The darkness looms over Aninta,
From the thick woods to the great river,
The town crier's shrill voice rings out,
Deep words proceeding from his mouth.
Then silence descends upon the clan,
On the pathways you will find no man,
All have retired to their huts,
Fearful of the wrath of the gods.
Patiently the vexed gods have waited,
And their longsuffering sorely tested,
Harshly the offenders will fare,
For it's time for Surugede.
Surugede is the dance of death,
When the gods pour out their fiery breath,
Loud thundering roar from the sky,
Deities gather, the clan to try.
Tonight the gods walk upon the earth,
The time of judgment has now been set,
For long they've been denied their due,
Their victims will be left to rue.
Grim gods and goddesses lead the way,
E'en the ancestors join in the fray,
The coarse laughter of the undead
Through the entire clan can be heard.
On this night no mortal dares come out,
Lest they face the spirits in a bout,
Alas the scary dance begins,
None partakes save the immortals.
This is a sort of prelude to the short story that'll be hitting this blog in various chapters soon.
Wednesday, 7 May 2014
THE GODS' VENGEANCE
Uduma’s compound was just at the edge of the woods. He was hardly ever involved in the boisterous side of the life of his people; the Aninta clan. The few friends he had thinned considerably when some strange and sudden illness took the lives of his wife and two sons. It had been a most unfortunate circumstance that forced him to further withdraw to himself. He became a source of gossip among idle folks who believed his misfortune was surely occasioned by the gods of Aninta. How else could a man lose his entire family in one day if he wasn’t being punished by the deities?
Whatever such people said, they dared not say it to his face. Who would risk that when his short temper was known in the fifteen villages of Aninta and beyond? Uduma flared at the slightest provocation. On many a night when she was still alive, the wailing of his wife Matefi could be heard even across the woods to the Nkanu village of the Umuogwugwu clan. Once during a land dispute hearing he had punched the lights out of the fellow laying claim to his land and threatened to cut him down with a machete if he ever set foot on the disputed land. That had settled the matter as the poor fellow Okoye promptly withdrew his claim to the land.
No one would tell him what they truly thought was the cause of his troubles. But even he knew he was further isolated from his people. Being an only child just like his father, he didn’t have close relatives. Of late he had been considering leaving Aninta for his late mother’s clan Isike. Maybe he would make the journey when the rains had come. Hopefully the gods of his mother’s clan would look upon him with more favour than the gods of his own clan.
Every man in Aninta was a farmer. One either cultivated his own farm or leased land from the wealthy to farm on temporarily. One could also hunt or fish in addition to farming. Uduma had always hunted in the Amawu woods that separated his clan from Umuogwugwu. There was an area deeper into the woods marked as the ‘evil forest’ where twins and diseased bodies were thrown away to either be devoured by wild beasts or to die and rot away. His wife and sons had been thrown into this forest. Another set of people who took up residence in this evil forest were the osus or the castaways. These were men, women and children who had been claimed by any of the several deities among the Olu and Ibo folk. Such were under the protection of the gods and were alienated from the clans. Also no one ever had any dealings with them or harmed them for fear of incurring the wrath of their owners. They rarely ever left the woods and some believed they rescued and raised twins who had been cast into the evil forest which was their abode. One became an osu if when in danger from a fellow clansman the person went to the shrine of a deity for protection. After pledging perpetual servitude for himself and his descendants, he would mark himself on the arms and toes. Whoever was after him called off his pursuit immediately as an osu ceased to be an ordinary mortal.
Uduma cleaned his dane gun and slung it across his back. Taking his machete as well, he made his way to the woods hoping to catch some game. It was the first time he would go hunting for over seven market weeks and not since he’d lost his family. For some reason the gods seemed to favour him as he had not been long in the woods when he saw a small antelope some distance away. Taking careful aim, he shot at the creature and it fell down, kicked a little and was dead. Something else was wrong however; he had heard another shot fired almost at the same time he’d fired his. Just a few metres away from him a figure was on a tree with a rifle. He watched in disgust as the figure jumped down and moved towards the carcass. He was a young lad of no more than eighteen and from his servitude marks and his long, bushy hair, Uduma saw that he was an osu. That was another distinguishing mark; they never cut their hair. “Where are you going?” Uduma asked with the irritation mounting on his face. The lad replied with indifference. ‘Chike goes to take his kill.’ The osus spoke in that manner. Uduma spoke again, this time through clenched teeth. “I shot that animal so young man, better go and look for another.” Chike merely laughed and continued on his way. “I am warning you now!” Uduma thundered. By then Chike was standing in front of the carcass. ‘What will you do?’ he asked defiantly and then picked up the dead animal. “Drop it now!” ‘No’ “I said; drop it!” ‘No’ the lad replied again and started laughing. A gunshot sounded, swiftly cutting off the laughter. In a moment Chike was lying on the ground, clutching his stomach where the shot had wounded him. His face was torn between shock and pain as he gazed at his assailant. There was hate in Uduma's eyes as he steadily approached the bleeding lad. He pointed the gun at him again and spoke softly. “I warned you, didn’t I?” Chike as visibly terrified and blood gushed out of his mouth as he spoke. ‘Please, please don’t kill Chike.’ He was also weeping profusely. Another shot rang out and he was silenced, forever. Uduma cast one last glance at him after carrying the antelope. The lad’s eyes were still open and they seemed to be pleading for the mercy he never received.
Uduma was lying on the bamboo bed inside his hut; he had just finished his supper of yams and roast antelope. For the first time since he got home he thought about the lad he had killed that morning. He wondered if it had been wise to leave his body there without burying it. He however shrugged it off, after all no one could prove he was the killer. He hadn’t encountered any others while going and on his way back. Then the thought he’d been trying hard to suppress all day crept up once more. It was that small issue of the dead lad not being a mere mortal but an osu, a property of a deity. What if his owner comes looking for vengeance? Uduma sprang up as a shiver ran down his spine. Every morning before leaving his compound he usually poured libation to his ancestors in the family shrine, asking them to watch over him and protect him from evil. But were they powerful enough to protect him from a deity’s vengeance? He had another thought that calmed him somewhat. What more could the gods do to him than they had done already? With that he reclined on the bed once more, ready to drift to sleep.
He had slept for a few hours when a loud thunder strike startled him. He woke up with a start and sat up slowly while his wit gradually returned to him. The oil lamp gave some sort of illumination to the room. Another thunder struck and he jumped in some alarm. “How can it rain in the dry season?” The third one threw him to the floor and at the same time flung the oil lamp to the thatch roof which promptly caught fire. He made to run out of the hut but the door was stuck. He kept hitting it and shouting for help while the roof burned. Pieces of burning thatch fell on the bamboo bed and it caught fire too. The door also started burning as he continued yelling and stamping on it. Eventually he broke it down just in time before the flames consumed him. In the compound there were four huts, his Obi and the family shrine and because their roofs almost touched they were all in flames. He made to run toward the water storage pots to dry and salvage what he could but on his way, tripped over a stone and fell facedown to the hard earth. He was bleeding from two cuts on his face and couldn’t stand as his ankle was sprained. It was then realized what was happening. He remembered the adage of his people; ‘when a man gathers firewood infested with then he must be prepared for the visit of the lizards.’ Surely the deity he had offended by killing Chike had visited him with vengeance. Something seemed to hit him on the head from behind and he passed out.
When he came to, it was daylight and he was surrounded by many of his clansmen, women and children. His entire compound had been totally burnt down and smoke was still ascending from the ruins. He suddenly started laughing much to the bewilderment of the onlookers. He stopped Ifejindu the chief priest of Ani the earth goddess. ‘Get up’ the old priest said. He looked straight at Uduma. ‘Take us to him.’ Uduma got up and limped with the crowd following him. He led them to the woods where Chike’s corpse was lying. ‘How did he die?’ Ifejindu asked. “I shot him” was Uduma’s cold reply. The crowd began muttering in shock. Ifejindu cast a long look at the lad and then reached into his goatskin bag and brought out a short staff. He muttered several incantations and hit Uduma on the head with it, saying; ‘when the wood insect gathers sticks, on its head it carries them.’ Thunder struck. He hit Uduma again while saying the words; ‘whatever problems a man creates, he alone bears the consequences.’ Another thunder strike was heard. He then hit Uduma the third time. ‘You’ve taken what belongs to the gods, may their punishment be on you and you alone.’ Several thundering followed this and instantly Uduma was flung to the ground. Moments later he got up, took off all his clothes and walked deeper into the woods till he was out of sight. Ifejindu looked at the dead lad again and heaved a sigh. He then turned and left the woods with the crowd in tow, following warily behind him and muttering to themselves all the way. They knew the other osus would later come to bury their own as no other could touch him.
As for Uduma, for his crime the gods had cursed him with madness and so he wandered through the length and breadth of the evil forest for the rest of his days, never again seen by his own people.
Whatever such people said, they dared not say it to his face. Who would risk that when his short temper was known in the fifteen villages of Aninta and beyond? Uduma flared at the slightest provocation. On many a night when she was still alive, the wailing of his wife Matefi could be heard even across the woods to the Nkanu village of the Umuogwugwu clan. Once during a land dispute hearing he had punched the lights out of the fellow laying claim to his land and threatened to cut him down with a machete if he ever set foot on the disputed land. That had settled the matter as the poor fellow Okoye promptly withdrew his claim to the land.
No one would tell him what they truly thought was the cause of his troubles. But even he knew he was further isolated from his people. Being an only child just like his father, he didn’t have close relatives. Of late he had been considering leaving Aninta for his late mother’s clan Isike. Maybe he would make the journey when the rains had come. Hopefully the gods of his mother’s clan would look upon him with more favour than the gods of his own clan.
Every man in Aninta was a farmer. One either cultivated his own farm or leased land from the wealthy to farm on temporarily. One could also hunt or fish in addition to farming. Uduma had always hunted in the Amawu woods that separated his clan from Umuogwugwu. There was an area deeper into the woods marked as the ‘evil forest’ where twins and diseased bodies were thrown away to either be devoured by wild beasts or to die and rot away. His wife and sons had been thrown into this forest. Another set of people who took up residence in this evil forest were the osus or the castaways. These were men, women and children who had been claimed by any of the several deities among the Olu and Ibo folk. Such were under the protection of the gods and were alienated from the clans. Also no one ever had any dealings with them or harmed them for fear of incurring the wrath of their owners. They rarely ever left the woods and some believed they rescued and raised twins who had been cast into the evil forest which was their abode. One became an osu if when in danger from a fellow clansman the person went to the shrine of a deity for protection. After pledging perpetual servitude for himself and his descendants, he would mark himself on the arms and toes. Whoever was after him called off his pursuit immediately as an osu ceased to be an ordinary mortal.
Uduma cleaned his dane gun and slung it across his back. Taking his machete as well, he made his way to the woods hoping to catch some game. It was the first time he would go hunting for over seven market weeks and not since he’d lost his family. For some reason the gods seemed to favour him as he had not been long in the woods when he saw a small antelope some distance away. Taking careful aim, he shot at the creature and it fell down, kicked a little and was dead. Something else was wrong however; he had heard another shot fired almost at the same time he’d fired his. Just a few metres away from him a figure was on a tree with a rifle. He watched in disgust as the figure jumped down and moved towards the carcass. He was a young lad of no more than eighteen and from his servitude marks and his long, bushy hair, Uduma saw that he was an osu. That was another distinguishing mark; they never cut their hair. “Where are you going?” Uduma asked with the irritation mounting on his face. The lad replied with indifference. ‘Chike goes to take his kill.’ The osus spoke in that manner. Uduma spoke again, this time through clenched teeth. “I shot that animal so young man, better go and look for another.” Chike merely laughed and continued on his way. “I am warning you now!” Uduma thundered. By then Chike was standing in front of the carcass. ‘What will you do?’ he asked defiantly and then picked up the dead animal. “Drop it now!” ‘No’ “I said; drop it!” ‘No’ the lad replied again and started laughing. A gunshot sounded, swiftly cutting off the laughter. In a moment Chike was lying on the ground, clutching his stomach where the shot had wounded him. His face was torn between shock and pain as he gazed at his assailant. There was hate in Uduma's eyes as he steadily approached the bleeding lad. He pointed the gun at him again and spoke softly. “I warned you, didn’t I?” Chike as visibly terrified and blood gushed out of his mouth as he spoke. ‘Please, please don’t kill Chike.’ He was also weeping profusely. Another shot rang out and he was silenced, forever. Uduma cast one last glance at him after carrying the antelope. The lad’s eyes were still open and they seemed to be pleading for the mercy he never received.
Uduma was lying on the bamboo bed inside his hut; he had just finished his supper of yams and roast antelope. For the first time since he got home he thought about the lad he had killed that morning. He wondered if it had been wise to leave his body there without burying it. He however shrugged it off, after all no one could prove he was the killer. He hadn’t encountered any others while going and on his way back. Then the thought he’d been trying hard to suppress all day crept up once more. It was that small issue of the dead lad not being a mere mortal but an osu, a property of a deity. What if his owner comes looking for vengeance? Uduma sprang up as a shiver ran down his spine. Every morning before leaving his compound he usually poured libation to his ancestors in the family shrine, asking them to watch over him and protect him from evil. But were they powerful enough to protect him from a deity’s vengeance? He had another thought that calmed him somewhat. What more could the gods do to him than they had done already? With that he reclined on the bed once more, ready to drift to sleep.
He had slept for a few hours when a loud thunder strike startled him. He woke up with a start and sat up slowly while his wit gradually returned to him. The oil lamp gave some sort of illumination to the room. Another thunder struck and he jumped in some alarm. “How can it rain in the dry season?” The third one threw him to the floor and at the same time flung the oil lamp to the thatch roof which promptly caught fire. He made to run out of the hut but the door was stuck. He kept hitting it and shouting for help while the roof burned. Pieces of burning thatch fell on the bamboo bed and it caught fire too. The door also started burning as he continued yelling and stamping on it. Eventually he broke it down just in time before the flames consumed him. In the compound there were four huts, his Obi and the family shrine and because their roofs almost touched they were all in flames. He made to run toward the water storage pots to dry and salvage what he could but on his way, tripped over a stone and fell facedown to the hard earth. He was bleeding from two cuts on his face and couldn’t stand as his ankle was sprained. It was then realized what was happening. He remembered the adage of his people; ‘when a man gathers firewood infested with then he must be prepared for the visit of the lizards.’ Surely the deity he had offended by killing Chike had visited him with vengeance. Something seemed to hit him on the head from behind and he passed out.
When he came to, it was daylight and he was surrounded by many of his clansmen, women and children. His entire compound had been totally burnt down and smoke was still ascending from the ruins. He suddenly started laughing much to the bewilderment of the onlookers. He stopped Ifejindu the chief priest of Ani the earth goddess. ‘Get up’ the old priest said. He looked straight at Uduma. ‘Take us to him.’ Uduma got up and limped with the crowd following him. He led them to the woods where Chike’s corpse was lying. ‘How did he die?’ Ifejindu asked. “I shot him” was Uduma’s cold reply. The crowd began muttering in shock. Ifejindu cast a long look at the lad and then reached into his goatskin bag and brought out a short staff. He muttered several incantations and hit Uduma on the head with it, saying; ‘when the wood insect gathers sticks, on its head it carries them.’ Thunder struck. He hit Uduma again while saying the words; ‘whatever problems a man creates, he alone bears the consequences.’ Another thunder strike was heard. He then hit Uduma the third time. ‘You’ve taken what belongs to the gods, may their punishment be on you and you alone.’ Several thundering followed this and instantly Uduma was flung to the ground. Moments later he got up, took off all his clothes and walked deeper into the woods till he was out of sight. Ifejindu looked at the dead lad again and heaved a sigh. He then turned and left the woods with the crowd in tow, following warily behind him and muttering to themselves all the way. They knew the other osus would later come to bury their own as no other could touch him.
As for Uduma, for his crime the gods had cursed him with madness and so he wandered through the length and breadth of the evil forest for the rest of his days, never again seen by his own people.
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