REDEMPTION

           

'This child is cursed', the priest said raising his head from looking at the tortoise shell  where his divining cowries are placed. His iron staff rattled as he shook it and continued to mutter under his breath.

Ebere opened her mouth in shock looking at the baby in her laps and the priest who has since taken up another task in his small shrine at the backyard of his mud house.

She didn't know when the tears began to fall from her eyes onto the shawl with which she wrapped the innocent bundle who is now smiling in his sleep? Is he mocking her now? Is he relishing the thought that she is now stuck with him? He was even lucky that all the concoction she took to abort him only made her feel nausea as the month progressed until she gave birth to him, alone.

None of her siblings came to congratulate her. Who will  congratulate the birth of an abominable child? 

'Your eyes have seen what it is looking for', Nwankego sneered when she learnt that her friend was pregnant.

'What has my going to the white man's church have to do with this', she said pointing to her belly.

'It has everything to do with it', she shouted so that people passing by could hear. A few who heard Nwankego's voice made a stop but as soon as they saw who she was talking with, they hissed and left. Nwankego is the only 'friend' who still come by to visit but she won't go without leaving behind a word of rebuke about her friend's association with the new religion.

The vigil just ended. That was the first of its kind in Ofune village. The first and only village of the entire nine clan to open its door to the strange religion. The chief priest's son had wandered after the white preacher and his black interpreter and his father had cursed and disowned him. 

This was a period when electricity had not entered the village. The period when shadows were used by the villagers to measure the time of the day. 

She felt a presence behind her with a quickening pace. She was not afraid. In Ofune, the villagers walk at night alone or in groups as long as their is a lamp to lead  the way. She had no lamp except the moon which is a little darkened because of the thick smell of an impending downpour. She stopped to allow  whoever was in haste behind her to pass along while she enjoyed her lone walk.

The darkness prevented her from having a good look on the face of the man until he came close, made a low bow and made as if to go then turned sharply and charged at her. It was sudden. she was on the ground before she could utter any word. The struggle went for a while until he succeeded and came into her.  Her voice sounded like a pipe broken and held by a clothe. The stench that invaded her nose from the weight working himself to satisfaction on top of her interpreted the horror unfolding. Rape! Madman! Chukwuka! Help! Those were the words that made an escape from her lips whenever her moan went low.

Like lightening before thunder, he was done, walking away at the same pace with which he arrived without even saying thank you to the young lady who he left  still lying on the ground crying her eyes out.

The news spread like untameable pandemic and everyone avoided her. She has become an object of ridicule. She was carrying the seed of the village's madman, Chukwuka.

His growth was rapid and he was restless. He had a carefree and adventurous spirit. He ventured into things his pairs will naturally avoid. He was living to his name, a cursed child or Nwa aburu onu. The negative reception he received all around helped to propel him towards evil without restraint. He was at once a terror to the entire village.  A daylight robber that would steal from you and dared you to arrest him. The white administrators had not yet unfurled their fangs on the village. They were by and large just missionaries with a strange religion eager to make disciples of the villagers. So, Chukwu Junior or Nsogbu as they called him, was still having a field day.

Wherever she went, voices whispered and fingers pointed. She was forbidden to partake in anything of the village's. Her fate was worse than that of an Osu. Added to it was a cursed child, a seed of a madman. Even Chukwuka didn't live long. He died in his sleep few years later.

Their song was the first invitation. A combination of alto, bass and treble that blended harmoniously. He was busy in the bush roasting a goat he just stole. Then a deep feeling of dissatisfaction settled in his chest as the song went on. He tried severally to put the loot in his mouth after he had finished roasting it but he never succeeded. The aroma of the meat could not divorce his mind from the call of the music.

He wept as he went towards where the song was coming from. A feeling of guilt and helplessness gripped his heart. The people who sat or stood to watch as the immaculate choir from another village farther than theirs, delivered their song, made a dash for their lives as they saw him approach. He was coming to disrupt the meeting, they thought but seeing the tears in his eyes confused them. When he got to the front, he knelt down and wept loudly. The people were the more confused but the catechist who knew what was happening went to him and embraced him. Deep down in his heart, he knew without a doubt that a prodigal son had come to the foot of the cross.

                          THE END

Glossary

Nwa aburu onu- A cursed  child (in Ibo language)

Nsogbu- An Ibo word for Trouble

Osu- The Osu caste system is an ancient practice in Igboland that discourages social interaction and marriage with a group of persons called Osu. They are a group of people dedicated to the gods. They are seen as inferior human beings.

Seasons Greetings to you. Thank you for stopping by. I hope you enjoy this one? We will catch up later. Until then, I am Yours Truly,

Julius Topohozin