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The Apprentice 1
Ogunmola survived the ordeal of his apprenticeship thanks to
his having a past. A past that traced back to Oba. Oba, his great
grandfather. Oba, the illustrious. The wise ruler.
Ogunmola had the choice of going to school, but he would
not. He had witnessed the fate of his grandfather and this had
decided his position once and for all.
He was a mere child at the time. His grandfather was at the
height of his glorious rule. Life was moving on meaningfully.
Just as it had during the reign of the illustrious Oba, his father.
He enjoyed the love and respect of his subjects. Peace and
quiet dominated. Contentedness and accord prevailed...
Then suddenly they came. Uninvited. As if that was not
enough, they said his grandfather did not know how to rule.
His grandfather! The offspring of the illustrious Oba! One
whose ability to rule in the times of poverty and riches,
sedition and peace, pestilence and health had become a
legend!
And that was not all. Life, they claimed, was being led not
altogether the way it should. Everything had to be overhauled.
A new beginning was necessary...
And indeed they immediately started to effect the changes.
With inhuman speed and haste. Ogunmola, a mere child, saw
it all. He was confused by it. But he had no difficulty in
understanding the cause of the premature death of his grand-
father. He was horrified to realise that his father could not
become king after his grandfather. No one would continue the
rule of Oba, his illustrious great grandfather! He himself could
have no pretentions ....
In spite of this they wanted him to go to school! To` put his
stamp on those changes and proclaim them God-sent and just!
Him, Ogunmola, the great grandchild of Oba, the wise ruler! Never. Never, never, never. His royal blood revolted vehemently against the suggestion to succumb to an inglorious
domination, to the worship of a false god. And he was a mere
child.
But he had to do something. He had been born. What did it
matter that the times were like this? Was that not the purpose
of his birth? To make meaning of a life like this?
Ogunmola took up the challenge. He decided to become a
master blacksmith. His years of apprenticeship began. Life
was going to be meaningful from now on. So he thought.
He was mistaken. It was only then that his troubles actually
began. It was hardly a year since he had been with Omotaiye,
his master, when the latter called him aside:
'Ogunmola', he began in his gentle, humane voice, 'you
know I love you like a son, and that I have the highest respect
for you as an apprentice. I believe you will make my name
great yet. And that is why I'm grieved at what I see in your
works lately.'
Ogunmola loved and respected his master. So it was with
deep concern he heard these words. Emotions choked his
voice as he said:
'May I know what grieves you, master? If it is within my
power I will do everything to alleviate it.'
'When I look at the hoes, cutlasses, knives and other implements you forge,' the master continued, 'they show no definite character, they are amorphous. However minutely I
scrutinise them, they fail to reflect the lessons I have been at
pains to teach you. I have repeatedly said that your aim should
be to forge a hoe that is both practical and cheap. What's the
use of a beautiful hoe if everybody, everybody cannot afford it?
As things are going now, people will soon begin to say that
you are the apprentice of Omotola.' Thus concluded the
master in a tone of the deepest regret.
For Omotaiye to say that the work of his apprentice resembled that from Omotola's workshop was the most serious
criticism that Omotaiye could ever make against anyone that
studied under him. Ogunmola knew this and was troubled.
He agreed essentially with his master, but he felt within
himself the existence of something. Something exclusively his
own which he could bring to the forging of a hoe that would
To be continued |
