Yefon: The Red Necklace (28 page)

No answer came, but I fell asleep and I had a vision. There was a room before me with many girls seated in it. All of them had shaved heads, and so did I. I was among them. I wasn’t wearing my
sha
η
g
. I tried to look around, there were no trees around us, neither were there animals or other people. Only walls.

I awakened suddenly. At first, I was unsure what had awakened me or whether I was still dreaming, but I noticed immediately that my
mbve’
was flooded with an astonishing celestial light. Had I not put out the fire, I wondered, or was this real? I looked around.

Standing next to me was a woman who was the source of the light. She was wearing a long gown and possessed such beauty that I was struck dumb at first. I couldn’t see her face clearly, but it was shaped like a heart, and her dark skin glowed with light.

It took me a whole minute to realize I was not dreaming, and I wondered if this was
Ngonnso
.

“Yes, daughter of the land,” she responded. I pinched myself, thinking that this must be a dream in a dream.

“You are not dreaming,” she said laughing.

I fumbled for a few minutes before finding the strength to sit up. “Are you
Ngonnso
?” I asked.

There came that lovely laugh again, low and sweet. In my heart, I immediately thought to myself how totally impossible this was.

“You wanted to know why the
sha
η
g
chose you,” she said.

I wondered if she could read my mind or something. I nodded, taking in the light, which filled me with so much peace.

“It found me too,” she said calmly.

“Why me?” I thought I would stutter when I said that, but it came out clear as day.

“History will remember you, as it did me, for what you are about to do for your people. But do not be afraid.”

“I am not.”

She chuckled. “It will get difficult, strange even, but when things are at its worst, just remember that destiny always finds its way.”

Time passed strangely; both fast, and slow. I think it must have been less than five minutes, and then I woke up.

I arrived home really late, going over the details of the story about five times in my head. A woman had appeared to me. No, not appeared. That just sounded unreal. A strange woman visited me. No, I think I was dreaming when I saw this woman. It was so unreal.

“Where are you coming from?”

I was astonished. It was Ma. “Nowhere special,” I managed to mutter, my eyes still dilating from the things I had seen.

“You think you can just sashay back into this house since you are the president’s daughter! Clap for yourself.”

I stared at her, since I assumed it was figurative but she helped me put my hands together, and asked me to clap. As I began clapping, she covered my face with a huge slap. Little stars flew around my head, and I walked past her into my room as she stayed out there talking about how much I will disgrace her.

I had a good mind to tie her up, and leave her outside in the cold, but I quickly remembered how straight Pa’s face had been a long time ago when I hit Ma back and I dropped the thought. Soon I will be in the city, living in my own nice house, so why was I even bothered by a bitter widow’s anger?

My mind raced excitedly at the thought of Pa. The next day, I was seated at his grave, telling him the story of what had happened. I imagined he would have said, “I told you, you were special.” Had he truly known this was
Ngonnso’s sha
η
g
when he
bought it for me, or was he just aware of the old legend that Kadoh had told me? Or was this whole thing a joke? It couldn’t be. I saw
Ngonnso
last night.

I never told anyone else what happened that night, but I was now sure that my life would be filled with adventure, and I was ready to delve each way because as
Ngonnso
had said, destiny must be fulfilled.

The next morning, I found out that the prince had not chosen his wife. As surprised as I was, I empathized with him. How can you pick your wife from a single dance?

Sola was brooding and would not touch her breakfast. She looked like ten men had flogged her with giant whips.

“So what happened?” I asked idly, eating some seeds that I had harvested from Ma’s garden. Kadoh sighed, and picked up one seed.

“Eh. We didn’t even see him,” she responded nonchalantly.

“You didn’t see him. But I thought....”

“Yes, he left as soon as he arrived. They told us that he had a stomach illness and they left quickly.”

“That is really sad.”

“Yes. Everyone was so angry.”

Of course, I could imagine. I would be too.

“Especially that one,” she said, pointing at Sola with her mouth. I wanted to laugh but Sola really looked disgruntled, and for whatever reason, I did not want to push it.

“So, when will he choose his wife?”

Kadoh shrugged. “I don’t know. They didn’t tell us.”

That was how the conversation ended. I could tell that Kadoh didn’t feel like sharing much by how she pursed her lips as if she was in deep thought. Maybe behind all the jokes, she wanted to marry the Prince as much as Sola did.

-19-

A BRACELET OF COWRIES

One Saturday afternoon during the dry season, I was sitting in the courtyard of our compound as Kadoh braided my hair, sweating like a pop star’s backup dancer. It was a few months after the old Fai of our family had passed, and most of my oldest cousins had married. Finally this is it! I thought to myself, this is my year. I would leave this godforsaken village this year. Lourdes College, Bamenda was my goal, and nothing was going to stop me! I had learnt so much from work and from the books that I knew the city was just waiting for me!

The occasional pulling and pinches in my hair interrupted my thoughts as Kadoh tugged this corner and that to twist my hair into neat cornrows. Kadoh had convinced me that if I let her braid my hair, she would teach me how to make the new kind of
nka’
the Wum people made. Wum-style crafted
nkas
were stronger, and would be very useful during my escape, and even if Ma died now or Yenla blew a whistle through her buttocks, there was no stopping me. I must leave. I had saved enough and would leave, no matter that.

“Now you look like a young girl, not that
chakara
^*
hairstyle you always carry around like a
ngabaa
,” Kadoh beamed proudly.

“Weh, leave my
chakara
hair alone.” I responded with a fake pout. I was not offended at all, and she knew it.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Okay, thank you. Is it nice?” I asked.

Kadoh smiled at me. “Yes. Do you want to go to the stream so you can look at it?”

“Yes, why not?” Just then Kadoh’s mother called her in.

“I am coming o,” she shouted back, and she motioned for me to wait before running inside. When she pushed aside the
kwarakwara
door, a strong smell of
khatikatih
filled the air. My tongue watered. Maybe I could beg for one? But no, she would
tell Ma and she would go on about how I was long throated as if we had no food in our house.

I looked at Ma’s hut. No one was home. They had all gone to the farm. It took a lot of convincing before Ma let me off daily chores to go to my “house girl” job at the parish years ago. I would have to contribute some money to the household, and work on the farm on Sundays. It still sounded better to me than the daily thrashing of grass.

I looked around while waiting. Frivolously, I cut off wild leaves growing on a nearby corn plant before recognizing the same group of teacher’s training students that had been at the rally passing by my compound with bags across their chests. They were making jokes amongst themselves in pure English. Was
the boy
among them, and how did I look? Quickly, I moistened my lips and wiped my face, and there he was!

“Man is the one who desires, woman is the one who is desired,” one of the boys, who I would later know to be Verla, the boy’s best friend, stated.

Immediately the boys responded. “Leopold Sedar Senghor,” and they all erupted into laughter.

“No no! This is my favorite one!” another one with a very wide nose said, holding his knees, trying to stop himself from laughing, “The problem with any unwritten law is...”

“That you don’t know where to erase it,” a deep soothing voice replied.

I suddenly felt self-conscious, and my
sha
η
g
began to glow. I immediately touched it as he looked at me and out of nervousness my wandering eye caught the bulge in his shorts. A flustering heat hit me, and then another, I looked down shyly, embarrassed by the things that were running through my mind.

Kadoh patted, I mean punched, my back and I leaped.

“Aie,” I said, looking sideways to make sure they were not still watching, but the group had already passed us.

“Are you ready?” Kadoh asked, her hands on her waist.

I smiled back, “Let’s go.”

She had a guilty smirk on her face, and so I ran my eyes over her for a moment, only to see two herpans filled with clothes hiding behind her turkey arms.

“Eh! What’s that in your hand?”

“You think I did your hair for free? Oya, come and help me wash my clothes.”

I started laughing. Hate or love Kadoh, she had a way of getting to you, and if there was one person whose clothes I’d rather wash, it would be hers.

In her own extremely bizarre and socially awkward way, she was very sweet and kind. I hadn’t told her of my plans to leave Nso for greener pastures, but I knew she was aware, especially when I asked her about the Wum
nka
s at the stream last Thursday. She had given me a Kadoh-serious-face, which looked like a smiling camel—even her serious face was hilarious. Brows bundled up so tightly,
Bantu
lips pursed at the sides, it almost looked like she was grinning, but not really. She looked like a smiling camel.

One last look at the door of Ma’s hut, and then we were off to the stream. By the entrance of our hut, a few feet away from the T-junction leading to Pa’s grave, an old man was performing a sacrifice. He carried a tied up
bvey
and shook it, muttering some words. I looked away. It was one of those things I would never understand.

“See that
wan
, wasting good palm wine in the name of sacrifice. I could be drinking that,” Kadoh said,

I looked at him till he was out of sight. The
bvey
was bleating like it knew it was going to die, and I thought of my dear Dini who was sold off to buy
nkas
for the planting season. Had she died in a sacrifice, or as
bvey
meat on a villager’s plate? Ah! I couldn’t think of the gory details. I missed Dini and I wanted to be noble and stop eating
bvey
meat in her honor, but I was too greedy to give up its savory taste. Instead, I just tried not to think about it.

“I swear. Until a god appears to me, in person and tells me my deepest secret, I won’t believe in any of that sacrifice
wahala
^*
,” I commented dryly, strolling casually in the direction of the stream, Kadoh waddling heavily behind me, with the laundry
nka’
in her hand.

Kadoh eyed me. “I know your deepest secrets.” Hesitantly, but still in a funny manner, “Shall I now appear before you and say I am a god?” she joked.

“You know my deepest secret?” I asked her. Kadoh nodded slowly. Kicking a stone, I ran with it. “So tell me,
Mami vidou
. What is it?” Vidou was the local slang for gossip.

She didn’t answer. I didn’t push her. I knew her. She knew me. That’s all that mattered to me.

At this time of the evening, the sky was a deep reddish yellow. We bypassed a whole group of sweaty girls returning from the farm, backaches showing by their gaits, and feet so dirty they could paint a wall black. We exchanged greetings casually. I didn’t really know them, and I don’t think I had ever seen them before. I was about to think they were not from our village until the one with the oblong head opened her mouth to speak about
tukuni
.

“I would take a flask full of
tu
^*
over a suitor, no matter how handsome he is,” she said to her friends.

“How will you not pick
tu
? Look at your stomach.” Kadoh muttered, under her breath.
Tu
, or potatoes, had fast become one of my favorite meals.

I laughed, and the girl looked at me. My face was straighter than a ruler. She studied me for a while then smiled, a few leaves were stuck in her teeth. I looked away, my gaze falling on Kadoh who looked in the opposite direction and made a face.

Laughing my head off, we continued our way to the stream, singing maiden songs as we went along.

The stream was unexpectedly full today, it reminded me of the small termites crowded around the parish lamp in the evening, but I thought nothing of it. If Kadoh was thinking the same thing, she didn’t mention it, but I looked around. The stream smelled like too many sweaty bodies had washed in it. I was nauseated, but Kadoh’s laundry was important.

Everyone and their mother were there. Even my troublesome half-sister, Sola, was in a corner. I even saw Yenla speaking to another girl! What was the occasion? Sola whispered something to the girl next to her, and the girl looked over at me. I ignored her and waved at Yenla, who waved back gently.

Kadoh was bullying a girl in the front of the line, trying to take her spot, and even though that was not my style, at this point, I succumbed to becoming an accomplice and carried a
herpan
full of water to our dirty heap of laundry.

“What’s going on here today?” I asked, after I had helped her get the girl to move.

We put the herpan down and began scrubbing clothes on the stone.

“The seers are coming,” Kadoh said.

“Seers?”

“It shouldn’t concern you dear. Long story short, the prince’s wife might be chosen today. Here.”

“Oh,” I said smiling. It does not concern me, I wasn’t even at the dance, and whether or not I was, it still did not concern me.