Thursday, October 14, 2010

Akorshi, The Moulder

Through the contours of these undulating hills of Bendi is Akorshi sandwiched, my birth place. The 4th in a stream of ten villages. Boasting of civility and accommodation, its landscape permannetly marked with evergreen forests that serrate during the dry season.From them came smokes billowing from the farmlands into the atmosphere in our inadvertent corruption of the ozone layer. Subsistence farming being our mainstay economy uptil this day. Here, it is a harmonious blend of man with environment.



Akorshi is sliced by two rivers-Athlelekor and Bekwang. In them we took our early swimming lessons in their even- shallowed depths where we competed with strings of frog eggs, spirogyra and burnt debris of "Arku" during their heats.The rivers complemented the harmattan with their emissive chills in December and evaporated steamy heat during February. In December, we must take our showers in the open streams before we wore our Christmas dresses, shaking vigorously in the harmattan cold. Sometimes, our smart dads gave us our brand new school uniforms as Christmas dresses. After Christmas, we continued using them at school.

The farmlands were usually far away for no man desiring good harvest cultivated the famished surrounds.Through the rugged roads, we learnt the art of survival from the fertiled soils of farway farmlands stoically. Now I know, these rugged roads were the roads of life and through stoicism, we achieve in our various endeavours. Survivng them in Akorshi means surviving them in faraway places.

On days we were miscreants and no food for the day was the meted punishment, we took to the forests where we hunted for rabbits and prepared for ourselves food from wild cassava. Then, we will steal salt and complement the ingredients with okro, 'whouna' or 'whodjun' depending on the season in the bush. Looking back, I reminiscence this unadulterated beauty and persistently ask why did I leave to this urban hostility? Where there are no neighbours and we must sleep with open eyes.

If you appreciate my mould, then give it to Akorshi for its socialization. Where we were told not to make love in the day time because we will run mad and not to pee on the road. If that happened and someone crossed it, your penis will be infested with an incurable sickness. We never dared because we wanted to remain sane.But during the moonsongs, hide and seeks, what we lost during day was fully compensated for. Even at that, we always adhered to "it is not my safe period" instructions from them. Herein lies the shaping of moral rectitude in its offsprings through fearful retributions for callous actions.

Out of this mould came Julius Unimnake Agiopu, my late daddy, Dr. Joseph Ushie, Sen. Musa Adede, Barristers Mike Aniah, Emmanuel Ubua Agiopu, Daniel Ushie, myself and an army of so many achievers I can not exhaustible list here. In all these, no Akorshi indigene has been named in armed robbery, cultism, corruption, prostitution, human trafficking and other vices. This is the measure of the extent of socialization in Akorshi village. This is my village where a good name is better than money.

Now I know that not all villages are called Akorshi. If that were the case, the Police Force will be absent, EFCC will not be established, Prisons will not be there and the crime dictionary will be extinct. So many villages marched on without "Akorshi" and bequeath a distorted society to us, even to Akorshians, that contributed not to it to bear. Out here, we are told it is right to covet, do human rituals and etc but the guarding spirit of Akorshi hovers over and constantly reminds me that my umblical cord is buried in Akorshi.

This is Akorshi, a village in Obanliku local government area of Cross River state. Akorshi gave me so much and I owe it so much more. One day, I shall begin to repay my huge pile of debts.That is the dream. And dreams come true.

- By Paul Agiopu

1 comment:

  1. Nice one uncle Paul I appreciate your time you take to write this brave history 💯❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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