Letter from Nigeria; 2021, 1921

Hello, my maternal grandfather. 

 

You are my eternal [insert Fon language word for grandfather], and I honor you in my life and my intentions. 

I have not seen you for five years. Beside the difficulty of seeing you in person, it is hard to take the time to write you in this fashion that you prefer, because in these times of modernity I usually send out messages in a much faster and sure fire method, not depending on a dozen feeble mail delivery people who want to pillage your wares half the time. And, no one knows if the letter will ever arrive at where you want it. I tried to make copies of some of my old letters in case they never made it to you the first or second times.

Grandpa! Life is good and hard in Nigeria. We have had good rain and the crops are growing, but unlike back in Benin, the streets and houses outnumber the fields and gardens, and we spend much less time working in the dirt and soil and summoning water for the crops and the chickens or goats, but more time and effort securing our bicycles and cars, some who have the buses and lorries. Also, there are the people with computers and cell phones, even the ones they call "Smart"; life is more technologically advanced here than there. However, mother reminded me that more phones and Internet cafes have arrived into the town and even some of the surrounding countryside.

Times are changing. I am trying to be a part of if. I use my ciclo and trailer to pass fruits, meats, and wares between the farmers and vendors, and I make some good money. Sometimes I hoist an elcctric refrigerated cooler on my trailer.  I can move frozen foods, and ice creams and goods, which people love, and sometimes just the smaller coolers and containers do the trick to preserve the freshness of the products to sell to my clients and customers. I have only been robbed three times, and that is good for 17 months, compared to the other transport salesmen.

I have gotten to know the region pretty well in the 17 months that I have been doing this business. It can be dangerous with all the motor traffic, the other pedal bikes, and the people and the animals. Robbers do not want to hurt me like the natural catastrophes that abound here. I particularly have problems with the buffalo that some herdsmen let do their own thing. Also, some dogs can be a pestilence to my welfare. But I manage and I stay on my toes, and try to avoid traveling at night. That is when more accidents and deaths occur. I try to be somewhere safe every night, if not at home with the family then usually a local church or public depot.

Muddy or dusty roads can be very treacherous, too, and sometimes the erosion creates larger than believable rivulets and mini-canyons that force me to go over and around, even trespass into other peoples' property. But they understand; sometime it is fortuitous for me to circumvent the trails because I can do spontaneous business with them. Like, the other day I was heading south 10 kilometers and going to make a tidy profit in the southern town of the prefect where I have made some good runs before, and the creek about halfway down had overwhelmed the road. Buses and cars and most bikes could not pass. Some hikers and walkers made their way down side gullies. I needed to make this work, going around to the east or west would take me overnight in order to arrive at my destination. And whats more, I had separate sales to the north to make the next day. I had to move on! I went through a farmer's field well off the road, and he had a large watcher approach me, telling me not to step on their yams and pineapples. I assured the man that I would not, and that I could facilitate a special sale for chocolate fudgicles, which were frozen in my main cooler. 

The watcher, a giant man named Kiyuba Oro, replied that he did not know what fudgicles were or looked like, so I pulled one out and had to show him how to eat it, and then he took another from me and was so happy he bought five. I made seven naira, which is not the normal profit, but well worth the sell and the access to pass on through. It is what was taught to me in the capital city Abeokuta at a business seminar as a "win-win". I still made a small profit, and I made it to my destination with time to spare.

I learned from this that workers in the hot country, the bush where there is little refrigeration or electricity or running water, appreciate my frozen and cold items, especially. And moreso, in the hotter parts of the day they are willing to pay! I am a young man but I know how to acquire the products, I have my contacts and networks that trust me; soon I will hire the cousin of my aunt (not directly related to me) Ibikwe to go around selling ice cream from coolers, especially in the mid day, and I will benefit from his sales and after him perhaps I will expand. Within enough time I may gain enough money to buy a moto or a small furgon or car. I will do the faster sales and more of them, and continue to expand the business. I can see myself being a fleet master and having my own office where I run things and I count the monies, or hire someone else to do so. The future is bright here in Nigeria.

I believe that within 5-10 years I will be able to return to beloved Benin, to our ranch area outside Ketou, and live comfortably with the hard work of our hearts and minds, and "put our shoulders to the wheel". Be married and have children. I have enjoyed going to the church here, mostly on Sundays when I avoid working, as we believe it is the Lord's day, but I also get involved with some weekly activities and programs.

God is Good, as the Muslim brothers say, and God is loving, as we Christians say. I believe God is blessing all of us.

Please pass my highest affections and warm salutations to your wife, Dear Tata, and all the children and grandchildren.

Your faithful grandson,

 

 Onneeyu

 

April 2021.

 

[The great-grandfather wrote a similar letter from the same place back in 1921, to his grandfather.] 

History continues and repeats.