THE BOY WHO SAW TOMORROW

CHAPTER ONE

Funsho came back from the farm that day very tired. He had with him a rabbit; the traps he set the previous day for game, caught it. As he approached his house, he hummed his usual song to announce his arrival. Durojaiye his two-years-old son sat outside playing while his mother prepared supper at the back of the house.
Gbemisola was in a hurry to prepare supper. She hated to keep her husband waiting when he came back from the farm hungry, so she prayed that he would not arrive while the meal was still being prepared. As she continued to prepare the meal, she reminisced.
She adored her husband so much, not mainly for the fact that he was her husband, but also because he had stood firmly by her for eight years while they eagerly expected the birth of their first child. He had refused entreaties from his family members to marry a second wife years back when she was unable to give birth, after so many miscarriages. He had quarreled with them over the issue and because of his obstinacy; he was ostracized from his family, which was why he now lived in a different hamlet secluded from his family. That singular gesture had endeared him to her so much that come what may she resolved to stick by him until her dying days.
Before the birth of Durojaiye her son, during her pregnancy’s first trimester, she fervidly prayed, asking God to allow her child live this time. During most of that period, she virtually lived in a church until his delivery. After her son’s birth, her husband tried to reunite with his family to no avail. For this reason, she swore to give him and her son all the love she could.
Durojaiye’s case was another matter that continued to baffle her and she had yet to discuss the issue with his father because she was still observing him. He seemed to have clairvoyant powers or so she thought. The first incident occurred about three months earlier, weeks before his third birthday.
She had gone to gather firewood with him, in the shrubs in the vicinity by their home. She would bend down and pick wherever she saw some. Sometimes she had to break small dried up tree with her hands. She came to a particular spot, and as she was about to use her hand to pry apart a path in order to make way for them to pass through, Durojaiye suddenly screamed, “Mama, mama”.
Abruptly she stopped, turned to him, wondering why he shouted. As she moved away from where she stood to go and pacify him, a snake suddenly crawled away from where she had initially stood. The rustling sound it made as it glided away on the dried up leaves on the ground attracted her attention. She instantly turned her face backwards to where the sound emanated and saw it glide away. Immediately, she threw the firewood she had been garnering on the ground, carried her son and ran off. She later mused over the episode and wondered how her son had known danger lurked around for her.
The second time was a few weeks back; they were on their way to the next village to sell her wares on the village’s market day. Normally they usually went in groups, intermittently. That day she was with a particular group of people. A locally constructed pedestrian bridge had existed for years and was in a state of badly needed repairs. It shook vigorously as people walked over it, but no one gave a thought to the fact that it might someday collapse. That morning the group she was with had almost approached the bridge when her son said he wanted to excrete. She was annoyed at him because she had urged him to excrete that morning before coming along but he refused. She knew that allowing him to do that then would mean she would be left to walk the remaining distance in solitary, with just him as companion, because the other women would not want to wait for her for fear of missing the best bargains.
Grudgingly she stopped, put down her load by the way side, took him nearby, removed his knickers and waited for him to finish up. Minutes later, he had yet to defecate. She annoyingly jerked him up for playing pranks on her. Hurriedly, she put his knickers back on him, put her load back on her head and briskly moved on to see if she could catch up with the others.
She did, all right, but most of them had sustained injuries because the old bridge collapsed under their weight as they passed over it. Thankfully, no one died because the bridge was not very high; it crossed over a small stream. From that day onward, she started to view her son in a different light.
The sound of her son shouting “daddy, daddy”, jolted her off her reverie.
“Oh! Funsho is back oh,” she said unhappily.
As Durojaiye had the sound of his father’s voice, he stood up and ran towards the direction the voice came from, shouting, “daddy, daddy,” repeatedly.
Funsho, on hearing the sound of his son’s voice, amplified his voice, knowing that soon he would sight his son springing towards him as usual to welcome him home. Funsho thought regularly about his son’s future, he knew he was a peasant farmer with no support from his family, but he strived to take proper care of his immediate family. For that, he did everything humanly possible to augment income from his farm. The farm he had acquired on lease from the community he now resided. He tapped palm-wine for sale, a trade he learnt recently from a friend. He also caught wild animals to eat and most times sell, but the one he had with him was for home consumption. His thought went back to his son who was suffering for no fault of his. His father was a prosperous cocoa farmer who had so many wives and had lost count of the number of his children. He was even older than some of his father’s wives. When the issue of taking another wife cropped up, he bluntly refused. It caused a serious misunderstanding between him and his father. His father wasted no time in disinheriting him and threatened to divorce his mother if she supported him. With no option, his mother backed down, including his siblings who as well had imbibed polygamy. By Gods Grace, he had been able to sustain his wife and son.
His son’s appearance changed his thoughts. He put down his farm tools and game, spread out his arms, receives him in a warm embrace and lifts him up.
“Where is mummy?” Funsho asked.
“She is inside, cooking.” Durojaiye, answered his father.
Funsho then put him down his son, picked up his tools and handed the rabbit to his son who happily carried it the remaining distance to the house.
As they got in, Funsho shouted, “Gbemi, I am home.”
Gbemi answered from the backyard where she was cooking. “I will be with you shortly dear; I am trying to finish preparing your meal.”
“It’s all right. Collect the meat from Duro and prepare it so we can have a sumptuous meal this evening,” he said as he undressed and prepared to go and have his bath.
Duro was the short form of his son’s name Durojaiye, which in Yoruba language means, ‘stay and enjoy the world’.
“Yes dear,” she answered and then called her son the name she preferred calling him, “Temidayo, bring the meat here.”
Durojaiye took the bush meat to his mother in the kitchen at the backyard.
“Thank you Temidayo,” she said as Durojaiye dropped the meat beside her and sat down close to her.
Funsho wrapped a towel around his waist and came out to the courtyard to meet his wife.
“How was your day dear?” he asked.
“Welcome, my husband. Today was not bad. I made good business. I am sorry your meal is not yet ready; I did not come back on time. How was the farm today?” she asked.
“Today was fine. I supplied the required kegs of palm-wine requested by the palm-wine seller. Two of my traps caught something. I sold the hare on my way and decided to bring the rabbit home for consumption instead of selling it. The crops are growing fine; it is just that the rains have made weeding cumbersome and almost a daily affair. Meanwhile, let me go and take my bath. As regards the meal not been ready yet, I am ready to wait for as long as I can as long as the meal eventually gets into my mouth, my dearest one,” he said.
He moved away towards the corner of the courtyard where a makeshift, open-air bathroom was constructed with old roofing zinc sheets. It had no door, so, whoever took a bath had to use a cloth or any improvisation as a screen when taking a bath.
By the time her husband came out of the bathroom, and wore his dress, his meal was ready, except for the bush meat that she just put on fire which would serve as dessert for the family later in the evening.
That night while Funsho and his wife were in the room, he discussed with his wife the plan he had to enroll their son at a lesson run by a young school leaver in the village. He told her that he had already discussed with the lady, so that she would be relieved of Durojaiye in the daytime to face her trading business squarely. She was elated at such news, her only regrets was that she would miss the company she enjoyed with him at the market square. She wanted to pick that opportunity to tell her husband what she thought about her son, but she did not want to get him worried any further after all the good news of the day, so she let it pass, thanked him profusely for been a loving husband and father and they went to bed.
Durojaiye started attending lessons. His teacher attested to the fact that he was brainy and was quick to understand. His mother and father faced their respective businesses. Things went normal for them except for the fact that she wished for another child, but none came her way. Nothing bizarre happened regarding her insinuations about her son’s abilities, so she soon forgot about discussing it with her husband.
Durojaiye turned five and his father enrolled him in the community primary school. He excelled exceedingly well in academics. Everyone loved him. He had many friends and became a cynosure at school. About a year later, his mother became pregnant. She was very elated about the pregnancy. One day she took him along to the next town to purchase maternity items she needed that was not readily available in the community she lived.
They got to the motor park and boarded a bus. The buses took turns to be filled up. When theirs was almost filled, Durojaiye asked her for some money to buy something he saw at one of the shops. He said he was a bit hungry. She gave him the money and warned him to be fast about it because the bus was almost full.
“Yes mama,” he replied and ran off. Immediately he left, the bus became full. They waited a little while for Durojaiye to come back, but he did not. The bus conductor angrily asked her to get down and take the next bus while someone else took her place. She was furious because she knew it would take almost thirty minutes for the next bus to be filled. She went towards the direction of the food vendors in search of him. She saw him a few minutes later sitting down on a bench eating what he bought, instead of buying and bringing it back to where she sat in the bus waiting for him. She flew into rage and gave him a good scolding. He calmly apologized to her and followed her back to the bus section were they boarded another bus.
About twenty minutes later, they moved. The journey was a forty-five kilometers drive to the next town. The driver had covered about thirty kilometers when they saw a sight ahead. Many cars parked on both sides of the road. Her thoughts were that it was a police checkpoint, but when they got closer, they saw that a truck loaded with timber had hit a bus. On closer inspection, she saw that the bus was the one she and her son were supposed to have boarded.
On the ground by the accident scene were bodies strewn all over. Some seemed dead to her, while others were injured. Passers by parked their vehicles to aid the victims. As the bus they were in, slowly drove by the scene, she recognized the lifeless body of the conductor who had rebuked her earlier on. She muffled a scream and turned to look at her son Durojaiye who stared back at her innocently as if he did not understand that he just saved their lives. The bus driver parked the bus some distance away. He told his passengers that the bus involved in the accident was the one that loaded before his. Some passengers came down to witness, but she could not. She sat down and shed tears, praying for the repose of the soul of the dead ones. She was flabbergasted but said no words, reserving them for when she got home to explain what happened to her husband and her suspicion about their son.
She hurried up with her purchase and went back home. That evening when her husband arrived from the farm she explained everything to him right from when she first suspected her son had some kind of powers to detect danger, but she said what she could not tell was if it was powers to prevent danger from happening to her in particular or not. Her husband listened to her intently, after which he asked, “Don’t you think these incidents are mere coincidences?”
“Ah! My husband, if they are coincidences, are they not too much? It is three times now.”
“Okay, I suggest we watch him carefully,” Funsho suggested.
“The amazing thing is that afterwards he seemed not to understand what he prevented,” Gbemisola said.
They discussed further before changing the topic to her pregnancy. About how the baby fared and other matters before finally retiring for the night. They both kept a watchful eye over Durojaiye who showed no further signs of supernatural powers. Her husband then told her that she had been merely superstitious, but deep within her she believed she was right about her son.
Gbemisola successfully delivered her child and this time, a baby girl. Her joy knew no bounds and so was her husband’s.
Durojaiye was a doting brother to his little sister He always looked forward to closing time at school so he could run back home to help his mother carry the baby while she performed other household chores. With her trading suspended, they had to manage with the income from her husband’s farm until she was able to continue. A few months later, she resumed her trading and things began to improve again.
Durojaiye finished his primary school at age eleven. His little sister Ayomide, almost six years younger than he, was in primary one. He normally took her to and from school. He also helped his father in his farm most times, as he waited for the next academic year in other to enroll in the community secondary school.
Ayomide adored her brother and went everywhere with him. They were closely bonded. On a fateful Saturday, Durojaiye went to the farm with Ayomide to help his father. When it was close to evening, his father asked him to return home on time because of Ayomide who might be hungry. He concurred with his father and left the farm for home. Normally they had to go through lonely, winding paths to get home. Since he was a grown boy, he had no fear of such paths just as most boys his age who normally went hunting alone in the forest.
On this particular day as he approached a certain spot, he suddenly felt awkward, looked at his younger sister beside him and on impulse, he grabbed her. He put his hands on her mouth to muffle a scream and ran into a close by dense thicket to hide. Ayomide stunned at Durojaiye’s action tried to pry his hands off her mouth but he resisted. A few minutes later, some men walked pass. After making sure that he could not hear their voices again, he removed his hands from his sister’s mouth and they came out of the thicket they had been hiding. His sister stared at him not understanding what to make of what just transpired. When they came out to the bush path, he carried his sister on his back and ran the remaining distance to the safety of the village.
He was breathing profusely when they arrived at home. Immediately his mother saw them, she noticed the way he was respiring and asked him if he had been playing on the way, to which he replied, “No, mama.”
Personally, he could not explain his actions; all he knew was that he acted on impulse. Ayomide later informed her mother what Durojaiye did to her on the way home. She called him and reprimanded him. Not knowing why he took the action, he calmly received her rebuke.
That night she thought over Durojaiye’s behaviour towards his sister, deduced that he must have been playing pranks with her and meant no harm. She knew Durojaiye loved his sister, so she decided not to bring it to the notice of her husband.
Very early the next morning, the village bell sounded. The town crier announced to everyone’s attention that two little children were missing. She and her husband heard the news and they immediately went to check on their children, and met them sleeping on their mat peacefully. They went back to their room and that was when Gbemisola informed her husband what Ayomide said Durojaiye did to her the previous day on their way back from the farm.
“My husband,” she called. “I feel Durojaiye has mystical powers. Remember the previous incidents. Now look at this again. He probably might have done that to protect his sister from danger.”
“You are right my dear,” Funsho said and kept quiet musing.
“And do you know what I think, my husband. I think he probably is not aware of it himself, because when I was scolding him yesterday he just kept quiet, not able to explain why he acted that way.”
“I suggest we ask him what really happened yesterday when he wakes up.”
“Yes, my husband,” Gbemisola said as they both lay down in deep thought.
That morning they did not go out on time, they both waited for Durojaiye and Ayomide to take their bath and breakfast before calling on Durojaiye to explain the previous day’s incident.
“Duro my son,” his father called his attention. “Ayomide said you forcibly dragged her into the bush and covered her mouth while you hid for no reason. Why did you behave like that?”
“Papa, I don’t know oh,” Durojaiye answered innocently, then began to explain. “As we were coming back from the farm, I suddenly felt cold. On impulse, I carried Ayomide and we hid. I covered her mouth so that she would not scream. A few minutes later, some men passed, and after waiting for some minutes, and I did not hear their voices, we came out and ran home.”
“Hmm! You mean you just hid. And not that anyone was pursuing you.”
“Yes papa.”
“You are sure you were not playing pranks with your sister.”
“No papa,” he answered.
“All right my son. What you did yesterday might have probably saved your sister or probably both of you. We cannot say for certain, but some children were reported missing this morning.”
“Is that so papa? Maybe those men are responsible,” Durojaiye said.
“We do not know for sure. Did you see their faces?”
“No papa, I did not.”
“All right, let me go out and join the other men so we can find out exactly what happened. Meanwhile, Duro you must not say a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?”
“Yes, papa.”
“And that goes for you too Gbemisola or else we might have to contend with something bigger than missing children in this community.”
“Yes my husband,” Gbemisola replied as she stood up to go and do the house chores before preparing for Sunday worship.
Later, it was assumed that unknown men might have kidnapped the children on their way back from the farm. News spread out to the surrounding villages to be cautious of strange men in their neighborhood who kidnapped children for either rituals or trafficking to the big cities to work as house helps. Funsho cautioned his son to be very careful and to keep a watchful eye over his sister.
The kidnapped children were never found. Between husband and wife, they concluded that their son had some form of power to detect danger that he did not know about yet. Their million-dollar question was, to what extent could he foresee and to whom?.....

to be continued when i hit a 100 reads