The Passage Rites

Growing from infanthood to childhood was something we all looked forward to. It included being allowed by our parents to go and fetch water from the nearby ‘Nworie’ river. Fetching water was part of the fun trips in the Egesimba’s Estate, another which we indulged in was going to throw away the house- hold waste at the erosion ditch that served as refuse dump site for the neighbourhood. (Story for another day). Being old enough to go to the stream was a beginner stage, actually getting to carry water with a bucket was another stage-the intermediary stage because beginners as a norm carried  two and a half (2_1/2 ) litres jerry can. Let the initiation begin. The advanced stage consists of children and teenagers who carried all sorts of buckets ranging from plastics to metal and even cooking pots, these containers came in varying sizes. All these served as appetizers. The main goal was in the actual carrying of the containers.  

Balancing the bucket was the main ritual in the rite of passage ceremonies. To enter into the big boys/girls league, you have to be able to carry your bucket on your head with your hands swaying proudly by your sides. Before being able to carry your bucket, you will have to learn how to fold your rag as a comfortable rest for your container. ‘Igwo aju’ as it is called in the local parlance looked easy to any onlooker but it is a skill to be learnt not inherited. You learn from those already in the game. When one has perfectly mastered the ‘Igwo aju’ act, he/she moved to the balancing of bucket technique, no bucket can balance comfortably without its rest, they were like the male and female adaptors.

This ritual involves lots and lots of practice, like every other practical, samples had to be used and some dumped, the experiments have to be gone over till a perfect result was gotten, just like trying to neutralizing and acid , you keep adding the base and testing with your ‘pH-meter’ till the desired pH is attained. In the case of the ritual, you have to keep trying and trying, no matter how many times we failed, we came out more determined to be masters over our buckets of water. Gosh! Who knows how many buckets we broke just to join the trend? How many buckets were sacrificed just for the desires of our hearts, we kept lusting for our goal, the scolds from our parents couldn’t deter the single- minded children. We had the elephant grasses to tie, and when all else failed, we stiffened our hearts and bodies. The passion for the cliques burnt so hot and bright, couldn’t be quenched till there was nothing to consume. Then and only then can we be stopped- The Lords. Yes, we deserved the title, our goals have been conquered, fetching water was no more a task, carrying our buckets bore no more fear, our parents got angry no more cos the water kept coming without delay.

No dream is ever actualized without a sacrifice, there’s always a price to pay, there are always buckets to be broken, and it doesn’t matter how many you break, just pick up all its pieces and take home, come out again to try harder and if possible, break more buckets. The end they say- justifies the means. There really shouldn’t be an end to our goals, I think we should remain insatiable, always longing for more, always doing more- like the biblical 70 x 7 times. When your bucket of water seats comfortably on your head, and your arms rest by your sides, your face beams with smiles. You become the envy of your counterparts and the hero of the upcoming, and most importantly, you become the future you dreamt about.

BREAKING MY BUCKETS……..