It would have been a frosty night if the sound of the ikoro had not beaten down the serenity and dethroned it from its place. Not even the people dancing around the fire could tell the maturity of the cold night. They had forgotten their wine calabash, for the first time in history. These men who love palm wine more than they loved their lives, had left their wine on the bench all because they were dancing. Unbelievable. Jidenna smiled as his almond eyes darted away from the gyrating men to the boys who knelt in front of the Dibia. The palm leaf that lined their lips made them look like an agent of death. Even though they looked tough and held a gaze that was stone cold, he couldn't count any of the five who hadn't fallen under his prey. Those bulging muscles that lined their skin were intimidating, but the boys were weaklings and would do anything to keep their reputation and ego. Jidenna yawned but covered his mouth when he caught the expression on his father's face. They were cold
Jidenna rubbed his eyes and walked out from his little bamboo bed. He yawned wide, giving no care to his father’s instructions to always cover his mouth whenever the need to ease his air tract arises. The good news was that his father was nowhere near his little hut. He was away to the Igwe’s (King’s) palace and will not return until the birds retire to their nest. The man’s lectures never cease. They always went on and on until the sun was high on the cloud. If the ears could get filled up, Jide was sure that his ears would be overflowing with all the instructions his father was laying down for him. He picked his clay cup, and with his free hands, washed the drool from his face, before gulping a good quantity to rinse his mouth. He was becoming a man and his father always forgets that part. Obi will not remain a boy forever, will he? A voice at the back of his head affirmed. Besides, Ugomma was living next to their compound. What will she say when she sees the drool on his face?
"Why Papa?" Jide asked, "why are men so cruel and attack with insult things they don't understand?" Maduka stroked his ears and smelled his first finger before returning to his stool. Jide thought he was going to lick the finger, like some of the elders in the village. But instead, his father washed his hands and returned to sharpening his machete. The lines on his face were deepened, adding more wrinkles to his aging features. Two years ago, his face was as straight as the white stones which he uses to sharpen his swords. Two years ago, he was the best warrior in Umudike and had fought with valor to return the lost glory of the kingdom. Two years ago. Jide shook his head with pity. His father was a man of honor, a brave soldier that put down anything that stood in his way. But now, everything had changed. His life and his position. Everything. His glory days were now reduced to lullabies as if they were some epitaph meant for the ears of the dead alone. "It's a human thing, my so
The heat of the sun was already soft on her skin by the time she caught sight of the basket again. Perhaps the sun was going to bed, she couldn’t tell for sure. Her hands were burning and every muscle seemed to have turned into water. Fatigue was setting in and she knew it. She also knew that if she ceased using her hands as an oar, she would lose sight of the basket which was floating now at the edge of the river. Confident that the current of the river would not carry the basket away, she stopped beating the waters and immersed her head into the river. Every part of her body seemed to relax as the warm hands of the water massaged the weariness in her muscles. She even gulped some amount and was glad when the natural freshness strolled through her throat and blessed her thirst. With the help of the rafter, she pushed herself back to the surface, sucking the warm evening air that hung on every corner of the water body. The tenderness of the river reminded her of her husband. They ha
"You are a spy aren't you?" The missing toe woman asked. The hoarseness in her voice was soul-piercing and could almost chase one's skeleton out of their skin. If Ejima remembered correctly, the coldness and rigidity in the woman's voice bore a resemblance with those of the Dibia back in the village. "And you are the creature with a missing toe?" "Missing what?" the woman's brow tightened, "I can see you are the talker. Wait until we meet the chief, I would gladly shove my spear through your throat and cut out those stupid tongues of yours. Now move." The woman bellowed, nudging her spear and pointing them to the narrow road. Ejima grumbled but obeyed as if the woman had placed a yoke on her neck. Her index finger was no longer bleeding, but the pain was by no means ebbing away. They were still burning and pulsing as though they wanted to draw out her veins. "I will make sure you suffer great discomfort," The woman said. Ejima licked her lower lips. She needed a plan and fast.
Jide clenched his fist and shifted the wooden stool on his head. The sun was just beginning to stand on the world so high, but he could sense his blood boiling with what he could only interpret as anger. The uneasiness on his soul added more salt to his injury. This was a futile effort. Reporting the town crier's crime to the elders was like a deer picking a fight with a Wolf and going after to report to the pack how badly they've hurt it. They were all the same, the elders and the town crier alike. Stray dogs don't leave their deeds in the dark. Even their whiff could be perceived from a far distance. Jide hissed and held firmly the wooden stool whose weight was beginning to burrow a hole in his scalp. While most Osu (outcasts), would die with excitement to have a moment in the King’s court, Jide found it rather annoying. The urine smell of the court, and the old woman who walked about bare chest, made him wonder if beauty has lost its tussle with ugliness. Even those so-called wise
Thick bamboo fences separated the King's compound from the rest of the village. As usual, the urine fustiness trimmed the outer court, bringing back the image of the decayed deer Jide had seen some months back. Old women of different sizes and shapes promenaded to and fro, with royal animal skin, lining their waist, leaving their breasts to flap from side to side like a banana leaf. They were chatting the morning away, obviously unaffected by the stench looming on every corner. Jide has never seen so many old people clustering in one place before. That must be the reason for the stink. Perhaps they rarely bathe or wash. Or was it unanimous with old people? Well, if growing old means smelling like an abandoned cloth that was soaked in a smog of wasted garbage, then Jide prefers to remain a kid forever. He would rather smell like butter every day and remain a kid than have gray hairs and folded skins with flies as a company. “This way,” Maduka said. Taking the lead. Jide hurried behind
Commotion rose from one corner of the rough wall, bouncing on the edge and spreading through every side as Jide and his father stepped into the throne room. It was hard to move a muscle, not with the men, squabbling like little ducks quarreling over a little fish. Standing there did not add any light to Maduka’s ignorance. Too many people were talking at the same time. Too much verbiage. Snorting he pointed to the space on the right, some strides from the throne. Jide lowered the seat and settled it so that it could balance on the lumpy floor. The throne was empty, no wonder the noise from the elders. Even the palace guards were absent. It was not strange but Maduka could feel the emptiness slacking with laxity. This has never happened before, not in a long while. The last time the king had been late to court, was the day his only son and heir to the throne, had fallen sick and had died the day after. Yes, it was not strange for the King to be late, but not to this extent. “Are you
Another east wind drifted through the trees and rested upon him, easing out the discomfort of the last twelve years. He shifted to the side and smiled when the golden rays that tubes from the trees' leaves, seemed to knock on the door of his eyes. Only one word came to his mind. Peace. Indeed, one does not know the value of what they have until they lose it. But it is also true that one does not know the value of what they have been missing until it arrives. Before now it was wars, killing, revenge, and anger. There have been several sacrifices to different deities and for different purposes. But now, everything has changed. It was the introduction of the divine, the coming of the king of kings that has blotted away the darkness which plagued the land for a very long time."Still enjoying the view or should I say the peace?"Jide's smile broaden as he took the cup of palm wine. It was obvious, the peace. Everyone was enjoying it
It was his only place of solace, his last resort. Even as he walked blindly through the foliage of green, the word ‘I am your son’ kept his mind awake. It was a bold claim, and for the moment, Uche could have sworn that his powers had turned into water. He wanted to run into the boy's arm and wrapped his hands around him. If Bozo was his son, then everything he had been fighting for was useless. Bozo had the kingdom and the power, which Uche could lay claim to once he took the boy in as his father. He could have amassed the boy’s riches to himself since Bozo seemed to be richer than Ame a hundredfold. That way, he would have control of the land, and everyone would bow to him. But on the other hand, accepting Bozo would also mean accepting Ejima. And that was a curse he wouldn’t wish for his enemy, not while the woman was a bag of misfortune and evil. He would rather spend his days in poverty than accept Ejima into his home again.Uche added pressure on
Navigating through the forest was not as easy as the masters had predicted. But that was partly due to the malfunctioning compass which had misled them twice. Goddison had taken charge after the third trial had failed. He was leading them now, through a path in the forest, trusting his nose and ears. Mary on the other hand had said fewer words since they departed four days ago. She had kept to herself, speaking only when spoken to. As usual, there was no age on her face, despite the scorching heat, her expression was plain, yet each time Jide looked in her direction, the woman was always muttering to herself. It was called prayer, Jide had learned from one of the masters, which made him wonder if the prayer is everlasting.Five people had embarked on this journey, excluding Ugomma and Jide. The locale in the village had provided them with horses and supplies and had bid them farewell with the grace of God. Jide had made a few friends though, a man n
She thought she heard herself screaming, but that was a thought that her consciousness did not register. Her head was heating, and the sweat that streamed from her body was like a pool. Uche was laughing now, and the triumph in his eyes only dug the anger that Ejima had harbored for the past twenty years."No, this is not happening,"Ejima panted and watched in horror as Kachi and his men, lifted Bozo out of the pit and placed him on the dusty floor. She trotted towards their direction and rested Bozo's head on her lap, using her free hand to add pressure on his wounded chest. It would have been worse, but his metallic armor had prevented some damage."I will do it all over," Bozo coughed and blood dribbled out of his mouth. His brown eyes had lost their grandness, mixed now with tears and regrets."Please, don't die. Please." Ejima cried amid the hot breath that came pouring out of her nostril. Some inches away was the pit which Uche had dug. Ghost, Bozo
He kept looking into the bright eyes, lost in the exuberance of the woman he had longed so much to meet. The past twenty years had not changed her much, just the crease that was gliding towards the sides of her face. Despite the age, her chocolate skin was almost radiating like that of a baby. Gray was the song of old age, yet her hair had failed to sing its songs. She fitted the picture he knew since he was still ten years. Nothing about her had changed nothing.She has been through a lot. Guilt crawled through Bozo's stomach triggering regrets and maybes. He should have remained here to help her. He should have found her earlier.“You are my son? You are…Bozo?”“How did you know my name, Mmechi made sure we remained hidden from the rest of the village?” Bozo said as he helped her to her feet. He could still hear the rustle and the crushing leaves, he still remembered the night when Mmechi had smuggled them out of the village, for
Cold went through her nape as she went on down the lonely path. Raining season had pathways for the harmattan wind, which fogged the treetops like the smoke of a burning bush. Until today, coming here wouldn't have crossed her mind in ages. It's been a long time and every step into the forest flushes back the memory. How long has it been? Why was the forest notorious for harboring evil?Ejima steadied her hands on her staff. The burning sensation on her side was still there and her head ached. She needed a good sleep. She needs to clear her mind. Life has indeed dealt with her, she could sense the heavy stripes on her soul and the weight crashing on her shoulders. It has always been from one problem to another, one death or misfortune to another. She was the victim. Maybe the villagers were right? Maybe the words of the Dibia were right? Maybe she indeed was a daughter of misfortune.No, that can't be. A voice assured in her head as she continued. She had not met anyon
The almond eyes flashed into Ejima's memory and instantly she could place the horny skin and the rich dark hair that had turned grey. "My goodness. What happened to you? You look-" "Old?" Mmechi laughed, "Ije Uwa. Constantly working on the farm, with the sun blistering its heat on your head could leave your hair as snow white as mine." She laughed again. "But those are the good days. It brought me here." "You look fine." Ejima smiled. The woman's hunchback was gone and even though Ejima would love to know how she didn't ask. With the misery that came with the woman's condition, Ejima decided to keep that part aside. Unless Mmechi told her along the line, she was not ready to prey out the information. The past should remain buried sometimes. "I never thought I would see you again." Ejima helped herself out of the bed. Mmechi was already lost in thought. The woman was once her servant. Ejima had taken her in after the villagers had condemned her because
She opened her eyes to the pounding noise of the mortar and pestle. It sounded distant at first, yet the tantrum on her head, registered like two stones, rubbing over one another. It was a dark room, candled by a dim light, burning wastefully by her right. Horrible-looking creatures hung on the ceilings. Skull of animals, different types and breeds. The soapy smell also made her rub her nose, she couldn’t help but think of some dead fish, left by the riverside to decay. Not that it affected her much, the headache and the occasional blurring vision left her in doubt. Maybe she had hit her head on something. It was hard to tell. But she remembered lying on the cave bed and begging Uche for her life. He had not freed her, the blood lust had driven him into stabbing her continuously with his dagger. And she had...is this the land of the dead? “You are awake.” The pounding noise ceased as an old woman appeared, smiling weakly at her. Her hands were a tendril of vein
Another wave of dust followed the marching feet as the men snailed through the mountain peaks like migrating ants. From one end of the hill to the far side on the horizon, war songs upheld the calmness that once asserted the forest. There were at least a hundred men on horseback and a thousand or so on foot. These were husbands, fathers, farmers, brothers, and uncles. Before now, they were familiar with pitchforks, knives, and other household materials. But not anymore. Years of torture and torment from the Freeborns have drilled them into valiant warriors of anger and vengeance. They were fearless and would battle anything that stood in their way. While some people in the council had argued about their brutality, the truth no one was seeing was the fact that these men had kept the land safe for the past fifty years. It was the will to keep their family and loved ones from oppression that kept them going. That love was so stronger than any force in the universe.Bozo deepened