EPISODE1
That night
the weather over Alammiri was as treacherous as a fair young maiden whose body
was about to taste the gracious spice of womanhood. Thunder arrogantly
announced itself, the moon receded immediately as though it had become
frightened by the loud grumble of thunder. A luminous whip of lightening lashed
periodically across the grey sky. Tears of joy consequently trickled down the
Igwe's wrinkled cheeks when the shrill cry of a new born cut through the air thick
with anxiety. Igwe Ogwugwu longed patiently for a son for over sixteen years of
his reign over Alammiri which was agonizingly bereft of a son even after
marrying three different wives. A deluge of women clad in scruffy jute women
wrappers which barely covered their sagged blossoms made joyous traditional
sounds of ululation and reeled in wild excitement. The Igwe's joy knew no
bound, he threw royal comportment to the wind and danced like a lunatic. No
sooner had he exhausted his warehouse of patience than the gods smiled upon his
household. He now had an heir to his throne “My chi has answered me, my enemies
shall no longer laugh at me. We shall call h Obinnaya” proclaimed the Igwe, beaming
with radiant smiles of euphoria. "We shall have a great feast, on the next
eke day” roared Agbako, the Igwe's diminutive Onowu. Obinnaya's naming ceremony
was indeed a great feast, it attracted noble kings from far and wide to
Alammiri. Hungry villagers weren't left out and they trooped in en mass and
feasted voraciously on the assorted soups and pounded yam available. Otenkwu
the Village drunk was ever present, he laid languidly in a cane chair in one
arm of the Igwe's expansive Obi. The music was melodious, the seasoned fingers
of expert drummers descended mercilessly on the tired faces of old loyal drums.
Smallish feasted for four market days, the news of the Igwe's new born son
travelled beyond horizons like the hammartan wind. ***
Seventeen
years went by in a flash, Obinna was overwhelmed by the dawn of manhood, the
silhouette of childishness gradually crept away like the market days. He was
the pride of his father, and was loved by the entire village particularly for
his trademark compassion and kindness towards the common people and peasants. The
moment he approached the eighteenth year when he'd become entitled to various
traditional rights including the throne, strange occurrences began to take
place. The Igwe was plagued perpetually by this strange nightmare, animals died
in numbers, the sky suddenly became barren and the rains ceased even though it
was the peak of the rainy season. Crops withered, an impending famine was
inevitable. “Igwe kedu ihe na eme nu, what is happening? nineteen market days
and yet no rains” queried Mazi Elendu “Igwe people are dying” lamented Ichie
Otanja “The other day Ngozi mysteriously slumped and died on her way from the
Okeopi stream, Akiti fell off his ngwor tree while tapping palm wine and died, Enyidiya
was hit by a giant ukwa fruit and died. I wonder who'll be next “ Ichie Elendu
lamented. After a long period of pensive meditation, punctuated by sighs, Igwe
Nwaogwugwu responded at last, he cleared his throat, concern boldly inscribed
on his face as he stood up to address the murmuring elders. “Ndi Ichie'm, ekele'm
unu. I equally do not have the answers you seek, I have also been having these
very strange nightmares myself, where about a dozen evil looking children invade
my sleep and torment me, but we shall find answers, tomorrow I shall send my
servants to summon Dumebi the revered priestess of the evil forest.” “Ehennn
this sounds better” murmured one of the already garrulous elders “He who brings
kola brings life, now my elders, let us eat, Oga adi mma, all will be well”
assured the Igwe with a note of finality. “Iseeee!” echoed the elders in unison
“Ochendu! please bring me that keg of very fresh palm wine” called out the
Igwe, this instruction suddenly lit up the previously gloomy faces worn by the
elders. They collected kolanuts in turns after the usual traditional protocols
were observed, hurriedly brought out different sizes of horns, and filled them
to the brim with fresh bubbly raffia Palm wine and momentarily forgot about the
calamity which was about to befall Alammiri.
*****To be
continued****
Episode two
to come in the next post.
Written by
EDOZIEM CV & EDOZIEM SLEY
Edoziem has great Love for fictional writing and portrays an efficient use of
personification, he had his primary and secondary education in the north,
Kaduna state precisely. He holds a B.Sc. in Physic from IMSU, Owerri and a
Masters degree from University of Lagos. He is Influenced by the literatures of
the renowned author; Chinua Achebe and the exceptional Chimamanda Adichie.
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