to just have a look, and how it had culminated in his finishing the ọbẹ completely. Instead he was bent on eating some of this ẹbẹ .

“How am I going to help myself to some of this delicious ẹbẹ ? Where am I going to put it?” he asked himself for the first time. After all I can’t very well just dip my hands inside the pot, can I? Apart from burning my hand, it’s not decent to do so” he chuckled to himself.

“Okay. I can use one of these serving spoons to remove the ẹbẹ from the pot” he continued, spotting them. “They have been used already so nobody will know, but I can’t very well use a plate to put the ẹbẹ , or a spoon or fork to eat it, for that matter. All these are tell-tale signs!”

Ijapa was now at a loss as to what to do. “Act quickly” he told himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He spotted some cleanly washed, left-over mọimọi leaves (mọimọi – bean-based food), grabbed one or two of them and put some spoonfuls of the steaming hot ẹbẹ in them.

“I’ve no choice but to use my hand to eat this ẹbẹ ” he said to himself, but just as he was about to do so, he heard someone’s footsteps and voices. Somebody – most likely Yannibo’s mother – was making for the kitchen.

“Someone is coming! Oh no! What shall I do?”

Ijapa panicked. How disgraceful! He should not have helped himself to some of the ẹbẹ without asking his mother-in-law first. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in the act with the guests here, and he could not run away either! So, he quickly did the first thing that came into his head. He removed his cap, wrapped the ẹbẹ in the moimoi leaves quickly, put it inside the cap and covered his head with it – a mistake he was to regret for the rest of his life. He left the kitchen quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ẹbẹ was hidden from sight owing to the shape of the cap and the texture of the ẹbẹ , although it had not been properly wrapped in Ijapa’s haste. Nobody would have guessed that anything was hidden in the cap, but steam was soon dripping down Ijapa’s face.

“Ah! You’re back, Ijapa! Yannibo’s mother said when she caught sight of him. You must have come in through the back door. Didn’t we warn you that it was too hot for a stroll in the garden, or to drop in on your friend?”

“Yes, you were right. I felt so hot and dizzy and had to come back. I didn’t get to see my friend. In fact, I’ve a headache, and I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Oh dear! Then you’d better come back to the sitting-room where the others are. By the way I’ve found my husband. He’s coming…He knows you’re here and will be with us very shortly. Food will be served…” Yannibo’s mother suddenly broke off when she saw the state Ijapa was in; he was reeling slightly and sweat was pouring down his face.

“What on earth is the matter, Ijapa?” Yannibo’s mother asked, alarmed.

Ijapa could not utter a single word. He was in a bad way. The steaming ẹbẹ was doing havoc to his head and his body; it was burning his head – his skull – and he was sweating and shaking all over. His head was pounding mercilessly as if about to burst, and he could not see clearly nor move an inch further.

“Please excuse me, but I have to go back home at once…” he struggled to say. I get this malady from time to time that makes me break up in sweat. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s sunstroke or malaria. This was why Yannibo was insisting that I should not go into the garden…I should have listened to her!”

“Come into the sitting-room and relax. When you eat something, you’ll feel better.”

“I have to leave immediately…I feel awful – have never felt like this before…I’m going to faint.” Ijapa mumbled. He still could not speak properly as the ẹbẹ continued to burn his skull; his head pounded and his body shook terribly. He wanted to make his escape without anyone else knowing including Yannibo. He knew that once Yannibo’s attention was drawn to what was going on, she would fuss over him, and in doing so, his cap might fall off.

“No, no! You can’t go back home by yourself without Yannibo” his mother-in-law said.

Ijapa’s condition worsened. He seemed to be sweating more and more profusely, and Yannibo’s mother saw steam dripping down his face – this time surprisingly oily. His face was changing colour, his eyes were red, and he could not stop his teeth from chattering; he looked as if he was about to faint. He tried to make for the door, but he was wobbly on his feet, and would have collapsed if Yannibo’s mother had not held on to him.

“Ijapa has taken ill! Ijapa is ill!”

As Yannibo’s mother alerted the others she heard her husband arriving.

“Ẹku ile o! (greeting to anyone at home upon arrival) How are you all doing? Hope you’re all enjoying yourselves?”

By now everyone had left the sitting-room, and they all rushed to meet Yannibo’s father.

“Ijapa has taken ill!”

From then on everything was done to help Ijapa – different suggestions made. Everyone felt sorry for him, as he tried to hold back his tears.

“Pour water on his face at once!” Yannibo’s father commanded.

“Open more windows and all the doors!” the mother said. This is why I was surprised when he insisted on going out for a stroll on a day like this.”

“Put on all the fans in the house!” someone else said

“Remove his outer clothing!”

“Give him some water to drink. He must be thirsty.”

“Put some food on a plate for Ijapa. Maybe he’s hungry as well as thirsty!”

Ijapa tried to recover quickly from his malaise so as not to give the game away. Luckily for him the steam from the ẹbẹ had gone down a little in temperature.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right as soon as I get away. I just can’t wait… I just have to go…”

“We’ve never seen Ijapa like this before. He must be coming down with something – malaria perhaps?” Yannibo’s mother was saying to the guests, deeply concerned for her son-in-law.

“I’ll be all right. You all go back and enjoy your meal. You’re all worrying too much about me. This has happened before. All I need is to just get away. I don’t want to spoil the enjoyment for you. Go and eat and enjoy yourselves.” Ijapa struggled to say.

<em>“Go and eat and enjoy your meal! This has happened before!”</em> Yannibo was thinking.

“Most extraordinary for Ijapa to say so!” Yannibo had never known Ijapa to miss a meal, and she had certainly never seen him like this before! Not suspecting anything untoward, an idea suddenly came to her that had not occurred to anyone else thus far.

“Please take off his cap and wipe his forehead. Let him get some air on his head! Wait! I’ll do it…”

Yannibo rushed forward to wipe Ijapa’s forehead, but Ijapa pushed her quickly out of the way before she got to his cap.

“No! You know I always have to leave my cap on when I get this malady…The malady turns my head cold…”

Yannibo was surprised to hear about any malady that left Ijapa’s head cold and looked at him enquiringly. Ijapa seemed to look back at her imploringly, and that was when she suspected that something else was going on with her husband – other than what could be seen.

As Ijapa was protesting and was about to leave, Yannibo’s father got hold of his garment to hold him back, and there was a bit of a struggle.

“You’re clearly unwell, and shouldn’t go anywhere – at least not on your own, so why are you being stubborn?”

Ijapa tripped and fell and his cap fell off. The sight of burnt hair mixed with ẹbẹ and torn mọimọi leaves that met them all was horrible. It was incredible! When Yannibo’s father removed the debris from his head, Ijapa’s head was burnt and all his hair had fallen off!

Nobody would have believed what they were seeing had they not been there. No one had witnessed anything like this before!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the initial shock, there were further reactions from those who were witness to this incredible occurrence. All sorts of remarks were made as one or two of them laughed right out, unable to contain themselves, while one or two others were sympathetic. Others, like Yannibo and her parents, were deeply embarrassed and ashamed of Ijapa.

“What a sight!”

“How incredibly stupid!”

“How disgusting! ẹbẹ mixed with hair and torn mọimọi leaves!”

“Can put you off eating ẹbẹ ever again!”

“Can put you off eating it now…!”

“Poor Ijapa! Imagine looking like this! I wouldn’t want to

be in his shoes!”

“He should have said he was hungry instead of embarrassing himself in this way. All the lies and pretences just because of some ẹbẹ . What a price to pay!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“It’s not as if he had never eaten ẹbẹ before!”

“Once he was caught in the act he shouldn’t have made matters worse for himself by putting the cap with the ẹbẹ on his head!”

“He shouldn’t have put the ẹbẹ in the cap in the first place!”

“Even if he hadn’t been caught the ẹbẹ would have smelt on him when he returned to the sitting-room anyway. What a fool!”

Ijapa felt so embarrassed and ashamed to hear what was being said about him, and he tried to wriggle out of the situation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I went to get a glass of water in the kitchen because I was hot and was beginning to have a headache…You were right, Yannibo. I shouldn’t have gone out in the first place…In stretching out my hand to get the glass from the cupboard… I knocked over the cover of one of the pots of food that were on the sideboard below the cupboard, and it was the pot of ẹbẹ .” Everyone just glared at Ijapa and did not say anything. They all knew he was lying of course.

“Unfortunately, as I was closing the cover my cap fell inside the pot… I couldn’t very well use my hand to remove it…, the ẹbẹ being steaming hot” Ijapa continued with his lies. “I spotted some left-over, clean mọimọi leaves and used one or two of them instead… By now the headache had become worse, and I felt faint – that darned heat outside…! I just wanted to get away from the kitchen and join the others in the sitting-room… I put my cap on without realizing that some ẹbẹ and torn moimoi leaves had got stuck at the bottom …, the ẹbẹ being quite thick in texture and my cap very deep. It was when I started feeling the burning sensation on my skull that I realized what must have happened…, and just at that moment I came across Yannibo’s mother. I didn’t know what I was doing or saying thereafter…”

“Enough!” Yannibo’s mother ordered, cutting Ijapa off. “We’ve heard all the lies we can take. You’ve no leg to stand on! Yannibo, take your husband home, and nurse his wounds. I’ll give you some food for the children.”

All the people present were shaking their heads in disbelief. Yannibo’s parents were deeply embarrassed and could not look at their guests in the face. They made up their minds there and then not to invite Ijapa to their house again – only their daughter and their grandchildren. They should not have been too surprised by Ijapa’s behaviour knowing the kind of son-in-law they had. Indeed no one there should have been surprised unless they had not heard about Ijapa before. Ijapa was shameless and incorrigible.

Yannibo’s parents felt sorry for their daughter and their grandchildren and were embarrassed for them because they knew that the guests would talk about the incident once lunch was over, and that Ijapa would be a laughing stock at their town and village, and at Teregun. Other towns might even get to know about it. Ijapa would never be able to live this one down. But then had there not been other similar incidents? Unfortunately, even if Ijapa’s shameful escapades did not seem to bother him, they were a real source of concern for Yannibo.

“Let the rest of us go and eat before the food gets cold and leave the couple to their own devices” Yannibo’s mother said, trying to make light of the situation.

“Good luck to Yannibo! Such a nice being!” one of the guests said under his breath.

“She certainly deserves better!” another one replied, who happened to have heard.

They all proceeded into the dinning-room to go and eat, still talking animatedly about the whole episode.

“I think I’ve always known that Ijapa’s greed will be the end of him” Yannibo, who had been reacting to Ijapa’s behaviour with conflicting emotions, was saying to her parents, as she left their house with her husband, to go and nurse his wounds.

“His greed has got him into this. He’s never satisfied with what he has. Here he is trying to live down his hollowed stomach. He’s been referred to often as ‘that creature with a cracked shell’. Now he has no hair on his head, and his neck has shrivelled like a lizard’s. What next?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yannibo was so distressed by the whole incident – by her life with Ijapa – that she contemplated leaving with the children there and then, to go and live with her parents. She did not know what to expect next. She had had enough.

Walking back home with him that day she braced herself to the reaction of others to Ijapa’s condition. She knew that their reaction that day would be nothing compared with thereafter. Ijapa had kept his cap on after it had been cleaned for him by Yannibo’s father, but his discomfort showed on his face as they came across people on the way home – in Ẹyin-Igbẹti and a village called Idaya Village, and in Teregun.

“What’s wrong this time, Ijapa?”

“What’s with you?” they were asking when they saw him, and some of them were pointing and laughing at him. It was obvious that Ijapa was in a bad way.

By the following day Ijapa’s mishap had become the talk of the town. The guests, just as Yannibo’s parents had suspected could not keep the news to themselves. Ijapa found everyone looking at him, some pointing and laughing at him whenever he walked down the street – making all sorts of remarks:

“He’s done it again!”

“Poor Yannibo. What a burden! What a disgrace!”

“How could she stay with Ijapa after this? I know what I’ll do if I were her…”

“Which is worse? His hollowed stomach or his bald head and shrivelled neck.?”

“Not to talk of his cracked shell, and how he got it in the first place!”

“The creature is shameless and incorrigible!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once again Ijapa had made a laughing stock of himself because of his greed. Yannibo tried to ignore what was being said around them. She nursed Ijapa’s wounds steadfastly, but she alone knew what she had made up her mind to do about her situation with Ijapa. The wounds healed but the hair on Ijapa’s head never grew back. He was completely bald. His neck, soft like that of a lizard, had shrivelled and shrunk upon contact with the steam of the ẹbẹ that had poured down on it.

This is why Ijapa is bald.