****My favorite extract from Things Fall Apart... Amalinze the cat was confident he would win this fight. For one, it was pitched against Alika, the village drunkard who lurched around the village from dawn to dusk high on the piddle of the gods. He would walk around the village shoeless, not a clue in his head to the comings and goings in the village and when called upon to voice his opinions on grave issues, like that one time when the mba mmiri warriors carted away 20 fresh, young maidens in the thick of the night, Alikas profound wisdom on that occassion, was to solemnly declare, Pray. Pray to Amadioha for increased protection. But for the last time we offered a virgin as a peace offering, it would have been worse. May Amadioha help us! Such unwisdom from the mouth of the village drinkard and neer do well only served to reinforce Amalinzes opinion that this scheduled match was already over before it had even started. The mere unveiling of his well oiled, muscular body a few days to the match would be enough to send Alika into an adverse drink reaction. His sodden and addled heart would be unable to stand the shock and one of two things would happen: He would either keel over from shock and die, or he would acknowledge Amalinzes superiority and bow out of the race. And so, spurred on by the massive defection of Alikas relatives, supporters and friends in the few days prior to the match, their open show of support for Amalinze in spite of the fact that his last match was over a decade ago and while the voices of those who swore by his winning that match as a result of expert tactics employed was high, there was also a rumbling undertone of those who believed he won by the application of mere technicalities. As far as The Cat was concerned, that was neither here nor there. People were willingly jumping on his bandwagon, they wanted to show their support for him and let Alika know quite clearly, that were they willing to overlook his excessive love for monkey tail, his verbal diarrhea was a constant reminder that he might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer. Alikas training tactics were greeted with hoots of derision. Go to all the shrines you like, visit all the ndi ichies and nze na ozo you can think up, we will not win this match on the altar of sentiments but on brawn. When Alika began physical training on the advice of his loyalists, again, Amalinzes camp found reason to scoff. Such scrawny muscles. Too little, too soon. Na today? Meanwhile, the match day kept drawing closer and closer.... nearer and nearer... How was Amalinze preparing? Well, was he really preparing? Even Alika and his supporters knew he was the man to watch, the best man for the job. He was only as yet undecided on whether to fight or not. Sometimes, he would want to send one of his boys in training who was younger, and had the agility and dextirity to end the match as quickly as possible. At other times, he felt drawn to enter the arena himself. If for nothing else, to give Alika a well deserved trouncing and pass across the message first hand that you do not mess with The Cat. While he rolled about which decision to take in his mind, he set about wooing and enticing more supporters away from Alikas camp, mediating in rabbles roused by some of his more cantankerous supporters, ogling the rolling backsides of the village maidens as they returned from the streams and poking fun at Alika whenever he went past on any of his jaunts. Post-March Dawn: Amalinzes long suffering wife Adaobi held a towel soaked in hot water in which a whole bottle of aboniki balm had been infused against his swollen eye. He had only recently been roused from the stupor in which he had been carried back to the hut from the village square. All thanks to Mbekwu ako niho, the wizened herbal doctor, it had been touch and go for a moment. My Love, how could Alika have felled you with just one blow? You? A whole Amalinze The Cat? Are you sure his gloves were not weighted? Did he use black magic? ****** This would have been my favorite extract from Things Fall Apart if the late great author had had the foresight to write it into the novel... *sigh* APC, a teeny, weeny question for you... are we working with 2015 in mind or 2019? The shoeless, clueless one is gaining mileage while you are yet to field an opponent. It is on record that you are an Association of Professional Crybabies. Stop mocking and criticising and get your acts together now. Dont come whining and squealing after the polls about how election was rigged incumbency wahala etchetarim etchetarim. As far as the presidential race is concerned, we the fence sitters are watching your unpreparedness and the antics of your boys closely. Peace!
Posted on: Mon, 17 Feb 2014 11:30:05 +0000
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