Chapter 8: Bonds of Brotherhood

As Obinna sat in his hut, thinking of his plans moving forward, a familiar voice cut through his thoughts.

"Obinna! Are you going to sit in there all day like an old man, or will you come out and face us?"

He smirked. Ekene.

Before he could respond, the cloth doorway was shoved aside, and three figures stepped in without hesitation.

They did not knock. They did not announce themselves.

Because they didn't need to.

Ekene, Ikenna, and Nnamdi. His brothers in everything but blood.

Obinna leaned back, arms crossed. "Didn't realize I was hosting a gathering."

Ekene grinned. "You never do, yet here we are."

Ekene was tall, broad-shouldered, and always ready for a fight. A proud son of Umuoji village in Akutala, he came from a long line of warriors who lived for battle.

Hot-headed but fiercely loyal, he had been Obinna's closest friend since childhood.

"You should have warned us before dying and coming back," Ekene said, as he sat down on the floor before crossing his arm. "Would've saved us a lot of confusion."

Obinna chuckled. "Would you have believed me?"

Ekene grinned. "No. But I would've punched you just to see if spirits can feel pain."

Nnamdi chuckled, adjusting the fine wrapper draped over his shoulder as he sat down "A man who dies and returns should expect visitors. Some of us like to make sure he's still... real."

Nnamdi had a knowing smirk on his face. A son of Umunri village in Ejuona, he came from a family of merchants who dealt in palm oil, kola nuts, and iron.

He was a natural negotiator, always finding a way to profit from any situation.

"You are the most profitable investment this village has seen in years," Nnamdi said smoothly. "A man who dies and returns? Do you know how much people would pay for a story like that?"

Obinna raised a brow. "You mean lies?"

"Stories," Nnamdi corrected. "Lies are what weak men tell to escape punishment. Stories build legends."

The last was Ikenna, a stark contrast to Ekene's fiery presence. Lean and wiry, with sharp cheekbones and calculating eyes, he carried himself with quiet confidence.

Ikenna hailed from Ogene village in Akutala, a place known for its thinkers and tacticians. While the Ndiagbo warriors fought with brute strength, and Umuoji sought glory, the Ogene clan played the long game.

They observed, they planned, and when they struck, it was with precision.

Ikenna was always the first to see the trap before it was set. Even as children, when Obinna and Ekene would rush headfirst into trouble, Ikenna would already be finding a way out.

Yet, his silence was not one of weakness. His words, when spoken, carried weight. And his loyalty, though quiet, was never in doubt.

"I watched the elders during your trial," Ikenna said, his voice measured. "Some believed in you. Some did not. But none dismissed you outright." His sharp gaze locked onto Obinna's. "You have their attention. Now, you must decide what to do with it."

Obinna studied their faces. These weren't just idle visits. They were here for something.

"You think I have a plan?" he asked.

Ekene snorted. "I think you wouldn't have fought your way back from the spirit world just to sit here sulking."

"Sulking?" Obinna scoffed. "Is that what you call thinking?"

"I call it wasting time," Ekene said. "While you're in here, the elders are whispering, the warriors are restless, and the traders are already finding ways to twist your story to their benefit."

Nnamdi raised a hand. "In my defense, the story does have value. And people love a good mystery."

Ikenna, quiet as always, finally spoke. "They're waiting, Obinna. The moment you stepped out of that trial alive, the village stopped seeing you as just another man." His dark eyes locked onto Obinna's. "They're watching to see if you will rise… or fall."

Obinna exhaled. He had known this. But hearing it from them made it real.

He looked at each of them—Ekene, the warrior who would fight for him without hesitation. Ikenna, the strategist who saw what others missed. Nnamdi, the merchant who could make people believe in anything.

Three men—Friends from three different clans. Yet here they stood, waiting for him to speak.

"What do you want from me?" he asked finally.

Ekene scoffed. "That's the wrong question. The right one is—what do you want?"

Obinna leaned forward. "I want Aku to be stronger. Not just in war, but in knowledge, in trade, in unity. We have spent too long divided by our own meager interests."

Nnamdi hummed. "And how do you plan to do that? You think Akaibute will suddenly embrace change? That Akutala will listen to anything other than strength? That Ejuona will move for anything but wealth?"

Obinna's jaw tightened. "Then I will give them what they need."

Ekene immediately looked excited, his grin widening. "Now that's the Obinna I know."

Ikenna nodded. "The elders will not accept change easily. But they will accept results."

"And how do you plan to show them results?" Nnamdi asked, arms crossed. "Wealth? Power? Stories?"

Obinna met his gaze. "All three."

A moment of silence. Then, laughter.

Ekene slapped his knee. "Now I see why we followed you into battle."

Nnamdi smirked. "I'd follow you into business, but I still expect a share of the profits."

Ikenna, ever thoughtful, simply nodded. "Then let's begin."

Obinna smiled.

It was good to know that he wasn't alone in this.

And that meant he could truly start.

Ekene leaned back, resting his weight on his arms. His smirk faded, replaced by something else—curiosity.

"Obinna," he said, voice quieter than before, "what did you see?"

Obinna met his friend's gaze, then glanced at Ikenna and Nnamdi. They were all waiting for his answer.

They wanted to know what lay beyond, what secrets the spirit world had revealed to him.

But the truth?

There was nothing on the other side.

Not for him, at least.

He had not spoken with the Spirits or the Ancestors. He had not glimpsed the afterlife.

But he had seen something far more terrifying.

Not spirits.

Not gods.

History.

A future that was already written.

He saw men who did not belong to this land, carving it up as if it were theirs. He saw them arrive first as traders, speaking honeyed words and making promises of wealth.

Then as missionaries, preaching a new faith and condemning the old. And finally, as conquerors, taking what they desired by force.

He saw knowledge fading—stories once passed through generations lost, traditions erased, names changed until they no longer held meaning.

He saw the land stripped bare, not just of its riches but of its soul.

And above all… he saw the inevitability of it.

No matter how many battles they won, no matter how strong their warriors were, no matter how wealthy their traders became, this future would come.

Unless something changed.

Unless he changed it.

"Obinna?"

Nnamdi's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

They were still watching him, waiting.

He could not explain it exactly as he had seen it. They would not understand words like 'Europe' or 'colonialism.' They had no concept of steam engines, rifles, or Christian missionaries.

So he exhaled slowly and spoke in a way they could understand.

"I saw a future where we are forgotten."

Ekene frowned. "What?"

"I saw people like us, people who look like us, who speak like us—but they do not remember who they are. Their tongues are not their own. Their gods are not their own. Their land is not their own."

A silence fell over them.

Ikenna was the first to break it. "You speak of a war?"

Obinna shook his head. He wasn't surprised that he understood it that way. "Not a war of swords and spears. A war of knowledge. A war of words. A war of faith."

Nnamdi's brow furrowed. "I do not understand."

Obinna leaned forward, his expression grave.

"Tell me," he said, "what makes a man strong?"

Ekene snorted as he leaned in and crossed his arm. "His fists."

Nnamdi chuckled. "His wealth."

Ikenna, ever thoughtful, said nothing.

Obinna nodded. "And what happens when a man is strong, but does not know his own strength? When he is rich, but does not know how to use his wealth? When he is powerful, but does not understand what he is fighting for?"

Nnamdi frowned. "Then he is a fool."

"Yes," Obinna said. "And a fool is the easiest to control."

The realization settled over them like a heavy weight.

Obinna continued, his voice steady.

"The greatest weapon our enemies will use is not the sword. It is ignorance. If we do not know ourselves—our history, our land, our people—then we will be nothing when the storm comes."

Ikenna finally spoke. "So what do we do?"

Obinna's gaze hardened. "We learn."

Ekene raised a brow. "Learn what?"

"Everything."

He gestured at Nnamdi. "The merchants must learn how to trade, not just among ourselves, but beyond. We must understand how wealth moves, how it is controlled, and how it can be used against us."

He turned to Ekene. "The warriors must learn more than just how to fight. They must understand strategy, discipline, patience. A battle is not won by strength alone, but by knowing your enemy before the fight even begins."

Finally, he looked at Ikenna. "And the thinkers, those like you, must write, must teach. We must not let our knowledge be forgotten."

Nnamdi exhaled, rubbing his forehead. "You speak of many things, Obinna, but to what end? Even if we do all this, even if we prepare, what is it for?"

Obinna's fingers curled into his palm. "To build something greater."

Ekene scoffed. "Greater than what?"

Obinna looked at them, his voice firm.

"A nation."

The word hung in the air, foreign yet they felt it carried a heavy meaning.

Ekene narrowed his eyes. "A… what?"

"A nation," Obinna repeated. "A land not just of villages that fight among themselves. Not just of clans that think only of their own. A land where we stand together, as one."

Nnamdi crossed his arms, confusion written all over his face. "And how is that different from what we are now?"

Obinna's gaze sharpened.

"What are we now?" he asked.

Silence.

Ekene shifted slightly in his position "We are Aku."

"And what is Aku?"

"A town," Ikenna said. "Made of villages."

"Yes. Villages that trade with each other, fight with each other, make peace with each other. But what happens when an enemy stronger than us arrives? When an enemy does not see Umuoji, or Umunri, or Ogene, but only land to take and people to rule?"

Ekene's expression darkened.

"We fall," Ikenna said quietly.

Obinna nodded.

"If we remain as we are, divided by old grudges, ruled by different interests, we will fall. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But surely, the day will come."

Nnamdi was watching him closely now, no longer smiling. "And you think this… nation is the answer?"

"I don't think... I know it is the only answer," Obinna said. "We must become something greater than what we are. Not just warriors. Not just traders. Not just clans. We must be one."

Ekene exhaled. "That sounds impossible."

"Perhaps," Obinna admitted with a smile. "But if we do nothing, then we are already lost."

Ikenna studied him for a moment. "And you believe we can do this?"

Obinna met his gaze. "I believe we must."

Silence stretched between them.

Then, Ekene let out a short laugh. "You always did have the wildest ideas."

Nnamdi sighed, shaking his head. "Madness. But…" He smirked. "Maybe not the worst madness I've heard."

Ikenna simply nodded. "If we do this, we must start now."

Obinna smiled.

"So..? Where do we start?"