The Orchard Lesson

by Kemabib Dematepia

I was about 10 years old on the day my elder brother and I set out with two older friends foraging for rare fruits in the jungle. After about a kilometer of trekking we located soursop, guava, rare mango and avocado trees. There was a problem; we noticed a compound tucked not too far away from our position in the jungle. Common sense told us the fruit trees belonged to the owner of the compound. We however decided to quietly help ourselves but failed to notice three strong and healthy looking men in a nearby farm. One of them saw us picking the fruits and shouted: “Thieves! Thieves” 

We abandoned our ill-gotten harvest and started running. The farmers were hot on our heels. After about a minute of running as fast as our short legs could go we realised they were closing in on us and decided to hide in a section of the farm full of green cocoyam plants averaging about 1.5 meters in height. Their large green umbrella-like leaves offered proper cover. We laid in absolute silence under the leaves, fully confident they would not find us. We were right. Only, in the heat of the moment, we forgot that when one rushes through cocoyam plants the ones you touch will continue swinging back and forth for a while before settling down. 

The pursuers followed the oscillating leaves and effortlessly apprehended all of us. I was very angry with myself when I got on my feet and noticed the swaying cocoyam plants. They took us to their compound. One of the men went over to a nearby thicket and started harvesting whips. The grandpa of the compound emerged just when the flogging was about to start. The commotion woke him up from sleep. We heard him pass the order: 

“Do not flog them with the whips! We will be using machetes. Go bring some.” 

We patiently waited while they were busy sharpening the machetes. We were scared to death because we understood from the clearly chosen words of the grandpa that the lashing will be done with the farming tools. 

We felt partially relieved when he told his grandsons to give us the machetes and ordered us to clear the weeds under the fruit trees closest to the compound. After about 10 minutes, he commanded us to stop working and come over to where he was seated. We sat near him on the ground expecting a lecture on the consequences of stealing. He said nothing. He was busy smoking a pipe rocking back and forth in his chair. After a few minutes of total silence two of his grandsons came from the rear of the compound with four bags of assorted, freshly-harvested fruits. 

The old man finally spoke. He ordered them to give each one of us a bag. We thanked him and he told us to go home without adding a word. …We were totally confused. We worked for about 10 minutes and were heading home with bags of assorted fruits! Still on the way home I vowed to myself I will never ever again take or accept anything in life without working for it. Grandpa Wantoh gave me my greatest, most effective and most memorable life lesson till date.