“If it’s my gift, why do I need to give something?”
“Things work a little differently in Luenah. Since you’ve been chosen to be a member, you have to give something in return. To embark on your mission—”
“Go on. Enlighten her,” the King’s voice boomed, shaking the ground underneath me.
My grandfather nodded once.
“Remember what I told you about Ani?” he said.
“I do. I remember it clearly. That was when I found out I was an Eri. I remember that first visit to Luenah as though it was yesterday.”
“Well, to honor Ani’s request to allow earthly humans into Luenah, she was mandated to exchange something valuable.”
“What could she have given in exchange?”
“She was forced to give up access to Luenah, a place she loved beyond imagination. She spent the rest of her days interceding for her people and bringing balance back to earth. Just like Ani, every Eri must surrender something important as they embark on their mission to give something back to humanity.”
My eyes darted to the box in my hand as I pondered the meaning behind his assertions and what I was expected to give in exchange.
“What about me? What am I expected to give?” I finally asked after I found the courage to speak.
“It is for you to discover. You’ll figure it out on the path to discovering your purpose.”
“My purpose?”
“Yes. Once you discover it, you’ll be on your way to accomplishing your assignment in Luenah. Start by asking yourself what you care about the most. Do you know what that is?”
He was looking down at me as he waited for an answer.
I took a moment to consider what the best response could be in these pristine surroundings. Besides being with my family, there were only two things I craved more than anything else in this world.
“Love and happiness,” I said, certain it was best to be completely honest.
To my surprise, everyone in the throne room, except for my grandfather, laughed.
“That’s what I care about the most in this world,” I whined, embarrassed, and disappointed that they found my desires amusing.
“In that case,” my grandfather continued amidst the chatter, “think carefully before you surrender yourself or anything as it may affect the joy of your pursuit. And keep in mind what I told you the first time we met in Luenah—that it doesn’t matter when you get to your destination. What matters is that you enjoy the journey. When you surrender the goal, you’ll enjoy the journey more”
I shook my head repeatedly to make it obvious I still needed clarification.
“You’ll understand in due time,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll leave something with you, though. Try not to focus on finding happiness. Doing so may leave you disappointed in the end. The choices one makes on the quest for happiness may end up causing distress after the goal has been achieved. Rather, focus on finding your passion—a key requirement for living a purposeful life.”
“My passion?”
“As your grandfather told you, you’ll understand everything in due time,” the King said, gesturing to one of his guards to usher me out of his presence.
* * *
I was back to earth before I could utter a word in response. My grandfather’s words still rang in my ears after I returned to reality. I couldn’t believe all I’d just heard. I considered the fact that I was an Eri a blessing, and since it explained the reveries and visions since I was a kid, I felt a greater sense of self than I had ever known in my life. That encounter was the first time I ever wondered if I would fulfill my purpose or if I even knew for sure what my purpose was on earth. I always knew that I wanted to be a big shot lawyer, but from what I learned in this visit, it may or may not have something to do with my purpose. Considering my mission as an Eri was tied directly to this purpose, I became extremely agitated. I didn’t want to be responsible for disrupting the balance in Luenah if I failed in accomplishing that mission, whatever it may be. From my understanding, doing so could also disrupt the balance on earth. I stopped short when I remembered the importance of the ‘exchange’ I was supposed to give, something I would only find out on the path to discovering my purpose. I shook my head to make sense of everything that was going on inside of it. Since my grandfather had mentioned I would understand in due time, I reminded myself to be patient. It was only then that I relaxed and got ready to celebrate turning eighteen.
Chapter Five
“COME IN,” I yelled after a loud knock on my door drew my attention from my thoughts. My meeting with Grandfather still clouding my senses, I pulled the covers over my shoulders and waited patiently to see who it was. I almost froze when Okem gingerly walked in, holding a bouquet he had picked from my grandmother’s garden with both hands, a cheerful smile plastered across his face. Looking dark and mysterious, his eyes bored through mine as though to savor the joy he knew his gift was bound to deliver. I had been suppressing feelings for him for a while—a fact I was confronted with during this encounter. The look he gave me, which I returned with equal fervor, was different from any I had ever shared with him, or with anyone else for that matter. It felt nice and safe. As he handed me the bouquet and kissed my cheeks, the butterflies in my stomach fluttered noiselessly as my body slowly warmed up. I was certain my face was red even though the coloring wouldn’t have been visible through my brown skin.
“Thank you, Okem,” I said, looking up at him.
“You’re welcome, my dear. Happy birthday to you! Wishing you many more blissful years.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, sniffing the flowers. “These are gorgeous.”
“Ona,” he called, startling me. “You’ve become truly beautiful,” he said. “Your eyes...”
“What about them?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.
“They’re the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen. And those legs...”
“Okem stop!” I said, giggling.
“No problem. What I’d like you to know is when you’re older, and I’ve made something of myself, really made it, I’ll ask you to marry me.”
Wide-eyed, I laughed, turning my face away and pulling the covers over my head with my free hand.
Okem removed the covers and smiled at me, his eyes revealing so much tenderness and conviction at the same time. The combination of the two disarmed me.
“You’re serious?” I said, almost choking on my words.
“You don’t believe me?”
“Don’t you have to finish school first?”
“I know...I know,” he said in a serious tone and then chuckled softly as he took my hand and gently caressed it with his thumb. “You have to trust that I meant every word of it.”
I adjusted myself on the bed and discreetly rolled my eyes. My skin still a bit flushed, I sought to deflect his marriage chatter but words failed me.
“Anyway, what are we doing for your birthday?” Okem continued.
I let go of my bashfulness and looked up at the exceptionally handsome man standing next to me. His arms and square shoulders radiated strength, and he possessed a quiet confidence which made him even more attractive to me. It was the first time I’d ever viewed him this way. As I continued to stare, he took the bouquet from my hand, and with purpose and authority, he walked towards the writing desk and placed it in an empty vase he saw sitting there. With his back turned away from me, I cracked my brain about this mysterious boy—no, man—that came into my life not even up to a decade ago. How mischievous he must be to talk to me about marriage. But there was nothing mischievous about the way he said it. And his smile afterwards? That floored me.
My mind flew to the first time Okem came to live with us. He was the strangest little thing I’d ever seen. I recalled how he used to fight the other kids—the bullies—who made fun of his clothes. And how all those insults didn’t stop him from wanting to hang around me all the time. With these differences between us—our status, birthright, and so on—the love we had for each
other remained intact. With time, I viewed him differently from how other people saw him. He often told me he was a prince, and I remember making a paper crown for him using cereal boxes and watercolor. He wore it gallantly while we played. It was all fun and games for me, but Okem took those games seriously, and he got annoyed when I laughed at his impression of a prince.
Okem and I had remained close until I turned thirteen and my body started filling out. That was the year he turned sixteen. From then on, my grandmother began keeping a watchful eye on us. The day I saw my first period, she invited me to her room and made me sit right beside her on the bed. She’d pulled my earlobe and told me everything she felt I needed to survive from then on. It was mostly things I needed to avoid. No boys, no this, no that. Okem bore the brunt of it. He could no longer play in my room, but I was okay with that. My body had gone through radical changes, ones that I found embarrassing, which made me need more space than ever. And with my hourly mood swings, I became less fun to hang around.
* * *
By the time Okem was completing his final year at university, I was in my second year studying for a Law degree. Still, we remained fond of each other. His school was an hour’s drive away from mine, but he always visited me once a week to hang out. We would go shopping, dining, and to the movies, and at the end of each semester, he drove me home for the holidays. My dependence on Okem increased by the day as I relied on him for everything. Our lives, and sometimes our thoughts, were intertwined. We finished each other’s sentences and understood each other’s moods with little verbal communication. He was my best friend. Strange how this boy whose presence I once rejected and rebelled against any form of friendship with, had become a major part of my life.
My grandmother noticed our closeness. She saw it as adorable at first, but over the years, as our special bond developed, she realized we were too old for our relationship to be mistaken as platonic any longer.
“How is Okem?” she asked, with her brows furrowed after she saw me lying aimlessly on the sofa during the holidays.
“I miss him so much,” I said, sighing and retreating into a dream state.
“You miss him that much?”
“Yes! He’s my best friend. And all my other friends have traveled for the holidays. Had I known this holiday would be like this, I would have stayed back in Ajidi.”
“Why Ajidi?”
“To be near him!”
She was taken aback by my response. From her expression afterwards, I could tell something was bothering her. Have I been completely oblivious to her concerns? I believed that I had been too forward with my feelings for Okem, but I couldn’t help it. It just came out. Okem had been off at school, taking his finals, and I hadn’t seen him in a month—a really long time for us to be apart. I was due back to school in three weeks, and there was no telling when I could see him again as he was extremely busy. I didn’t think I could bear it any longer, but the truth was, thinking about Okem wasn’t the only reason my holiday was turning into a dream fest. My travails in Luenah were top of mind, too. It didn’t help that I couldn’t go there on my own—I had to be summoned—a sad situation for me because I always got direction and wisdom whenever I visited. But since I couldn’t tell my grandmother about Luenah without sounding crazy, I stuck to the topic of Okem.
“Grandma, don’t you miss Okem around the house?” I asked. It was my best attempt to cover up my forwardness.
“I do. But not as much as you. I see you moping around every day, and it worries me.”
I chuckled and hid my face in embarrassment.
“That reminds me,” my grandmother continued, pretending not to notice the effect her words had on me. “Albert’s mother asked about you the other day.”
“She did?” I asked, pursing my lips.
“Yes. She did.” My grandmother was nodding elatedly. “You and Albert seem to get along really well.”
“How can you tell?” I asked, smiling in confusion, and resisting the urge to shake my head.
“It’s quite obvious.” She was grinning.
“Grandma,” I yelled in embarrassment.
“Yes?”
“Stop saying such things. I’m not ready for such talk!”
“What do you mean? What do you want me to say?” she responded, shaking her head and raising both hands to the ceiling, as though seeking answers from a divine source. “Look, Ona, you’re old enough to marry, and Okem is not on your level, so you may as well get serious about Albert instead of moping around all day. I can’t imagine anyone better for you.”
My hands had flown to my chest as she was speaking. Her words never failed to surprise me. It was unclear what she meant by “Okem is not on your level,” but one thing was clear to me. My grandmother seemed to be encouraging a relationship with Albert—a man I hardly knew.
* * *
Albert was a crown prince—the heir to the throne of Ide kingdom. Ide, the same town that throughout history has clashed with my people in Ntebe. The clashes had never prevented associations between the two towns as the indigenes had a lot in common, which also made both areas fertile ground for intermarrying. Albert’s father, the Ideme—the King of Ide—had ruled Ide for so many years, and rumor had it that he planned to hand over the throne to Albert soon. He wanted to ensure a successful transfer of the staff of office to his son, and the only way he could guarantee that was to complete the transfer in his lifetime. Judging from history, a wide range of unexpected circumstances, including attempts to usurp the throne, could obstruct such a transfer if an incumbent king dies without completing the required steps.
My grandmother saw nothing wrong with a union with someone from Ide. Albert was the most eligible bachelor in Ide and Ntebe put together, and he seemed to adore me. I thought Albert was sweet and kind and, as far as looks were concerned, he was tall, with a nice facial structure, although a little too tapered for my liking. The things he had going most for him were his charisma and his wit. He also carried himself with confidence, as is expected for his position. His good qualities, coupled with the fact that he treated me with utmost kindness and respect, encouraged me to throw my misgivings for Ide out of the window.
Chapter Six
MY FIRST MEETING with Albert had been purely accidental. I ran into him. Yes, literally. I was running out of a shop in Ajidi on a rainy night and began crossing the road when his car came to a screeching halt barely two feet away from me. I stood in the middle of the street, stunned at what almost became the end of me when this dark figure took my hand and led me to a safe spot in the corner. The streetlights were off, and high up in the sky was the crescent left over by the waning moon. He muttered something as he tapped me lightly on the cheek to get me out of my daze. The few people who had seen the near-accident stood by, watching and chattering.
“Give her room to breathe,” Albert had pleaded. He had been trying to say something, and the increasingly noisy crowd wouldn’t let him hear himself, let alone get across to me.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” he repeated slowly.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Move... move,” he pleaded, waving his hand at the crowd.
Some unwillingly dispersed, while a handful meandered still.
“You,” Albert said, pointing at me. “I’m not sure what’s going on in your mind, but you should have known better than to step out on the street like that.” He spoke in a patronizing tone.
At first, I was so bewildered that I could not think of the right words to say to him. I simply peered at him. I did not like this rude stranger at all.
“I should have known better?” I whispered when I finally found my voice. “What does that even mean?”
“Hey! I was only trying to help. Calm down!”
“I should calm down?” I yelled. What kind of person says that to someone they almost ran over?”
“No one talks to me like that! Does she know who I am?” he asked, shooting a
glance at the people standing around.
“Maybe the nearest psychiatrist hospital will have the answer to that question,” I said, scoffing at his arrogance.
“What did you say?”
I could have sworn that I saw the veins on his neck popping in the dimly lit street as the people that witnessed the altercation between us chuckled to themselves. Ignoring his rants, I emerged from the horde, but I could feel his eyes watching my back as I jumped into a waiting taxi and headed straight for my hostel.
* * *
The following day, Amah, who was attending the same university in Ajidi, barged into my room as I tried to catch a few minutes of sleep and announced that I had a visitor in the lobby. Standing at five-feet-five-inches tall—the same height as me—Amah’s ebony black skin glistened in the midday light as she wiggled her tiny waist in the fitted camisole dress she had on as she spoke.
“Is it the dry cleaner’s boy?” I asked, getting out of my bed, happy that the clothes I’d sent for cleaning were finally being delivered.
“Dry cleaner ke?” Amah chirped. “Except if the dry cleaner wears a two-thousand-pound designer watch.”
“Amah, who is it then? Doesn’t this person have a name?”
“He didn’t give his name. I heard him asking the caretaker for Ona, and I offered to come and get you. Did I commit a crime?” she asked, chuckling and shaking her head.
“It’s probably someone from my grandmother. But she just sent my uncle with some provisions last week. Anyway, I won’t put it beyond her to start worrying if I have everything I need so soon after—”
“Ona, believe me,” Amah interjected, her tongue still as sharp as ever, “this one is not from your grandmother.”
“Then who can it be?”
“Why don’t you go down and find out yourself.”
“Okay, Amah. I’ll be right down.”
I took off my robe and threw on some clothes before heading down the stairs leading to the lobby. From a distance, I noticed a tall, svelte stranger in faded blue jeans and a black dress shirt waiting patiently with his car keys dangling in his hand. The dark shadows from the night before had obscured his features, but as I got closer, I recognized Albert. Thinking there had been a mistake, I immediately turned on my heel, but he strode forward and stopped right in front of me, blocking me from moving.
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