‘Always a price tag’

A regular reader of this diary, read last week’s entry on our safari holiday and wrote to say he totally agreed with the late famous writer, Alhaji Abubakar Imam that ‘travelling is the gateway to knowledge.’ He (who didn’t want his name mentioned) also opined that better than big houses and big cars, children should […]

A regular reader of this diary, read last week’s entry on our safari holiday and wrote to say he totally agreed with the late famous writer, Alhaji Abubakar Imam that ‘travelling is the gateway to knowledge.’ He (who didn’t want his name mentioned) also opined that better than big houses and big cars, children should be exposed to travelling, so they can experience different people, places and cultures as well as the beauty of nature. According to him this will enable them ‘appreciate Almighty Allah’s greatness and remain in awe of Him.’ He also requested a flashback to any of the earlier holidays featured on this page. I decided to oblige him. Below is a twelve year-old entry inspired by our second family holiday. Enjoy your weekend.

The full moon wasn’t visible by the time we made our way through the un-tarred village road to Papa’s house. Papa was the fisherman who took us on a boat ride across the river two days before; an event which included a sea food picnic, when we landed at an island some thirty or so minutes away from the hotel.
Neither Tahir nor I bothered to find out why Papa was named so.
Of one thing we were certain though, the young fisherman was nobody’s father. He wasn’t even married yet, he disclosed after letting us know that the ladies cooking our lobster treat were his younger sisters. We didn’t have to wait too long before the special dish was ready.
The children were all eagerly awaiting its arrival. Their father had talked about nothing else ever since the fisherman had called at the hotel to say that lobster, which was not in season had been found.
Eating the treat however was a different story. All of them cringed at the sight of a scary-looking creature lying comfortably on their plate of good old rice and gravy. It took the able assistance of Tahir and Papa to remove the outer shell of the grilled sea delicacy and have the children eat it. Soon afterwards, dinner was over but not before Papa has displayed one more proof of his being a seasoned tourist attendant.
 He presented us with a tray of clean and well-cut fleshy mangoes. Fruits aren’t a natural accompaniment to food in this country, as indeed they are not in some other parts of Africa. So finding  a local service that includes fruits as a matter of course, really proves the international nature of Papa’s clientele.
 Then it was time to go. Tahir had promised earlier that the trip back to the hotel will be made in a taxi. In this country,  which represents the western-most part of West Africa, the sun sets at almost 8pm, which means that Maghrib is prayed at eight and that the village streets were still faintly lighted by the time we walked from the hotel to the fisherman’s home.
But going back on foot was not an alternative.
Especially since the roads are dark and tree-lined and not particularly safe for a stranger and his brood, thousands of miles away from home. And so to the taxi we trooped, as soon as an empty one had stopped in front of Papa’s house. It was no more than a three-minute ride to the hotel.
 The moment we got here, Tahir walked to the reception area to collect our keys. It was while waiting for his return that I saw the full moon.
Almost unconsciously I began to work towards the hotel gate where a breathtaking reflection of the full moon, on the river, was drawing me spell-bound, towards it. The children, all sleepy after their heavy meal, unanimously asked where I was going.
 That brought me crashing back to reality, and I was torn between the urge to go out of the gate and stand by the river, which was just a few feet away, and the need to attend to the sleepy children. My motherly instincts took over and the next moment I was shepherding them to their room and ensuring that everyone has had a quick shower before observing their night prayers and going to sleep.
A little while later, I joined Tahir in our room next door and the first thing I said was :’You know, I entirely believe the saying that the best things in life are free.’
‘Why, what happened to make you feel that way?’ He asked.
‘Well, look at that breathtaking view of the moon reflecting on the river when we got out of the taxi, it was heavenly and yet what did we have to give for it?
Nothing.’ I explained.
‘Oh no that didn’t come free, you did have to give something for it. Do you remember the cost of your plane ticket? That was the price you paid for the grand view you beheld.’ He argued.
‘Tahir, you don’t have to see everything in naira and kobo terms. In any case, the idea is that you didn’t have to buy the river or the moon to see their ethereal beauty at one and the same time. ‘
‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean that they came at no price at all.’ He countered ‘You have no idea how much trouble I went through to get us this ideal holiday setting in Saint Louis, Senegal.
The river at your doorstep, the sea at your rear and your hotel right in the middle. No Bint, some things in life may come free but this vacation isn’t one of them.’ Tahir insisted.
‘Okay have it your way, but please know that you are simply taking the joy out of it.’
I protested, turning to face the wall on my side of the bed.
‘I’m sorry Bint, 1’m simply having fun because it’s such great fun arguing with you. You see you argue with a passion and it can get quite entertaining sometimes. But 1 agree with you and the others, the best things in life are mostly free.’ He concurred.
‘Yes, like having a dutiful, adoring wife, always at your beck and call.’ I agreed, turning back to face him.
‘Not really, you didn’t quite come free you know, I remember having to pay a dowry … .’
‘There we go again’ I interrupted.
‘And an assortment of bridal gifts, not to mention those expensive, transcontinental phone calls when I was trying to woo you. No you didn’t come free at all Bint, nor were you particularly cheap.’
He added nostalgically.
‘Right, the next thing you will be telling me is that even our children did not come free but remember you didn’t have to pay anyone a kobo to get them. Of that I can safely swear’ I countered.
‘Don’t swear Bint, a certain guy named doctor, kept sending me bills from the time you started ante-natals to the time you deliver.
So what was he taking the money for?’ He asked rhetorically.
‘I give up Tahir ‘ I said pulling the bed cover up to my neck ‘good night’.
‘Good night wifey dear. You really made my day with those scintillating arguments.
But the morale of this whole exercise is that nothing in life is really free, everything comes at a price.
It’s just that some things are worth the price tag, like you, our marriage, our children, this family holiday; and others are not. The important thing is to know those that are worth paying for and those that are not.’ And with that he reached for the bedside lamp and put it off.