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ORIGIN - Chapter Three

last update Last Updated: 2020-05-18 18:30:52

On the path that led to Isiewu’s shrine, their ears were constantly disturbed by the sound of whistling insects that communicated to their folks as they joyfully whizzed through the air.

“We will soon get there,” Echi assured her in a low voice.

The morning breeze blew and was accompanied by a rumbling sound. Olanna pressed her wrapper tighter around her body to shield herself from the cold that was steadily gaining entrance into the soft body that Echi caressed every night. They kept on walking and passed two men.

“Excuse me,” one of the men beckoned them with a lively tone. “Do you know the road to Umuolu?”

“You are already in Umuolu,” Echi replied.

The men chatted with Echi for a brief period. They asked him a lot of questions about Umuolu before bidding him goodbye.

“Who are they looking for?” Olanna asked when Echi returned.

“I don’t know. They might probably be looking for their relatives. Anyway, that is not our problem. It is their own problem.”

Olanna pointed to the chief priest’s hut when they arrived at the shrine of Isiewu. “Look at it,” she yelled as they approached the hut, raising her hands.

Echi heaved a sigh of relief as he stared at the hut on the outskirts of Umuolu. They dusted their feet on the earthen floor that stood as the veranda to Isiewu’s hut.

The floor was covered with different designs. Some were made with white chalk and formed parallel lines, which were straight and finely curved at both edges, while others were made with black charcoal and formed strange heads of lizards and goats.

Isiewu welcomed and greeted them as they entered the shrine. He had white paint around his left eye and black paint around the right eye. This made him appear scary to most of the villagers. He walked with pride on his shoulders and made sure his footsteps were done orderly to suite his occupation. He carried nothing in his hand except for his goatskin bag, which contained his medicines and charms he used in solving the peoples problems.

Echi sat down, followed by Olanna. The chief priest studied the face of his visitors properly and gave a weak smile. “You are welcome, my son. You are welcome my daughter,” Isiewu said.

“Thank you, eye of the gods,” Echi replied.

Isiewu left them after a brief salutation and went inside his divination room. He returned with a goatskin bag and a changed face. He had cleaned up the white paint on his left eye and replaced it with blood. 

“What brings you here?” Isiewu asked, dropping his goatskin bag on the floor.

“Eye of the gods, our elders say, ‘a toad does not come running in the daylight unless something is after it.’ My wife is the reason why I am here.”

“Oh, I see,” Isiewu exclaimed, widening his eyes. 

He quickly set to work and brought out the materials that would help him communicate with the gods. He brought out the feather of an eagle, the eye of a goat, and three cowries, and then he rubbed his hands together. He placed the feather on the floor and put the eye of the goat on top of it. He grabbed the three cowries and shook it randomly while reciting some incantations. “The man who bears a heavy machete on his hands and cries for blood should be ready to dance with the spirit of a pregnant she-goat.”

After a series of incantations, he threw the cowries in the air, and they landed on the feathers. He frowned and shook his head.

“What is wrong, eye of the gods?” Echi asked.

Isiewu moved and stared at Echi, “Bring the palm of your wife,” he ordered.

Olanna gently shifted towards Isiewu and displayed her palm in front of him. He observed the three long lines that were in her palm and frowned. Two of the lines intersected at their edges, while the other was left alone to wander around freely.

“Bad luck!” Isiewu declared.

The couple exchanged glances, they were not expecting Isiewu’s pessimistic reply, and their fears increased. Olanna cried again, cursing herself for her childlessness and the pains she gave to Echi. She wished she had died the day they wanted to kill her; at least, the smell of the dust is better than the smell of infertility. 

Echi gripped her hand tightly, trying to comfort her. He didn’t like to hear her lamentations. “Can something be done?” Echi broke the misery.

“Yes, she can bear a child. In fact, children, but there is no chance that your generation will live up to the fourth. I suggest it is better to remain childless than to waste your time looking for children. It is useless because your generation will still end.”

“Why do you say so, eye of the gods?”

“Echi, a curse have been made on our head, which restricts you from bearing children. The only way to break the curse is to pay a painful sacrifice. A sacrifice that will affect you badly and make your life meaningless. Useless. As we all know, nothing in this world is free. A man cannot harvest yams on a farmland when he has not levelled the ground for the yam tendrils to dwell.”

“I don’t understand, eye of the gods. Your words makes no meaning to my ears. What you speak is strange and beyond the understanding of the human mind.”

“You have to be brave, my son.” Isiewu laughed. “How can your ears be troubled when it is possessed by a man that chants war proverbs that diviners of Umuolu find difficult to interpret?”

Echi looked at Olanna; he saw fear in her eyes. She was afraid of not giving birth. And most of all, he knew she was afraid of his mother. He turned to Isiewu and furrowed his brows. “What can be done? What must be done?” he asked in a husky voice.

Isiewu stopped laughing and straightened up. “You want to have children?” 

“Yes, eye of the gods.”

“I can give you children. Every chief priest of Umuolu can do that, but I must first demand the offering of the gods.”

“What do you want? Goat, yams, hen. Just tell me what the gods want, and I will give it to them.”

“The gods don’t eat, so they don’t want your goats, neither do they desire your yams nor your hen. What they desire has been specially given to me by them. I am only their instrument, and whatever they say, I listen and do in accordance with the way they ordered. If you want children, you have to pay the ultimate sacrifice, which is life.”

“Whose life?” Olanna asked, staring at Echi.

“The gods desire your life. Only the life of the women brought to Umuolu yearly can break the curse. If you desire children, you have to sacrifice yourself for them. The decision of the gods are final.”

*

Outside, they stood on the veranda of the shrine, lost in thought. After some time, Echi broke the silence. “Will you do as he ordered?” Echi asked.

“Echi, I don’t know what to do. I am confused. How can I die for my children? It is impossible.” 

“Then I will remain childless all my life,” he said in a whisper.

“No, you cannot remain childless all your life. There must be another solution to this problem.”

“We already have a solution,” he said, holding her hands.

“You have to die, Olanna, and that’s the only way out.”

“If I decide to die for my unborn children, how can I train them? Who will train them?”

“The gods know. The gods will take care of that.”

Olanna released her hands from Echi’s grip. “How can I be sure Isiewu is not lying?”

“Olanna, the chief priest never lies, and whatever he says is true. I know this is extremely hard. It is painful for you to die and for our unborn children to live. But we have no choice.” Echi paused and took a deep inhale through his nostrils. “Isiewu has told me everything will go smoothly, and in a month, you will get pregnant. Well, that can only be possible if you agree.”

Olanna turned her face away and stared at the impending danger waiting for her in a dark corner, ready to strike at any time. “When will I die?” she asked.

“Isiewu said you will die immediately after you give birth to three sons.”

“Three sons?”

“Yes, three sons. Just like those lines that run across your palm.”

“The benefits are tempting, Echi, but I can’t die like that. Let Isiewu ask the gods to give me more time to nurse the children. I need to breastfeed them and make sure they are strong. If I die after giving birth to them, who will take care of them? How will they survive without my breast milk? No! I can’t die like that. There must be a way out.”

Echi grinded his teeth in discomfort and touched her again. “What do you suggest we do?”

“Look for an alternative. There must be another solution. A solution that does not involve me dying immediately after giving birth. We can meet other diviners for better solution. After all, he is not the only diviner that exists in this village. There are other diviners that are better than him.”

“Look, Olanna, I am not happy as you are dying. But I have no choice than to accept the words of the chief priest of Umuolu. There is no diviner in Umuolu who is greater than Isiewu.”

“Echi, the gods did not demand for your life, that is why it is easier for you to say these things for me. If your life was requested, I doubt you will agree to the demands of the gods.” 

Echi raised his right hands and touched his forehead. “Do you want us to remain childless?” he asked again, putting his hands down.

“There must be something we can do. Anything. Let us ask Isiewu if he can extend my lifespan. That would be much better.”

They went inside and gave Isiewu their suggestion. They told him to increase Olanna’s lifespan or tell the gods to allow her to live longer to see the children mature. 

“I am sorry to carry this bad news. The gods are powerful, and their words are final. They cannot allow your wife to breastfeed the children before she die. They have decided her lifespan should not be increased. Olanna, I would advice you, listen to your husband and carry out the sacrifice in order to remove the shame and infertility you have placed on him,” Isiewu said.

“Can’t you reduce the children to one and spare my life?” Olanna suggested dejectedly.

“I am sorry. It is difficult to kill two and spare your life. The gods have made a decision which they cannot change. I am deeply sorry.”

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    Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Shading Black is his first book and his first attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name: Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name: Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.

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