The Honey Trip (True Story).

It all started when our neighbor brought some honey back from his visit to the city. His son who happens to be my play buddy brought some in a small glass bottle. The taste on our young palates was more than we could resist; we wanted more of it. But sadly the honey was well locked away in my buddy's father's room. The father always pocketed the key to his room.

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My grandmother, God rest her kind soul, used to say I had a "sweet" tooth and blamed my mother for my voracious appetite and craving for every thing sweet and/or sugary. My mother tried all she could to wean me from too much sugar but all her efforts just did not yield any fruits as it even tended to intensify my quest for more sugary things.

So after finally discovering something that tasted sweeter than sugar or so it seemed at the time, I wanted more. But first I had to consult Emma whose full name is Emmanuel. Emma was about 12 years old but he appeared to be 9. He was very knowledgeable about a lot of things, or so it seemed as he could be found in his "library", a small house behind their house where he "studies" and performed all sorts of "experiments" on insects. Some of which involves various mutilation of the said insect he is "operating" on.

My buddy and I approached Emma one day and narrated our dilemma of how to get our hands on honey. He clapped his hand and laughed. You could see a twinkle in his eyes as it lit up in a mischievous way. We were intrigued to hear what he will say. Finally, he stopped and said "Green Run, this is easy, I can show guys how to get honey but before I proceed I want you guys to promise me I will get half a share of the proceeds"

We nodded our heads in affirmative before he could even finish talking. We were hooked on honey and at the moment I was even willing to give him my new wristwatch which he had been asking to borrow. So this was easy. He entered into the detail of how to get honey. He explained all we need to do is to get a bee hive. That getting the honey is just as easy as taking a ripe pear out of the hands of a 3-year-old.

The next three days after school was spent exploring the bushes near our farm, looking for the trace of a beehive. Meanwhile, our parents never knew what we were up to as we always gave the excuse of studying in each other houses! So after about a week of exploring the bush effortlessly when we were almost giving up hope of ever seeing a beehive, I sighted one. It was on the branch of a big tree. The tree appeared to be dying but still stood. It was deep inside the forest.

We had to trace our way back home all elated to give Emma the good news. Emma received the news in a nonchalant fashion as if it was easy to see one. He said okay and explained to us that getting honey is easy that we will need three things. These include charcoal, kerosene, and matches. We asked what it is for, he refused to tell us. That is one thing that we did not really like about him, he liked to always have this air of mystery around him. He always liked to say this, A hunter does not reveal every thing he sees in his hunting adventures. We had never seen him hunt so this always left us more confused. But he was a boy who knew how to get things done. So we all had to comply and get him the three things.

Two days later at around 6.20PM Emma appeared at our house and threw some pebbles on my window near where my bed was, which was our coded way of alerting me to come out without my parent's knowledge. I did, and there he was wearing an oversized rain boot and grinning from ear to ear. He told me that today is the day we go for the honey hunt.

I was surprised at the timing, but he explained that this was the best for honey hunting. That the bees do not see at night and hence cannot sting us. Armed with kerosene, which will be used to set the hive on fire and kill the bees. Charcoal was to make us invisible to the bees as we needed it to rub on our faces and any exposed part. With my buddy in tow, Emma and I set out for the forest.

After missing the route twice under the bright moonlight we finally located the tree. Emma told us to gather dry twigs and grass which he deftly tied into a bunch around a longer stick of about six feet. This he plans to pour kerosene on and light it up and use it to kill or make the bees go away from its hive so we can take the hive.

Emma, being a better climber than any of us offered to climb the tree. He tied the kerosene bottle around his small waist and pocketed the matches. When he climbed up the tree a little we handed him the locally made bush-torch.

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He nimbly climbed the tree and when he approached where the hive was, he lighted the torch. The next we heard was the buzz of the bees and then a sharp sound, twang! And Emma was on the ground! He landed on a soft patch of earth and all we could hear was his grunts. We rushed to where he was fearing the worst. But miraculously he was not wounded by the fall much.

We had to carry him home that night. We sneaked out before his parents could see us. The next day his face was all swollen. His lips twice its size giving him a somewhat funny look. I tried so much to stifle the uncontrollable urge to laugh when I saw it.
It turned out that the bees were not as "blind" at night as Emma made us believe. They had stung him which made him lose his grip. The landing on soft earth plus the high amount of grass where he landed saved him.

Emma never revealed to the parents what transpired that night. That was the end of our honey seeking, we had to be content with sugar.

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Thanks to you for reading this far, special thanks to @onequality, @gbenga, @ehiboss, @ogoowinner, @giantbear plus others too numerous to mention here. You all inspire me.

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