Morako and Imade waited. In a short while, several families strode into the hall and waited at the end. Some sat on stools they had brought, others on their own mats. The victim and the accused walked in and stood in the middle of the semi-circle formed by the judges consisting of the Ooni and the Ogboni. This was the setting for judicial administration in Ife-Iyoku; once a determination has been made by the combined gathering of the Ooni and the Ogboni, the hunters would be entrusted with the execution of the judgment.
The victim alleged that the accused was her husband’s friend and had sought for her to be tied to him while she was a maiden, but she had refused. Nonetheless, he remained in good terms with her husband, although he knew that the accused had always lusted for her. On this particular day, while her husband was away, the accused stole into her bed and violated her while she slept. She became aware of what the accused had done when she woke up and saw semen around her crotch. In addition to violating her, the intruder also took her jewels.
She found out his identity through her neighbours who had seen the accused come in and leave her chamber. She then called upon the neighbours who swore in the name of the gods that it was the accused whom they had seen enter and leave the complainant’s house within the period.
The accused was called upon to state his case. He agreed that he had indeed gone to his friend’s house within the period but had found his friend absent. He also agreed that he wanted his friend’s wife and had always done so since she refused to be joined to him and chose his friend instead. But on this occasion, seeing her near-naked on her bed, he was so overtaken with his desire that he stood astride her and fondled himself until he emitted his semen upon her. It was his way of sating his desire for her. As for her cowries, he denied taking or even seeing it at all.
When the facts were fully set out and corroborated by the witnesses, the Ooni addressed everyone.
“This man here is facing a charge of violation and theft. It is hard for us to treat the evidence as proof of her violation, as he insists, he did not touch her. But her husband is a hunter and crime against a hunter carries weight. So, it shall be treated weightily.
“Violation of another man’s woman is a grave wrong, but in times like this when our survival is hanging on a thread, violation can be tolerated if it results in the production of a child. If Okanga had violated a maiden who had not been joined to another man, it would have been a simpler matter, and we should have asked them to be joined together so that the fruit of the act may be raised properly. But this woman here has been joined with another man, a hunter and one of the honourable men of Ife-Iyoku. Okanga did not just violate this woman but also betrayed his fellow brother and hunter. And besides his act of betrayal, he also stole her cowries. An act of stealing is not just against the victim but also against the people of Ife-Iyoku and Obatala himself, for our lives and possessions are united. We must eschew greed, for greed is of Eshu the mischief maker. It is what led to the war of separation. It will not be tolerated here.”
He paused and seemed to draw his breath before he asked, “Is the offended husband here?”
“No,” replied one of the guards.
“How can he not be here when he is the aggrieved party?” asked one of the chiefs in annoyance. “The cowries belong to the wife, but he is her head and the one defrauded.”
One of the hunters came forward and offered an explanation: “He vowed to kill Okanga should he ever set eyes on him again. In fact, he tried and had to be restrained and it took great persuasion by the elders to get him to agree to submit to the law of the Ogboni council. We had to promise him that we would see maximum justice is meted out.”
Chief Elumelu muttered, “The young and hot-blooded.”
“Peace, Elumelu,” the Ooni said. “He is a hunter and it is in their nature to be hot-blooded. However, killing will not be condoned. All life is precious in Ife-Iyoku, even the life of an offender. In the days before the war of separation, we did not kill our own. How can we now kill our own people when we are charged with the sacred duty of survival? How can we take the life that we did not give? It is Obatala’s prerogative to give and take life. But,” he turned to Okanga, “you have threatened the peace of Ife-Iyoku. Your friend desires war with you, and we cannot have that here. Were he willing to forgive, it would be another matter. He has expressed his unwillingness for peace by absenting himself from this proceeding. For that, he will be called to order later. But for now, we must respect his resolve as a hunter. You both cannot coexist here if we must have peace. You must leave Ife-Iyoku. For your crimes and threatening the peace in Ife-Iyoku, I pronounce you Mbadiwe and you are henceforth exiled from Ife-Iyoku.”
The guilty hunter protested that he had not stolen the cowries of the woman but was set up to be punished. She knew his actions, improper as they were, did not merit grevious punishment, so she framed him up for stealing. But the judgment had been passed and would not be recalled. Okanga was dragged away by a group of hunters appointed to execute the judgment.
✦✦✦
Ologbon the weaver, having been summoned by Omenga, now walked in with the other chiefs of Ife-Iyoku who constituted the Ogboni. There were grave tidings to deliberate on. One of the chiefs pointed at Morako and Imade and asked, “Are they allowed here?”
“Let them be,” the Ooni said. “They are part of what we want to discuss.” They broke kolanut and chewed them noisily, and beyond the noise of their chewing, there was silence. The matter before them was the gravest they had had to contend with since the War and their first attempt to emigrate from Ife-Iyoku. Besides Morako and Imade who sat apart as observers, Ologbon was the only other female in the gathering and she was there by virtue of her position as Chief priestess of Obatala.
Omenga cleared his throat and started. “The gods have made their revelations to those in commune with them. What I have seen with my eyes, my mouth is reluctant to speak. But it is not for me to say. It is for the Ooni on whom the gods have laid the burden of leadership in Ife-Iyoku.”
The Ooni’s voice was cleared and controlled when he spoke. “When you have a poisoned fruit to feed another, it will not grow sweeter by keeping. There is no point in stretching the revelation of the inevitable. My people, was it not for this that the head which assumes leadership must wear an iron crown?”
The gathering cheered, and the Ooni continued. “The gods lure us with the powers they have placed at our disposition. I have used my power in my attempt to find salvation for Ife-Iyoku and what I have done I did for her good.”
In the brief silence that followed the Ooni’s pause, everyone in the gathering stretched their necks. Then, when the Ooni seemed unwilling to continue, one of the chiefs asked, “What have you done, our Ooni?”
“I have been in contact with the outside world.”
The silence that followed was of inexpressible shock.
“It is my sacred duty to find a way for my people,” the Ooni continued. “We dwindle with each passing day. The evil prophecy of our extinction is never nearer its fulfilment than now. Perhaps it was meant as a warning, for us to find our way out before we die to the last man.”
The implication of the Ooni’s words had sunk on all present and their silence was transformed to whispers.
“I have been in contact with the outside world for a while now,” the Ooni continued. “I had negotiations with them. They offered to help us evacuate our people using aircrafts.”
He paused and looked around. The whispering voices had died, and all eyes were fixed on him. “Those I contacted wanted to know how many we were, how we survived and our location.”
The weaver gasped. “And you divulged our secrets to them, these strangers? Who are they?”
The Ooni shook his head. “I contacted them using a universal outreach radio. Yet, the only places it could reach were nearby places. They did not at first understand me, but they got an interpreter.”
“So, we do not know who they are, b
ut they know who we are?” the weaver asked.
“We need them,” the Ooni said, his voice impatient. “They cannot help us without knowing our identity.”
“But you embarked on this course alone. That was wrong, my head and head of Ife-Iyoku. It is not your burden alone to decide and plan the fate of all Ife-Iyoku.”
The weaver gestured at the chiefs seated around. They were like a gathering in which the news of death of the clans-head had just been announced. Not one of them said a word in support or against the Weaver’s opposition of her husband. Imade and Morako observed in silence.
“In any case,” continued the Weaver, “you gave away more than you got. Women have always been more adept at bargaining. Had you let others in on this course of action perhaps we would not have been short-changed for information.”
“We have little of value to offer. They barely accepted what we have to give.” “And what have we to give, our Ooni?” one of the chiefs asked.
The Ooni looked down and said in a low voice. “I gave them Mbadiwe, the rejected.”
“What?” the elders echoed in unison. The Weaver covered her face.
“They were unwilling to help at first,” the Ooni explained. “And they were the only ones I could reach. They wanted something. When I told them of the gifts we have developed, they wanted to have some of us for testing to find out how the gifts worked. So I gave them our location and the leave to take some of the rejected. The Mbadiwe are already lost to us. They are as good as dead to Ife-Iyoku. I did not see what we have to lose by giving them to the strangers in exchange for helping to evacuate our people.”
The Weaver said angrily. “In times past, we sold our people as slaves to the white men. Those ones were rejected too. But we did not stop with the selling of the rejected. It became a rampage that led the white men into carting away our people in thousands, and this set us back in development hundreds of years and made us vulnerable in the very war that led to this. Are we doomed to keep repeating the same mistakes?”
“Remember your place woman,” one of the elders admonished. “The Ooni is still your husband and our leader, whatever his actions.”
The Weaver looked at him with undisguised disgust.
Another of the elders said conciliatorily, “Let us focus on a way forward now. Are we to follow these strangers to a better land? Can we trust these strangers who are willing to use fellow humans in experiments?”
Omenga who had been quiet now spoke. “I looked into the future with my gift as a see-er and consulted all the spirits and ancestors on the other side. I saw visions of the future. I saw soldiers invading Ife-Iyoku. These strangers would not be satisfied with taking the rejected. They will come into Ife-Iyoku and try to take some of us. When Imade and Morako were sent to come and get me, they met Olumo who told them that she foresaw the end of our race, the death of our women and children, and our bondage by these strangers for their experiments. Is this not so?” He directed his question at Imade and Morako and beckoned them draw closer to bear witness.
“It is so,” Imade said.
“I will step down as Ooni and face the judgement of the council and new Ooni after this debacle is over,” the Ooni said. “This is not the time for rash actions, my people; but I acknowledge the errors of my indiscretion. For now, however, we must find how best to avert this horrible future. We can only do this if we are united.”
The Ooni turned to his son Morako. “Send word to the headhunter to call the council of war. And send town criers and alert every hunter in the village to be present. We must prepare to fight for our survival.”
COUNCIL
Morako met Imade outside his hut when he got back. She was pacing to and fro. She confronted him immediately, inquiring of him the events that transpired in the council. He took her hands and led her inside the hut where they both sat.
He locked the door before he spoke. “You know I am not supposed to be divulging the words of the Aare ona kakanfo and the other war chiefs in a war council to others who are not hunters or of the army.” Seeing her slanted eyebrow and the frown on her face, he added, “I’m not supposed to be seen telling you anyway.”
Imade tapped her foot impatiently and he continued.
“The Aare Ona kakanfo and the entire council have decided on a plan of attack when the invaders come.”
“You mean, defence?”
“War is coming upon us, Imade. We must meet war with war.”
“Should we not attempt to confront them and determine their purposes before launching into a war? It is not wise for us to start a war with those we do not know their purposes yet. It seems to me that Ife-Iyoku would be most hesitant to be embroiled in an avoidable war. And you know that we have not hunted after men since the War of separation.”
Morako shook his head. “War is already in motion, Imade. The Ooni has already offered them Mbadiwe. Their coming to Ife-Iyoku is an indication of breach of faith. They can only do that if they want more. And don’t forget the words of Omenga. He said that this incursion could lead to the end of Ife-Iyoku if not handled carefully. Do you doubt his words?”
Imade was lost in thought, defeated by logic she could not refute.
Morako continued. “More was said in the meeting. In fact, this aspect concerns you. The Aare ona kakanfo and the other war chiefs decided that the women and children must not be left unguarded when the war starts. Being the most vulnerable and most valuable, they will be taken and hidden in the town hall beyond the hills.” Imade shook her head and held up her finger. “I will not be part of such schemes. You know how I feel about women being treated like little precious object that needs special protection. The women could fight instead of being hidden away. Why hide them away like sheep in what may be our most crucial fight for survival since the war of separation?”
Morako sighed. “The Aare ona kakanfo, the Ooni himself and most of the headhunters agreed that the women should be kept away for the very reason you want them to fight in the war. Our survival is crucial, and the women are the most important ingredient of that survival. Only they can carry the seed of new life. No matter how many men fall in the battle, when it is over, even just one man can populate a village. But with fewer women, this task will be all the harder. We are getting fewer every year and the boundaries of Ife-Iyoku grow smaller.”
Imade frowned, but Morako continued. “This was the argument of the head chiefs and the Aare ona kakanfo. Ologbon agreed with them. I argued that some of the women may be useful in battle with their gifts, but I was overruled and told that the hunters cannot afford the distraction of looking after the women while in battle. Women if not killed outrightly can easily be overpowered and taken where a hunter or male warrior would fight to the death.”
Imade listened calmly but was unmoved. “They have never entertained the idea that women can be useful. They have only thought women as liabilities from the start.”
“Well,” he said, “women are more valuable than men here.”
“Indeed” she said her eyes glittered and her fingers tightened in his hair. “Women are so important that they cannot make their own decisions. They are so important they cannot decide their roles in life. They are so important they can only be hidden away like livestock only to be brought out for breeding.”
She saw the embarrassment on Morako’s face and added, “But at least you spoke up for us, my brave hunter and feeler.” She climbed on his lap and ran her hand through his cheek to his hair, twirling a braid with her finger.
They sat together in silence for a moment before he said, “I must be leaving soon. The council has sent out town criers to every corner of the village with instructions for the hunters to gather and for the women and children to also gather to be taken to their hiding place. The weavers have been entrusted with the task of weaving light to render the hiding place invisible as further protection.”
“Oh, we have always been invisible before now,” Imade said, but her joke was l
ost in the seriousness of the situation. Morako stood suddenly while she was still on his lap and she almost fell before he caught her.
“You see,” he said with a grin, “for all your talk you still need a man to catch you when you fall. How will you fare in battle?” He kissed her to keep her from responding. “Don’t forget to join the other women at the central town hall.”
She shook her head and muttered under her breath: “You made us fall in the first place.”
CONTACT
The invaders came at dusk when they thought the villagers would be winding down from the day’s activities and least prepared to put up resistance. Or so they imagined. But the invaders had no way of knowing that their attack was expected and prepared for. They did not know of the resources available to Ife-Iyoku.
Three helicopters draped in camouflage green and carrying soldiers landed in the center of the village and the men inside them alighted. They were garbed in protective suits that left no part of their bodies exposed. They also wore face masks and carried oxygen tanks which they breathed through. They did not trust the air in the place which the rest of the world considered a dead zone. They had come fortified to resist radiation, though there was none in the village.
Their leaders signalled them, and they fell into formations, fanning out in twos, a team of almost 30 people all wielding rifles and tranquilizer guns—the one for dispatching and ending opposition, the other for subduing without termination. They had come for a quick snatch and grab but were surprised to find not a soul to confront. Two of the teams fanned out following some coordinates that they had already been given, to later make a rendezvous at their landing point. The commander stayed back with a team at the site of the landing where the helicopter stood. He coordinated the mission through the radio in his mouthpiece.
Dominion Page 32