CHAPTER 11

Ejima yawned widely, not bothering to cover her mouth. She rested her weight on the broom and allowed her bright gaze to wander through the place she now calls home. It was nothing close to the size of her husband's compound, and the dried leaves that carpeted the floor made her want to cuddle under her skin. Bloody cashew tree. She hissed and wiped the sweat drop that had strolled towards her eyelid. Leaning away from the broomstick, she continued with her chore, hoping to be done before the sun hangs on the centre of the earth.

But for the many trees, nothing stood for miles, just her small hut and the grasses. It would take about eight to ten miles before the next house could be seen. Seven weeks have passed since they drove her out of her husband's place, to this serene environment whose loneliness could make a ghost run out of wit. If hardship had not been her best companion all these years, she would have died of boredom.

Dropping the broomstick, she packed the gathered leaves into an old basket and disposed of them at the far side of the bush. This was her life now, serving the gods in this isolated place. Of course, it came with its advantage: she now has access to every food she could think of from the sacrifices the people offered to the gods. She was the priestess of the gods and could do whatever she so desires. But that in itself could not fill the void in her chest, or erase the memory of her past life.

"Wise one,"

Ejima lifted her head to the voice. A boy, no younger than twenty years of age, had burst into the compound, panting and sweating as though a horde of demons were on his heels.

"Wise one" He cried, stretching out his hands to reach her, but his feet gave way and the dried leaves in the compound crunched in protest as he fell on them.

Wise one?

Ejima's brow folded inwards. She has not completed her ritual yet and was not fit for the title. If the Dibia was here, she would have chastised the boy for using such sacred title for a novice who was still learning how to sweep the compound of the gods.

"Wise one, your presence is needed in the house of Maazi Ikemba"

"O gini (What is it)?" Ejima asked.

"Akunnaya..." The boy swallowed trying to find his breath "Akunanaya, Maazi Ikemba's wife, gave birth to those demonic babies."

The lines on Ejima's face deepened.

They are not demonic babies; you buffalo. She wanted to say. "That is not my job." Were the words that came out instead, "Why not call the Dibia? She is the one whom the gods have appointed to dispose the babies."

"I have checked her house, but I learned that she travelled to the neighbouring village and will not return until the next Eke market day. You are the only wise one in the village as we speak"

"Perhaps, you should go to her shrine and wait for her until she returns" Ejima picked her broom and returned to her chore, hoping the boy would let her enjoy the peace of mind.

"Please, wise one. Those demons are tormenting Maazi Ikemba's household with their cry. The tradition forbids anyone, but the one anointed by the gods to touch them. Please." The boy wept.

"But I am not anointed yet. I am still a novice. Or have you come here to mock me?" Ejima studied him dubiously.

"Curse be the day I was born if the thought of mocking you ever crossed my mind."

"Then return to the village and wait for the Dibia. The Eke market day is but three days away."

"The cries of those children would have killed everyone in the village before the Dibia returns. Please wise one, Maazi Ikemba has even threatened to kill his wife if the babies are not disposed of in the forest of Iyi before nightfall. Save a life, Biko (please)."

Ejima's stomach jutted when she had the boy's tale. She couldn't help the memory as they came flooding in. The scars in her emotion seemed to have ripped open, and before she could hold herself, the tears were already dripping from her cheeks.

"Okay," She wipes the tears, "Put yourself together and return home. Let me gather my things, I will get rid of the babies."

"Thank you wise one," The boy wiped his tears and hurried up to his feet.

"And," Ejima's eyes narrowed, "tell Maazi Ikemba not to burst an artery. He should save the anger of his sword for the foes of the kingdom."

"I will, Wise one, I will." The boy bowed and ran out of the compound.

Ejima dropped her broom reluctantly and walked into her hut. She hung the ritual skin-made from the hide of an antelope-over her pelt and collected her divination bag. This was not her job. Her job was to accept burnt offerings from the people. She was not responsible for the daily activities of the village. Why would the Dibia travel out of the community like that?

She walked out of her hut and hurried to the compound the boy had described.

It was only eight market days. About a week and a day that she started working in the shrine, yet it seemed as if it was forever. She had not left the shrine for these few days, but as she walked into the village now, everything seemed anew. It was as if her eyes have been open from another dimension. She now had a different perspective of life, so to say.

Sorrow and agony covered the compound as she walked into it. If the tears of these women were collected and joined, she was sure it could outflow a river. Their brown eyes were now red, yet the tears that were gushing out kept pouring.

"Wise one," Maazi Ikemba walked towards her. Short dark man, with his brown hair tied backwards in a ponytail. The respect that lined his coppery eyes was something Ejima had not found in any man, except her husband.

"My wife and I..."

"I know" Ejima nodded. The scar she had kept at bay for the last few weeks seemed to rip open. "where are the children," She bit her under lips, forcing down the tears.

"Inside the hut, with the midwife."

"Okay, tell them not to harm a hair on the children,"

"What?" Maazi Ikemba asked.

Ejima couldn't place the surprise that mixed with the man's voice. Was he deaf?

"I said, tell the midwives not to harm those babies. They should wash the children and dress them up for the final ritual."

"But, Wise one. Tradition forbids anyone from touching the children."

"Well, who made tradition?"

"The... the gods, I guess." The man shrugged, not meeting her eyes.

"Now, the gods have said, wash the babies. I am the one who hears from the gods, not you." Ejima met the question in his coppery gaze, but she knew deep down that he wouldn't argue with her, not openly though.

"Or do you want to defile the gods?" She added.

"No, not at all," he grumbles, shifting his weight to the other feet.

"Where is your wife,"

"There, inside that room, Wise one." His small fingers pointed in the direction.

"Good," Ejima walked towards the hut. The sorrow from the people in the compound still hushed the serenity of the morning air and choirs of eyes followed her as she made her way to the small house. The heat in them, reminding her of what she once was. Those gazes that once held her with contempt and disrespect now look at her with terror and awe as though she was the greatest priestess in the entire kingdom.

"I want everybody in that room to get out. I need to purify the mother from every uncleanliness." She shouted when she finally stood at the entrance of the small hut.

People burst out from the hut. People whom Ejima could not understand how they had fitted into the small room. They murmured as they hurried out, but Ejima tried to remain neutral to any sense of thought. She walked into the room, and her stomach tightened with agony when she saw the mother of the children.

Blood splattered on the floor, the bamboo bed, and the rags that hung on the rack. The woman was awake, but her breathing was not steady and her strength was like water. She lifted her gaze to the entrance but hissed when she saw Ejima.

"I am sorry that it has to be this way."

"Thank you, wise one" The woman whispered. Despite the black blood that littered the place, she seemed to be cleaned up from the fresh animal skin that covered her body.

"Can I ask you a question?" Ejima said and walked towards the woman, not minding the stench that tried to churn her stomach, "If you had a chance to save your babies will you keep them?"

"The gods forbid I bring such disaster to the land," The woman said weakly.

"So you would kill the children you gave birth to because of tradition?"

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but froze, creasing the dark skin that lined her brow. The looks on her face were clear, she must have considered the fact before.

"I will do everything to keep my village from calamity-

"Even if it means killing your children?" Ejima interrupted, but her eyes narrowed with dejection when the woman nodded.

"Very well then" Ejima added, "be it done to you as you have wished," She turned to the door and walked out of the exit, feeling sorry for the mother who had placed a curse on what should have been a blessing.

The murmur in the compound quieted down, and it took a while for Ejima to notice the cause of the sudden stillness. A woman had brought the twin babies into the scene, in a wrapped basket, as the tradition had instructed.

"Here are the children," She said and handed the basket to Ejima.

The angelic face of the children made Ejima want to wax in agony, but she held herself, holding the basket with her shaking fingers

"I will..." She cleared her throat, hoping the people had not noticed the sadness in her voice, "I will dispose of the children in the forest of Iyi. Anybody who wants to incur the wrath of the gods should tag along."

She could hear the silent whispers and murmurs of the people, but she didn't care. All she wanted right now was to get rid of these babies and return to the solitude she calls a house. This was the last time she would touch these children again. She had drunk so much from this cup of agony.