Numen!

by Olatunde, Biola;

  Ife sighed and smiled back. “Remember how Babamogba stared at me in horror when I told him about the oro festival and said for all your show of strength, a woman has the ability to destroy the oro festival. I learnt something today from one of the best neurosurgeons of the country.”

  “Yeah, what was it?”

  Ife laughed and said she had learnt that science even identified the uniqueness of the female specie of Homo sapiens. Both of them laughed and they made the mood lighter when Babatunde said it was not in the best interest of the menfolk to accept that uniqueness if they could not manipulate it to their advantage.

  The next morning Babatunde sent his palace messenger a message to Babamogba requesting his presence in the palace at the old man’s convenience.

  Ife headed back to the city. She was now counting the days. After she submitted her letter of resignation, she ensured a copy was sent to the office of the First Lady. Ife felt easier and actually started to look forward to being at home fulltime.

  She also tried to sense the personality of the incarnating spirit. She sent messages asking him to show himself. She kept thinking of the incoming spirit as a male personality and would sense his closeness.

  She had the odd sensation that the spirit was someone she had met before and that she had been in love with the spirit because her heart would light up just thinking of him. She had the impression of someone whose head was glowing like he had been standing with the sun sometimes, and would see in her mind fields of sun plants and flowers. Ife knew the spirit was always male in its incarnations and felt that a friend of hers was coming.

  She was often tempted to return to the island so she could learn but each time she felt a restraining hand and laughter, like she was being teased to hold on. A feeling of peace always suffused her being and that excitement you feel about a loved one you had not seen for a long time but you knew he was aware that he had been missed. It was like sitting at home in the evening, the sun about to go home, soft light touching everything golden and you anticipate the footsteps of a loved one coming in from the farm. One afternoon in one of her conversations, she had asked him his name and she heard laughter but nothing else. She also heard soft murmurs, a comforting sense of secured love. Ife could no share these feelings and sensations with anyone. She simply enjoyed the gift of those thoughts. It made her thoughtful, and she glowed from within.

  Babatunde would watch her quietly and wonder at such a gift.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Yomi came to visit Babatunde in the palace the minute he came back from his honeymoon. He came alone and he had a worried look on his face. He told Babatunde that he had some upsetting news. He had received a newspaper publication that mentioned a petition being sent to the inspector general of police about a missing girl and the comments that a body had been found near the domain of Oba Adeolu.

  Babatunde listened closely to Yomi. He had a frown on his face as he listened. When Yomi had finished speaking, he sighed and looked straight ahead. Yomi asked if there was more to the newspaper story.

  Babatunde shrugged and replied that he was just as mystified as him because he had been wondering what was going on too. He explained to Yomi about the indigo people suggesting that he had reason to think that something fishy was afoot.

  Two days before he had received a call from the Governor asking him point blank if he knew anything about the indigo people. Babatunde replied that he had no idea what the Governor was getting at because he was not an associate of a cult and by all indications the indigo people are supposed to be nasty ritualists.

  He had learned some more about the credentials of the indigo people from his chief adviser and he knew that while they had no spiritual content, they wielded a fear over their victims. He remembered he had called a meeting of his chiefs and that was how he learned that the indigo people were a secret cult. Their members were drawn from every strata of society and they were a nuisance in any community they showed an interest in.

  He explained to Yomi what he had learned and wondered if his friend could add anything to that for him. Yomi was puzzled and said it was the first time he heard of such a thing. He was very shocked when he learnt that some judges were also suspected of being part of such a cult.

  “That is really crazy, Kabiyesi, how do they intend to dispense justice if a member was brought before them?” Yomi said in disgust.

  “I saw one of my chiefs with the beads and I invited him if he would prefer those beads to the natural ones we gave him. In my position as the Kabiyesi, I understand I am expected to accept all types and manner of people who make up my community. The question that I find worrying is what I do if a member walks up to me and gives me the beads as a patron of the indigo society.”

  Yomi shook his head unable to answer and absent-mindedly accepted the palm wine that a maid brought to him, then he looked into the calabash and frowned. At the bottom of the calabash bowl was a coiled reptile, very tiny but nestled and seeming to be living. Yomi was trembling with shock and horror as he stared at it for a few seconds. He kept wiping his lips nervously. He showed the calabash to Babatunde, who raised eyebrows as he bellowed for guards. The chief guard rushed in, startled. Babatunde asked for the maid who had just served the drink and he was told nobody had served the drink as they were still washing the calabash.

  Babatunde asked the chief guard to fetch Babamogba promptly. He still held the calabash as Yomi stared at him wondering what was going to happen next. Babatunde held the calabash in his left hand and used the right hand that had the Numen insignia to cover it. He slowly walked towards Yomi keeping his gaze on a point above the head of Yomi, as he muttered some words to himself, then he removed his right hand and gazed into the calabash. There was a frown on his face as he observed the calabash intently.

  Babatunde asked Yomi where his car was parked, and Yomi said he had parked close to the private quarters of the Kabiyesi, actually next to the Kabiyesi’s private car. Babatunde nodded and invited Yomi to come closer. Yomi was nervous but followed the invitation and Babatunde showed him the calabash. Yomi was stunned to see that instead of the coiled reptile that had stunned him, he could see through the cream liquid of the palm wine, his car that was parked outside. He was stunned.

  Babatunde smiled at his friend and said Yomi may have to use a different car to get home that day if he wanted to make it home in his present skin.

  “The lady came to warn us that something is coiled in your car and you need to inspect the car now or get a mechanic to have a look at it. Your car is presently dangerous to your health. Very timely warning for you, my friend.”

  “Who was the maid?”

  Babatunde stated that knowing who the maid was would not serve any purpose but to heed the warning of the calabash. There was a timid knock on the door, and a girl stood framed on the doorway, the palm wine she carried spilling from her badly frightened hands. She was too awed to speak and was crying.

  Babatunde gave her a calm smile and told her that there had been a mistake, he told her she could return to the serving point as they already had something to drink. The frightened girl fled.

  Yomi was contemplative. “Somebody came to warn me—was my car tampered with?”

  “Just heed the warning, this is a very old town, and we don’t claim to be descendants of the popular Oduduwa, but we call ourselves children of the morning sun. The laws are different for us here. Hence we don’t want any prince here to be harmed either. Am I making sense? I want to know those indigo people and send them on their way. They can’t be worse than the wolf-men.”

  Yomi thanked Babatunde and he said he would get a taxi to take him home. He said Josephine might be worried if he did not start making plans to start heading for home. Babatunde asked him to give himself a few more minutes while he sent for the mechanic to have a look at his car.

  Five minutes later, the mechanic that Babatunde sent for arrived and he was asked to check Yomi’s car. He came back later holding a cable that had been nea
tly cut, and said the transmission fluid had also been drained out. Yomi was alarmed, asking how that could have happened as he checked the car before traveling, but the mechanic said the connecting rubber that held the fluid was damaged and the car was thus leaking fuel. Babatunde asked the mechanic how long repairs would take. The mechanic said in another hour or so. Yomi groaned but Babatunde sent for his own private driver and asked Yomi to make use of that car until the next day when his own car would be sent to him.

  Yomi thanked Babatunde and promised to set a quiet investigation into motion about the members of the indigo people.

  Babatunde returned to the palace after he had waved Yomi off, a little thoughtful. He sat down for a few seconds wondering who wanted to harm Yomi.

  He heard a quiet cough and looked up from his seat; Sasa was looking at him pensively too.

  “What is the matter?” Babatunde asked.

  “Your Governor has gone to the Indigo people to make medicine that will make him invincible in the next elections,” Sasa replied, sounding very sad.

  “Lord have mercy on us, but why will he do that?”

  “That is easily answered—your people have changed the sign posts, you know. Politics as I heard some of you say in your books is the art of putting yourself forward to serve the people, I think.”

  Babatunde sighed. “We are not doing that here, and it is the politics of rice and oil. You would not believe what happens here. We seek the people’s mandate in order to mortgage their dreams for another four years.”

  “Hmmm…when he wanted to be Governor he went to the helpers and asked for permission to serve. The law is, when you ask you receive, but he did not read the small print of his request nor to whom he applied to. Now he is anxious to undo seeds he planted but he has to return to where he planted the seeds and take out the seeds himself.”

  “That has nothing to do with me.”

  “When you ask, you get answers. You asked to know the head of the Indigo people, I just gave you answer,” Sasa replied.

  He was gone as Babatunde sighed heavily.

  Someone knocked softly on the door and he granted permission, then smiled as his mother quickly walked in and held him. He was not supposed to see her openly so he had a private entrance made for her known only by him and the princess. He closed the public entrance as he asked after his mother’s welfare, giving her a critical once over look.

  She was still the same, humble, quietly serving woman. He suddenly stretched out his hand as he did the time he was within the wasteland and called her name softly. His gaze went misty as he learned about their paths and he knew she was his sister in a different incarnation. It made sense to him now, that he always felt protective towards her. Not in the manner of a son to a mother but as a brother to a sister. Her name came to him, she was Wenyon then

  They chatted for a few minutes as he asked after her welfare. The knowledge he had about her made him feel more protective. He told her quietly that he was going to be a father soon. His mother knelt down and thanked the gods for such a blessing on her and asked if she could in one way or another help to make the necessary herbal drinks that would help maintain the pregnancy.

  Babatunde suggested that his mother should wait until Ife felt comfortable with her pregnancy to share it openly. His mother agreed and asked if it was okay to share the information with his dad. But Babatunde said the time was not yet right.

  ~~~

  That evening as Ife was coming in to town from the city, she felt an urge to pay her mother-in-law a visit. One look at the happy face of her mother-in-law and she laughed and teased that she was aware of the supposed secret. Her mother-in-law stared at her, awed by her instant knowledge.

  “You are Wenyon, remember, the medicine woman from the border town? I will start taking your herbs when it is time. Don’t worry, your son will not know I am aware. Are you happy for me?”

  Her mother-in-law asked if that was in doubt and asked after Ife’s trips. They chatted for a while and Ife handed over the things she had brought from the city for her adopted mum.

  On her way back to the palace she saw the crusaders setting up their chairs. It meant there was going to be a crusade that night and she smiled. After the formal coronation of the Kabiyesi, they had come over to the palace evangelizing that he should give his life over to Christ. She remembered that Babatunde had simply watched all the events as it unfolded and excused herself. From well-known facts, the evangelists did not know how to approach her.

  Soon, stories started circulating that she needed to be a Christian in order to help fight the witches and wizards. She remembered that one particular prophet had become a nuisance in his persistence and boasted that he would convert her to his faith.

  Convert me to his church more likely if he can get away with it,” she told Tinu, as they sat and ate mango fruit that were in season.

  “But what would be wrong if you converted to a Christian?” Tinu asked.

  “What am I now?” Ife asked.

  Tinu refused to answer.

  “You don’t really know who I am?”

  “We all think you are the Numen for us here.”

  Ife was interested and asked Tinu to share what she had learned, but Tinu was suddenly shy and said she just understood it but would not know how to explain what she simply sensed.

  That gave Ife food for thought and she wanted to find out. The idea that there was an explanation for her kind of species became very important to her. I might just be an ordinary female after all, and rather than feel this constant pressure within me all the time.

  Her visit home that time had been so crowded with other things that she had not remembered to seek out Mae or Adura. However she had learned something really vital. The Grace of the Almighty had never left any race un-catered for. She learned that there was a big difference between religion and conviction. Ife felt that the missionaries should have left the African alone with his faith, and he would have evolved into what Edumare intended him to be. She had refused to accept that the African was a natural savage as her friend in medical school had insisted.

  She used to have long discussions with Lloyd then, he would attempt to tease her about religion and ask her which of the several churches she subscribed to.

  “If it is the truth it would have no splitting, when human interference has tainted the teachings it has split. The Truth is one whole and it is in Creation as a whole. The versions we have of it are versions of our differing egos and definitions.”

  “Good for you my friend, it would take something else to change such clarity. Make sure you keep it that way.”

  Ife didn’t know why she was thinking about that conversation this evening and assumed that the sight of the Christian crusaders must have brought it on.

  In the palace proper she alighted and walked towards her apartment. That was when she became aware of the crowd near to the reception room. They looked agitated and she walked up to them. She noticed some of the chiefs were walking into the reception room while most of the civilians were dressed in the all-white garb of the prayer warriors faction of the cherubim and seraphim, simply referred to everywhere as the aladuras. The image of her mum came to mind immediately and she wondered what hysteria they were raising now.

  She was not a member of the traditional council of chiefs so she veered back to the private quarters knowing any of the women in the palace will update her.

  She didn’t have to wait for too long as one of the women helpers was still agitated and voluntarily shared the cause of the commotion outside. She told Ife that prophet Dele Fikun had seen a vision that witches held meetings in the big baobab tree in front of the palace and so was going to cut it down. In fact he had gone there with his church members and in the frenzy had attempted to axe the big ancient tree. However at the first stroke of the axe at the base of the tree, there had been a loud cry from one of the chiefs and he had started reciting incantations. The incantations had sent the church members into a frenzied reading
of bible passages with some of them sprinkling holy water. As crowds gathered, more chiefs turned up and a youth had physically bundled the stupid prophet out of the way dragging him to the palace and the chiefs had followed, just as angry and determined to stop what they called sacrilege.

  Ife tried not to laugh while the woman recounted the details and thanked her, requesting if she could have agidi for supper. The woman stared at her saying she was willing to pound the yam as usual but Ife explained that she felt that pounded yam will be too heavy for her that night.

  Later when Babatunde was able to retire to the apartment, there was anger written over his face. Ife understood why. That tree was older than the town itself and had served various purposes for the people.

  “You would think they would at least come over and share their vision with you,” Ife murmured in a soft voice, as she massaged her ankle.

  Babatunde sighed and dropped his horsetail on the chair beside her, watching her massage.

  “Is there something wrong with your ankle?”

  Ife explained that she stood too long with the First Lady and thus she had cramps in her ankles. He lifted her foot and rubbed it gently himself as he gave her a smile, his anger dissipating.

  He shared with her the small drama about Yomi, the calabash of palm wine and the prayer warriors. Ife laughed and said Babatunde should be prepared for the next batch of religious bigotry to come from the Muslim community.

  Babatunde grimaced and shook his head tiredly that at least that lot have the decency not to tell him they were seeing visions. Generally the Muslim folks were a peaceful lot.