I BURIED IT.

My name is Olapo. Literally translated, it means 'many gifts'. You must have heard of me at one point or the other. But I must say, my story was highly exaggerated. I was portrayed in the end to be the bad guy. I was made to be seen as the indolent one. But no one has ever thought to hear my side of the story. Well, I want to tell it today.

There were three of us and we were servants. Master was very kind to us, I must admit. He never made us feel like we were servants. He treated us as though we were sons. He even says a lot of times that he adopted us as his own children. We were entitled to everything the sons were entitled to. But they tell you slaves will never refuse to think like slaves. Pardon me but I beg to differ. A man of Master's status cares about no one but himself. There had to be a reason for him treating us like children. He picked the three of us up from the gutters and raised us as his own. But it cannot be his own goodwill, can it? This is not a free world. Nothing goes for nothing. Such a pity that I was the only one among us that realised that.

Master called us together one day. He gave Ebowo five talents (it's quite a lot of money if you decide to do the maths), he gave Eboope two talents and he gave me one. Hold up - one? Just one? I mean, Ebowo would never measure up to my abilities in a thousand lifetimes. Eboope was even worse! He followed every instruction to the letter and followed Master around like a dog. He could legit be licking Master's feet for those two talents if we were not watching. And he gave me, Olapo, his most brilliant servant, the one who helped him create all that wealth by managing his estate, one talent. I complained o. I could not take such injustice. But Master ignored my tantrums, gave his instructions and left for his journey.

Adamant, I began to think. I thought of the things Master had done to us. I thought of how unfair he had been, how he had treated Ebowo and Eboope with more love and care than me, even though I clearly deserved it more than they did. Nothing I did ever pleased him. I had managed his estate, planted his crops and done more than anyone in that household but he did not care. It dawned on me that all the naysayers I had refused to listen to were right. Master was using me. There was no other logical explanation. He had to be using me, Ebowo and Eboope, or how else could he be so rich and we never moved forward?

I decided to pay him back. But a still voice kept whispering, 'Olapo beloved, if you pound yam in a leaf and cook its soup in the shell of a groundnut, if you want to be satisfied, you will be satisfied'. Well bigger voices raged! Bigger voices that did not call me beloved or compare talents to pounded yam and soup. I am not crazy. I would never ignore the voices that wanted the best for me and listen to this one that kept convicting my heart. Master wanted me to invest and be fruitful with my talents but I would do otherwise. If I did what he wanted, I would be a fool because he would eventually take all the profit for himself. I knew what to do. I would bury my talent.

My colleagues were striving assiduously to bring something out of their talents. Ebowo was running a business enterprise and making more talents everyday. From the talents, he was raising protegees who were building bigger enterprises too. They were all grateful for a kindhearted man like Master who set Ebowo up in business. Eboope had a network of schools that kept making impact, raising people and yielding talents. I was pleased with myself. At least, I was not fattening up my bank account for someone to come and take everything for himself in the end. Ebowo and Eboope were the foolish ones. Master was evil and they did not know it.

Time went on and things changed. My colleagues became so rich and important that even seeing them was a herculean task. I had to go through lots of people and book appointments if I wanted to see either of them. I, Olapo, was booking appointments to see Ebowo and Eboope. They would not have even known Master if they had not met me. I introduced them to Master when I could have left them to die of hunger. Now, they were avoiding me like a plague. They would definitely be brought low when Master returns.

Years passed and Master returned. It was a very eventful day. There was a ceremony unlike any other. There was more than enough to eat, drink and take away. I even took some food to relatives who could not attend the party. I used two big Bagco sacks on that day. Baba no dey carry last abi?

But Master did not forget his talents. How could he? He was a very greedy man. Ebowo, in his greatest display of splendour, showed us everything he had achieved. Eboope, being a slow-witted fellow had some trouble telling us about his network of schools but he nonetheless did his best. What was annoying was that they had both achieved all these in the name of Master. I was appalled to say the least. But right there, in everyone's presence, Master got the necessary documents and transferred everything to them. Now, Master was a known philanthropist but that is just too much. What happened to this man while he was away?

When it was my turn to speak, I did not waste much time. I told Master what I thought about him. He was an old fool and an evil man who was, with every fibre of his being, unjust and favouritic. I went to where I buried his talent to get it for him. It took me several hours of digging to realize that I had lost the talent. Time had covered it with dust.

Master was furious. But beyond fury, my eyes were open to everything I had been blind to before. Looking into those eyes of his, I saw something that had never been there before, or that I had never cared to see. I saw compassion. Not pity but compassion. Not reprimand but love. I saw Master beckoning to me and calling me to come home. He was whispering without words, 'You are forgiven, beloved. I will kill the fattened calf for you'. Master loved me! All these years of pride and folly, I listened to all the wrong voices but did not care to hear the one voice, ever calm, ever peaceful, telling me to abide and yield fruit.

But it was not my fault! The one voice was too still to be heard. How could I listen to a quiet voice in all my raging emotions even if its only intent was to fill me with peace. Tell me, how? The still voice could have been louder but it was not. I agree that I am the unfruitful servant but I will never agree that I am the ungrateful servant. I had always seen Master as a wicked man. If I had known that trip would change him, I would not have buried my talent. If guilt tears at my soul, then so be it. I prefer to die fruitless than to set my feet before Master and apologise to him. Am I really being proud? No, I am being fair. I am being just. And if after you hear my side of the story, you are still seeing me in the bad light they painted me with, then that is your business, not mine. I will never embrace Master's love. I will be in hell before I even try.

-Omotolola Korede.