A taste of palm wine...

In my village, I had a serene type of life. Always on natural levels. I run across tiny track roads picking fruits and sticks to play with too. There was this one job that I found interesting which is palm wine tapping, especially standing and watching the workers do it. it was strange having to climb a tall tree just to get a drink. I wondered what the drink tastes like, but I was only 10.

Mother warned me severally not to stand akimbo staring upward at the tappers so I wouldn't get injured if mistakenly any of their tools fell off from their hands. I didn't care, for it was adventurous and had even planned of climbing a tree just like them one day. 

“Mother, have you tasted a palm wine before?"    

   

I asked her one early morning as she was cooking. 

“Yes child, why do you ask”

“I would love to have a taste! Its procedure of harvest is so beautiful that I dream of drinking it one day”

"It's not a drink meant for kids, doesn't accept to drink it at your age if offered’'

My mother's answer was weird, I mean the drink is from a tree that was planted, it is more like fruits but in a water form. Why would my mother sound so weird that it's a killer drink? I reserved the rest of my comments and questions to avoid being thrown out of the kitchen because of my nuisance. 

I didn't care if the latter was going to be bad like my mother said, I just wanted to have a taste. 

Although my curiosity about things had dragged me into so many problems, like when I wanted to find out why the clay pots always chill water. I broke my mother's favourite pot which gave me the worst beating of my life I thought I would die. 

But anyway, that wouldn't stop me from wanting to know more about things. I joggled on the bush paths going on a message sent by my mother. She gave me money to pay for the kerosene we bought from Mama Nlere’s store two days ago. I gave her the money but then got attracted by the white substance in the glass cups on the table of the bar beside the shop. The men seated around the table drank from the cups and the way they licked their mouths after each gulp made my mouth water for at least a sip. 

“Hello, young boy, why the long stare? Do you want to have a taste? "

I was willing to say yes but my mother's face kept tying my tongue. But at last, I said yes and rushed over to the table. The man gave me a tiny glass of palm wine and that was it. 

I was meant to stand up and leave after I had drank the entire substance from the glass which was sweeter than anything that I'd tasted in my entire life. But then, my legs got very heavy. I couldn't move my legs! 

I sat there pretending as though I was okay, although my eyes were already trying to shut down. I didn't know what was wrong with me, I wanted to cry but no tears came forth. It was already dawn I still sat there thinking of how to go home. 

Alas! I saw my mother marching forward to me after she looked for me at Mama Nlere’s store. She raised her hand to give me a heavy slap on my face when I protested loudly, 

“I can't feel my legs mother! I THINK IM CRIPPLED NOW! "

At that moment, I was able to cry, the tears flowed freely and I thank God for the tears...