Chapter 5: Death and Birth

"The undertaker has taken Rebecca Batard."

The hall was filled with stillness. The great lord general sat on his throne, lost in notions.

"My great lord general, what should we do?"

One of the honored men Nutusel inquired.

"What should we do?"

The great lord general reacted with a heart full of sorrows.

"Yes, my great lord general."

"My papa, we shall mourn the dead and celebrate the newborns - Dirk Stund and Rebede Jama!"

"Yes, my great lord general."

They chorused a response as they walked to the great lord general and knelt before him.

"Go now to the papa of Nutusel. Tell her we have received her words. Four watchmen of Nutusel shall return with you to assist in hauling Kharl Sterg and Rebecca Batard to the land of the undertaker."

His voice wavered with a touch of emotion. Then he resumed.

"Kiba, some honored men of Nutusel, some lords of the court, and some of the men of Nutusel shall join them. May paradise be their abode."

"Mmm!"

Everyone put their right arm forward and chorused a response to the great lord general's prayer.

"Go and may Kabril go with you, my children."

"Mmm!"

Dirk and Rebede stood and hurried out of the hall. Rebede walked behind Dirk just according to the customs of Nutusel. In Nutusel, a woman was never allowed to walk before a man notwithstanding his age, except the woman was a member of the honored men. Thus, nursing mothers carried their male newborns on their chests and never on their backs.

The great lord general starred on the floor in fusses, then he lifted his head.

"The honored men of Nutusel, the lords of the court, the hunter of honor, and the great men of Nutusel. Today, we shall treat death with great disdain and celebrate the birth with the Utmost feast. Bring in the foods, bring in the wines; let the feast begin."

The crowd cheered, and symphonies filled the hall gradually.

Some of the women tied pieces of clothes around their waists, laid, and rolled on the ground as they whined loudly at one part of Batard's compound.

It was the duty of women of Nutusel to whine loudly on empty stomachs in the house of the deceased person, while the men consigned the deceased to the grave. That day was strange in Nutusel, as such, strange decisions were taken and strange actions executed.

On another part of the compound, the celebration of birth was done. The women sang songs of gratitude to Kabril as they performed the rituals.

The Duchess carried a receptacle with dissolved bentonite clay-filled to its brim. They danced around her, they dipped their hands in the receptacle in turns and removed their hands when their fingers were shaded enough. Then, they danced and knelt before the Papa of Nutusel who had the newborns on her lap, they rubbed the bentonite clay shaded fingers on the newborns' body and their foreheads. They recounted melodies and dances in praise of Kabril.

The four watchmen of Nutusel stepped out of the house, dressed in all-around black clothes and muskat guns hanged on the waists. They carried the dead bodies enclosed in black pieces of clothes. Batard shuffled behind them as they waddled out of the compound.

The children of Nutusel stood in plight as they watched from the kitchen where they served the porridge in empty carved calabash.

The group of the women mourning the deceased began to sing the songs of sorrow, tears flooded Batard's eyes. He starred into the sky and shuffled on.

They sauntered for minutes without pausing or looking behind them.  They walked in absolute soundlessness; not even the sounds of their foot were heard.

when they got to the land of the undertake they halted. They stood still awaiting instructions from Kiba.

Kiba and the men propelled by the court of Nutusel approached Batard and the watchmen, dressed in black agbada.

"Kabril is your strength, Batard the son Depinn."

Kiba tapped him gently on the shoulder. Then he walked past the watchmen shaking his head in disappointment.

"Bring them forward, their graves are dug already. The softness of the soil has favored us perhaps."

Kiba instructed as he stood before them. They followed him to the dug graves.

Batard stood amidst the rest watching the watchmen dump Rebecca and Kharl Sterg into a six feet dug grave.

Kiba sat before the graves rendering prayers and incantations to Kabril. After he finished with the devotions, he went on his feet, and Batard strode towards the graves, collected some pieces of grit, and spread them into the graves. The honored men did the same, followed by the lords of the court, then the rest men.

They all stood around the graves maintaining a good distance. The watchmen covered the graves with grit, the honored men of Nutusel sang the songs of sorrow as the spades met the ground.

The watchmen stood with the rest after the whole graves were covered with sand.

The dirge died out unhurriedly.

"May the paradise, the home of Kabril be their abode."

"Mmm!"

They all walked in a single group to Batard's home singing the songs of sorrow. Kiba lead the group, the honored men walked behind him, then the lords of the court, Batard, and the rest.

"Get me more sosatie and wine!"

One of the lords of the court requested.

"Oh! Lord Philip, you can have all that you want. There is wine in agogo in my Castle. Drink, drink as much as your brain and mind can hold."

The great lord general acknowledged.

"My great lord general, may you be like tomorrow, because tomorrow never ends."

"Mmm!"

The feast continued in the court. The men drank and ate to stupor as resounding melodies echoed.

"Brave Batard, the son of Depinn. You have to remove the garment of sorrow and wear the garment of gratitude now."

Kiba suggested.

Batard declined against the wall. The sitting room was filled with the members of the court and men of Nutusel.

"Kiba, I am yet to honor my wife to gratification."

"Bartard, my son. You will continue to honor Rebecca till eternity. Rebecca lives in your heart. You have a son to care for now..."

"And a daughter, my papa."

Batard, broke in.

"Yes, Batard. You have to stay strong for them, you are a father now."

The porridge was put before him. He glanced at the calabash and ignored it.

"Eat it, my son, eat the porridge of gratitude. We have bemoaned, it is time to show gratitude. We can not question kabril, he is never wrong and we will all live to find out."

One of the honored men encouraged him.

Then he dipped his fingers into the calabash and began to eat the porridge in motion.

The honored men stroke the room with the songs of gratitude, and others engaged.

ENDINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS BAD. MOST TIMES THEY ARE JUST BEGINNINGS IN DISGUISE.

Kim Harrison.