Wake Me When I'm Gone

by Odafe Atogun

  A ripple went through the crowd. The Chief raised his horsetail for silence.

  He continued, his voice rising with every word: ‘From this moment, I pronounce that Ese should be treated as an outcast, until I say otherwise. But the boy must not be punished for his mother’s sins; our laws forbid that. And if she fails to remarry as prescribed by law, she will lose custody of the boy.’

  ‘No one can take my son from me!’ I yelled from the back of the crowd. A few heads turned to look at me.

  I was trembling with anger and fear. I could no longer listen to the Chief’s words. I pulled Noah after me; we left the meeting and returned home. For the rest of the day we remained indoors, isolated even from the noises of the village that filtered into our home.

  *

  That night in bed, my mind whirred. I knew that the Chief had married some young widows in the past, but none had been forced to marry him, so the situation I found myself in had never been known in the village before. Could it be that the law actually existed and I just did not know it? Would it get to the point where I would be forced to marry the Chief in order to keep my son? I shuddered at the prospect. I could not think of myself living in the palace; it was known to be a place of bitter rivalry between the Chief’s wives. It was even believed to be cursed. This last thought caused me to sit up in bed, pulling the blanket tightly around me, my eyes hopelessly searching the darkness, as if for answers.

  I had almost forgotten about the curse. All the widows the Chief had married had lost their children within one year of their moving into the palace. The first child who died was falsely accused of stealing a piece of meat and was beaten to death by the Chief’s eldest wives. The others had died in mysterious circumstances, but most believed they were killed by the jealous wives, who feared that their own children would have to compete with the children of strangers for the Chief’s attention. After the Chief’s first few stepchildren had died, the priests were summoned to exorcise the palace of evil spirits, but the deaths only stopped when there were no children left alive to kill. And now I was expected to marry this man, and possibly lose my son regardless. I fell back on the bed in despair. Of what use was it marrying a man I loathed only to lose my beloved son anyway?

  Footsteps encroached upon my thoughts in the dark. An intruder was in the house! This knowledge caused me to freeze in fear for a moment. Then I sat up sharply, propelled by the fact that Noah slept alone in the opposite room and could be in danger. A wide corridor separated us. I had to get to his room to protect him. I pushed the blanket away and sprang out of bed. The footsteps kept approaching and they seemed to be searching their way in the dark, cautiously. I thought I should scream for help. No, I must get to Noah first.

  My eyes adjusted to the darkness of my bedroom. I inched towards the door, my heart beating violently. And then a small voice called out, ‘Mother, I cannot sleep.’

  I froze momentarily at the voice, and then relief washed over me. I wrenched the door open. I could see his small silhouette in the dark corridor. Noah! I pulled him into my arms and carried him gratefully into my bedroom. I realised that the events of the day must have left him distraught. ‘You will be okay here with me!’ I whispered to him. ‘You will be okay.’

  As I watched him sleep beside me, I knew that there was no way I could let the Chief take him away from me. And I knew that there was no way I could go to live in the palace either.

  THREE

  Fortunately, I did not need to buy anything from Main Street in the days that followed, as no one would have sold it to me. I got all that Noah and I needed from our barn and farm, and I couldn’t have cared less that the village’s economy was in deepening recession.

  I was consumed by fear. What would happen to my son if the law the Chief made reference to indeed existed? Again, it occurred to me that to keep Noah alive I must not marry the Chief. But that would mean losing him to his uncle Jaja; this I could not bear. I contemplated running away with Noah in the middle of the night, but we had nowhere to go, and I knew that we would not get far before the Chief’s guards caught up with us.

  Going to my parents or my in-laws for help was out of the question. The Chief had given them acres of farmland and countless labourers. They would only compound my woes in order to receive more favours from the Chief – more land allocation, more labourers to till their farms. They could even be appointed as lesser chiefs, and that would attract a lot more benefits for them. I thought of turning to Chair-Lady. She had influence, but I wasn’t sure if she would want to help me.

  I felt helpless.

  All I could do was pray. But to whom? To the gods of my land, who were obviously responsible for my predicament, or to the god who dwelled in heaven, of whom the missionary had preached?

  Surely, the gods of my land would not answer my request – they were on the Chief’s side. I had never really believed in the god of whom the missionary spoke. But pathetic as I was, it occurred to me that I was better off turning to him for help. There must be someone up there, I reasoned; after all, it was natural to look heavenward when one was in distress. So I looked up and I prayed. I prayed so hard that afternoon that tears came to my eyes. I prayed that the god in heaven would protect us from the Chief and the laws of our land.

  Afterwards, I went to check on Noah in his room. He was fast asleep. He looked so innocent and defenceless. I kissed him gently on the cheek, and vowed to protect him with my life. Carefully, I shifted his head on the pillow, and then I went out to the backyard to do some work.

  As I hoed the earth, I kept repeating my prayer subconsciously, until it became a sad song in my mouth. I raised my face to heaven. Surely, someone must be up there, someone more powerful than the gods of my village, who ruled the affairs of the universe. Surely, it cannot be just an empty vastness up there. Surely.

  Somehow, I felt better. I went to take a bath after I had finished working. I was in the kitchen getting ready to prepare our evening meal when Noah awoke and joined me. He looked groggy with sleep and greeted me with a yawn.

  ‘How are you, Mother?’

  ‘I’m fine. And how are you? Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Yes, I did. But I had a dream,’ he said, a small frown on his face.

  I patted a stool. ‘Come and sit down and tell me your dream.’

  He sat next to me. The frown on his face deepened. ‘I cannot remember the dream,’ he said.

  ‘That means it’s a good dream.’ I smiled at him.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Good dreams are always difficult to remember, but bad ones are hard to forget,’ I explained to him.

  He frowned some more and said, ‘I can remember a bit of the dream now!’

  ‘What do you remember?’

  ‘I remember building a house . . .’

  ‘A house?’

  ‘Yes. After building the house, I went to look for the orphans I saw on the outskirts of the village.’

  I frowned for a moment, then smiled. ‘You see, because it was difficult for you to remember, it means that it is a good dream.’

  ‘It was a very colourful house,’ he continued.

  ‘It means that you will build an orphanage one day . . .’

  ‘I’d love to build an orphanage one day! I’d love to build it for the boys I saw.’ His voice had come alive.

  ‘It’s a good dream,’ I said quietly, after a few moments.

  ‘Thank you, Mother. I hope I dream it again.’

  We fell into silence as I sat on a low stool and began to blend tomatoes and peppers on the grinding stone.

  *

  A few days later, while Noah was out playing, I made my way to the palace. The days were ticking by and I felt a desperate need to make my case before the Chief. No one greeted me as I went, and I greeted no one. I thought of passing through Main Street, but I decided against it.

  I walked quickly, eager to reach the palace. I prayed that I would find favour before the Chief, but I did not feel hopeful. A number o
f men returning from the farms avoided me. Some women hissed and clapped their hands in anger. I did not care to look at any of them.

  I was met by a single guard when I got to the palace. And I was surprised to see that he carried a sword instead of the usual short stick. I did not bother to greet him. ‘I’m here to see the Chief,’ I said to him.

  ‘The Chief is not at home,’ he replied, raising his voice and his sword.

  Other guards promptly appeared, alerted by the voice of their colleague. They all carried swords. And it occurred to me that the Chief had increased his security because I was now considered to be a serious threat.

  ‘I need to see the Chief,’ I repeated.

  ‘What does she want?’ one of the other guards shouted.

  ‘She wants to see the Chief,’ the first guard replied. ‘I told her the Chief is not here.’

  ‘Yes, the Chief is not here,’ the others replied in chorus.

  ‘Where has he gone?’

  ‘It’s none of your business!’

  ‘I have come to marry him,’ I said, without thinking.

  And then they all smiled and put their swords away.

  ‘You should have said so,’ the first guard said.

  ‘Can I see him now?’

  ‘Come with me, please.’ He beckoned me to follow him.

  ‘No, he has to come out to see me,’ I said. ‘He needs to give me a public welcome before I go into the palace.’

  They all grinned sheepishly.

  ‘Okay, I will go and announce your presence to the Chief,’ said the first guard.

  He went inside while the others lingered around, their swords sheathed at their waists. They were all smiling pleasantly.

  The Chief appeared speedily. And he came towards me with outstretched arms. ‘Welcome, my Queen,’ he purred.

  I could smell alcohol on his breath. I held up my hand to prevent him from enfolding me. ‘Wait!’ I said sharply. ‘First, we need to talk.’

  ‘Please come into the palace where we can talk in comfort.’ He waved his hand to usher me in.

  ‘We have to talk here.’

  ‘Okay, my Queen. What is it you want us to talk about?’

  ‘I have come to tell you that no one should dare to take my son from me.’

  ‘My Queen, no one will do that. Not now that you are my Queen. The boy will be treated as a prince here in the palace once you are married to me.’

  ‘Yes, that’s another thing I want to discuss with you. I have not fallen in love with you or any man, and so I cannot marry,’ I said, emboldened by the knowledge that this was the only way to keep my son safe.

  The Chief coughed violently, and the guards, startled, promptly pulled out their swords, as if their master had come under a sudden attack.

  ‘But you said you had come to marry me,’ the Chief croaked.

  ‘I have not come to marry you! I have come to tell you to leave me and my son alone. When I meet a man I love, I will marry that man. But I’m not going to marry you or anyone else because tradition requires me to do so.’

  An exclamation of shock escaped the guards. ‘Abomination!’ one of them cried.

  The Chief coughed again, holding a hand to his chest and doubling over. The guards quickly surrounded him, as if to protect him from the assault of my words. He waved his hand weakly at me. ‘Send her away,’ he said in a whisper.

  I did not wait to be sent away. I turned and stormed off.

  Noah was still out playing when I got home. I went into my room, and I crumpled onto my bed and wept bitterly, tormented by the two devastating options before me.

  *

  I decided not to tell Noah what was going on. I prepared our evening meal, chatting lightly with him, and I managed to stay cheerful while we ate. But at the back of my mind was the encounter I had had with the royal guards and the Chief earlier that day. I wondered what would follow.

  Noah came to me before bedtime, in a solemn mood. I thought someone had said something to him, and I felt a tightening in my chest.

  ‘Mother, remember the dream I had?’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied.

  ‘I’d love to build an orphanage one day, to provide a good home for the boys I met on the outskirts.’ He sat on my knee. ‘Please, will you help me to build it, Mother?’

  ‘But you are too young to build an orphanage.’

  ‘But I’m not thinking of building it now. When I grow up, I mean.’

  ‘By the time you grow up, the orphans you came across will be adults, and they won’t need an orphanage anymore.’

  He remained thoughtful for a moment. ‘But there might be other young orphans then, you see. I would love to provide a home for them. Mother, will you help me, please?’ He took my hand imploringly.

  ‘If that’s what you want, yes, I’ll help you, my son,’ I said and smiled.

  He jumped up with a scream of delight. ‘Thank you, Mother!’

  ‘It’s time to go to bed now,’ I said sternly. ‘We have work to do on the farm tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, Mother.’

  I led him to his room and watched him climb into bed.

  ‘Goodnight, my son.’

  ‘Goodnight, Mother.’

  He closed his eyes and I left the room carrying the lantern.

  *

  I found it difficult to sleep that night.

  A new day was beginning to break when I finally closed my eyes, and I was fast asleep when Noah came to knock on my door. ‘Time to get to work, Mother.’ His voice seemed to come to me from a distant place.

  I rubbed sleep from my eyes and climbed out of bed. Noah greeted me with a hug. ‘We’re getting late for work,’ he said.

  ‘Give me a little while to get ready,’ I said.

  About thirty minutes later, we went out to the backyard.

  It was almost noon by the time we finished working and went inside for food and rest.

  I was in the kitchen preparing lunch when a loud knock came on our door. Noah rushed to see who was there.

  ‘Come back! Don’t open the door,’ I shouted, and went after him.

  But it was too late.

  Standing outside were five smallish men, who wore colourful beads around their necks. Their heads were bald and shiny, and they looked solemn, like creatures about to be sacrificed to the gods. Each had a fan of feathers in his hand. I knew them, but they stared blankly at me, as if I was a stranger. ‘We are the priests of the land,’ one of them spoke, ‘and I’m the High Priest. We act in the capacity of judges, and it’s our duty to pass judgements.’

  I was tempted to shut the door against them, but I knew that they must have come for an important reason. ‘And what judgements have you come to pass?’ I asked, holding his eyes fearlessly.

  ‘We have not come to pass any judgement now, but to give you notice of the judgement we will pass in five days’ time.’

  ‘And what is this judgement?’ I asked.

  ‘We will not come to pass judgement if you get married within the next five days. But if you fail to do so, the judgement shall be that your son can no longer remain in your custody.’

  Noah began to cry.

  ‘As judges, you are supposed to be fair men,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, we are fair men.’

  ‘And you are supposed to protect the rights of the helpless.’

  ‘No, as judges, we protect the laws of the gods of our land.’

  ‘What justice is there in protecting evil laws?’

  ‘We have simply come to perform our duty. We shall come back if the need demands.’ The five men turned as one and walked away.

  Noah was crying loudly now. I locked the door and pulled him to me. ‘We’ll leave tonight,’ I whispered to him. ‘We’ll go to a place where they can never find us. Where no one can ever take you away from me. Don’t cry, please.’

  But he only cried louder, holding tightly on to me. I raised my face up to heaven. It seemed to me that all that was up there was an empty vastness. I
broke down and wept with my son.

  FOUR

  We gathered a few of our most precious belongings into two small bags in the dead of night, and we were ready to leave the village. When we stepped out of the house, a cold, dark wind blew angrily against us, as if to prevent us from escaping.

  I carried both bags on my head, took Noah’s hand, and we sneaked away in the dark. The whole world appeared to be asleep; only the wind and the chirp of insects disturbed the night. I had instructed Noah to walk quietly, but he was soon dragging his feet behind me.

  ‘Mother,’ I heard him whisper.

  ‘Shh,’ I whispered back to him, holding him firmly by the hand.

  ‘Where are we going?’ His voice was cold with fear.

  ‘Shh.’

  A handful of stars in the sky cast a weak glow that seemed to hide the houses we passed rather than illuminate them. All the houses were asleep, with no sign of lanterns. The silence that followed us was surreptitious. Above the silence, the dark wind swallowed the sound of our feet as we walked along an uneven path that threatened to trip us at every step. And as we passed through Main Street, a shiver ran through me. The stalls had taken ghostly forms, and I thought that many eyes were watching our progress.

  I increased my pace. ‘Walk faster!’ I whispered to Noah, pulling him after me. Soon, we left the market behind us, and we were on the road that led to the outer limits of the village.

  ‘Where are we going, Mother?’ Noah asked, beginning to pant for breath.

  ‘Shh,’ I whispered. I had not thought of where to go. I wanted us to get far away from the village, then I would think of the next step. ‘We’re going where no one can ever take you away from me.’

  ‘Can we take a rest?’

  ‘Let’s go a little further, then we can take a rest.’