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, glittering with the sweat that trickled down in heavy drops. His hairless face was devoid of confusion, but amidst the arduous expression lies the mocking gaze of fatigue which the man was trying so hard to smolder. He has lost his stamina of steel. Maybe the many years were finally getting into his bones.
Woods clattered as Uche's sword met Fanyi's, mid-air. The lanky man's blow was weak, and not powerful enough to cause vibrations. That was a blessing.
Uche did not let thought dwell in his head, as he twisted his feet, ready to launch his first attack.
Instead of jumping back, he drove his right knee towards the man's rib, powerful enough to leave the man leaping for days.
"Chimo
oo" Uche screamed as Fanyi took a different stance in the last hour and swept him from his feet, causing him to land on the dust like a bag of groundnuts."Was that meant to scare me?" Fanyi mocked.
Uche did not respond as he coughed himself up to a sitting position. He had played the fool again and had fallen for the man's rusty pranks.
"What kind of warrior uses such exclamations?"
"The one that is going to beat you to a duel one day," Uche said. He was on his feet now and was dusting his pelt.
"Haha. The same one who just kissed the dirt." Fanyi eased his stance and lowered his wooden sword. "When will you learn? I am unstoppable. The best swordsman in the seven kingdoms."
"Second best, point of correction"
"Blah. Women are pathetic." Fanyi said and threw his wooden sword to the far side of the training ground.
A little boy hurried towards the fallen object and picked it as if he had anticipated the older man's move. His hair was shaved to the skin and the branding on his chest gave him out as one of the many slaves of Fanyi.
"The judges were unfair," Fanyi continued. Tinny lines creased his brow, portraying the anger that was beginning to heat his face. "I had the situation under control. Ah, I should have won that competition."
"But you didn't." Uche smiled triumphantly and started towards the mango tree "You lost the fight. And for the fight time, to a woman."
"Biko. Let me hear. You and I know that Ejima is not just any woman. Your wife has special qualities which I have not seen in anyone before."
"Tell me about it," Uche said and rested his weight on the chair, grateful for the mango tree that stood in the middle of the compound, casting a shadow from the hot dry season sun.
He was already gulping the cold water before Fanyi walked up to him and took the seat on the right.
"Have you told her yet?"
Uche paused for a moment, but his face narrowed when he met his friend's brown eyes.
"I have no intention to." He said as he refilled the cup and handed it to Fanyi.
"It is going to break her, and you know it. I think it's best if you tell her," Fanyi shrugged, "maybe find out what she has to say. She is a tough one and I know she would see reasons."
"No," the coweris on Uche's long hair dangled to the side as he shook his head, "I have respected her well enough. It's twenty years of childlessness. I am tired. Nwoke na agbada."
"No," Fanyi licked his lips as his brown eyes looked away from his friend. It was difficult to place a finger on what he was looking at.
"It's been twenty years of misery." Fanyi continued, "Four miscarriages yet she has been strong enough to keep pushing. Why not give her time?"
"Marriage is not like swordsmanship, dear friend. It is more like a work of pottery. One crack is all you need to get a broken piece. And as it stands, mine has four."
"And you are willing to throw the cracks away, after twenty solid years of harmony? All because of...setbacks?"
"Setbacks," Uche laughed, "I would rather you call a snake a snake."
"What about love? I thought the fathers called it the oil that mellows the hurting heart. The bandage of a wounded soul and the glue of a broken spirit. Has this nature's gift lost its wondrous touch in your household?"
"You've never ceased to amaze me, Fanyi. You knew all these yet you have five wives at your disposal?"
"That's it, Uche," Fanyi said, dropping the cup and shifting his weight so he could get his friend's attention. "I have seen these things. I have experienced the joy of one and the trouble of five. I don't want you to wallow into this depth of despair and confusion. Ejima loves you. She is a tough woman who is going through a tough time. Love her and cherish her. You might not understand the hurting finger until you feel the ache."
"The ache is all over me," Uche breathed in as if suddenly tired, "Twenty years, yet without a child. Not even a leprous one."
"Be careful what you wish for, Uche. The trees have ears. And so are the gods."
"Then why have they not listened to my cries? Have I not been a brave warrior or shall my adventures stand as advocates?"
"You are indeed a great warrior," Fanyi picked the clay cup, "but you haven't defeated me yet."
Uche giggled, "Maybe I will leave that part to my wife"
"Hmm, I see." Fanyi gulped the water and returned the cup to Uche, "does that mean you've changed your mind?"
Uche shrugged as if struggling with the question.
"I can't say for sure. Only time will tell."
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
“As promised” Uche signalled with his first finger and the servants dropped the baskets beside the small hut, “here are the gifts.” The Dibia stood and counted the baskets with her nose. There were ten baskets of yam, six baskets of tomatoes, five baskets of ogbono, and a calabash of undiluted palm wine. At least six chicken in their prime were tied together in another basket, just next to some edible vegetables. “You have done well,” the Dibia nodded and returned to her seat. The antelope skin that hung on her shoulders, kept her proud nature affirmed and nothing suggested if she was pleased with the present or not. “And here are the Six bags of cowries, for your trouble.” Uche smiled and dropped the bag into the Lion's skull, right in front of the diviner. He nodded once and his servants retired home while he took the wooden seat opposite the older woman. “I hope everything went as planned?” Uche asked The Dibia muttered some silent words and took a chalk from her goatskin bag.
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