‘My tortuous journey to the marble land’
Taiwo Abiodun recounts his experience at the Marble sites in Igbeti
As Dayo , my Okada chaperon rode his motorcycle furiously into the belly of the bush, the shrubs and plants were ‘flogging’ me and tears was cascaded down my eyes as a result of the breeze. We rode through valleys , streams , contours and were dragged along on the sandy and the muddy paths. Some areas of the road are in bad patch , some are smooth while some are full of potholes .One could sight precious sands and pebbles of good quality along yet one would imagine how trailers and lorries manage to come there to load the stones.Well, in my mind I thought since the place is a gold mine businessmen will surely find their way ‘by fire by force’ to get to the gold mine.
Just then I sighted a big snake crawling across the road, I cringed and gave a heavy sigh .I remembered the last words of Jesus Christ on the Cross, ‘it is finished’. I soliloquized, and could not tell the Okada rider to turn back.
We did not hear the chirping of the birds , as I was curious to know what were in some wooden boxes kept by some cashew trees , I came down to see the contents. But curiosity kills the cat , the saying goes , unfortunately some bees stung me , and I was told this is where artificial boxes were kept to catch them.
Suddenly my phone rang , lo and behold it was my wife’s voice asking where I was , and I told her. I also told her how frightened I was , she responded ‘ but you chose the profession( journalism) .Then she warned me ” don’t eat bush meat there and beware of Ebola. I don’t want to be an overnight widow”.
Again I was enveloped with fear as my heart sank when I sighted another big snake that crawling across again .I asked myself ”Did they send this to me?”. But that is its abode – bush. I remembered how God cursed the ugly serpent and pondered over the Biblical story once again.
I called my boss, Olayinka Oyegbile that I could not go further but he raked and teased me saying ” You dare not , what nonsense is that?”, he added “but you call yourself Babalawo of The Nation, use your magical power to do the story .I need result “, he thundered on phone.
I looked up at the sky -no birds were flying . I looked around , the whole environment was bushy. I put my hand into my pocket and grabbed a lobe of kolanuts and started chewing it as if it is the source of my courage and energy. I did the sign of the Cross on my forehead – as if I am a Catholic . I threw up a coin and said ”head or tail’.I became confused , the Okada rider looked at me and smiled , then said ” no problem , let us go, it is an adventure’.
Genesis of the story
Yes, I inflicted this assignment on myself . At our usual Editorial Meeting on Monday , I had suggested the story of Igbeti Marble and my no – nonsense editor, Festus Eriye , approved it . I had initially thought he would not approve since I was eager to go on my annual leave but I was wrong. Immediately he heard the story idea, he said ‘ that is a good story ‘ thus I was mandated to go for the story.
Now faced with this hurdles on my way to the marble land , I asked myself , will I return and say I couldn’t do the story again?
I tried my phones again to ask my wife to pray for me but there was no network in all my phone lines. And I resigned myself to fate.
Stories in the bush!
When the Okada ran into a stream of sand that could be used for mixing cement, we both fell. When we crossed a small stream , I saw children swimming . I saw a Fulani girl aged about six grazing a herd of over 50 cows ; she used her long stick to control the animals .Some of these animas are so big that one cannot imagine a small girl of such age and stature controlling them. I came across a man who put a calf on an Okada, speeding as if his life depended on the calf but I was told the calf was dying and they had to quickly kill it and make suya from it, for if dead , nobody will eat it !.
Again, my heart pounded while its beat increased. I started blaming myself and asking , what I came to look for in this wilderness.?. I remembered my family .I remembered I had wanted to go on my annual leave several times and now fixed it for that weekend when I’m back. I wanted to change my mind to go back when I remembered Soka forest in Ibadan , the den of ritual practices . I asked myself, who would trace me to this place if anything happened to me ?. I looked at the sky and prayed that if I come back from this trip I will stop going on such trips .But I had said this many times in the past and had visited Forest of a Thousands of Daemons ( Igbo Irunmole) in Oke – Igbo, Evil Forest ( Igbo Aiwo ) Ogbomoso and many others .I summoned up courage and started singing a song I learnt in Modern School ” Nearer My God to Thee, nearer to thee.! “.I also sang ‘one of Bob Marley’s music from his record “Man to Man is so unjust Children , you don’t know who to trust , your worst enemy could be your best friend , and your best friend you worst enemy ….” .The boy who was my guard on the trip , however, remained gentle and humble , he is the son of one of the High Chiefs in Igbeti.
Later, we heard the sound of human beings in small huts and I became happy and I quickly came down to greet them , then we were directed to where the marbles are.
There were white marbles in the ground .Sand had been heaped away from it .One could see how engines were pumping water from the ground to enable the ‘ gold’ be blasted and excavated .Yes, one could see heavy duty trailers and hefty men loading trailers and lorries with marbles .The workers did not expect visitors and were confused seeing me .And with my camera I clicked as fast as I could.
When I saw the marbles I screamed that with these Nigeria is rich, and we should not cry of unemployment anymore.
These white marbles need no polish , as many are as white as snow. I imagined this could be the King Solomon’s Mines which Richard Haggard wrote about . Yes, on his way he met the Gagool the witch but I did not meet Gagool the witch .I remembered ‘Treasure Island,’ by by Robert Louis Stevenson and the Hispaniola ship they took to the island and because of the gold the one -legged pirate Long John Silver wanted to kill almost all the crew members in the ship!. I remember why the imperialists came to Gold Coast( now Ghana) , Congo Brazzaville and Zimbabwe all because of Gold and diamonds.Oh, God I screamed and stamped my feet on the ground several times .
Some of the workers are working like Jackass and they claim they pay them peanuts.One said his salary is not up to 10,000naira per month and working on billions of naira per day!.With their hollowed eye sockets it is as if they are battling with malnutrition.
At the marble sites were various types of sites or portions belonging to individuals.I went closer to one of the dug holes but the edges were soft and one could fall in, my guard quickly alerted me and warned me not to fall in.I picked some pieces of these precious stones , promising to show them in the office.In one of the sites I saw abandoned machines and their weather – beaten motor vehicles and crushers that had become rusty and wasting away.
After spending six hours in the bush we went back to town.