The Weekend Market

It was Friday, a day I would always looked forward to. It meant that I would have to gather jungle products to be sold at the weekend market. The weekend market was located 3miles away from my farm house. I inherited the farm from my parents. Being the only child, I was left alone to care for the farm after both parents passed away.

Farms those years only cater for family needs. What we could find in a farm would be padi/rice, yam, sweet potatoes, beans, tapioca and fruits like bananas. There were no known cash crops. Farms far from rivers and streams would have ponds. So bathing, washing and drinking water all came from the ponds.

My farm was by the river. So I do not have any pond. River was also my source of food. Fish was easy those days, now I could only reminisced the good old days when life was simple and the only thing to look forward to was good harvest.

Today, I planned to go fishing. Hopefully a good catch will bring me some income. The weekend market was located about 3 miles away. It wasn't anything like weekend market nowadays. It's a place people gathered to update themselves regarding recent happenings. Those days there wasn't any form of formal communication media, no phones, no radios and no newspapers. News went round from mouth to mouth. It's actually a small settlement of gold prospectors.

I planted baited hooks along the river bank. In shady spot under a big tree I sat giving time to the fish to venture near my hooks. I just turned 17. My mom passed away when I was 12, then my dad passed away when I was 14. Immediately I left school. Back at the farm I continued what my father started. I was assisted by an uncle for the start. As he had to toil for his family, I had to be on my own.

Having caught only 3 fish, I took 2 small ones home for dinner. I kept the big cat fish alive in a cage kept in the river. I wanted it alive till tomorrow so that I have a fresh fish for sale. Refrigerator was something unheard of. I was quite thrilled at the prospect of making some money. Perhaps I could sell it for $1, if lucky maybe $2. With $2, I could buy sugar, salt, coffee powder, matches and perhaps a roll of thread and a couple of needles.

I was up early that morning. Looking forward to the weekend market with a purpose. By 6 am I was already on my way, I didn't need to rush as the market was just 3 miles away . I should arrived there by 7am considering my pace. The fish was secured by a string through it's gills.

The dirt road was narrow with overgrown weeds on either side. The morning sun had just risen appearing just above the distant mountains. I had just covered a 15 minutes journey when I saw crowds of people congregating at what looked liked a local market. So I took to the path leading to the crowd. I might as well make a quick sale here I thought to myself. I mingled with the people there but soon realized that no one paid me any attention at all. Everybody was talking either in pairs or in a small crowd.

I called out, "cat fish for sale". As if being interrupted, the chattering noise stopped. There was a total silence as every one turn their focus on me. First came a man. He walked over to me . Fingered my cat fish, turning it from side to side then left. Then one after another, they came. Some fingered my fish while some didn't. No one asked nor uttered any thing. Surprisingly till now there was total silence. Nobody seemed to talk anymore.

They came and went as if taking turns to see my fish. Suddenly it became very windy. As I looked up, I saw dark clouds gathered and darkened the morning skies. I thought i'd better get going lest be caught in the storm. I picked up my fish and hurried to the path leading to the dirt road. After a couple of steps, I looked back behind me, only then did I realized that everyone there were dressed in either while or creamy white clothes. The lanterns that hung on what looked like rows of village shops were also white. Everything was white or creamy white. Everyone there were watching me in silence. I quickened my pace with my heart pounding hard against my chest. Only then the eerie spine tingling feeling got the better of me.

When I reached the dirt road, I looked back behind me once more. There wasn't any clearing there, no settlements, no village shops, no lanterns and no one there. Instead, there were tall grass and bover grown weeds everywhere. I hurried on heading to the weekend market. By the time I reached there, it was almost noon.

Most farmers had left and headed home. A few of them were still around engrossed in their conversations. A familiar voice called out to me. It was my uncle. How relieved I was. I related my misadventures to him and his circle of friends. Then they all took a look at my cat fish, the fish bore fingernail marks all over. I couldn't sell the fish in that condition anymore. After I gave a more detailed account of the place, it was made known to me that it was an old cemetery site.