Among all the expeditions we went on in our childhood days, this particular one was the most adventurous. Muftawu, Salam, Jamus, and I were preparing on one cold morning as to how to beat all the vantage points to invade a maize farmland which neither belonged to us nor any of our family members. But why maize? As children as we were, we never had enough money to buy either roasted maize or ripe plantain from the vendors on the streets although it was something we always had appetite for. This appetite grew out of hand and was a key motivative factor which drove this expedition.
The Kumasi Technical Institute (KTI) plantation was the prime target. A machete for cutting our way through the thorns, a sack for loading the maize we will eventually gather, and a strong long rope to tie the sack were all the necessities needed to make our plan a successful one. With Salam’s father working in the Sawmill, he had the luxury to hijack his father’s spare wellington boots as the rest of us were just in flip-flops. It promised to be a good start as there was no one in Salam’s house to monitor us left alone to prevent us from executing our timed plan.
It is usually the case that within every group of friends, there is one who mostly draws the group’s attention on how dangerous a activity might be. However, in our case, not a single one of us had doubts of fear or failure for we have succeeded in every singular plot we ever planned.
So as not to avail ourselves for any scrutiny whatsoever, the plan was to use the New Oxford end of the KTI wall. There, we could just climb onto the wall and land right inside the plantation. This became the plan unanimously agreed on by all four of us. Carrying all our accoutrements, we were focused on the task ahead. Muftawu, being the bravest walked side-by-side with Salam, who knew all the ins and outs of the area in question. We got to the wall only to find out that the big brick to serve as an elevation for our successful climb had disappeared. Quickly, Jamal went for another brick near the gutter to replace it.
Our tools were thrown in first before four of us followed by landing right into the farmland of the school. After walking a further distance we reached our destination. Cutting down and plucking was the order of the day. We loaded so much maize like no one’s business forgetting that we would have to deal with carrying the heavy ‘successful’ harvest over the thick tall wall. Hey! Hey! “Wan mo na 3w)h) no?” (Hey! Hey! Who are those there?). These were the shouts we heard from afar. The heart started to beat faster, and the brain gradually froze. We did not know who exactly was screaming at us and because the maize plantations had higher elevations, we could not see the person approaching. What we knew for sure was that someone was coming for us.
There and then, Jamal fled and having long legs, he managed to jump over the great K.T.I wall. No wonder he later on became a fine high jumper. Hahaha! In those moments, Salam had already used a route only known to him. As for Muftawu, he wanted to carry the hefty sack full of maize but after realizing its impossibility, he then poured some away from the sack and took the quantity he could carry across. Another surprise was Muftawu’s ability to scale that wall as well – regardless of how small he was. What was I waiting for? It was my turn to flee the scene. My only hope was to go through the normal difficult route of jumping the wall. Meerrrn! I was successful at it although I had few bruises on my legs and arms for landing awkwardly on the quiet street outside the school compound. Salam was still not in reach. I could see Jamal far ahead followed by Muftawu; the sack carrier, swiftly running back to Salam’s house.
We got to Salam’s house breathing a heavy sigh of relief. After waiting for a while, Salam never showed up. God! What had happened to Salam? Has he being caught? No one had a clue. We run back to our various homes leaving the sack of maize at Salam’s home. Later in the evening, Salam came to our homes to narrate his side of the story and elaborated on what happened to him. He confessed that he was caught by one of the security men and then taken to the main gate for probation. Luckily for him, he was spared because on of the security guards at post knew Salam’s mother very well. As to what happened to the maize left in his house, he never talked about it. Neither did we ever ask about it till date – for we knew we had not been good friends by leaving him to his fate.
Therefrom, it had become a lesson for us all that no matter how successful one has ever been at executing something, there is still a possibility that he/she could get things wrong if that engagement is not planned out well.
In our friendly circles, we must be able to identify the appropriate times to venture into engagements of ours – for if not assessed well, those may land us into grievous troubles. From that day on, we never ventured into such dangerous expeditions ever again. This happening was a clear testament to the popular saying, “Once bitten, twice shy”.
Peace 🕊️
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