02/01/2026
Ini Mfo Kedi (Your Time is Coming)
Part 2
Happy New Year once again, ye all.
Remember from the first part of this series that my dad let me know—codedly—that every man needs to live responsibly and be ready for responsibility. That involves taking charge, taking care of his family, and others' life may bring his way.
I was in Primary 3B at Sacred Heart Private School, Ring Road, Ibadan—Akinyemi Way, Ring Road—when one of the Primary 3 teachers, Uncle Esan, introduced the Boys’ Scout. I wanted to join badly.
In fact, I joined before talking to my father about it. We were allowed to join briefings, drills, and parades initially in m***i until the grace period was coming to an end.
The whole Boy Scouts kit would cost just 10 naira. I was bewildered that afternoon when my dad told me he didn’t have 10 naira to spare. I threw a tantrum that afternoon; my dad noticed but ignored me.
Later that evening, he told me a story—the story of a bird that killed its mother.
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The bird was eager to celebrate its age-grade ceremony, a festival that would usher it into adulthood. So it went into the forest to gather waterleaf. It fetched so much that the pile was high, and it was satisfied with its labour and achievement.
But by the time the mother finished cooking, the waterleaf was not as much as the bird thought it would be. The bird was very disappointed and hounded and beat its mother to death, thinking it was sabotage.
The bird then gathered friends, and together they got much more waterleaf—ten times the size it gathered at first. Of course, this time it had help. The bird and its friends started cooking, but while they cooked, they noticed vapour rising from the pot. They wondered why.
When they opened the pot to check, the waterleaf that had filled the pot was barely halfway. An argument ensued, and a fight broke out. As they fought fiercely, wounding and killing some birds, an older bird flying by stopped to ask the reason for the commotion.
The bird thanked the elder and narrated the reason for the fight.
The elder was quiet for a while. He then asked if they noticed vapour from the pot while they cooked. They affirmed that they did.
He asked for the name of the vegetable, and they chorused, “Waterleaf.”
The elder then explained that the water in the vegetable was the vapour they all saw evaporating, not that anyone had stolen anything.
The bird was so sad that it flew high up a tall tree and started shouting, “How? How? How?” till this day. The bird my father was referring to here is the crow.
Look out for the crow—it’s still shouting “How, how, how” to this day.
My dad then reiterated his cliché, “ini mfo kedi,” meaning your time is coming. He mentioned how I felt he had not been a good provider, but I forgot that the children of the poor don’t attend that type of school. He scolded me for being blind to the privilege I had—being able to attend that school and enjoy such high-powered social capital.
He told me that when I became a father, I would look back and give him kudos. We had a tradition of buying one Ladybird book every Saturday. That weekend, he got me one on Sir Robert Baden Powell, the founder of The Boy Scouts.
I have been a father for about 28 years, and I am a grandfather by the grace of God. I have an adorable and quintessential granddaughter with attitude and steeze. I have paid bills nonstop for close to thirty years and counting, and I take care of four elderly family members aged between 73 and 85.
I now understand better. Today, I know better.
I have said several no’s to my children, especially my sons. I still said no to my first son two days ago.
Remember: ini mfo kedi—YOUR TIME IS COMING.
Are you prepared?
