THE DAY I WAS SAVED BY THE TRUTH.
There was an unwritten rule between my father and me. We never lied to each other. Even I had committed murder, God forbid, I will ‘gladly’ own up to my father. The same thing he will do to me. However, he had the upper hand over me since he was the bigger ‘boy.’ He told me straight away that telling him the truth about my misdemeanors ( I was not particularly soft) may not preclude me from their consequences. He, reserved, he told me, the prerogative to punish or not to punish. That was not even a problem for me. Sometimes, I even prescribed my punishment once I was guilty as charged.
One day, one of the most embarrassing accusations came from an extended family member, an elderly one. It was a sour taste in the mouth.
I had helped my father convey the gourd of palm wine to the family compound meeting, as it was his turn to provide the entertainment. Those guys hardly gather without something to lubricate their throats. I had barely put the gourd down when this man came to accuse me of seeing me climbing a mango tree, and on seeing him, how I ran to the bush.
Not that I was strange to climbing mango trees, or whatever tree for that matter, but it just did not happen on the day he alleged or the location he claimed he saw me.
For a proper perspective, our ancestral farmland shares borders with our high school compound, situated at the borders of two neighboring communities. So quite often, when trekking home, as we usually do, there is every possibility to see an extended family member, coming to or from the farm, or from hunting or even climbing the raffia tree for the evening tapping of the fresh wine.
So, that made his story believable.
Nevertheless, I always have a good sense of time and events. I quickly recalled rebuffing his unfounded allegations.
He insisted that it was impossible to mistake me for anyone else, even in the thick darkness.
However, I had my own alibi! The alibi made my defense worse, or it seemed at the initial stage.
I told him in the presence of all elders that I returned from the school in the company of one of my friends that particular day. To justify his big of a lie, he now mentioned my friend’s mother’s name to convince his other fellows. I was almost getting angry at that time.
Then there was a small providence on my side. His own son, who was still attending elementary school (primary), then happened to be coming from the farm that blessed day, and we have trekked together to the town. He appeared from their house within the large compound to testify that we all came together on that day. Before the boy could finish, he sent him back to the house.By this time, my ‘fuse’ was nearing an explosion.
My father sensing my red eyes gave me a signal that I should go home.
I was so angry when I got home and waiting for my father to return from the meeting that I would have lost my appetite if not for the harmonious relationship between the king of swallow and me, the indefatigable pounded yam.
So, my father returned and asked me to calm down and explain what happened to him.
I told him it was not true, was the man said. I did not climb mango or any tree on that particular day or time. Therefore, I could not have run into the bush.
My father simply said, “I believe you.”
Then he went with his almost daily sermon to me, “to tell the truth and die is worth more than to lie and live.” He further said that he never believed anything said by that big uncle (we usually called them small daddy then, once younger than our real biological father).
He encouraged me not to relent in speaking the truth, no matter what ‘harm’ it may bring to me. Ever since, I often hear that voice telling me always to toe the path of truth.
Till today, I still wondered why the man would make up such a lie against me. What purpose did he want to achieve? Did he just hate me for nothing? Did he actually see someone like me that day? No matter the answer to these questions, he chose the wrong target that day, as I came out unscathed by my no-nonsense father.
It was a day that speaking the truth indeed set me free.
This is my reflection this year, all glory to God, as I think about my birthday again tomorrow, the 7th day of November.
©TheVillageBoy