THE WOUND J.J. RAWLINGS INFLICTED ON MY LEGS

 THE WOUND J.J. RAWLINGS INFLICTED ON MY LEGS

I don’t remember the year but I remember I was in basic school. We had just closed from school and boys were idling in the neighbourhood.

The day had largely been uneventful and we were yearning for an escapade to end the day with so when words went round that J.J. had flown an HARUGONTA (helicopter) to town and landed on the Lasi park at Odumase-Krobo, our happiness was boundless.

Ei, J.J? And guess what, the news spread like a gas-fueled inferno. Human traffic soon started moving in one direction; the young and old swarmed in excitement to the park to catch a glimpse of ‘Junior Jesus’. The name was that simple, J.J, yes J.J., not Jerry John Rawlings, it was just J.J.

In that news, I found a compelling reason to evade the house chores that were waiting for my attention. I was scheduled to pound fufu for the family’s consumption and I was looking for a way to ‘balance from the system’ so I joined the boys, we quickly hatched a plan and took flight.

The prospect of seeing J.J. and his HARUGONTA filled us with so much energy that we sprinted at top speed and yet we didn’t run out of steam even after running for several minutes.

Then we encountered a hurdle; there was this short retaining wall erected across the ‘lungu lungu’ footpath - that meandered through the neighbourhood. It was meant to keep erosion in check.

The first two boys ahead of me scaled the wall with cheeky ease and that gave me a false impression that I could do so at the same speed as they did, so I hopped, stepped and jumped but I ended up miscalculating the height of the wall and the distance from where I jumped. I paid dearly, folks.

The wall scraped my shin and scooped a sizable flesh on my left leg. Jesus Christ of Nazareth ! The pain was damn excruciating. Tears welled in my eyes and rolled down my cheek unbidden. Blood trickled down my foot and left it drenched in no time.

PWe applied our knowledge of local medicine, fetched some acheampong leaves and rubbed it on the wounds to help stop the blood from flowing and yes it did but the wounds became more obvious. Then a dilemma set in, to go watch J.J. or retrace myself back home. 

My friends dragged me along like a wounded soldier, but as should be expected, the incident tamed us and managed to suppress our zeal/enthusiasm. We were no longer as boisterous and spirited as before. Now instead of running, we walked. The other boys walked slowly so that the ‘wounded soldier’ could keep pace with them.

What was more painful? By the time we got to the park, J.J. had flown his HARUGONTA back to Accra and the crowd was dispersing with varied tales on the lips of the people. You should listen to the interesting stories from the ‘early worms’ who arrived early enough to meet the MAGICIAN called J.J.  We cursed our stars and hurled a good dose of the curse at J.J. in absentia.

Because I ran away from pounding the fufu, I dreaded telling old girl about the wounds so I hid it under my trousers for weeks until they festered.

Old girl later discovered the wounds and applied the right remedy to heal them after a marathon of painful treatment sessions, but the scars refused to go, they are on my leg till date.

Oh J.J !!

#JJRawlings #JJ #Rawlings #RIPRAWLINGS #RIPJJRawlings #RawlingsGoesHome

Ny3 hii si n3 I pue ny3 toli p3.

Hahahahaaaa, I ml3 ny3  kpa yumu

NB: First published Wednesday 27th January 2021