Chapter 4: Chief’s Advice and Market Runs

As I don decide, I begin observe the farm.

Early morning, I waka round, sun never rise well. Dew dey ground, orange trees full everywhere. I count with stick, try check which ones ripe.

Most oranges never ripe finish; dem need till November or December. Papa say, na this month I get to find buyer.

I dey check calendar, dey ask myself, "How I wan take run am?" Mama just dey look me, her eyes dey ask question I no fit answer.

Whether na my family or others, everywhere full with orange tree, orange everywhere you look.

If you open your window, na orange tree you go see. Even road dey smell orange. The thing dey sweet and pain at the same time.

One tree dey bear plenty fruit, so with all these trees, we dey talk hundreds of tons. All these oranges, na me with my small marketing sense go sell am. How?

I laugh myself, say if to say na school, I go get A1 for wahala. This one pass my marketing class.

Honestly, this one hard pass my final year marketing project.

For school, na case study. For here, na real life. No lecturer to mark paper, na hunger go mark you.

I dey stand for farm ridge, dey think, when I hear deep voice for back.

Sun dey rise, my mind dey far. Suddenly, voice cut my thought like cutlass.

“Ifedike, when you come back? Why you no come my house? I hear say you dey do well now, wan help the village?”

The voice thick, with that Igbo accent wey dey mix English and mother tongue. I turn, wipe sweat.

I turn. Na our village head, Chief Okwudili, one of the first people wey plant orange.

He tall well, face full, clothes clean, slippers shining. He waka with pride. I quick greet am.

He no too old pass my papa, but with him black hair and big belle, e resemble local government chairman pass farmer.

Everybody respect am, but some people dey fear am small. E get mouth for government house. Even police dey greet am for road.

He dey smile, I no fit read am, so I just smile back.

For this side, if chief smile too much, e fit mean another thing. My body stand, I dey alert.

“Yes, chief. My papa say the original buyer no dey buy again, people dey worry. I just dey see if I fit help…”

My voice dey low. For presence of chief, you no fit talk anyhow. I humble myself, make e know say na respect I get.

Before I finish, he cut in, still dey smile.

His hand rest for my shoulder, his gold ring dey shine. "I like your spirit," he talk. I just nod, dey wait.

“You be good pikin. If pikin forget the stream wey e fetch water, e go thirsty. You do well. Na so e suppose be. Village children wey remember home go always progress."

“But make you know, before, we dey sell 600 naira per kilo. If you wan sell, price no fit too low.”

He frown small. "If price fall reach 200, na shame. Make people no dey laugh us for market."

“And I understand, business na business. If you wan help us sell, you go wan get something for yourself too, abi? So how much you wan collect from the village?”

He look me up and down, like say he dey size my motive. For this life, nobody dey trust free help.

I frown.

My chest rise, I no want make dem see me finish. For village, if you too soft, people go chop your eye.

“I understand. My papa talk this one too. But the real wahala be say orange too plenty. The original buyer talk 200 naira, others wey I call dey talk 300 or 350 naira, sometimes 400. I no fit promise, but I go try find more buyers, as much as I fit.”

I try explain am gentle, no use big grammar. I talk as pikin wey get respect, but make am clear say this one hard.

“As for your second point, I get my work, my salary dey okay. I no plan chop from these three or four hundred tons of orange. Any price we agree, na that one. I no go collect shishi from the village.”

I talk am bold. I raise my voice small, make e know say my hand clean. For village, word dey spread fast. No go stain my name.

Chief Okwudili laugh well.

The laugh long, belly shake. "You go learn, my pikin. Na so we dey start."

“See this boy, you dey talk like say I no trust you.”

He slap my back, smile wide. "Your papa train you well. Make you try."

He pat my shoulder.

His hand heavy, but na blessing. I just gree.

“Okay, I leave everything for una hand.”

He waka go, his boys follow am. My heart dey beat fast, but I try show face.

I know say as he talk this one, if e work, na good thing. If e no work, na me go carry the blame forever.

Everybody go say, "Na Ifedike spoil am." If I make am, dem go forget. Na so village life be.

Pressure just full my body. Na so my leg dey shake, but for village, man no dey show fear.

Sweat dey my back. For night, I no sleep well. My mind dey do press up.

I no imagine say this Independence Day, na so I go carry this kind wahala.

If dem tell me last week, I for laugh. Now, na me and my problem dey waka together.

For those seven days, apart from asking villagers, I start with the easiest—trace from Jumia shop to physical store, dey call people anyhow, dey beg make dem buy our fruit.

I even go roadside market, talk to some Alhajis wey dey buy in bulk. Oshodi noise dey my ear, conductor dey drag my shirt, but I no gree. People dey look me like say I wan sell land. I no care.

I busy like say na call center job I dey do, call no dey finish, even water I no get time drink.

My phone hot. Ear dey pain me from call. Credit dey finish, I dey borrow airtime, use WhatsApp, Facebook, anything.

But most people go just cut call once I start talk.

"Ah, sorry, market full!" "We don get supplier." Dem no even let me finish my sentence. The thing tire me.

If you think am well, e make sense. People wey dey do business for that level already get their own supplier, family or business partner. Who wan risk for stranger?

Trust no dey, especially for business wey get as e be. Na only family you fit trust, and sometimes, even family go run you street.

For seven days, sleep no reach my eye. Even for dream, I dey hawk orange.

I even dey shout "sweet orange!" for my sleep. Mama wake me one night, dey pray say make evil spirit no dey pursue me. I just laugh.