The Bata Dancer - Rotimi Ogunjobi

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must say I have ever seen anything like your troupe does, and that is why I am here.” Yomi replied.

      “Is that so?” Baba Lamidi seemed flattered.

      “Yes, after watching you, my heart told me there is a destiny in this for me. I want to know the language of the drums”. , Yomi persisted

      “Okay I will do as you wish; but how much are you willing to pay for this?” Baba Lamidi laughed. Yomi remembered that Ayankunle mentioned during his interview, that Baba ran a school. Not quite a formal school, but a rigorous and dedicated apprenticeship.

      “I am willing to pay the price” Yomi eagerly said, sure that whatever the amount was, could not be beyond his means, considering that this town was far from being a place which regularly accommodated the wealthy.

      “I shall think about it. I also want you to go away and also think about it” Baba told him. Yomi sat with them for a couple of hours more, enjoying the banter , sharing with them, the keg of palm wine which he had very thoughtfully bought on his way, as a gift to Baba Lamidi. He watched the game that was in progress and at which the younger man Ayankunle, was unhappy to be constantly losing.

      By next morning, and after returning to Ibadan, Yomi agreed with himself that travelling to Ijebu-Jesa every weekend was indeed an impractical and ridiculous thought.

      But now back again in Ijebu-Jesa and not about to leave for some time, the quest became again reawakened. He could once more clearly hear the voice of the Bata drums. Only he did not yet understand.

      On Monday morning, Yomi drove to Maven Private School, the school which employed him to teach English. The school was accommodated in three storey high buildings arranged around about a five thousand square yard quadrangle of lush green field. .The principal, Mrs Adele Obembe, a pleasant woman of about fifty was very pleased to see him.

      “I hope you don’t have to travel from Ibadan every morning”, she jested.

      “Not at all. I arrived on Friday and I am presently staying in a hotel”, Yomi laughed.

      “Good gracious! That must be very expensive “, Mrs Obembe was genuinely horrified.

      “I really don’t have an alternative yet. I asked an estate agent to find me a flat but he is yet to do that. He promised to call “, Yomi also regretted.

      The principal took Yomi around the school and introduced him to the rest of the staff. Yomi asked to take two days off to resolve his accommodation issue and Mrs Obembe was pleased to oblige.

      Falana had not called him on Sunday, nor this morning. Yomi phoned him to ask how he was getting on.

      “I have not yet found a place which fits your requirement. Please have a little more patience”, Falana explained with what Yomi suspected was contrived sadness. Yomi was dismayed. He often heard a lot about this sort of swindle but never thought it could ever happen to him. This morning his heart told him that he had thrown away three thousand Naira.

      Not sure of what to do next, he went looking again for Baba Lamidi. He remembered that the lady he’d previously met told him Baba Lamidi was expected back on Sunday, which was the previous day. Baba Lamidi was about to leave home when Yomi arrived.

      “Alakowe, you have come again?” Baba Lamidi was surprised to see him. Yomi was delighted that this old man whom he hadn’t seen in eight years still remembered him. Alakowe was a generic reference to a young scholar, and depending on how much mischief the speaker had in mind, it could be spoken in endearment or as a cloaked insult.

      “I am pleased that you still remember me Baba. I am not Alakowe, I am your son” Yomi laughed.

      “Okay, my son, what is your mission this time?” Baba asked.

      “Nothing specific, Baba. I have just come to say hello. I was here two days ago, but a young lady I met here told me you’d gone away on a journey”, Yomi told him.

      “Oh, it was you that came looking for me. My daughter told me about it. . What is so important that has kept you here for three days then? Don’t tell me you came all the way from Ibadan just to say hello”

      “I have been given a job in this town as a teacher. I will be here for a while; I don’t know for how long”

      “Is that so? That is wonderful. I will see you later then, because I am now on my way to my farm. We old people need to get out of the house as often as possible , otherwise Death will soon come calling while you are lying down and doing nothing”, Baba told him .

      “Can I come along with you?” he asked, seizing an excellent opportunity to relate more closely with Baba Lamidi.

      “You think you are able to do that? You people from the city can barely stay thirty minutes on your feet” Baba chuckled.

      “In that case, will you kindly permit me to surprise you?” Yomi promised.

      “As you wish then”, Baba replied, shrugging frail shoulders.

      “How will you get to farm? How do you usually go there?” Yomi asked

      “Usually, Atanda drives me in my car .But today the car has a problem starting, so we aim to just take a bus to the highway and then walk the rest of the way. It is good exercise”, Baba said. A young fellow standing behind him nodded. He had the eager look of a school child on his way to a fun excursion.

      “Let me take you there in my car”, Yomi offered.

      “That is very generous of you. You are so kind”, Baba thanked him.

      The journey was short. It took less than ten minutes to arrive at the footpath leading from the highway, to Baba Lamidi’s farm. From there, they began the long walk. Yomi and Baba Lamidi conversed as they walked. While Atanda quietly followed behind.

      Yomi spoke enthusiastically of his experience at the Heritage Theater Project .Baba listened attentively, humming and nodding his head. He also spoke of his future project plans now that the Heritage Theater was in trouble; principal of which was to have his own stage and film production enterprise. The chat broke the monotony of their journey. Yomi reckoned they must have walked about a quarter of a mile through semi-forest before they arrived at Baba Lamidi’s farm,

      Yomi did not fail to notice that even though Baba Lamidi walked steadily and with determination, he made progress with more than a bit of difficulty. By the time they arrived at the farm, Baba Lamidi had become very sweaty and breathed with more difficulty than Yomi thought he should. Nevertheless, considering that Baba was in his seventies, Yomi thought that long walks should naturally be a challenge. Atanda, a young lad who came along with Baba however showed no sign of strain at all; neither did Yomi. The sun was yet mild.

      “What do you think Baba?” Yomi asked, when they finally arrived at the farm

      “I think you have a lot of good ideas. God will make it possible for you. I will certainly like to see one of your plays when you put it on stage”, Baba encouraged.

      “I’d rather you see one of them, as it progresses to the stage, Baba”, Yomi was more optimistic.

      “If that is what you wish, then God will make it possible”, Baba agreed.

      “There is one play that is actually written for dance; or may I say instead a dance performance that is to be done as a play. I want it to become the most spectacular stage play anyone in the world has ever seen.” .Yomi persisted.

      “When is it going to be acted? I will definitely want to see that one”, Baba Lamidi was hopeful

      “I have not yet completed writing it. That is one of the reasons I have come here”, Yomi told him. Baba Lamidi looked disappointed.

      “Young man, I will do what I am able to help; but as you can see, I am no more young. I no more have the strength that I used to have”, he warned.

      The

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