It was 1962(AD if you must know)& what we still called summer holiday was upon us. This was a holiday that usually was about 3 months long and a carry on from the British school system. It was a holiday that soon got boring and left you wishing you were back in school. I guess this was how most students felt because apart from the academics ,Kings College, Lagos had so much to offer by way of sports and other extra-curricular activities like the Cadet unit, photographic society, geographical society etc, etc. Every school term featured at least 1 major sport like football, cricket, athletics, hockey along side the minor sports like squash, table tennis & lawn tennis. When these games were not officially organized, students organized themselves into little groups and played any game of there choice which they called cashu or cashew which I believe is derived from the word casual. These games were played with such zest and spirit that left students famished and looking forward to their evening meals. School meals were properly prepared, nourishing and filling. I recall my favourite meal was beans, fried plantain & fried fish(ewa, dodo & fried fish). I better get back to my story before I forget what it is all about.
So it was in the summer of 1962, the very day after the commencement of the holiday, Uncle Ashton(Piper) appeared at our home to take me on holiday. No one should misunderstand this; Uncle Ashton was not going away on holiday to the Caribbean which is where he came from. That would have been marvelous had he been going to some exotic Caribbean island on his annual leave and had decided to take me; at least that was my initial thought. The only person on holiday was I. I was going to do the circuit with Uncle Ashton. Junior magistrate Patrick Doyle.
Maybe I should say a bit about Uncle Ashton Piper. Uncle Ashton was not a blood uncle but a very close friend of my old man. He was then a circuit magistrate in the old Western region of Nigeria & later became a judge before he retired and went back home to the Caribbean. He was a big man with a very warm disposition. He was married to Prof. Kofi Duncan’s sister and I remember in the fifties we use to spend a lot of time at the Duncan’s home at Palm avenue, Mushin. I can assure you that it was a different Palm avenue; palm trees were actually growing there. After my father passed on in 1959, Uncle Ashton was one of his few friends that stuck around and comforted us in whatever way possible.
Back to my story: It was dinner time at Uncle Ashton’s and like every polished family of them days, you had to wash up before coming to table. So all 4 of us, Uncle, his wife Aunty Ama, & Augustus his son politely sat down to supper. I can not recall if his daughter Cecilia was old enough to seat at table then. 1st course was passed at least so I thought; mug of cocoa and two slices of buttered bread. That went down very well with me; what a great starter I thought but then I noticed that I had wolfed down my food and others were still eating. So I said to myself ‘keep calm, the 2nd course will soon follow’. Alas!! Uncle Ashton announced “you children run off to bed, I’ll just retire to my study’. I thought to myself if maybe I should retire to the kitchen. That night, I did not sleep well and neither did Uncle Ashton, Aunty Ama nor anybody else within a kilometre of my stomach rumbling and grumbling. Aunty Ama made me a quick fix egg omelette and peace returned. After that night, I had a different dinner from every one else. My dinner was anything from rice and corned beef stew, chips and egg or just plain ketchup, fried plantain(dodo) to leftovers from lunch. Importantly, my stomach was always full and I was happy to understudy Uncle Ashton on his circuit.
I got to learn pretty late that Uncle Ashton passed on in September of 2008. I regret not having bade him farewell then. He was a lovely man & one of the 1st gentlemen of that era that actually played with kids. A belated RIP to him.
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