Jengo was excited; he was leaving for Jong tomorrow to work on his uncle’s farm for the entire summer.  It would be a nice change from the hustle, bustle and humidity of the big city.  Although he knew he would have to work hard, it would be a wonderful new experience for him.  His mum was probably pleased to see him go, he chuckled to himself, because he was always coming home very late now that his exams were over and he was letting his hair down and spending more time with his friends.  She always worried that something might happen to him; no matter how much he tried to reassure her that he would be fine she still got worried, especially when he returned home in the early hours of the morning.  So she was happy to send him to the country for the summer, where she felt he would be safe with his uncle’s family.

Uncle Tom was the brother of Jengo’s father, Samuel; they were both born in Jong and grew up there but uncle Tom never left while Samuel, drawn by the promise of opportunities in the big city, decided that his future lay in Freetown instead. He met Jengo’s mother Selina at a disco in the capital and they have been together ever since.  Jengo has one sister called Sia, who is two years younger than him. Their mum thought she was too young to make the trip.

Jengo’s mum dropped him off early at the bus depot near cotton tree the next day.  She waited and waved until the bus was out of sight, thundering down Siaka Stevens street in a plume of smoke and noise.  The bus was old and rusty in parts and had seen better days, the air conditioner wasn’t working so Jengo reached up and opened the window to let in some air.  He didn’t mind, he was sitting next to a slim pretty girl; he waited a few moments and summoned up the courage to ask her name.

“Aminata”, she said in a shy, quiet voice.

“Where are you going”?

“To Jong” she replied.

“What a co-incidence, so am I”, Jengo just about managed to restrain himself from punching the air with glee.

“I live there.  I was visiting my aunt in Freetown and now I am returning home”.

“Ah, so you live in Jong, I am actually going to visit my uncle there for the summer to help him on his farm.  Maybe you can show me around sometime.”

“Sure, I would be happy to”.

They lapsed into silence as the bus passed through village after village, from Waterloo to Shenge and finally Bonthe, making several stops along the way.  They spoke some more, making polite conversation from time to time.  Jengo liked her very much but did not want to scare her off, he would offer her the hand of friendship and try to win her trust that way.  The bus reached the end of its journey, they were in Mattru Jong at last.  Aminata turned to Jengo and gave him a piece of paper.

“That is my phone number, if you call me I will show you around.  Maybe we can go fishing sometime”.

Jengo smiled broadly and said “I would like that very much.  I will call you once I have settled in”.

As they left the bus, he noticed a woman walking towards them, it must be her mum, he thought to himself.  She greeted Aminata warmly, smiled at him and took her hand as they walked together down a narrow gravel pathway leading from the bus stop.  Jengo paused for a moment and looked around him, just at that moment he saw his uncle waving at him from the opposite direction as he emerged from his beaten up old car.   Jengo made his way purposefully towards him; it was a huge effort not to look back.

Copyright © O M Thomas 2011

Olabisi was having a party. It was her twenty first birthday and her parents had agreed to throw her a big party; one hundred people had been invited.  A lot of planning had gone into making sure it would be one of the best parties of the season.  It was Easter time, the flowers were in bloom and the garden at the Coker residence was suffused with bright colour; reds, oranges and yellows, with the trees in the yard offering a bold green background, like a vibrant painting on canvas.

Olabisi woke early on the day of her party, it was Saturday, which was also her birthday.  How lucky she was to have her birthday fall at the weekend, she instinctively knew that it was going to be a great party. She had invited all her friends, cousins and acquaintances, and there would be a good mix of boys and girls.  She wanted to have fun before her studies started again in earnest for the summer term. She would soon be a university graduate of one of the best colleges in West Africa, credited as the Athens of educational excellence in that part of the world.  Olabisi herself was not so sure but that was a story for another time, this morning she was more preoccupied with whether the caterer would deliver the party food on time.  As she entered the kitchen she noticed that the drinks had arrived, the beer and wine and all manner of soft drinks.  She was confident that there was more than enough there, the crates were stacked floor to ceiling and covered every bit of spare space in the kitchen.  She walked out to the veranda and called out to the housekeeper who was in the driveway talking to her mother’s driver.

“Do you know what time the food is going to arrive?” she asked.

“The caterer said she was going to get here around six o’clock”

That was cutting it a bit fine, Olabisi thought, perhaps she should call her and ask if she could deliver an hour earlier, because six o’clock probably meant closer to seven.  Sensing her disquiet the housekeeper said

“Don’t worry, I will call and ask her if she can come a little earlier”.

“That would be really helpful” Olabisi replied, relief clear in her voice.

The party was due to start at eight o’clock although most people would probably arrive after nine. Olabisi could do with the extra bit of time.  She set about tidying up in the living room and called out to her brother Paul to come and help her.  Surprisingly, he very adeptly moved the heavier pieces of furniture out of the way and by the time they had finished the chairs were nicely pushed back against the walls, a couple of coffee tables interspersed among them.  More chairs would be arriving soon and those would be placed in the dining room and veranda.

The afternoon passed in a haze of activity and before Olabisi could take stock it was already seven o’clock.  Thankfully the food had arrived on time, the caterer delivered it just after five o’clock and the housekeeper was arranging it on trays in the kitchen.  Olabisi went to her room to get ready for her big night; she put on her black dress and stiletto shoes last, and went out to greet her first guests.  Her cousins had arrived early to help out, and she was pleased to see them.

By half past nine the party was in full swing, most people had arrived and the drinks were flowing.  Guests spilled out on to the veranda; some ventured out into the garden but quickly made it back to the shelter of the veranda by the sting of mosquitoes. Others took to the floor to show off their dancing skills; Paul was disc jockey for the evening and was doing a great job, with the dance floor full to bursting by ten o’clock.

The birthday cake was cut just before midnight and there were loud cheers that could be heard down the road. Guests trickled away in the early hours with the last few leaving just after three o’clock in the morning.  Olabisi fell into bed exhausted and elated, with a smile on her face.  As she drifted off to sleep she reflected that it had been for her, the party of the season.  Copyright © O M Thomas 2011