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The Two Farmers

Bolanle and Jide were neighboring farmers who hated each other. The cause of their feud was obscure, some inherited dispute from their grandparents. Both of them cultivated the plumpest, juiciest tomatoes in their village, making them the most famous competitors in their community.

A white rose hedge stood as a demarcation between their homes and their farms. A white line cutting across a sea of red, it was a respected boundary between the feuding farmers. Because the flower bush was short, about waist-length, they often accused the other of disrespecting the boundary and crossing over.

Bolanle was inspecting her vibrant tomatoes one lovely morning. They stood eight feet tall, consisting of endless rows that shrouded the proud farmer, and looked as rich as rubies. Her fingers were caressing the succulent fruit when Jide came charging towards her.

“You evil woman!” he spat whilst pointing an accusatory finger.

A cutlass was planted on the ground beside Bolanle. She always had it in case of any issues with Jide. She yanked it out of the ground. “Go back to your wretched farm behind the hedge,” she said, pointing the machete at him.

“To hell with you!” Jide’s eyes raged as red as the tomatoes around him. “How dare you destroy my tomatoes?”

“Why would I ever touch your vile tomatoes?”

“Liar! I know it was you.”

Indeed, a small section of Jide’s lively farm had been decimated. The towering crops lay broken, bleeding and scattered on the earth, as if they had been attacked. Staring at them, Bolanle wondered who could’ve done it.

“It seems you have many enemies,” she said.

“I only have one,” Jide glanced at her.

“You better watch your back,” Bolanle warned, before turning to leave.

Enraged, Jide grabbed her shoulder to stop her from leaving. Bolanle swung her cutlass at his face but paused the blade right in front of his eyes.

“I did not touch your tomatoes,” she said. “Do not speak to me about this ever again.”

Because Bolanle was a mistrustful woman, and because she feared her farm suffering the same fate as Jide’s, she kept watch that night. With her cutlass on her lap, and her lantern on the ground, she sat on a wooden chair in the middle of her farm, waiting. The infinite stars above twinkled softly, hypnotizing the world below. Nights like this often reminded Bolanle of her grandmother. How they would lounge in the breezy darkness of the night, gazing at the heavens and enjoying its glorious shimmer. The sound of movement snapped her out of her reverie.

“Jide…” She cursed under her breath.

Creeping slowly with her cutlass and lantern, she weaved towards the sound. On reaching the spot, a gasp escaped her throat. Her precious tomatoes had been smashed and violated, mirroring the ugliness of a crime scene.

“JIDE!!!” She bellowed.

Amid his dainty, slender crops, Jide sharpened his cutlass on a whetstone. His lantern focused golden light on the well tilled ground, and on his angry face as he worked. The night swept a delicate breeze over his land, teasing his tomatoes into a soft dance. Normally, he would’ve stretched his legs and relished the night’s sweet atmosphere with a gourd of palm wine by his side. But rage and determination roared through him.

When his grandfather was alive, no harm ever befell the farm. No one dared to vandalize their property. The same was the case for his mother when she presided over the plantation. Jide made up his mind to skin the assailant of his tomatoes, alive.

The rumble of running footsteps darting in his direction made him pause his blade against the whetstone. He jumped to his feet with his weapon, and found Bolanle, with thunder on her face, standing a few feet from him.

“You returned to resume your crime,” said Jide. “Witch!”

“I told you I didn’t-”

A rough noise from far off interrupted Bolanle. Something about the sound, a wildness to the movements, disturbed the wind and the tranquil of the otherwise peaceful night. They were not alone.

“There,” Bolanle pointed with her cutlass. “Someone is there.”

Jide wanted to deal with Bolanle, but he couldn’t ignore whoever had the guts to trespass his land. The two farmers meandered through the tomato plants towards the person.

“If this person is your partner in crime, it will spell doom for you both,” Jide said, eyeing Bolanle.

On getting there their faces were masks of horror. A creature, a beast even, almost as tall as the plants that crowded the farm, crouched on the ground, eating a handful of tomatoes. It swiftly turned and faced them.

Its face looked like that of a bat, with its large ears, sharp eyes and razor teeth. It however possessed no wings. The tomatoes that smeared its mouth resembled blood. The sight sent shivers down their spines. The beast’s crimson eyes narrowed on the two farmers, as if realizing that it had found better food.

Its clawed hands dropped the tomatoes, and slowly, it rose on its strong legs, towering over them and casting a grotesque shadow that swallowed them. The creature bellowed, forcing Jide and Bolanle to shield their ears. One heavy clawed foot after the other, the monster trudged towards them.

In a flash, the feuding farmers dashed off. They ran so fast the tall tomatoes slapped their faces. The white rose bush came into view, and they both flew over it into Bolanle’s territory. After sprinting for a while, they stopped to catch their breaths.

“What was that? What was that? WHAT WAS THAT?” repeated Bolanle. She shook like a leaf in a storm.

Jide’s eyes were so wide they could’ve ripped. “I…I have never seen su-such before.”

“We have to alert the village.”

Jide nodded. “Let’s go-”

The creature broke out of the nearby plants with its mouth open. The brawl that followed was chaotic. With their lanterns in one hand, and their cutlasses in the other, their fight with the beast appeared in flashes of talons, fangs, cutlasses and blood.

When the monster swung its claws at Bolanle’s shoulder, Jide slashed it in its hairy back. When it threw Jide to the ground and bit his arm, Bolanle stabbed one of its red eyes. None of their blade attacks seemed to put the monster down, if anything, it only angered it.

It was when Bolanle’s lantern broke on the earth, releasing a gust of yellow flames, that the beast paused. It stared at the growing fire with a terror that looked odd on its vicious face. Bolanle’s eyes quickly darted at Jide, and he hurled his lantern at the beast. The monster burst into a flurry of golden blaze.

Screaming and thrashing about, it ran through Bolanle’s forest. Its cries echoed over the land, and its running body left a trail of fire that burned the tomatoes. Despite their injuries, Jide and Bolanle chased after the beast, the line of fire leading them straight to it.

The fire trail led them past the burning rose bush into Jide’s farm. They found the creature flailing around as the blazing element consumed it. Simultaneously, the two farmers stabbed, sliced and slashed the monster. Every anger, every rage they held for each other, seethed into the cutlasses that lacerated the beast. The fire that burned both of their farms was as wild as the fury that roared in their hearts.

The creature died, and an hour later, the wildfire ceased on both their lands. Smoke wafted into the air as Bolanle and Jide sat by the partially destroyed rose hedge. They drank palm wine in peaceful silence, and watched the sun ascend into the sky.

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