We have a traitor — Excerpt
I followed papa into our Obu and he sat on a seat which he had made with clay, I stood adjacent to him. Our Obu looked quite threatening; papa had taught me that everything there was sacred. All the images of our known ancestors were carved inside it, and their spirits were said to have been invoked into them. “They could hear you” papa would sometimes say. Anojulu was the last spirit to be invoked there; I was present during the invocation. He was rumored to have been killed by Okutalukwe, the then king of Umuekwe.
Papa had been born when Anojulu lived; he had also told me many legendary stories about him.
“… and after the oath, the best of us did not return.” This was how papa ended the story of Anojulu. He also told me that the brave man was killed by my grandfather, his own father, who was the chief priest of our land at that time. It was his gift to Okutalukwe for not telling the people that he, as a chief priest once raped a madwoman a night before he declared the new yam festival.
The chief priest was supposed to starve from sex, three days before he performed important and sacred rituals. It was a necessary sacrifice to be made by the chief priest. It is the Igbo belief that no hunter picks up a dead lion in his compound. So in such days, the wife or wives of the chief priests were taken away so that he could focus only on the sacred. But unfortunately, within the time limit, he needed a woman to make love to and he stooped so low to eat grass. Ogadi, the madwoman, was normally seen begging for food at the market and picking dirt during the daytime. She was rumored to be sleeping under the popular orange tree towards the entrance of the market. Okutalukwe caught them in the act and demanded nothing else except the throne.
“Ikwelle, my father, spilled so much precious blood. He used his power to get everything he wanted; he betrayed Ogbuli many times and took the peoples’ trust for granted. He was loved by many because he lived most of his life with lots of untold truths. He was a demon. I have sworn never to be like him and that was why I changed my name to Ikegbunam - may I not be blinded by my strength. I tell you these things so you know why you must be like your own father.” Those were the words of papa; the words of a man who had compassion for his own people. He still respected his own father, and no other ear heard from his mouth the evil deeds of his father but he wasn’t so proud of him.
Papa still adored Anojulu whenever he entered our Obu. For almost a minute after we entered the Obu, he remained calm. His fist was under his wrapper. He sat like someone in despair, or should I say regret.
“Odina, courage is legendary.” I kept looking at him as I still couldn’t understand him.
“Do you remember a few years ago when we nearly fought a deadly war with Aroka kingdom?” I nodded; his words began making a little sense to me. “Umuekwe kingdom jubilated that the pending war with one of the most powerful kingdoms of our time didn’t hold again, but I stopped the war! Ogbuli stopped the war!! Yes, we stopped the war!!!” I became confused again, and it seemed he noticed.
“What concerned the war with what happened this morning at Obizoba’s compound?” I asked curiously and politely too. Papa signed in regret.
“Surely I know our king won’t give birth because I sacrificed the lineage of our king, Igwe Ejiama to Ogbuli in return for peaceful coexistence of the two kingdoms. Yes, I had to. We chose the lesser evil, the king was oblivious of that, but we had very little or no chance of winning the war and that was the price we had to pay. Ogbuli also warned us not to go for the war.” I was so shocked because the king had visited papa some market days ago begging for a male child and papa kept assuring him that he would do something.
Papa sighed again, “I convinced Ogbuli that the next king of Umuekwe kingdom would be the first child of Obizoba.” Then, everything became clear to me. Papa had wanted to reward Obizoba’s allegiance and friendship, he had gone with that old bag to dedicate his first child to Ogbuli.
Papa then raised his head to the sky, his already reddish eyes becoming watery.
“A woman will not rule this Land. No, a woman will not.” The tears dropped down his cheeks and he closed both eyes. Papa tapped my left shoulder twice and said again, “courage is legendary… I did what I had to, I got rid of the baby.” This time I knew he had killed the child already. I was a bit confused because the baby was still alive when we left.
He was still talking to me when we heard sounds of cries coming towards our compound. I looked out and saw Obizoba with his dead child and some sympathizers who were crying heavily and coming to know if Ikuku would help them. Papa sighed again. “Wait here”, he said to me and went towards them.
Excerpt from We Have a Traitor by Benedict Ezumezu.
Available for purchase on Amazon, Okada Books, and Selar.
