When Gods Bleed (3 page)

Obi got home with the rays of the moonlight as his only source of light. He reached his home to meet his mother waiting for him.

“What happened to you?” she asked, carrying the boy inside.

“I was attacked by a hyena.”

“You were fighting again,” Odagwe said.

“This is not the time for you to be asking those kinds of questions. And by the way, woman, why would you send him at this time of the night?” the father asked.

“It wasn't that late when I sent him,” she replied while applying herbs to the injury.

“Father, I have something to tell you.” Odagwe’s tone was soft.

“Then talk, I am listening.”

“It’s something I would like to talk with you about privately.”

“It’s okay. Obi and I will finish up in the other room,” his mother said.

“Nonsense. If you have something to say, you can say it in your mother and brother's presence. If your sisters were here, I would ask them to be present. So what do you have to say?”

“It could be something that requires only your ears,” his mother said in a soothing manner.

“I have spoken. This family is built firm by the things we share together. Now Odagwe, what is the problem?”

The boy looked up in the air then faced his father and spoke harshly. “I have been offered a space in Omee training.”

“So why are you telling me?”

“The general has vouched for me.”

“Is there anything they teach Omees that I have not taught you? The constitution of anything good has been debased by their lust of power.”

“With all due respect, Father, I want to be an Omee with a future to look forward to. I would rather be a ruthless warrior than live in this isolated place you call home.”

“Odagwe!” Nneka shouted.

“You are now a man to choose your destiny, but I expect you not to hide under the skin of your prey. Why don't you say what hangs by your tongue, ‘Your father was weak. That’s why he did not finish what they sent him to do.’”

“I did not mean to say that.”

“I did not raise a liar and a coward. That’s exactly what you had in mind, so be bold enough to say what you mean.” Ifeanyi was burning with rage.

“If you are interested in my opinion, I know you are weak and the fact that you cannot handle the niche you are in, doesn’t mean you would bring us down to your level.”

“Ifeanyi,” his wife said shakily, “forgive Odagwe, I think he drank too much of that old man's palm wine.”

“Mother, stop defending me. I am no longer a child. I have watched the world turn around without me in it. I am over here wasting my life as a diminutive trader while my mates like Gbangba are now Omees. I am not drunk. My eyes are as wide as an owl.”     

“I respect your decision my son. You know the way out and don't bother coming back.”

“Ifeanyi, you are not serious.”

“Yes, Mother, he is serious and I, too, am serious about my decision.”

Odagwe bent to the height of his brother. “Come with me. They even take children of only seven years. The way we are, we would make it through their training in a year. Forget what is in your heart; think with your head. In every way, you are a man and it’s time to let the world know. There is no future here for us here.”

             
“Odagwe, you are stupid. You want to take my son away.”

             
Nneka was silenced by a signal from her husband's fingers; nevertheless she grabbed her son close to her.

“My brother, follow me. Let us create a pathway for our destination. Tears come and go, but the experience is something we can't buy, even if we possessed everything we touched. I know you are younger than I am, but there is nobody I trust to be at my back more than you, and nothing in this world or out of it will ever touch you as long as I live. Come with me. The general also vouched for you.”

Obi left his mother’s arms and went to his brother. His mother's mouth was open in astonishment; his father's face was indifferent. He shook his brother with two hands, telling him goodbye.

“Don’t make me beg, Obi. I will never forgive you if you don’t follow me.”

“I can’t come with you, Odagwe.” Obi stepped back toward Ifeanyi.

“Please come with me,” Odagwe said, his gaze intent on his brother.

Obi said nothing but remained still by his mother. Odagwe grinned and walked away, his mother chasing after him to change his mind, but it was to no avail.               

Chapter 3

With time, the kingdom of Didasu's idealism was transformed imperceptibly to something nobody could comprehend.

It started with the encroachment of the
lighter-skinned Nomads, who felt their cattle were best raised within that region. These Arabians provided an excellent breed of horses, their women's faces were covered and they were relentless about introducing their philosophy of life and religion to everyone. Then came the white men with their straight hair and narrow noses. When they first arrived, everyone in the kingdom thought the gods sent them direct from heaven. But after they sweated, bled, ate and had sex like the black man, the people’s impression changed.

T
hey kept coming with gifts that meant nothing to them compared to what they received in exchange. They were not all from the same land. Their religion was not the same, but they claimed to have the same god. They did not speak the same language and they had intense hatred for each other. They brought horses, copper and some luxury items like salt to trade for gold, cloth, ivory, beads, bronze carvings and even slaves.

People sold their land, slaves and heritage for salt. They used the salt to heal their wounds, wash their clothes, preserve
and cook their food, and dry animal skins used as clothes and footwear. The only problem was the kingdom of Didasu did not allow the trading of slaves to men outside the kingdom.

The white
men often attacked small villages in the outskirts of kingdoms and exported the people as slaves. They preferred the extremely strong nature of the Negroes in Didasu Kingdom, so they paid criminals large amounts to capture anyone they found. Some chiefs had private dealings with them.

*

Obi was twenty years old when his mother died, not long after her husband's funeral. Ifeanyi died from snakebite when he was in the bushes. His son tried to suck out the poison, but it spread too quickly into his body. It took them about two weeks before his spirit was let out of his body. In this time, every man who was a friend or a relation to the deceased pays their respect. Very few men were present for the interment of the Ikaza because their presence would have been unforgivable to their superior. Most men came out of gratitude for services Ifeanyi had done for them. He was recognized for making the antidotes for any kind of poison, which happened to be his major means of taking care of his family and increasing his land. For this reason, most people were surprised he died from snakebite. Everybody expected Odagwe, the general of Ozuoba, to be present, but he did not come. The chief of Alloida, Gbangba, came out for every man to see that he was present for the funeral of his friend’s father.                    

Gbangba
was a feared man for his heartless missions. When he was the general, his predecessor, Chief Hejieto, tried many times to assassinate him but to no avail. His predecessor died with a spear in his heart on a sunny day. The general headed the investigation of the mysterious death of their chief. Everyone knew Gbangba did it, but no one ever uttered a word except the dead man's wives, who were screaming all over the market place that the general had killed their husband. People pretended they didn't hear anything. A few elders challenged the general; they seemed to die of old age afterward. Only one Omee, named Vacoura, vehemently challenged Gbangba's investigation and he was made general when Gbangba became chief.

As
chief, Gbangba lived under constant threat from the outsiders, his Omees, his wives, and even his children. Attempts on his life were routine; his enemies were more than the men in his province. He was a true Omee to the core. His people feared him, yet they respected him because he expanded their province by encroaching into other chiefs’ lands and annihilating the tribes. They had reported the matter to the King many times, but Gbangba had a way of expanding his taxes as he expanded his land. The King allowed Chief Nonso of Iyatu to go to war with him because the man was insistent. The battle ended in a flawless victory—Iyatu’s province no longer existed and the land was used to form a greater Alloida.

Gbangba
's servants always picked the coquettes he slept with, to quench his insatiable sexual appetite after his wives and concubines. His servant had been telling him of a girl whose skin was smooth as the fur of a lion, whose smile opened up the heavens and whose beauty was unmatched.

During a feast celebrating the birth of his son
a few months before the funeral of Obi’s father, Gbangba ordered his servants to bring the girl to his presence. When she arrived, he was positive she was a goddess. The closer she got to his private chambers the faster his heart beat. She bowed with flawless humility. He studied the female and noticed a combined asset of lust and purity.

“Please rise. It is I who should respect your presence.” He snapped his fingers and everyone in the room left, closing the door behind them. “Why have I not been aware of your existence till now?”

“Your Grace, my existence is not worth a space in the midst of your knowledge.”

             
“Nonsense. My servants underestimated your beauty. What is your name and who is your father?” As he spoke, he tried to keep his distance, but the voluptuous animal had a power over him that made him reach for her bosoms.

             
The coquette pushed him away in a highly seductive manner and started walking around the room asking, “What is your desire?”

             
“My desire is you in my bed.”

“Patience,
Gbangba, or am I too little to call you that?”

“I am whatever you want me to be. Now come to me.”

“No rush,” she said, smiling and playing with the palm wine keg on the table resting on the ivory tusk. “You realize it will be highly indecent for me to spread my legs for you to enter me this soon.”

“What you want I will provide. Even if you want to belong to me, then I am yours. Any dowry settlement I will pay, but now I want both of us to join as one.”

She poured palm wine from the chief’s table into a calabash and knelt in front of him.

“I hope I am worthy to offer my Chief
palm wine to drink.”

“If I want to be served
palm wine, I would snap my fingers and have over twenty servants waiting to serve me. Now I want to enter inside you.”

“A tortoise knows it will take him a long time to get to his destination, but it still moves. Now please drink the wine I offer you and soften my heart.”

Gbangba got up and paced around the room. “Women! You are all the same. You prefer to be acted on with intensity.”

“How do you expect me to let you enter me when you refuse to drink the wine I offer you from your calabash?”

“Why don't you drink and offer me the rest?”

“Are you trying to imply that I poisoned the wine?”

“Definitely not, but our people have a saying that the woman spices the path of a man, so please help yourself.”

“If that is your desire, so shall it be.” She took the calabash in one hand and her other hand delved into her braids, where she took out some sharp pins from her hair and threw them at the
chief.

Gbangba
succeeded in deflecting the first set of pins, but she kept throwing more at him until one finally entered his eye. As he pulled the pin from his eye, there was blood everywhere and he found it hard to see. The Wovamee dipped her hand into her miniature wrapper around her waist and brought out a jagged edged knife. She jumped on the table and dived at the chief. Gbangba could not see; the blood had covered his second eye. As she landed on him, she drove the knife into his shoulder with a powerful thrust. She missed her aim for his heart because the chief swayed. He wanted to scream, but what example would he give to his men, allowing them think the great Gbangba could not take care of a Wovamee.

She pulled the knife from his shoulder like a tigress. With a greater force
, she aimed for his heart with no intention to miss this time. He used his hands as a blockade. The knife passed through his hands, but did not get to his heart. He held her wrist with the knife still inside his hand. She punched him hard continuously with her other hand, but he did not let go. As he rose to his feet, he got hold of her other hand. She kicked him, but it seemed to have no effect on him. She started giving him head-butts until he released the grip and staggered back.

The
Wovamee broke out one of the tusks from the legs of the table and ran toward Gbangba. The chief could now see the figure in a blurred manner, approaching him forcefully, but he instinctively dodged her, grabbed her by the neck and twisted it. He continued squeezing her neck until he was positive she was dead, then he opened the door to his chambers and fainted.

His servants
, on seeing him, went to inform the Omees. These men then sent the message to the general who sent for the chief’s Tikpapa. The general got to the chief’s home about the same time as the Tikpapa. They saw Obi, the Ikaza's son and friend of Gbangba, dressing the chief’s wounds.

“The pins she threw at his eyes were poisoned as well as the knife. I suspect we can still treat it before—
” Obi began explaining before being interrupted.

“If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it
,” the Tikpapa said as he surveyed the invalid's wounds. “He is right. He has been poisoned, but the antidote cannot be found in these parts.”

“You are speaking rubbish
, man. All Wovamees use ugra poison that can be cured by using aniye leaves,” Obi said angrily while applying pressure to his friend's shoulder.

“Listen, you might be the son of an
Ikaza but it does not put you in a position to interfere with things higher than your level.”

The
Tikpapa removed Obi's hands and started applying a mixture from the bark of a tree on the shoulder.

“Everyone in this room should leave except the
Tikpapa,” Vacoura, the general, ordered. “Whatever you have to say with the chief lying here, you say in front of me,” Obi said. “Whatever you have to do with the chief here, you do it in front of me, because I am not going anywhere.”

“Look here young man, we are not prepared for contests, so for the last time as
general of this province I am ordering you to—”

“You are ordering me to what?” Obi interrupted. “We are wasting time. Let us send someone to get these leaves or else he will not make it—unless that is what you want.”

“How dare you accuse us of such a crime,” the Tikpapa said.

“If the
Tikpapa said there is no cure, then there is no cure,” the general said.

Obi ran to where
Gbangba lay, used his elbow to push the Tikpapa away, and hefted the chief onto his shoulder. Before the general could reach him, he used his back to push the door open. On the other side of the door the chief’s wives were wailing and crying, while the Omees and the elders were talking amongst themselves. When they saw Obi with the chief on his shoulder, the Tikpapa on the floor, and the general trying to catch him, silence filled the room.

“Great people of Alloida,” Obi dropped the
chief on the floor gently as he spoke, “Chief Gbangba was stabbed in his shoulder and in the hand with a poisonous knife. The pin that entered his eye was also poisoned. The Tikpapa said the antidote is aniye leaves and it should be given to him before morning. Your general said I should drop the chief in the midst of his people so that everyone can witness his recovery while I go and get the leaves.”

When he finished talking, he faced the
general and Tikpapa along with every other spectator in the room.

The
General raised his head high and without looking at anyone and said, “Now that you have told them what I told you to tell them, go and get the leaves before the day is over.”

Obi got the antidote for the poison and gave it to the
chief. His convalescence took a short period but eventually Gbangba was himself again, though with only one eye—the other one was damaged beyond healing. The servant who introduced the Wovamee to the chief died mysteriously. Gbangba looked for a million excuses to kill the general, but he was good at covering his tracks and was loved by both his Omees and the elders. The Tikpapa was not so fortunate; he was killed by the general for treason. The general claimed to have killed him immediately after he told him about assassinating his beloved chief. Gbangba knew that the Tikpapa was killed to cover all the loopholes, but he really did not mind the loss. Now he had only the general to take care of.

The burial of Obi’s father was not too ceremonial; a few commoners came and danced around his grave and some poured palm wine on it. His wife was kept in seclusion from everybody for a week, except her daughters who provided her food and anything she desired.

Obi looked at everyone dancing and rejoicing
at his father’s burial. His father told all of his children he wanted them to be happy when he died because he lived a good life and he expected them to dance vigorously. Ifeanyi raised him as an Omee, taught him about the art of physical combat, the different poisons and their antidotes, to understand the deception of man, and gave him systematic information on the laws and politics of the land.