The Weight of War
As taxes increased as a result of the war, Olarenwaju Folorunsho had to put more effort into his farming activities. Even though he had twelve sons from three wives, the Nigerian economy was still very hard on him.
“Babatunde! Timileyin! Opeyemi! Why are you still sleeping? Can’t you see the time? Oya, get up, get up! Straight to the farm. Your mates are already working. I have twelve sons and not one is in the farm at this time,” Folorunsho said as he woke them up.
Folorunsho was not a lazy man, but he was struggling financially due to the heavy tax policies. Taxes had to be paid in cash, so he had to harvest large amounts of crops. some to sell for cash, some for agricultural tax, which was sometimes collected as goods instead of money. On top of that, the head tax for his large family was overwhelming. He needed to double his effort.
“You’re still sleeping keh? Babatunde, wake your brothers up joor. You think sleep will put food on the table?” he said as he prepared to leave for the farm.
“Timi, Ope, oya get up!” Babatunde said, kicking them lightly. “Get up joor, can’t you hear that Daddy has been waking us up ni?”
“Ahnn! Is that why you’re kicking me?” Opeyemi cried as he got up. “Daddy, see Brother Tunde, he was kicking me!”
The others thought Opeyemi was too dramatic and that he used every opportunity to show himself. At least, that was what they believed—probably because their father favoured him more than the rest.
“Babatunde, I have told you several times to stop treating this boy like this. You know he is fragile. Opeyemi, come here, don’t mind your brother… ah, that reminds me... I got you an adire outfit from Iya Alaro’s daughter. When you come back from the farm, you’ll come and try it on.”
“Every time, every time! Must you always make it obvious that you prefer Ope? Can’t you treat them equally for once? Are they not all your children?” Arike, Babatunde’s mother and the first wife, said as she brought pap (ogi) for the children.
“Iya Tunde, what are you saying?” he replied, avoiding her question. “Give my portion of ogi to the children. You know I don’t like eating before going to the farm.”
“You will still do what is in your mind,” she said. “I only mention it because you are making the children dislike each other.” She then turned to the children. “Oya, go and bring spoons and drink your ogi. I will wake your other siblings, they will join you later on the farm.”
As Babatunde, Timileyin, and Opeyemi walked with their father to the farm, they talked as things came to their minds.
“Ehn… I forgot to tell you people something. I had a dream,” Opeyemi said.
“Again?” Timileyin replied. “Another dream? What happened this time, did you rescue a lion again?”
The last time, Opeyemi had dreamed he rescued a brown goat that went missing from Brother Temitope’s farm. Temitope was the first child of Folorunsho whose mom is also Tunde's mom
“No, it’s not that one. This time it’s different. Yesterday, we planted corn. In my dream, my own corn grew taller than everyone else’s, and all your own corn was bowing down to mine.”
“Alala (dreamer),” Babatunde scoffed. “So you’re expecting that dream to happen too abi? It’s always dreams upon dreams. Who knows if you’re just making it up?”
“He’s not making it up,” Timileyin interrupted. “We all know his dreams come true later.”
“Shut up!” Babatunde snapped, running toward Timileyin, who ran off as well.
As they got far enough, Babatunde muttered, “One more of those useless dreams and it won’t be funny again.”
They spent the rest of the day on the farm after the other siblings joined them. Their mothers and only sister stayed at home doing chores and preparing for the evening trip to the market.
