Turn right at the 'Killing Tree!' - another market day...




  

Hazy morning travelling east from Dawakin Tofa towards the Kano - Katsina Road


 Walking into Dawakin from the school last Friday was to be a relaxing end to what had been a busy week. We had been travelling 3 - 4 hours per day back and forth to a science and technical school that seemed designed to harness the heat of the sun and point it directly to wherever I stood in class. Now was the weekend, a bit of food shopping and the weekend would be set up. The whole school goes into the town for Friday prayers at the mosque, so we were greeted by several multitudes of boys on their way back as we were going in the opposite direction. The market was a lot busier than the time before, but we thought that the locals would have got used to our white skins after nearly seven weeks, so this visit would be fine.
It can be quite disconcerting as I've mentioned before, when literally hundreds of people just stop what they are doing, mouths dropping, just because I've walked by! (Checked to make sure my trouser zip was indeed correct...)Anyhow we pass the millet, maize, rice, tomatoes, chillies, onions and oranges and start to take a closer look at some of the more unusual items. There were some amazing dried fish and some mirrors fashioned out of old CD's that had little battery holders for some lights that were also attached. These were selling like 'hot cakes'.
This brings me to the real reason we went to the market, as my colleague Annabelle had taken a fancy to some clay pots that hold hot coals in them. You oil the lid which has some small crater like troughs fashioned in it. After adding your dough, it acts like a little oven. I thought it might work for yorkshire puddings! 
Dawakin is famous for its pottery and as we walked along a path through the market towards the kilns, I noticed that we had an entourage of at least 30 children. We thought if we went into the narrow alley ways of the pottery kilns, the children would disappear. At this moment I was accosted yet again by a ranting old man who was saying I don't know what. This has happened before. A passing staff member from school interpretted that the man was demanding money from me as "all white people are rich!" In comparison to him I must be a billionaire. And like all billionaires, I pleaded poverty and told him the women have all my money... That sorted him out!
We knew we had to turn right at the 'Killing Tree', which is a place one wouldn't want to hang about for too long a time. In every market, each trade has its own 'quarter'. So fast food, meat on skewers etc was prepared by the killing tree as I call it. Underneath its branches, various animals were dispatched, skinned or plucked and cooked! The ground was red with blood stains and feathers flew in all directions. Being a complete coward in this respect... I love to see cows in fields and sheep in meadows and always look for the associate bargain in Tesco's or Sainsbury's on a Saturday. But you show me a poor goat or sheep being led bleating plaintively by the foot and I think being a vegetarian would be the best for all concerned. Having turned the corner, it was out of sight and nearly out of mind...

At the pottery, Annabelle negotiated 100N ( about 40p) for a 4 cake size bowl. The children grew in number to the point where it was uncomfortable and in the end, we beat a hasty retreat. If this is how Peter Andre gets his kicks, I'm glad I'm not a celebrity. The market could have made more money that day, but it seems the novelty of our skin colour has not worn off! No meat and two veg. for dinner either!