Dead Men's Path

Dead Men's Path

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Michael Obi's hopes were fulfilled much earlier than he had expected. He was  appointed headmaster of Ndume Central School in January 1949. It had always

been an unprogressive school, so  the Mission specialists chose to send a  youthful and energetic man to run it. Obi acknowledged this responsibility with enthu­ siasm. He had numerous great thoughts and this was an opportunity to put them

into practice. He had had sound optional school training which assigned

him a "pivotal instructor" in the official records and set him separated from the other

headmasters in the mission field. He was outspoken in his condemnation of the  limited views of these older and often less­educated ones. "We shall make a good job of it, shan't we?" he asked his young wife when

they first heard the joyful news of his promotion. "We shall give a valiant effort," she answered. "We shall have such beautiful nurseries

and  everything will be  simply present day and  superb . . . " In  their two  years  of wedded life she had turned out to be totally tainted by his enthusiasm for "modern  strategies" and his denigration of "these old and superannuated people in the

teaching field who would be better utilized as traders in the Onitsha mar­ ket." She started to see herself as of now as the respected spouse of the young head­ ace, the queen of the school. The spouses of different instructors would begrudge her position. She would set

the design in everything . . . At that point, abruptly, it happened to her that there  probably won't be different spouses. Wavering between expectation and dread, she asked her better half, looking anxiously at him. "Every one of our partners are young and unmarried," he said with energy

which for once she did not share. "Which is a good thing," he proceeded.

"Why?"  "Why? They will give all their time and vitality to the school."

Nancy was depressed. For a couple of minutes she ended up suspicious about the

new school; however it was just for a couple of minutes. Her little individual mishap

couldn't visually impaired her to her husband's upbeat prospects. She took a gander at him as he

sat folded up in a seat. He was stoop­shouldered and looked fragile. In any case, he

some of the time astounded individuals with sudden bursts of physical vitality. In his pre­  sent stance, nonetheless, all his substantial strength seemed to have resigned behind

his deep­set eyes, giving them an exceptional power of entrance. He was

just twenty­six, yet looked thirty or more. On the entire, he was not unhand­  some."A penny for your thoughts, Mike," said Nancy after a while, impersonating

the lady's magazine she read. "I was thinking what a fabulous open door we have finally to demonstrate these

individuals how a school ought to be run."

Ndume School was in reverse in every feeling of the word. Mr. Obi put his

entire life into the work, and his significant other hers as well. He had two points. A high stan­

dard of teaching was demanded, and the school compound was to be

transformed into a position of magnificence. Nancy's dream­gardens sprung up with the

happening to the downpours, and bloomed. Lovely hibiscus and allamanda fences

in brilliant red and yellow set apart out the painstakingly tended school compound

from the rank neighborhood shrubs. One night as Obi was respecting his work he was scandalized to see an

old woman from the town stumble directly over the compound, through a

marigold flower­bed and the fences. On going up there he discovered black out signs

of an almost neglected path from the town over the school compound to the

bush on the other side. "It astounds me," said Obi to one of his instructors who had been three years

in the school, "that you individuals enabled the locals to utilize this foot­  way. It is essentially amazing." He shook his head. "The path," said the teacher apologetically, "has all the earmarks of being very impor­

tant to them. Although it is not really utilized, it associates the town place of worship with

their place of burial."  "And what has that got the chance to do with the school?" asked the director.

"All things considered, I don't know," replied the other with a shrug of the shoulders. "Be that as it may, I remember there was a major line some time back when we endeavored to

close it."  "That was some time prior. Be that as it may, it won't be utilized now," said Obi as he

walked away. "What will the Government Education Officer think of this

when he comes to assess the school one week from now? The locals may, for all I

know, choose to utilize the schoolroom for a pagan ritual during the investigation."

Substantial sticks were planted intently over the path at the two spots where

it entered and left the school premises. These were further strengthened with

spiked metal.

Three days later the town minister of Ani called on the dean. He was

an old man and strolled with a slight stoop. He conveyed a hefty walking­stick

which he typically tapped on the floor, by method for accentuation, each time he made

another point in his contention. "I have heard," he said after the normal trade of cordialities, "that our

hereditary trail hasrecently been closed . . . "  "Yes," answered Mr. Obi. "We can't enable individuals to make an interstate of

our school compound."

"Look here, my son," said the cleric bringing down his walking­stick, "this path was here before you were born and before your father was conceived. The

entire existence of this town depends on it. Our dead relatives leave by it and our

progenitors visit us by it. Be that as it may, most significant, it is the way of children coming

in to be conceived . . . "

Mr. Obi tuned in with a fulfilled grin on hisface. "The entire reason for our school," he said at long last, "is to destroy just

such convictions as that. Dead men don't require trails. The entire thought is

simply awesome. Our duty is to teach your children to laugh at such ideas."  "What you say might be valid," answered the cleric, "however we pursue the prac­

tices of our fathers. In the event that you reopen the path we will have nothing to squabble

about. What I generally state is: let the bird of prey perch and let the falcon roost." He

rose to go. "I am grieved," said the youthful dean. "Be that as it may, the school compound can­

not be an avenue. It is against our regulations. I would recommend your con­

structing another way, skirting our premises. We can even get our young men to

help in building it. I don't assume the predecessors will locate the little detour too

burdensome."  "I have no more words Co state," said the old minister, effectively outside. Two days later a young lady in the town kicked the bucket in childbed. A soothsayer

was quickly counseled and he endorsed substantial penances to appease an­  cestors offended by the fence. Obi woke up next morning among the remnants of his work. The lovely

supports were torn up not simply close to the way however right round the school, the

blooms stomped on to death and one of the school structures pulled down . . . That day, the white Supervisor came to investigate the school and composed a frightful

report on the condition of the premises however more truly about the "tribal­war sit­  uation developing between the school and the town, emerging to some degree from the

confused energy of the new director."