The journey to Sare Bojo began. They were six; three sat on each side of the donkey cart. Mboud Sapo was on the lefthand side driving. He held a stick with his right hand which he occasionally whipped the donkeys with. The nice land breeze blew as the donkeys were running at a moderate speed.
They discussed about how to have girls answer them. Each of them was determined to have something to brag about the next morning and the days that would follow: to be accepted by a lady.
"We will soon reach given the way the donkeys are running," Mboud Sapo said while driving.
"The Alkalo did not make a mistake for buying this donkey. It is very fast and energetic" another one said.
"It's one of the fastest in the village," Pateh added.
"But wait, it’s like I'm hearing the sound of the music," Mboud Sapo said. "Just listen attentively," he suggested.
"Yes, I can hear it as well," Pateh confirmed.
"It's clearer now, everyone hears it now; even the deaf can hear it,” Chondi said jokingly.
“That Funana hit song is what I’m hearing deh! When a Sare Bojo girl starts dancing at that song, you can’t stop watching her,” Mboud Sapo said as he pulls the rope he held with his left hand to avoid a stone on the road.
“Especially when they hold their waists and shake their behind. Their waist beads literally match with the sound of the music,” Chondi added.
“This is the stream where the herdsmen bring their animals after grazing. We are just a stone’s throw from Sare Bojo. Let’s discuss about the place to hide our cart and tie our donkeys,” Pateh suggested.
“I have tied a bag of groundnut hay under the cart. Our donkeys will have a good meal before we will be set to go home,” Mboud Sapo said.
“That’s great, Mboud Sapo,’’ the boys said simultaneously.
“We can untie our donkey cart around the Well, it’s kinda far from the Bantaba where the musical jamboree is taking place, Pateh suggested.
“Yes we can do that,” Chondi agreed.
The idea was collectively agreed upon. The boys reached their destination. They untied the donkeys, gave them water and groundnut hay. It was already 1:00 O’clock am. It was time to go to the Bantaba, where the jamboree was taking place.
The Bantaba was very lively. The bright full moon shed its light. This wasn't advantageous for Mboud Sapo and his crew. They needed the dark for their mission. The small boys and girls were already exhausted and slept on the dry logs of the Bantaba. Each song was accompanied by a huge ovation and the Saré Bojo girls did what they were good at: “dimbugol.” Their legs were dusty, but that was the price they supposed to pay for the enjoyment.
Mboud Sapo and co reached the Bantaba but they formed a group outside the large majority. They had to read the situation first. They saw the Saré Bojo boys trying to find hide-outs with their girlfriends. One or two girls would leave their group to go and answer to their boyfriends.
"Now that we've arrived at the river, each one can fish for himself," Mboud Sapo said with determination.
"Mboud Sapo's confidence is something else. His trust for the spiritual recitation that his grandfather taught him is making the difference today " Pateh said. "But let's all meet at the Well when the program is about to finish," he added.
Mboud Sapo smiled and a wave of good feelings for having something that the majority don't have permeated his heart. He didn't say anything because he didn't want that discussion to continue. They might disturb him in seeking his assistance.
" Ok bassi ala," the boys said while each staring at the girls. They also didn't bother themselves to ask Mboud Sapo since they knew they wouldn't have anything from him.
They moved separately towards the direction of the crowd. Everyone in the crowd was not dancing; some were just standing and having good time with their friends. Others were seated on a log watching the dancers and observing the movements.
Mboud Sapo stood under a neem tree. It was a full moon, and everyone was clearly visible. But those who were under trees could seldom be seen and recognized. A girl, who just answered to a call of her boyfriend and was going back to the dancing arena, passed by Mboud Sapo. He observed her with expert eyes, but she wasn't the type he was looking for. While under the tree, he was amazed at how one lady was dancing. He stared at her and observed her every move. A boy within the ages of 12-15 met Mboud Sapo under the tree. He thought it was one of his village boys. He came near him and knew that it was an outsider. Mboud Sapo called him.
" Boy, mbada," he greeted.
"Jamtan," the boy answered.
"What's the name of that girl, the one wearing the white shirt?" He asked while pointing at the girl.
"Her name is Jarry."
" Ok. You can call her for me."
" Let me try and see if she will accept to come."
The boy left to call Jarry. Mboud Sapo was not very good at asking girls out. But his hopes were on the spiritual recitation. His mind started to replay the conversations he had with his grandfather when he was teaching him.
" You must not give this to anyone. If you do so, it'll not work for you."
“Don’t worry, Kaw, " he assured him.
"For this one, recite it when the girl is approaching you. It's just three sentences.
"I just have to recite it and start a conversation when she comes?" Mboud Sapo hastily asked.
"You better wait let me finish. Your hastiness will put you in trouble," he retorted. "When she comes, try to shake hands with her or just touch her right shoulder."
"But what about if she refuses to shake hands with me, and I don't have the opportunity to touch her right shoulder?" Mboud Sapo asked.
"It will not work."
Mboud was waiting and "it will not work " kept playing in the mind. He saw the boy talking to Jarry. He knew he was not good at asking girls out, so he started preparing his speech in his mind. A debate took place in his head.
' After the greetings, I should just go straight to the point since I’m having a recitation that will make sprits do the work.”
‘No, I should not go straight to the point. I should flatter her by telling her that she is cute, and her beauty made me travel from Petelbodi to Sare Bojo.’
‘All those words will prolong the discussion. Cutting it short is necessary so that you can do your things.’
As this debate was going on in his head, he saw the boy talking to the lady while pointing at where he stood. He saw them have a short conversation but he did not know what exactly they were talking about. There was hope as Jarry finally agreed to follow the boy to where Mboud Sapo was. A fresh dose of fear immediately weakened him. His legs could barely carry him. He started his recitation, but he realized he made a mistake and restarted. Things seemed unfortunate as he almost forgot it. This was all cause by “girlophobia”—the fear of asking girls out.
“Who is this?” Jarry asked.
“It’s me, Mboud Sapo. I am from Pe… Petel Bodi,” he stammered.
He attempted to shake hands with her but it was not possible. There was nearly 1metre between them. He came closer to her to touch her shoulder, but to no avail. Jarry continued to increase the space between them.
“What are you calling me for?” Jarry asked in a calm voice.
“I just like your ways.”
“Thank you, but I have a boyfriend.”
“But, but…….. I … choos … choose you out of all the girls here,” He stammered again.
Jarry was now uncomfortable as her friends knew that she left and she did not want to be perceived ‘cheap.’
“I am sorry, but it cannot be possible.” She said and turned her back. She left Mboud Sapo standing like a statue in a museum.
Mboud Sapo was disappointed by nobody but himself. He replayed the short conversation he had with Jarry. He blamed himself for being a coward. Why didn’t he just meet with her as she approached him? He could have shaken hands with her, but cowardice could not allow him to do that.
Chondi and co were also trying their chances but the local fishermen were in control of the river. They tried so hard but they virtually couldn’t make girls answer to their proposals. They loitered around hopelessly. They occasionally met and asked one another “l’état d’avancement.”
The Sare Bojo boys got the news that Mboud Sapo and his mates were around. Chandery, who was mad after hearing the news, mobilized his boys. They gathered beside the Well.
“The fools from Petel Bodi are here and they have no other mission but take our girls from us,” he said angrily.
“We must not entertain such. They will take our girls as time goes on,” Batch spoke.
“They must be taught a lesson today,’’ Chandery spoke like a warrior confronted by his enemies.
“That’s their donkey cart. Let’s wait for them here,” another one said.
“Let’s gather as much stones as possible,” Chandery suggested.
At the Bantaba, the Jamboree was at its tail end. The Dj had already announced that he was playing the last track. It was 4am. Mboud Sapo and co, as agreed, headed to the Well. They reached and stood beside their donkey cart. Each of them tired and regretted why they even disturbed themselves in the first place. But that was not the end of it. A stone from nowhere hit their donkey cart. They all became signaled that something abnormal was happening. Another stone passed by Mboud Sapo’s left ear. Nobody spoked to anybody. They took to their heels. The Sare Bojo boys chased them with stones and big sticks.
Mboud Sapo and his crew ran in separate directions. They left their donkeys and cart in Sare Bojo. It was highly not advisable for someone to pass by the faros at that hour of the night, but they entered the Faros as they ran to have a shortcut to Petel Bodi. They took different directions in the beginning, but they met at their village’s entry. They each took the pathway that led to their houses.
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