I already know next week we’ll be out of town, so I told my friends, those who care to listen to my dad’s plan of going on a vacation to our hometown (village).
A lot of Africans have this negative perception about things like this, but the thought of seeing my grandpa and grandma have negated that in me.

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We arrived in our village and were well received by everyone. Village is where you get to show your toys to your 16th century age mates and they won’t stop to marvel at it. A shirt of Spiderman, Ironman and all the comic marvel always amazes them. In addition to that, i am smarter than they are while they are of cos “cunnier” than I am. I can’t tell you the difference between been smart and cunny, don't worry, you are just about to find out.

Early next morning after I woke up, I met my grandpa and greeted him while bowing my body a little only to receive a loud knock on my head. The old man pointed his finger at the floor with a stern look and right there that knock kind of sent the right signal and without thinking twice, I prostrated right away, flat on the floor like a door mat and greeted him again. This made him pleased now and he finally replied me in a comely way.

I heard from dad that the work for today is going to be on Grandpa's farm. I heard them discussing last night why Grandpa couldn't practice mechanized farming since he owns a large acre of land. Grandpa lamented on non-availability of farm machinery in this part of the world and dad told him he saw something in the news paper about the disbursement of some farm implement to his hometown. Grandpa has been around long enough to know that it is all about political propaganda and wouldn't believe any of that.

The time arrived and we all boarded Dad's car enroute the farm but unfortunately the road wasnt completely accessible and so we got to a point where we were all forced to highlight and walk the remaining distance to the farm. This I didn't find any funny as I kept murmuring and grumbling. Suddenly out of nowhere, a stone hit me on my back and I cried out in pain.

Grandpa hearing my cry wouldn't sympathize with but instead made a mockery of my city life.

“You this city children", he gnarled, every small thing you cry out, don’t let me hear any sound from you again”

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I straightened up as a man and carried on. Then again was another stone hitting me on my back, this hurt more than the previous one and I couldnt contain it again as cried out louder. Grandpa looked back in fury at me, I was expecting a much stronger word from him, but instead he laughed at me.

“City boy, your friends are the one making a catapult game on you”

Grandma laughed at me this time, I tried to find the funny part in the act but couldn’t, the spot has turned red for Christ sake.

We got to the farm and started working immediately as there was so much to do. Suddenly, I saw this crawling creature moving towards me. Without a second thought, I ran close to my grandma shouting

“ Snake! Snake! ”

Grandma was there to the rescue as she moved closer to kill to snake, only to pause on seeing the creature and burst into a hysterical laughter.
“It’s not a snake”

what!, I exclaimed. Well I have never seen a snake before so don't blame me for not knowing it wasn't a snake.
It was when I got back home I got to know it was my village friends who were pranking me.

The subsequent days were horrible for me as these village friends of mine betrayed my trust one after the other. From making me dip my hands in a piglet poo and leaving it for a day because I told them I had a secret crush in the city whom I couldn’t walk up to to profess my love. It took the intervention of my grandma again to save me out of this mess. I can see them at a corner laughing at me hysterically. I was ashamed of myself.

Subsequent days was prank after prank, shame after shame, from drinking with a mad man to show who is the strongest while they weren’t drinking anything to singing in their dialect of my stupidity while I was made to say “yes and amen” to it all, what more can I say, all these was in a bid to blend in.

Finally the day came for us to leave the village as vacation was over and as if all they did didn’t get to me, I organized a farewell party for them all and make them drink of my urine, all of them. It was while they were bidding me farewell I made it known to them what they drank last night. Yeah, they drank my urine and I called it coffee. People in the village always yearn for coffee. it’s known as a drink for the rich and educated in the city. They were angry, but this time my dad was right beside me. He was actually from the beginning, watching me, he believed it is part of life to change environment.

The above is my entry into @ntowl contest of 5sbi shares on Vacation writing challenge

The above story is inspired by true events