Virgin Island

© 2012 by Dr. Michael Nicolas Wundah. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/08/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4678-9483-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4678-9482-1 (e)

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Contents

DEDICATION

FORWARD

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Chapter I 21st January 1932

Chapter II 28 th February 1933

Chapter III 14 th May 1941

Chapter IV 12 th September 1944

Chapter V 28 th December 1945

Chapter VI 5 th March 1947

Chapter VII 2 nd July 1949.

Chapter VIII 21st January 1952

Chapter IX 21st August 1953

Chapter X 1st June 1954

Chapter XI 4 th November 1956

Chapter XII 3 rd December 1957

Chapter XIII 2 nd February 1959

Chapter XIV 4 th October 1960

Chapter XV 27 th April 1961

About the Author

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to Rev. Sister Josephine Blake of the Cluny Sisters of the Sierra Leone Catholic Mission. Rev Sister Blake was a native of Bonthe. She was one of the first generation of indigenous African Catholic Nuns in Sub-Sahara Africa. She worked tirelessly throughout her life time for the advancement of the Catholic faith and its values by helping the poor and needy in her native land, Sierra Leone, Banjul in The Gambia, Republic of Guinea and elsewhere in the world. She was a kind family friend, we miss her immensely. May her soul rest in perfect peace and light perpetual shine upon her Amen!

Dr Michael Nicolas Wundah

20/3/12

FORWARD

Romantic genre is not most writer’s cup of tea. It requires special artistry, which sometimes can be daunting. It is highly sophisticated and often has huge demands on the emotion, especially for those prone to overhaul sentiments at the slightest sight of tears, pandemonium and perturb. Dr. Wundah’s genres are political satires, academic textbooks and biography. This is his first romantic novel but it appears as if he’d graduated ever since or for decades from this school. Virgin Island is well-handled. It is highly provocative for the imagination because of its peculiar nature—a book within a book. The story is well woven and the characters come alive in many strange ways because of the sophisticated and careful artistry and craftsmanship. The art of characterisation is profound, and that is because the author is not strange to characterisation considering his traditional genre—political satire, which makes the novel very interesting and educative. Woven in a bit of history, bit of politics and of course human nature all of which contribute to romantic flavour of the book, Virgin Island is a must-read as well as educative. I enjoyed reading it and hope other readers do!

Dr Thomas Hensley-Bright

Poetry Forum, London, UK

29/3/12

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I owe immense gratitude to a number of people for this book but I apologise that I can’t afford to mention all of them. All the same I want to thank everyone for their moral support. First, I want to thank my wife Mrs A.A.Sarr-Wundah, my two sons, Ebrima Tamba Wundah and Wahkar Nyuma Wundah for their moral support and ever growing love. Second, my gratitude goes to my colleagues and students at Lambeth College of Further Education, London UK. Some of my colleagues—Stephen Nicolas of the Art Department and Christiana of the ESOL Department both suggested that I should try my hands at romantic writing genre. I hope this one will meet their satisfactions. Finally, members of my Creative and Academic Writing Consortium deserve my thanks for their personal opinions throughout the writing of this novel.

Dr Michael Nicolas Wundah

20/3/12

Chapter I

21st January 1932

‘M y name is Glen Britain I’m your chief pilot and my co-pilot is called Nicolas Charles De Gaul. You are very much welcome on board. We are about to take off, so please fasten your seatbelts,’ he said as the Boeing 707 took off at the Lungi International Airport in Sierra Leone, West Africa. Fifteen minutes in the sky, the next announcement came, ‘you may now unfasten your seatbelts, and enjoy your flight.’

Thomas Cole unfastened his seatbelt and flicked open his briefcase and removed a bundle of newspapers. They were six editions in all, he’d purchased from one of the paperboys at the Water Street train station in down town Freetown. He buried his head in his favourite edition immediately, it was ‘‘Sierra Leone Herald’’

The paper was one of the popular local tabloids in the country during the British Colonial era. The edition carried a captivating, eye catching headline in bold capital letters beautifully embroiled in italics on the front page. It read: ‘‘INDEPENDENCE FOR ANGLOPHONE COLONIES LOOMS LARGE!’’

Thomas Cole shook his head in disbelief and said, ‘What a bizarre prospect. It is nothing other than a vaulting ambition because to grant independence to any of them is an achievement attained too soon and unrealistic, especially for the colonies of Sierra Leone and Bathurst Gambia. They are not ripe for independence and they can’t withstand the challenges that come with self-rule. There are other national as well as international problems to deal with. For instance the lingering tribal divisions and regional differences. Their ability to resolve these very difficult problems and unite all the various different tribes as one, independent nation will be the challenges that post colonial regimes have to wrestle with.’ He shook his head in disgust and continued with grin, ‘Then, of course in addition, there is this critical problem of finance. How will these new colonies meet the costs of self-rule? Not only that, there is equally the politics of the redistribution of their national wealth. Surely, I can foresee fire on the mountain very soon.’

He glanced across at the female passenger sitting next to him. She was already engrossed in a book.

Thomas Cole broke the ice and asked her politely, ‘If I may ask my dear, what is your name and what are you reading?’

As if she was shocked she replied, ‘Oh, I’m sorry sir, please excuse my bad manners, I was too absolved in this book to hear you. My name is Mamie Kpana. I am reading a novel.’

‘Where are you from? I hope not Freetown because all the women I have come across recently in Sierra Leone come from the country’s beautiful city Freetown.’

‘I am going to disappoint you because I am not a Freetonian.’

‘Well that is nice at least for a change. So where are you from then?’

‘I come from a small island known as Bonthe.’

Staring hungrily at her, he smiled and exclaimed, ‘Heavens!’

‘What does that mean, sir?’

‘Your beautiful face, oh, I mean, your beautiful head has been buried in that book since we took off.’

‘I still don’t understand what you mean sir.’

‘Of course, you surely know what I mean. All over planet earth, islanders are reputed as bookworms, which is the obvious explanation for their high aptitudes and glittering and productive intelligence quotient.’

‘Your comments are amazing sir, but you flatter me. She looked out of the window quickly and continued. ‘You’re pulling my legs, aren’t you?’

‘No, I speak from personal experience as an islander myself.’

‘There we go again, what a coincidence, two islanders sitting next to each other except that one is black and the other white,’ remarked Mamie Kpana.

A bit grimaced, he retorted. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to tell you that I’m not accustomed to commenting on the proverbial colour phenomenon subject that pertains to race or racial differences. Then in abroad smile he said, ‘I am proud to reveal that I come from England one of the most popular, powerful and historic islands in the world.’

‘Hello, I am delighted to sit next to an Englishman on a vessel manufactured by his country!’

‘I won’t comment on that statement either.’

‘Why? Don’t tell me you are offended by my comments, after all they are meant to be compliments not any form of derogatory remarks that create offence.’

Thomas Cole returned to the original topic which is about the book. ‘May we talk about the book please?’

Mamie Kpana was eager to clarify her remarks and make Thomas understand that they were made in good faith.

‘I am sorry but before I answer that question I must say that my remarks are simply meant to emphasise the fact that we on this side of the Atlantic Ocean are part and parcel of your grand history and political scheme.’

‘Unfortunately, young lady, I must confess that those remarks are being made to the wrong person.’

‘What do you mean exactly?’

‘Well don’t get me wrong but you are talking politics and I am neither a politician nor am I interested in politics.’

‘Then forgive my ignorance gentleman.’

‘That’s okay. So where is this beautiful islander heading to?’

‘I’m travelling to China via London sir. And you?’

‘What a coincidence! We’re on the same route, beautiful lady,’ he exclaimed.

Mamie returned to her book again and flicked the pages.

Thomas Cole wouldn’t stop, he continued with his prying questions.

‘What is the title of the book you are reading?’

‘Virgin Island.’ she replied with a beaming smile.

‘The title sounds fantastic. I am sure the inside is as appetising as the title eh!’

She nodded her head. ‘I cannot agree with you more but I must say that it’s worth exploring whether the content of the book is as worthy, sweet as the title or not.’

‘You sound philosophical.’

This time she omitted the official word ‘Sir’ and addressed him by his name. ‘Mr Thomas Cole I must say that you sound more philosophical than me, I’m a novice!’

‘Oh please don’t patronise me. Unlike you a beautiful and bookish lady, I am nothing other than an ordinary bloke who seeks solace in roaming the world.’

It was early days. Mamie Kpana didn’t want to engage in an intimate discussion with Thomas Cole, who she deemed a perfect stranger. Above all, they’d met on board a flight for the very first time so she reckoned to be cautious and thread carefully would be a sensible approach. She couldn’t afford to give away anything at that early stage.

She reserved her opinions regarding Thomas Cole’s extraordinary comments on her beauty and obsession with books. All she was actually interested in was have someone, a keen listener who would share the story of Virgin Island with her.

‘‘My mum always warned me that I should thread carefully when it comes to strangers. All the same, I must seize this opportunity and convince this perfect stranger to allow me read my book to him, no more no less.’’ she muttered

She looked out of the window and said, ‘No comments I reserve my opinion, sir.’

Mamie Kpana had read Virgin Island ten times over before she took this flight from Freetown to London. Her obsession with this particular novel was such that she hardly went anywhere without it. She was a voracious reader but of the hundreds or so books she’d read, Virgin Island left a huge, everlasting impression on her mind.

One thing that marked Mamie Kpana from other readers was that she had a peculiar reading habit. She was fond of sharing the stories of the books she read with other people. It could be anyone. That was the manner by which she derived satisfaction from reading books.

In addition, this peculiar reading habits of hers, was similar to a chronic drug addiction without which single cocktail, she wouldn’t enjoy a drop of sleep. No one to share her reading experience with, sleep is virtually murdered, she will sleep no more! For months she had read Virgin Island without the slightest chance of coming across a single keen listening ear until she met Thomas Cole on the Boeing 707 Jet. Hence, she was anxious to cast that ghost aside at all cost and lure Thomas Cole to lend her that keen ear and hear her read.

‘‘This is an opportunity to quench my thirst, it is a dream come true indeed. I must seize this opportunity and realise my dream, I can’t let it slip’’ she muttered at one stage as she reflected on the matter.

At some point of the conversation, she paused for some minutes and stared at Thomas Cole as if she was short of words. Thomas Cole also looked through the window as if he’d lost interest in the subject. Then after a while of silence, eventually they resumed the conversation again.

Thomas Cole commented. ‘It is a very beautiful view in the sky.’

‘You are lucky to sit by the window, but of course naturally, it is!’ she concurred.

‘We can swap positions if you like,’ he suggested.

‘Not at all that is not what I’m trying to suggest.’

As they stared at each other, she muttered: ‘‘My God, I can’t believe my luck. Now that I have right in front of me in this Boeing 707 Jet someone I can exploit, I need to take my chance. This is the perfect opportunity for me to lure him into sharing my passion—listen to me read fifteen chapters of one of the most interesting novels I have ever read in my life.’’

Up and up they soared into the great blue sky, weaving, rocking from side to side like a slow waltz with the wind. After almost an hour, the jet rose so fast, it was an amazing feeling and the horizon she saw out of the window was indescribably beautiful.

Thomas Cole posed another question in a calm and intimate voice.

‘Oh before I forget, what is the title of the novel?’

‘It is called Virgin Island sir.’

‘Sorry to bother you, young lady with too many questions in quick successions. Is it fiction or nonfiction?’

‘It’s alright, she said, smiled and then continued ‘well it is both, but it depends on how you make sense of the story.

‘I’m not sure. What do you make of it?’

She pondered for some minutes and said, ‘Having said that, in my view it is a fiction as all romantic novels have that flavour of a fiction.’

Desperate to bait Thomas Cole to accept her offer, she pressurised him immediately with a direct question. ‘Do you want me to read the story to you? I wouldn’t mind at all to do so.’

Virtually hypnotised by mixed emotions, he stared at her with blank expressions and surrendered. ‘Why not young lady, my attentive ears are all yours?’

‘Please allow me make few comments on the novel I’m about to read.’

‘It is all part of the game so go right ahead, beautiful lady.’

She coughed and commented, ‘The novel I’m about to read is rich in history, narrative, characterisation, plot, storylines and dialogues. It is voluminous and published in paperback. You would appreciate the fact that such a voluminous novel must have taken patience, dedication and time to put together.’

The jet was almost two hours in the sky when Mamie Kpana commenced chapter one. She read fluently, line after line, page after page of every paragraph with huge appetite as ever.

She continued with her general commentary on the book in order to get Thomas Kpana in the mood and cajole him. The entire novel revolves around two major characters. They are Teddy Bear, an Imperial District Commissioner on His Majesty’s Service on a beautiful, historic island named Virgin Island and the love and dream of his life Lucy.

Thomas Cole smiled. ‘That sounds amazing, read the full story my ears are all yours.’

The general commentary over, it was now time for Mamie Kpana to commence her reading session. She opened the book and started chapter one. It reads: DC Teddy Bear and his colleagues had lived a colourful rollercoaster lifestyle. Eventually, Teddy met his heart’s desire named Lucy. She was the beauty and Diva of the Island, the islanders dubbed the Queen of Virgin Island. Virgin Island paints a dramatic picture of an exciting story of a romantic world full of intrigues, deceits on a small, historic island in the Southern region of Sierra Leone. The main characters are a British Imperial District Commissioner and the love of his life, a young beauty of a pageant named Lucy.

This historic parcel of fertile land surrounded by water was transformed from its traditional and customary past to one highly influenced by British, western civilization and values. The irony is the inhabitants refer to themselves as islanders as if they are an isolated, lone parcel of island pitched on the fringes of the Imperial History of Sierra Leone.

Hence the perception was inaccurate. In retrospect, the islanders may have absolved western ways of life but equally, they made their own history. In fact all those that stepped on their shores when it was at the height of its glory were made to adapt, adjust and blend comfortably. Co-habitation was the magical and holistic concept that would cleverly and nicely spell out the rich and fascinating social history of the island.

The islanders are very liberal and receptive to change and socio-economic development as long as it is done for the common good.

Their local indigenous dialect is called Sherbro. The word Sherbro is more or less the Anglicised version or form. It is unique linguistically and sounds musical to the ear when spoken with dexterity, especially with nasal intonation by a well breed female. The indigenous form is ‘‘Shaybra’’ not Sherbro. Phonetically, it is pronounced on the basis of two syllables (shay and bra).

The Shabra dialect is rich and its linguistic texture contains some elements of one of the dialects found in the Fareast of the country known as the Kissi dialect. Fable or legend has it that at a period in history members of the Kissi ethnic group ventured into Virgin Island to purchase salt.

On arrival, the traders, sojourners were overwhelmed by the beauty and civility of the Shabra women and the general hospitality of the islanders to the extent that the Kissi sojourners or migrants made the island their permanent home. The resultant effect is that their original language—Kisi became a hybrid as it was submerged into the Shabra dialect, thereby producing mixtures of the two dialects with Shabra having the upper hand of the linguistic blends. Classic examples are the similarities of certain concepts shared by the two dialects. The Kisi and Shabra words for ‘‘Salt—is ‘‘Helllay’’ Mother is ‘‘Nday’’, Come is ‘Huun’’ Go is ‘‘Korh’’ and for Sit Down—the word is ‘‘Chall’’

The linguistically rich Shabra dialect has other ethnological influences. Like in most other regions in Sierra Leone, the Mende dialect or ethnic language has ever had its firm grip on the people of Virgin Island and other ethnic groups of the south and eastern regions of Sierra Leone. Mende is widely spoken, hence, with the exception of inhabitants of the hinterlands whose daily dialect is Shabra, Mende and of course, English and broken English or pigeon—Creole constitute the dominant languages in Virgin Island.

For the 150 years of British Colonial Rule, Virgin Island was one of the experimental grounds for the spread of western Christianity, education, and civilisation in Sierra Leone. Some of the best brains of Sierra Leone were born on this historic island.

Around its shores, there are the Atlantic Ocean, local rivers, tributaries and estuaries. The Atlantic Ocean presents gorgeous spectacles of satin-like sandy beaches, which lay fallow and under-used because tourism never made a serious mark on this part of Sierra Leone.

The local rivers, tributaries and estuaries are used throughout the year by fleets of fishermen. They use locally carved canoes, fishing boats, fishing nets and hooks as the tools of their vocation and means of their livelihood.

For thousands of years the inhabitants of this island and its neighbours have used subsistence fishing. It is the age old craft which most males are bound to learn in order to earn their living. They constitute the key skills taught in the non-formal sector across society as part of their heritage.

In addition to fishing, they do rice farming on a small scale. They grow acres of piassava which attracted many foreign entrepreneurs during the British Colonial Era. Unfortunately, today the industry is a fraction of that it once was.

The most popular drink on the island is a local beverage—palm wine, popularly known in the local parlance as ‘‘Duvue.’’ This beverage naturally grows in two flavors which quality nutrients serve the purpose of medicine, appetizer and sexual energizer, especially for young romantically adventurous men. In the early reaches of its potency ‘‘Kulakundae’’ popularly known in the local parlance is sweeter in taste than the general category or