There was insistent knocking on the wooden door.
It happened twice first, four times next, and the next six
times threatened the hinges of the door which could have bellowed at Miss Connor
to pay whatever ransom she owed the assailants, if they had the voice.
She wondered who it could be at such time of the day when
most productive people were toiling away at their farms. She listened intently
for the gender of the knock, and her heart froze when it dawned on her. She put
four of the twins deep into the deepest layer of the wooden basket, covered and
muffled it for any sound, and proceeded to the door after what seemed like a
day’s sojourn at the farm. Four stocky men with menacing faces and rippling
chest muscles sauntered into the room and scanned it with eyes that seemed like
it could see beyond the physical. While she was still wondering what they came
for, a wizened, tall interpreter appeared. He spoke explicitly and factually to
her.
‘We know you are hiding things we do not want in this
village, in your house. We have explained time and again to you how we feel
regarding what you seek so much to protect. You can go to the next village or
town to liberate them; we know our gods and ancestors and they do not joke with
what they tell us. You won’t be there to bear the consequences when it begins
to happen. For peace’s sake, bring out the twins you are hiding.’
Miss Connor, coming to the realization of what this was about,
faced Idim squarely, not minding the obvious disadvantage in both gender and
stature, and irritated him with her rolly British accent. ‘What if you had come
as a twin, and faced the risk of being killed like you are so vehement on doing
now? If you can’t answer that, you have no right to raid my house in such a
manner. At any rate, I am alone for now. There is no one else here. If you are
satisfied, can you please leave my house with your henchmen?’
It took just a nod from him to get the men to work, flinging
things over while it took just one man to keep her at bay from obstructing
them, even though it wasn’t without having to endure her scratches on his arm
and ear-filling rants about who owned the house and what right they had to have
forceful access into it.
The basket was found.
It was brought into the open compound.
One after the other, eight fledgling, insanely beautiful,
pink legs and arms kicking the air innocently, were extracted from the
container, and put out in the midday sun.
The tallest two of the four men came, and one steadied
himself as the other mounted his shoulder, and stood stout and tall. One after
the other, the babies were handed to the top of the man-ladder, who released
them from that height after series of incantations. The process was repeated
until there was an inseparable mass of brains and blood splattered on the
floor, and not one of them breathing.
In the recesses of the inner room, the guard whose job
designation was to pin Miss Connor to the wall had somehow become intrigued at
how fair and supple her skin was, and his hand had left her neck to experiment
the feel of the moderate mounds on her chest, and had gone further and further,
having no problems with her weak resistance and shouts for help. He descended
on her womanhood with a mixture of curiosity and mad pleasure, and only stopped
when there seemed to be no movement from underneath him. He hastened up and
out, wondering how the others had forgotten about him.
The sun could as well burn off Meti’s back for all he cared.
He was done.
What sort of thing was this? The curse Idiko, the creator of
mankind placed on man for disobeying him could not have been as bad as this. It
was too much. He was tired, thirsty, and when he looked at how many yam mounds
he had made since morning, he almost wept. To add to his woes, his waist ached like he had been clubbed, all the
circumference of his lower back. But he would not kill himself. Kill himself,
only for someone else to come reap his labour? No way.
He reached for his
water gourd. Only three drops, when he turned it upside down.
Thankfully, there was a stream nearby.
The snake must have had some serious prior training on how
to slither through grasses without alerting anyone, thought Meti as he stopped
from giving himself generous helpings of the clear, cool stream water and
turned to see the grasses moving like they were giving way to something behind
him. He hadn’t had some snake stew in nearly two years, and the prospect of the
delicacy propelled him to lift himself quickly from the water body and pick up
his cutlass.
When he got there, the grass moved alright, but it was not a
passing animal. In the stead of the snake he so much wanted to kill and brag to
his wife about, were two of the loveliest creatures Idiko had ever created that
he had ever seen. He knew what he had felt the first day he set eyes on his
wife Eto, with that long shock of hair which got down to the small of her back,
and the exhilarating feeling he got when his first daughter was handed to him
some twenty two years ago, but he could swear by his mother’s grave that those
were nothing compared to the beauties which lay before him, eyes wide and
starry, peaceful and silent, their thumbs in their mouths, making loud slurping
noises which made it look like they were enjoying what they were doing. He bent
down to scoop them up.
A voice inside him asked him what he was doing, moments
after the novelty of the innocence of what he was seeing, wore off. He made to
drop them, but stopped to think. What kind of ancestors would forbid twins?
Were these not the same ancestors whom the priests and priestesses claimed had
their interests and protection at heart? At the behest of what he was dropping
back where he saw it, the explanations and reasons given for killing these
creatures suddenly began to lose weight, and made less and less sense to him.
What exactly was a curse about having two children who looked exactly alike?
Was that not supposed to be a blessing? Ositi had had three of them like that,
and the thugs of the shrine had set all three of them on fire before their
hapless parents. He could not understand it. But there was not a single time he
cast eyes on what was before him that the senselessness and wickedness of
killing them did not tug at his heart, without consideration. Let whatever will
happen, happen. These ones would live.
He scooped them up and headed to his farm, and waited till
it was pitch dark. He went home straight, and brushed aside every cautious question
directed at what he had brought home. Surprisingly, his entire family felt the
same way he felt about the bundles of beauty, and there was an unspoken but
water-tight bond of secrecy they all entered into that night.
‘Relax…..
‘You know I love you too much to let you throw your life in
jeopardy like this. What do you mean by that?’
‘I said relax. Don’t you trust me anymore? When I say relax,
you relax. I have everything under control.’
‘How exactly are you going to pull this off? You and I both
know you are a bad boy, a bad influence, and an undesirable person among the
village folk. How I ended up loving you this much is still a surprise to me. My
father almost sliced off your head the last time you came to our house. How do
you imagine you can convince my father to let you have my hand in marriage?’
Osa looked deep in the eyes of Itim, and felt her cheeks,
and the rush of blood to the supple fair skin was almost heard, turning her
pink instantly. He reveled in their softness and brought his face closer to
hers. ‘I told you to trust me’, the air coming from his mouth hot as he blurted
the words. He felt for the loose end of her wrapper, and tugged at it, but she
was faster. She caught hold of the item of clothing before his eyes could be
fed, and tightened it ever so well above her bosom. ‘You know we can’t do this
now’, she stuttered, and brushed her hands lightly over his bearded cheek,
disappearing that instant.
‘Itim…….’
He didn’t even get a backward glance.
The first toilet in the village of Dinki was the one in Miss
Connor’s house. Meti had used it when he had gone to deliver some maize to her
sometime ago. She had even paid some people to construct one in the market
square, the Izi’s palace, and some
select spots in the village, and ever since, people had begun to have something
similar in their houses. It consisted of a hole deep enough into the ground
which was fitted with three to four stones strategically placed, in a small
space walled round with raffia palm, and it was made very appealing to the
user. Meti had one in his house too, but somehow did not like the idea of
dropping the load in a closed space. He liked the early morning feel of the
cool breeze on his buttocks as he relieved himself, and the nearby bush close
to the farm presented a ready alternative.
Even now, as he had learnt of her gruesome death, Meti could
not help but shudder at the thought of what they called tradition and how it
was affecting them all in this village. She had been extracted from her room,
unclothed and bloodied all over, and had been thrown to the evil forest. The
priest had called her death ‘the spoils of a struggle’ and had rubbed that dark
substance all over her, amidst incantations, before turning her over to the
henchmen for disposal. But the entire
thing confused him. After Isako and his entire family died of swollen stomach
for trying to hide a set of twins, no one dared to do it anymore, for fear of
the gods. But he was ready to dare the gods on this one. How can the gods who
created them, support killing in this way? By now there was not a fibre in his
body that saw the sense in the whole thing. His children were grown, and could
farm well. What did he have to lose in the first place? Well, his wife……but who
said he would die?
A large breadfruit dropped with a loud thud behind him just
as he was cleaning himself up. When what, or rather who it was, materialized
before him, with one smile he couldn’t quite place, he reached for his cutlass.
But there seemed to be no fear in the youngster’s face, even though he stood a
respectful distance away.
‘Diiiii’, he greeted.
‘If it is about my daughter, you know the answer.’
‘But please, I love the ground that girl steps on. Don’t do
this to me. I may not be good enough, but who knows if she could change me?
When last did you hear of, or see me fight or steal? If you are honest, you
will agree that it’s quite an age. Please, I am doubly sure I can take care of
her, and I know she loves me too. Don’t deny me love, please…’
‘Even if I were to allow you on your own account, which
would still be impossible, haven’t your parents told you what they did to me?
How they stole all of my father’s inheritance? How they used their connections
with the Izi to strip my family of all they had? Please don’t come here to
re-open old wounds. Does it mean my daughter is still seeing you despite my
warnings? Leave this place this instant, before the gods descend on me for
murder…’
Osa spread-eagled himself on the grassy floor, and curled
himself in such a way that his legs became shorter than they actually were. He
put out his shortened left arm in a way that made it look like he interlocked
it with another person’s, and put his right thumb in his mouth, and closed his
eyes, sucking profusely. He would open it at intervals to wink at Meti, in the
midst of smiling lips, and continue until he felt he had appropriately passed
his message.
‘What is this? What are you doing?’
‘You see, even though I would not want to partake in any
curse on your account, I am beginning to think again about the customs you
people parade as tradition in this village. But on the other hand, I wouldn’t
do this if I didn’t have to, because I am also in love with those pretty little
things. But as it stands now, this is something I must do. I love your
daughter, and since I cannot think of any soft way of doing this, this is my
only resort. I saw you take those twins from the stream the other day. You
either allow me have my way with your daughter ,or I report you to the priest.’
The cutlass dropped from Meti’s hand.
‘Don’t go hurting Itim; she didn’t tell me. She doesn’t even
know that I know. Like I said, I would not do this if I didn’t have to. I just
hope I will not be forced to report you. Diiiii’.
Two months later, ten thugs appeared and surrounded Meti’s
compound one morning, turning the sweet maize he was chewing into mud in his
mouth on sighting them, and deciphering why they had come. He quietly
shepherded his wife and children to the back of the house while they did their
do.
‘What took you so long?’
‘What sort of question is that? Is it because I agreed to
meet you up here? It’s like you are taking my love for you for granted. Don’t
you know I have work to do? You think I am as lazy as you are, or my parents
are as wealthy as yours?’
The questions threatened to go higher and higher, but Osa
had not come to fight. He placed the magical hand on her cheeks, and the seas
calmed instantly.
‘I’m sorry, my sun. I can’t bear the thought of you away
from me for a second. It would be worse still if it were someone else keeping
you. I would kill myself if it happens……’
‘Have I ever done anything to make you doubt me? Look at my
lips when I’m talking: this body, this heart and this soul, are all yours.
Believe me……’
Things went farther than she had planned. But Osa was
determined. It was this way or no other. She just had to bear with him. It was
love, nothing more. No other girl touched him deep like this piece of divinity
who had no business being among humans, and the only place she was going to was
anywhere beside him. Surprisingly, he
did not meet with much resistance. This was good. The desire was mutual. Before
long they had become inseparable, the feel of the moment heightened by the
feathery caress of the grass on their bodies. The heavens touched the earth,
and shook hands.
‘You are pregnant.’
It was more like she was being accused than asked. But, what was the use of running round in
circles? Whatever wanted to happen would not kill her. Wasn’t it the elders
that said that there was nothing the eyes would see that would make it weep
blood? There was no speck of regret over what she had done. Father was the one
making all of this so complicated because of some family feud years before she
knew what was called a world. One way or the other, this was bound to happen.
It was to be either in honour or ignobly; in pride or humility. Anyway, she
didn’t care. She would have cared if it were anyone else other than the man who
made her world swirl.
‘It’s Osa’s’.
She did not wait for the exasperated screams of her mother
bemoaning what a disgrace she was bringing to the family and asking the gods
what she had done to deserve such a treatment of a child, nor the hate-burned
gaze of her father who had heard the commotion and had appeared to silently
take in what was happening; she disappeared into the inner room to wait for
what would come next.
In a question of a month, her father was forced to, in a meeting
devoid of the funfare and pleasantries of families whose relationships were to
be thus cemented, accept the offerings and statutes for the hand of Itim in
marriage.
‘Just a little more.
A little more. Its coming! See the head!’
Twelve women surrounded her in a semi-circle, their wrapper
forming an opaque wall which was made even so by their bodies which would have
made sure nothing was left to the view of whoever it was that had no right of
pass to view whatever was happening in the middle of that circle, save for the
earth-shattering cries of the woman who was in the fine dividing line between
two worlds, and perhaps the first cry of what came forth out of her. The birth
pains had come suddenly to Itim, and before she knew what was happening and
could gather herself to run to Aku, the local healer, who also was well versed
in these things, the water had broken and it had happened right there in the
centre of the large compound where they lived.
Her marriage to Osa under such peculiar circumstances had been noised
about, tottered about, nosed about by the market women and the hair stylists,
and it did not matter to her the occasional smirk she thought she caught with
her side eye whenever she passed by a group of women: she was content with,
happy with, and cared only for the explosive love she shared with Osa.
But when help mattered the most, the women of Oke knew the
difference between what they felt and what needed to be done, and so, hardly
had her first cry for help rung out, than the first set of women mobilized
themselves and sent word round to whoever was available, and Itim was enmeshed
in a mixture of feelings when it was obvious that it was not just a single baby
in her womb. As for the women, they had come, they had come. It had to be seen
through, to its end.
They prodded, and prompted, and encouraged, and inspired,
until one last burst of strength shot out the second hairy, pink, smallish mass
of little flesh and noise.
At that same instant, unknown to each and every one of the
people of Oke, two identical babies came forth in the homesteads of the Izi,
the priest, ten chiefs, and twenty other families.
News travelled fast in the village of Oke. It was public
knowledge in no time that the village had become on the verge of being
exterminated. The gods must have deemed them fit for annihilation to have
visited them in this manner. The next market day, there was a distraught chief
priest at the market square, kneeling with his hands in the air. There were
twelve boys kneeling beside him, and there was a surprised gasp when everyone
saw what each person saw.
The twelve boys were twins.
‘Kinsmen, I am sorry. I don’t know where to begin. I am
tired of this killing and bloodshed. There is no curse anywhere. All the killings,
I am responsible. There is nothing like swollen stomach. I made it happen.’
