Come on now. We are almost there. Ejima steadied her arms, with a sling and stone ready to fly. Her breath was calm as she waited from her hiding place for the animal to move closer enough.
It was an antelope with brown fur and few white spots. There was no horn yet. But the rich dark eyes suggested that it was matured enough. It was nothing close to the one she had killed two moons ago. However, the size would generate an income that would serve for two or three market days before she comes back for a proper hunt.
Songs of praise echoed from the mouth of the forest, merging with the weak afternoon heat and animating the leaves which carpeted the floor. The birds also joined the cacophony, as if warning the animal of the impending danger. It didn't listen, nor showed any sign to obey.
One swing was all it took Ejima to let the stone fly. The motion was swift and before she could retrace her hands, the antelope slump to the side, dead. Her stone had found its mark on the animal's heart, somehow passing through the lungs and preventing the animal from letting out any sound of misery.
Tucking back her sling, Ejima picked her stone-spear and hurried towards her kill. Blood oozed from the animal's heart, drooling on the mat of dried leaves and sand. Like always, her aim had been true and had kept the animal from suffering any pain by killing it swiftly.
Bending over, she touched the neck, the mouth and then...she frowned when she noticed the stiff side. She had just killed a pregnant animal.
Worthless. She hissed and stood from the animal. Most hunters kill and feed on pregnant animals, but not her. For one begging the gods to bless her with the fruit of the womb, it was unwise to feed on nursing mothers or ones that were pregnant.
Turning away from the animal, Ejima was about to decide her next step when she heard a cry.
A wild cat?
Ejima hissed and rested her hands on her waist. Her eyes searched the green and brown world. She was a slinger, the best in the kingdom, at least her husband had made sure of that. She could sling with both the left or the right hand at a strand of hair and not miss.
She was a brave hunter. But she hated wild beasts and the least of her favorites was jungle cats.
The cry came again, this time, she caught the direction. Her bright eyes folded with a frown as she listened. The cry was distinct yet she still could not make out the creature that could make such.
Dropping her stone-spear, she drew out her sling and followed the sound, which was emanating from the west wind of the forest.
This part of the forest had an evening, cold feel. She has not wandered this far before, for fear of being snagged by the trap of the red spirits which had ended the lives of hunters that would not keep to the land of the living.
But that sound…
Ejima swallowed as her stomach jutted. Curiosity propelled her feet forward and like a sacrificial lamb, she followed it tipsily.
The evening cloak of the forest lifted as she burst into a clearing. Her eyes rummaged the area but stopped when they fell on a basket that was sitting some stone throw away from her.
The cry came again and this time making her courage wax. It was so human and agonizing that Ejima struggled to keep her balance.
What animal…?
Her jaw dropped, and at that instant, a sudden chill forced the hair on her body to stand. The cold was weird and had nothing to do with the moist air.
The cries from the basket were of babies. Two babies that were mirror images of each other. Their round angelic faces were pale, probably from dried sweat and tears.
“What are you guys doing here?” Ejima asked and as if they understood, the children's cry started afresh, more kindled than the first.
Ejima could not understand the feeling. But something snapped in her stomach, something that tasted sweet and drowned every sense of doubt. She has never been around babies before. The closest she had was the two miscarriages over the last ten years. The neighbors in the village will not even let her play with their children.
She lowered her first fingers and stroked the faces of the children. The warmth that traveled to her soul was all too compassionate to pass unnoticed.
"Oh," Ejima laughed as one of the boys grabbed her hands and would not let go.
“Look who is hungry,” Ejima said as the boy started to lick her finger.
This was what she had prayed to the gods for. The charming faces of children. Why was it so hard for the gods to give her a child to call her own?
Have they not?
A voice mocked in her head. Ejima wiped her eyes and pulled her hands reluctantly, from the children. The tradition of the people had suddenly struck her. Children like this are taboo in the land and anyone who touches them is bound to be ritually unclean.
But I can’t just leave them here to die. Ejima looked over her shoulders. And I can’t take them home either.
Looking towards the sky she said.
“What kind of a gift is this? I asked for children that would live, not one that the entire community would despise and kill. I need a baby, one at a time. Please give me a child.”
She wiped the falling tears and picked up her sling, ready to let fate take its course.
But the cries of the children…
"Stop giving me that look. The gods were the ones that rejected you, not me."
Ejima hissed and walked back the way she had come. She was going to abandon them. Death was inevitable for the two infants. It was their fate after all.
Just as she started away from the clearing, the cries of the children came again and would not stop.
Ejima closed her eyes, knowing the cries would torment her for the rest of her life unless she did something. And fast.
She walked back to the basket and picked it.
It was small but wrapped perfectly with cocoyam leaf.
Ejima covered the lid, just to shut the ear-piercing cries of the children. She followed the moist whiff, tracing her way to the river. She was going to drown the children. That way it would shut them up for good.
As expected, the dried carpeted floor of the forest paved way for the cold sand.
Ejima walked into the brown flowing waters but hesitated. Drowning the children would be inhuman. That will only make her a monster like the rest of the village.
I am not a monster.
Ejima breathed in. Many thoughts ran through her head. But in the end, she decided to let the basket flow freely on the water surface. The children would die eventually, but not by her hands. She was innocent. Their blood will not be on her head.
Call it luck. Whatever be the definition, but the way Fanyi's chest rose and fell in a constant rhyme made Uche wonder how the man had survived the first tribal war. They had raged into combat together and had battled death itself. However, fatigue was something their enemy had preyed upon. It was the same reason why some of the men had lost their lives, leaving memories and emptiness as a testimony. But how had the man survived? Ducking to the left, Uche jumped back, missing the wooden sword which swung freely above his face. "Same old tricks? Impressive." Fanyi said and took a different stance. It was the 'ice on water' stance. A technique that only a good swordsman can muster. Uche clenched his weapon. He had been on the defensive as always, waiting for the right moment. But knowing who his friend was, Fanyi would never leave a weak spot. The lanky man was too smart for that. "I will beat you on this one." "Not in your dreams," Fanyi said. The morning sun was on his dark skin
It’s been three moons since the episode in the forest, yet Ejima could not shake off those ecstatic faces. Their smiles still glossed her brave heart and mended it with a warmth that had kept her in disarray. Those bright eyes. They had glittered with the sun, chiseling on her soul, and driving her consciousness into that valley of hysteria. Her sleep had been inoculated with lurid sights which at a time made her wonder if she had offended the gods in touching the babies. She had even screamed herself up from sleep one night when she had seen a silhouette of some twin figures chasing her with a horsewhip. “Are you okay?” Ejima blinked and shifted her weight, hoping to find comfort on the wooden chair. She was terrible. The hollowness in her soul was anything but fine. This was the first sign she normally gets when she takes in. But her denial was something she was beginning to believe as truth. Yes, she was living a lie. A lie which she had perfected so well. "Don't worry, it will
The leaves had lost the morning dew and bashed her skin as she traced her way into the forest. The previously cleared paths were beginning to lose their visibility as the grasses tried to sprout their heads from them. It was becoming difficult to see the white sands, and even more difficult to keep the familiarity away. The moist decaying smell, the constant whistles of the birds, the shimmering sunlight which filtered from the canopies of the tall trees, creating a warmth that made her remember her evenings with her husband. She was trading this path again. Not because she was out to hunt. No, this was different. She was different. Those abandoned children were making her different. Gathering her sling on her waist, she rounded the last bend. Dried bones and leaves crushed under her weight. Decayed flesh of men and women alike. Fleshes of people who were rejected by the village. Men that had been buried alive. Lost in history. Forgotten. Ejima knew she was breaking the King's
The spark came from his fingers or was it his body? No, perhaps his soft lips were the force that was electrifying her, gulping her strength and leaving her moaning like a helpless child. He was a beast in the face of battle. She had seen him fight one or two times. But in bed, the story was different. His touch was as tender as the fur of a day-old chick and even though she had tried to master them, she always fell victim to this perpetual ecstasy that words can hardly express. “I wish I had you all along,” Nneamaka breathed in deeply as he caged her in his strong but tender grip. “Hmm, so romantic. Boredom would have killed us right before your late husband did. Besides, I have always been here. You were just too blind to notice me.” There he goes again, always with the habit of ruining the flawless moments. Nneamaka frowned and peeled away from him. It was a reluctant effort and even as she created a slight distance between them, she could hear the silent words that were yelling
Ejima wiped away the sweat that walked down the bridge of her flat nose, but sneezed twice when she accidentally sniffed the dust in her hands. She wiped the tears that followed and tried to return to work but leaned away when a sharp pain strode through her waist. She hissed out the frustration from her teeth and tightened her grips on the wooden hoe. All the light-headedness and the weakness she had been feeling for the last four months, had turned out to be pregnancy. A pregnancy she never wanted. It was a curse to her. A punishment from the gods themselves. Tightening her grip on the farming hoe, she bent carefully but without ease, and was glad when her hands touched the heap of earth and grass. With the hoe, she dug around the brown tendril and tried to pull with her free hand. The yam obliged at the first trial but snapped in two when she tried forcing them the second time. She murmured and continued with the digging, hoping to bring out the rest of the yam that was still under
The lights of the sun were hiding on the other side of the world and the birds were retiring to their nest by the time Ejima decided that it was time to go home, having fed enough on the bread of affliction. She tried to swallow but the fluid in her mouth was all gone. Her lungs were like the face of two stones rubbing over each other and her stomach hadn’t rumbled in protest either. She wasn’t hungry; the sorrow had made sure of that. What kept flooding her mind was all the time she had spent with Uche. He was her first love. They had met on the eve of the new yam festival after she had danced with some of the virgins that were not betrothed. It was love at first sight. He too had performed that day. He had wrestled with Dinta—who turned out to be Nneamaka’s husband—and had lost. The villagers had been angry with Uche, for losing the crucial wrestling match. Most people called him a coward. But Ejima had seen his failure with one eye closed. Even though Uche had denied it, Ejima coul
“I don’t think she can make it” Someone was saying. The words were gibberish and echoed in Ejima’s ears like the voice of some market women, arguing over the price of a goat. Her legs and thigh were on fire and her body ached. Lifting a limb was almost impossible. She tried to raise her head, but the sudden weight of ten thousand people will not let her. Where am I? She tried to recall. Her memory flashed back and a new pain sparked through her spine. She saw her husband and her best friend in her mind's eyes, smiling together, and laughing at their jokes. Nonsense thought She sniffed just as the image of her fall also flashed in her vision. My baby. She panicked but her hands would not move when she tried. The only thing that was moving at the moment was her eyes, which provided her with multiple images. “Drink this,” A voice seemed to say. The multiple images appeared over her head and poured something into her mouth. “But she is still breathing” Came another strange voice.
How long had they carried her? Ejima whizzed, fighting through the rope that gaged her mouth. It was hard to get enough air, especially since her hands have been tied backwards. The firm grip of the guard which locked her to the body of the Ostrich did not add any ease at all. She tried to struggle but realized just then that there was no strength in her. The weakness of childbirth was kicking in and it was taking all of Will's power not to drift into the world of serenity. The pace of the Ostrich eased as they came before two burning torches. The Palace guards alighted, and one of them undid the rope that held her to the Ostrich. She fell heavily from the animal and cursed, but the gag in her mouth would only let a gibberish undertone. She coughed and sat up, trying to suck air into her burning lungs, but all effort was like water poured on a stone. Where were they taking her? Ejima's coppery eyes searched the night. The creeps of the cricket could be heard as they announced the de