I sat outside my house on a fateful evening in November last year. I noticed the fickle clouds playing the game of hide and seek with the sun, revealing it in one moment and then hiding it the next. It soon resulted in a murky clouds hanging low in the sky and obscuring the sun.
"Is this a sign of rain?" I asked myself.
"No, it can't be in November."
It never happened to my knowledge. On a very good year that increase in rainfall is recorded, you would have it for a few times in September. October is out of it, not to talk of November.
I waved the consequence of the dark clouds aside while I concentrated on a game that I was playing on my phone.
Within a few minutes, the rain approached from the east like bullets falling from the sky. I couldn't wait to wear my sandals. I had them in one hand and my plastic chair that I was sitting on on the other as I raced to my door. The rain took over the atmosphere, falling as if a dam was overflowing from heaven.
Everyone in the neighborhood was dumbstruck at the development.
This happened on Friday. The following day, which was Saturday, I decided not to go to the farm as I usually do on Saturdays. The road would be too wet and the ground muddy. I postponed my next visit to the farm till Monday.
On Sunday evening, my neighbor on the farm called me to brief me of the situation.
"You need to come and harvest your crops before the seeds start germinating. This rain has wreaked havoc to our farms," he told me on the phone.
The following morning, I went to the farm very early to see things by myself.
On my arrival, the damage caused by the rain ached my heart and kept my mouth wide open.
Bala had harvested his corn, removed the kernels from the cob and spread them in an open space to get dried. This had been the popular method by corn farmers for decades. His farm has a sloppy landscape. When the rain came with its high intensity, the resulting flood washed away more than 50% of the grains.
I saw another farmer that grew bambara nuts (Vigna subterranea), the same crop that I grew, hissing repeatedly as he tilled the ground to get the nuts out.
"My brother, the nuts are changing colors with some germinating already," he lamented to me as I moved closer to him.
I took a closer look at the nuts.
The damages were obvious. Once bambara nuts get dried, they can stay in the ground for as long as a farmer wishes. However, it must be harvested before the return of another rainy season. The nuts had dried since October and farmers were harvesting them at their convenience. No one saw the rain coming. The rain aided the dried nuts to start germinating. Every farmer in the area was caught off guard.
I was lucky because I had harvested about 85% of my farm. I picked my hoe and started digging mine to salvage whatever I could. My mind wasn't in what I was doing. I was thinking of Bala, who had just lost millions of Naira to the unexpected rain. I dropped my hoe and returned to his farm to further commiserate with him. I had the knowledge of the money he invested in the farm. Part of the money was a loan with interest.
"I am still in shock from this strange rain. Is God punishing us with this?" I lamented as I walked to meet him.
"Don't be too shocked. God is not punishing us. We are the ones punishing ourselves."
"What do you mean?" I asked for further clarification. I wondered how the strange rain could be blamed on human beings.
"This is the effect of the much talked about climate change. We have been hurting the planet for too long and it has decided to retaliate. It is not just about rain, have you noticed the increasing intensity of the sun in recent years? The planet is becoming warmer every year due to our activities.
"This is enough warning for us to stop the destruction of the planet through our activities. We need to take care of the planet in order for the planet to reciprocate by taking care of us."
I belonged to the category of people that, though they believe in the reality of climate change, they felt that the issue wasn't as serious as the advocates were presenting it to be.
"You are right," I responded to him. "If I ever had any doubt before now, it has been cleared. Indeed global warming is a problem.
"Your level of strength is enviable. With the level of loss and the loan that you will be paying, how will you handle this?"
"The way forward is not by allowing oneself to be overwhelmed with sadness. The next thing is to see if I can salvage anything out of the remaining kernels. We learn from every adversity that befalls a man," he tapped me on my shoulder and laughed softly.
"I will bring boys to come and transport the remaining kernels to my house for proper drying tomorrow. We will move on from there."
I was dumbfounded with the level of strength displayed by Bala. I'd expected him to be devastated but it was like water off the duck's back.
"Let's talk of solutions and future possibilities instead of getting stuck with our losses," he concluded.
True to his words, he faced the loss and navigated his way out unscathed.
This experience of mine changed my perspective totally about climate change. Hurting the planet is an action with repercussions. I became an advocate of climate change.
I take it as a major problem that requires the input of everyone to stop the damage.