Authors: Njedeh Anthony
“If it is double the dowry you want, then I will provide it for you,” Obi replied,
not wanting to leave with a wounded pride.
“I don't think he means what he is saying,” the
oldest relative interrupted.
“I mean exactly what I say.”
“So that is settled,” Ikpong said before turning and clapping his hands. “Tell Amina to come here.”
Facing them again he said, “I wish I could bring Amina's mother here, but I do not want to disgrace your humble presence by calling my concubine to your view.”
“Are you trying to tell me that your first daughter, is the daughter of a concubine?” the oldest relative yelled.
“Of course not. The general of our province came for her hand two sunsets ago, and who am I to resist such a man of prestige.” Ikpong said proudly.
“But you had already agreed to give the girl to Obi. Why would you choose to give her to his own brother
?” the older sister's husband snarled.
“That is the stupidest question any man has ever asked me. Odagwe is
general now and very soon he will be chief. Apart from that, he possesses two qualities that I like—he is rich and he has power.”
They all stood looking at Ikpong
, the words trapped in their mouths.
“I really do not see what the problem is here. Before I accepted the dowry from your brother, I told him you had already asked for her hand in marriage and he said that had nothing to do with him.”
“You men should forget about my first daughter. See the beauty in Amina. Her mother was given to me by an Arabian who sought my help in the possession of slaves. At first I chose to refuse him because she was his concubine, but then sight of the woman was irresistible. If you get to know her, you will forget she is not one of us.”
“Am I to understand that you want Obi to marry these people? Maybe you are not aware that strength of the people of Utagba lies in our darkened roots
,’’ the oldest relative fumed, looking at the half-Arabian girl. “The annoying thing is, you brought this poor excuse for a woman to our presence because you have put us all on the same level. In fact, how dare you bring the daughter of a concubine to be our bride? It’s been awhile, but I smell blood.”
“The dowry of any commoner’s daughter is less than a quarter of your dowry,” Obi’s
in-law blurted.
“I admit you are slick negotiators. We will use the former dowry we agreed on.”
“You openly insult us. You bring this child of a concubine and you expect us to pay a dowry for her,” the oldest relative said, shaking with anger.
Amina stood without making a sound, her head down and tears falling from her cheeks
as she listened to her devaluation as a human being.
When the tears touched the floor, it was as though they awakened Obi’s spirit. He looked at the beauty she held and refused to give
her away.
“
Wise old man, you are quick to lose your temper. How can I even imagine giving such a wench to a son of Utagba? Actually, I wanted her to prepare the road for my other daughter, the first daughter from her mother. She is truly a rare human being and her dowry will remain the same with what I agreed with Obi's father.”
“That is generous of you, Ikpong, but we are no longer interested. We shall take our leave,” Obi said.
All four men got up and started leaving. Ikpong followed the men and tried begging, but he did not know the words to use. As the men stepped outside and started arranging their departure, Obi looked back into the house and saw Amina standing in the same place. As though his glance touched her, she raised her head and looked back into his eyes. That was all it took. In a month’s time, the marriage ceremony between Obi and Amina had begun.
The marriage was a day of bliss, but nothing too flamboyant. Most of the crowd came to dance, eat, and say goodbye to the girl they once knew because she belonged to another man. Obi’s sisters, brothers-in-law, relatives and representatives of Utagba were present, but they all objected to him getting married to the daughter of a concubine.
Although the
elders never showed themselves in the burial of an Ikaza, it didn't prevent them from being present at an Ikaza's daughter's marriage. Also, her suitor paid an outrageously high dowry for her hand, which made everyone curious to see the Arabian’s daughter. Obi could have paid a lesser dowry, but he chose to pay double the amount to let the world know she was worth the fortunes of a man's land.
The ceremony involved throwing alcohol on the ground by the elders and blessing the ground where the union was taking place. Then the father of the bride
stated, in the presence of everyone, the way he required the groom to take care of his daughter. Afterward, the groom was blindfolded and a stream of coquettes led by his mother-in-law came in claiming to be his bride, but he rejected their advances with a smile. If Obi had accepted any of their advances, then he would have lost his bride even though her father had already taken the dowry.
At the end of the occasion
, Amina followed her husband and waved goodbye to her mother. As much as the mother was sad that her daughter was leaving, she was happy for her, too. Amina had never seen her mother smile and walk with so much pride. The day was the best in her life because it helped her mother realize she was special.
Chapter 4
King Nwosa's palace was crowded with men of all kinds, of different races and places, waiting to see him. As the King’s mother passed everyone, with Okonjo and her servant behind her, all of them bowed. All the foreigners had quickly learned the customs, a necessary knowledge for those seeking certain possessions. Also, it was no secret that Gbangba cut the head off a white man who approached him with disrespect. Since then, everybody was positive the whites could live and die like anyone else.
As
the mother got to the chambers of the King, the Omees tried to stop her from passing through the doors, begging her to let them announce her presence, but she ignored everyone around her until she got to her son.
He was talking with the envoy
of the Didasu Kingdom and the Ishu priest, who succeeded the Ogun priest, who died of old age. He saw his mother and totally ignored her entry and discharged the Didasu envoy. The envoy bowed to the King and then the King-Mother before leaving. The King stared at the Omees who let his mother pass through as they lay flat on the ground, begging for mercy for being lax in their duties. He waved his hands, and they thanked him and went out the door.
The King’s chamber had cushioned seats from animal skins. Tree trunks elevated his throne and the stairway leading up the throne was made of skeletons. Crafts hung on the walls and the entire floor had the softness of animal fur.
His mother began to sit but he told her, while staring lustfully at her servant, “I did not offer you a seat.”
She got up, snapped her fingers
, and pointed to the ground. Her servant went down on her hands and knees and she sat on her.
“Mother, I really do not think where you are sitting is comfortable. You may now take a seat,” the
King growled.
“I am comfortable where I am,” the
King-Mother replied.
“I was actually referring to the welfare of that sweet little girl you are sitting on. If you crave to sit on someone's back, let me get an
Omee that you can torture.”
“Save your manly needs for another day, we have come here on a matter of great importance.”
The King-Mother directed Okonjo to sit as she spoke, but he knew better and claimed satisfaction in his standing posture.
“You better have something worth talking about or else—
”
“Or else what? I carried you for nine months in my belly and till today you have not brought pride to my weak heart.
What I have to say to you is for your ears only.”
“Mother, save the melodramatic statements. You are awa
re that the Ishu priest is the Headman to the Oracle and he is the High Chief.”
“I know he is a High Chief. I know there are only three men in the kingdom that can be High Chief. I know they are the Head-Of-Government, Okpalaukwu and the Headman to the Oracle
. But as I said before, what I have to say is for your ears only.”
At that point the King wondered where
was the Okpalaukwu, the oldest chief in the kingdom. “I trust his loyalty over that of your spoiled sister’s child, Okonjo,” the King retorted pointing at her nephew.
“Okonjo
is the reason I am here. The servant with me is deaf and dumb, so you can forget about her. It has come to my knowledge that you were supposed to marry Aneaton's sister.”
“Yes, so please do not tell me that is why you came.”
“Were you sleeping with her?”
“Mother, maybe you are not aware of the seriousness of the position I carry.”
“Were you sleeping with her?”
“No, no, no
. I was supposed to marry her then I saw her sister. Since I married Aneaton, I have not laid eyes on her. Why are you asking me these questions?”
As Okonjo stood there during the
mother's interrogation, he feared he was going to lose his head at the hands of his King for spreading unfounded information.
“Okonjo showed me her sister’s child. He looks, walks, and talks like you,” the
King-Mother said.
“Are you sure of what you are saying
, mother?”
“When Okonjo told me, I wanted to personally castrate him, but I decided to see this man myself.
So we dressed like commoners and went to his wedding at Ozuoba. From afar I saw this young man and I had to admit he looked like you from the distance. Then when I stood right in front of him and he asked me, ‘Are you a relative of the bride?’ I could swear he was you when you were younger and I fainted. My blood is in his veins.”
“Okonjo, thank you for your observation. We will get in contact with you.” The
King’s hand drummed on his lap. Okonjo bowed and left.
“It is not possible
,’’ the King said. “The Ogun priest did the ritual personally.”
“The young man was born at the same period as Aneaton's son. His head is oval like yours, he has the same birthmark underneath his chin like you and his eyes are deep like yours,” the
King-Mother added.
“When the Ogun priest took the child, where was the sister?” the Ishu priest
asked.
“She was with her sister
,” the King replied, rubbing his chin. “He can't possibly be my child. Or are you trying to tell me the women exchanged their children?”
“That can be the only reason for the gods not telling us anything about the future. They did not get their sacrifice,” the Ishu priest said.
“What are you saying?” The King screamed for his messenger. When he came, the King asked, “Where is Arubi? I told you when the day was younger, to tell him to come.”
“The
Head-of-Government is on his way, Your Majesty.”
“Who exactly is this boy?”
“His supposed father was an Ikaza with a good reputation and his supposed mother was your former wife's sister,” his mother answered.
“You keep referring to his parents with the term
supposed
. I find that uncomfortable and I have never heard of an Ikaza with a good reputation.”
Just
then, his round-faced, dark-skinned Head-of-Government entered the room, bowing as he got near the King.
“My superlative King, forgive me for making you wait for a man as unworthy as I, but the day was in the hands of evildoers
.”
“Forget all that, Arubi. The
King-Mother said she saw a young man who walks, talks, and looks exactly like me.”
“So what? It could be coincidental or just a game the gods chose to play
.”
“My mother and the Ishu priest are under the impression that the young man is my son. They think he was Aneaton's sister's child and he was born in the same period as the child the Ogun priest killed
.”
“If Aneaton's sister was in her palace
on the same day her sister was killed and the children were supposed to be of the same age, then something is wrong. No woman who has just given birth to a child would leave the child behind,” the Head-of-Government said.
“Precisely. She di
d not leave the child behind—they switched both of them. That is why the Ogun priest did not notice,” the Ishu priest surmised.
“Okay, let us imagine he was my son…so
...”
“Sire, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. With all due respect, the heir is weak and that gives you peace of mind. If the people know this newcomer is your son, a new heir will emerge and that makes him immune to any crime
—including assassinating you,’’ the Head-of-Government said, leaning back in his lion-skinned chair. “The boy could be aware that he is your son, which I doubt, or else the whole kingdom would have known by now. If this information leaks, all your enemies will want to make contact with him and form an alliance with him. Not to mention the defiance that will come from your chiefs and elders. Take it from me, they will be fighting from a solid foundation because the people will back him. They want a King who can walk, talk and look like a King.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
the King asked.
“Depends on the town he lives in. How come nobody ever noticed he looked like the
King?”
“Well
, Arubi,” the King-Mother said, calling him by his name to provoke him, “the boy has lived most of his life away from towns because his
supposed father
was an Ikaza. Since the death of the man, he has been taking care of the land and expanding it. The people he comes across don't notice the similarity because they only see the King from a distance. Although they say he is a very good friend of Gbangba, the reason his friend might never have noticed could probably be their growing up together, so he never noticed any similarities.”
“Sire, I feel we should first eliminate any means of this information getting out publicly and then kill the boy in the most accidental manner possible,” the
Head-of-Government suggested.
The King looked at the Ishu priest. “What do you think?”
“I agree. The commoners are ready to make anybody who can walk and talk the next King. Your son lacks the power to invigorate the men of the King’s court to stay together.”
“Mother, what do you think?”
“You have to realize that you killed this young man's mother.”
“I did not tell the Ogun priest to kill her.”
“But he did. If the boy is aware of what happened, his adulation for her will be deep and he will have to avenge her death.
The boy grew up without a single pinch of emotion for you; someday he will not hesitate to take your life.”
“Don't you people think you are
exaggerating? This boy might not even know, and even if he does, do you think he can even get close to me, not to mention killing me?”
“We can't take chances, Your Majesty,” the
Head-of-Government replied.
“Sire, if your mother died the way his mother died, would you not avenge her?” the Ishu priest asked.
“Arubi, do what you have to do, but nobody should know except the people in this room.”
“What about the girl your mother is sitting on?” the
Head-of-Government asked.
“You don't have to bother about her
—she is deaf and dumb—but you might have to dispose of Okonjo because he is aware of everything.”
“May the gods forbid,’’ his mother said. “Why do you want to touch my sister's son? That boy has been more of a son to me than you have ever attempted to be.”
“I send my sympathy. He has to die. This regards the security of the
King…your son.” There was bitterness in the Head-of-Government's response.
“I understand, but if you feel he has to die, then you also have to consider me a means of insecurity and I should be dealt with in the same order as Okonjo.”
“That won't be a problem. We would lay the two of you side by side after your execution,” the Head-of-Government said indifferently.
“Mother, you were strong on emphasizing your grandson should die, even though the boy doesn’t know a thing about me. But Okonjo, who is not trustworthy…you are ready to die for him to live.”
“So you want to replace his good deed of giving you this information with punishment.”
“If he ever whispers anything concerning this issue to anyone—”
The King was cut off by the Head-of-Government.
“But Sire.”
“I am still talking,” the King snapped. “I will wipe out his generation. You all know what you have to do. Now leave me, I want to see my art.”
He left them and told the messengers to inform the men waiting for him to come the next day. He entered the
Art Room and admired the crafts of men of talent. He ran his hands across the bronze lion that was staring him in the face. Then he went to the area of the room with sculptures of the heads of kings and stopped at his grandfather's head…King Anawanti. Then he saw his father's sculpture, King Burobee, and his past haunted him.
All to remain in power, I killed my father and now I am going to let them kill my son again. It would have been nice to have a strong fit son to teach the way of a
King, but that I can't risk at the expense of a knife at my back. They all rejoice at my handicapped heir. They want someone they can tell what to do. I have to admit it feels good to sleep at night without thinking of my son planning to kill me like I did to my father. If these men succeed in getting rid of this boy, the kingdom would definitely be divided at my death. That would be a pity.
*
Obi and his wife had been in their home for three weeks and happiness was within. He lived everyday not wanting it to pass. He never wanted her to follow him to the farm, but she had a stubborn spirit and chose to help him any way she could. The emptiness that used to consume him disappeared; the pain of life had found its way into a distant world. He started singing folk songs with her and acting in plays like a child with her. Every time he held her, his grasp was tight because he did not want to lose her. He never ever wanted to lose her. On the few occasions they went to town, he was cautious of any man who made contact with his wife.