My heart palpitated the more I thought about all the scenarios. Evidence of Ifedi’s treachery was everywhere. They were subtle, but the pieces of the puzzle fit perfectly together. It was still hard to believe she was capable of the things my grandfather accused her of. Had the news been from a source other than my grandfather, I would not have considered even listening. Grandpa had left the resolution to me. He seemed so sure that I would know how to handle it. In my state, there was only one thing I felt I could do—hand her over to the authorities. Hopefully, she would confess and make things easy for everyone. But first, I needed to alert my grandmother.
* * *
I sauntered into my grandmother’s room after I made a slight recovery from the news I just received, or so I thought. There must have been remnants of shock on my face because the moment I opened the door, I heard her say, “Ona, what is it? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
After I told her everything I knew about Ifedi’s betrayal, she wrapped her arms around herself and shook like a leaf. She was rattled and speechless for a few minutes while I stared out of the window waiting for her to regain her composure.
“What is this Luenah?” she kept asking after she’d heard me mention it a few times.
I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. I painstakingly explained my mystical world and confessed to being transported there sometimes to meet Grandfather or to discover things on my own.
“Now, I’ve heard everything there is to hear in this world,” she exclaimed after I finished. “I know you go into your own world now and then, Ona, but who would have thought you had this whole other existence? When did this all start?”
“Ever since Papa died.”
“Hmm, Na wa o!”
It was clear to me that I had hurt my grandmother by keeping Luenah a secret from her. I had no regrets about not telling her earlier, though. I only wished I had told her under more relaxed circumstances. That would have made it easier to explain how I received those revelations from my grandfather.
“You are such a strange one, Ona,” she continued. “I always knew there was something about you, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Anyway, stranger things have happened.”
“Grandma, nothing can be stranger than how Okem came into our lives.”
“I’m still in shock about that too,” my grandmother said, waving her hand. “I also can’t believe what you’ve been through. And to think that you didn’t even breathe a word of it to me,” she concluded, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. You were so distraught about Papa. You never wanted anyone to bring him up in conversation.”
“I was trying to protect you. I knew how close you were to him,” she countered.
“I’m so sorry, Ma.”
“I’m sorry, too. These past few years must have been excruciating for you. If you had involved me, I would have helped you navigate these issues. You shouldn’t have tried to do it all on your own.”
“I agree. Sometimes, I wonder why I had to suffer so much to get to where I am right now. I endured Albert while Okem—my number one addiction, my passion, who was carefully sealed and specially delivered to me—languished away in the background.”
“Usually, we don’t need to look so far beyond ourselves to find the things we want the most,” my grandmother intimated.
“I know that now, Mama. My prince was right under my nose all this while, and I was busy searching all over the world trying to find him. Why did I have to kiss a frog to finally get to him? Why?”
I grabbed my stomach to suppress the gag making its way to my throat.
“I should think you would know the answer to that question by now, Ona. Aren’t you the one that’s been going in and out of this other world?”
“I do actually,” I said, grinning mischievously. “If I hadn’t kissed the frog, how would I have recognized the taste of my prince when I savored it?”
Her eyes widened, and she cackled.
“You are so right, my dear. It’s amazing what one can achieve if they make finding the truth their mission. And don’t forget, even though you took the wrong turn when you decided to marry Albert, that move eventually brought you to the right path. In the process, you got all the grooming you needed both on earth and in that other dimension. What did you call it?”
“Luenah!”
I laughed and pinched myself to confirm I wasn’t in Luenah. It felt as though my grandfather drove home a point through some sort of telepathic influence. I pictured him smiling and nodding wherever he was.
“Yes, that’s it. Nice name.”
“You should go there with me sometime.”
“No,” she snapped. “I think I’ll stay right here.”
* * *
Still in shock and in need of more avenues to relieve the tension I was feeling, I called Amah after I left my grandmother’s room. She had now settled beautifully into her program. I had to cover my ears as her screams when she heard me on the other end of the phone threatened to burst my eardrums.
She screamed even louder after I relayed everything that had happened to me, including the abuse I suffered in Albert’s hand.
“Hello, hello,” I kept saying to get her attention.
“Eh? What?” she continued. “Even with all his money and class, he was hitting you? Chinekemmee o. Almighty God.”
“Amah, calm down.”
“Calm down what?”
“Okay, keep screaming. I hope now you see the truth in the saying ‘not all that glitters is gold.’”
“Hmm, I see that now. But this one is too much. What will happen to Ifedi now? Chai.”
“I’ll have to turn her over to the authorities.”
“I can’t believe everything you’ve gone through. To think I was envious of you this whole time, wanting to be in your shoes.”
“My dear, we must all follow our own path. I still am so grateful for where I am today. Count your blessings, and let me count mine.”
* * *
My grandmother had wanted to immediately hand Ifedi over to the authorities and let them deal with her, but I convinced her otherwise. After careful thought, I figured it would do no good as Ifedi could deny every bit of the accusation and go scot-free. I thought of a plan to force a confession out of her. If it worked, then I would have absolute proof of her involvement in my grandfather’s demise, and if it didn’t, then I would be faced with a dilemma. Although I had no doubt my grandfather’s revelation was factual, I still battled with what I thought I knew about my impeccable nanny, turned companion.
I waited for everybody to go to sleep. At close to midnight when the only illumination from outside were the street lamps from the homes in the valley, I snuck into my grandfather’s bedroom to search for the gourd used to serve his nightly palm wine. I recalled exactly where my grandmother placed it. Many a night, I had helped my grandmother retrieve it from the shelf on the small storage adjoining his bedroom. I prayed Ifedi hadn’t discarded it to obliterate evidence of the crime. But so many years had passed. Even if it was still available, any traces of poison may now be undetectable, I thought.
I was elated when I entered the storage room and found the gourd and the drinking bowl my grandfather enjoyed his nightly palm wine with, sitting in its familiar position. I gasped almost too loudly and had to place my hand over my mouth to keep any more sounds from coming out of it. My eyes watered as I stood there for a second staring at the gourd and wondering if I had the strength to reach for it. I finally grabbed it and experienced shockwaves running through my spine. Holding both the gourd and the cup to my chest, I walked into the bedroom and sat on my grandfather’s bed for a few minutes, and allowed the tears in my eyes to flow freely down my cheeks as I pondered if my plan would work. Something in my head—my instinct, I believe—told me to go ahead.
I went back to my room and waited until the first morning light. Thinking about everything and what the future might hold for all of us and mostly if the mission I was about to
embark on would be successful, robbed me of sleep that night. I needed to be alert, so I could act before Ifedi, who was usually out and about by six got up to start her morning chores. By force of habit, every morning, right before she prepared breakfast for the family, she took a moment and had some bread and tea, all the while whistling the same tune I’d become accustomed to for years.
At five, I snuck into the kitchen and placed the gourd and cup on the small table where she usually ate her bread and tea. I even poured in a little palm wine I found in the fridge before heading to my room and waiting till the clock struck six. Just as I’d expected, I heard Ifedi whistling in the hallway. I counted to thirty before I crept downstairs and proceeded to watch her through the gap in the kitchen door. She opened the fridge and brought out a loaf of bread. With her cup of tea in her hand, she headed to the chair and table in the corner, but she didn’t make it halfway through. The teacup dropped on the floor, making a loud crashing sound right before Ifedi fell on her knees with a thud.
“Ifedi!” I screamed, running towards her.
She turned around to look at me. For a moment, terror was written all over her face, and then it was gone, like the sun disappearing into the sea at dusk.
I heard my grandmother scampering down the stairs, and in a flash, she arrived in the kitchen.
“Ogini? What is it?” she yelled, panting heavily when she saw Ifedi on her knees and the teacup scattered all over the floor.
Ifedi attempted to rise, but lost her balance and tried again. I stretched out my arm to help her, but she swatted it as though I was a fly and jumped on her feet. Now, her lips were pursed, and her brown eyes stared into the distance. Sweat was running down her forehead.
“It’s Ifedi,” I said in a triumphant tone as my grandmother continued to stare.
Ifedi glared at me as she adjusted her wrapper, which by now had loosened to expose a fair amount of her heaving breasts. My grandmother looked on in awe and shook her head before turning on her heels. That was when she sighted the gourd.
“What on earth is this doing here?” she said, to no one in particular.
“I...I...don’t know,” Ifedi muttered.
“Ona,” my grandmother called.
“Grandma.”
“Who put this here?”
I chuckled, sans humor but refused to answer. My plan had worked more than I could ever have anticipated. I didn’t know what was going through Ifedi’s head, but I knew what was needed next.
* * *
I, my grandmother, and two older members of our family confronted Ifedi in the dining room at my grandmother’s house. One look at her told me she was as guilty as sin.
“Ifedi,” I said, facing her squarely. “So, you only came here to destroy this home?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, shifting her gaze from place to place, feigning ignorance.
“Ona, let me handle this,” my grandmother demanded. “I need to cut to the chase. There’s no time for nonsensical talk right now. Ifedi, do you know what happened to my husband?” she asked Ifedi, who was standing a few feet from her.
“Your husband? No.” Ifedi said, grimacing and shrugging her shoulders.
“I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with,” Grandma continued. “I’m going to call the police to arrest you right now if you don’t tell the truth. I’m sure they’ll be able to beat the truth out of your mouth.”
“I-I didn’t do anything, Ma.”
“You’re such a good liar,” I said, shaking my head. “Had I not ignored my instincts, I would have figured you out all these years.”
“Ifedi, say the truth,” my grandmother yelled hysterically. “The truth will set you free. Say the truth!”
Ifedi shifted nervously in her position. My grandmother’s reaction had succeeded in getting her to understand the seriousness of her situation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ma,” she pleaded, dipping her index finger on her tongue before pointing it to the ceiling and swearing she did not know what happened to my grandfather.
“Don’t worry, Mama,” I said. “The person with the proof that she poisoned Papa’s palm wine is bringing it tomorrow. Maybe then, she’ll realize this is not a joke and start cooperating.”
“What proof,” Ifedi asked, her chest heaving intensely up and down.
“Ifedi, stop these denials. Your accomplices ratted out your actions to the authorities,” I lied, hoping she would fall for it and confess.
She fell for my fib and realizing the enormity of her situation, with the events from that morning and talk about poison and accomplices, a truth I learned in Luenah, she began to flail her hands and point fingers.
“It’s Ozumba and Ekema,” she screeched. “I had nothing against your grandfather. They’re the ones you should be harassing, not me.”
“Did you help Ozumba and Ekema accomplish their mission?” The first elder asked in a calm tone. “I’m asking because you haven’t said anything about your involvement. Did you poison the palm wine or not?”
“I can’t believe you’re listening to this spoilt brat,” she said, pointing in my direction. “I have a reputation to protect. What does she have? She goes around town running after two boys like she has no shame. What were you doing in Okem’s hotel? Have you no shame?”
I stared with my mouth open as she continued to rain insults on me.
“Shut up!” my grandmother yelled when she couldn’t bear it anymore. “Are you mad, Ifedi?”
“I’m not mad, Ma. I was just trying to say—”
“You were trying to say what? Enough! Anuofia, wild animal. I don’t want to hear pim from you again. One more word from you, and I’ll give you a dirty slap. Not only did you kill my husband, but you sent Albert after my granddaughter to finish her off. Instead of responding to the allegations, you’re pointing fingers at everyone. The worst part is that you stand in front of me, in my own house, and call Ona such awful names, and you say you’re not mad.”
While my grandmother was yelling at Ifedi, I felt thousands of goosebumps rising on my skin, and a feeling of déjà vu crept all over me. I recalled how Albert had treated me after he turned me into his punching bag. Ifedi’s attack was an identical scenario, only, it presented itself in a different situation. My grandfather had told me one time I was in Luenah that the culprit always looks for someone else to blame for their actions. A lot of times, they blame the victim, the one who has suffered the most already, only because they’re easy bait.
“It’s just a ploy,” he had said, “to further manipulate the victim and milk them to the very last drop. That is the way of bullies when they’re confronted.” Thank God for that lesson because I didn’t fall for the tactic this time. I pitied Ifedi and wished things could have been different. She had been a wonderful teacher and companion. Who knew she was so evil? All those years living under my grandparent’s roof, and we never sniffed her out. She will have to spend the rest of her life in jail, at least that’s the penalty for killing a human being here in Ntebe.
Chapter Twenty-two
THE POLICE SIREN jolted me out of bed later that afternoon. Through the window, I could see two armed policemen stepping out of their vehicle. My grandmother was running frantically towards them as she wrapped the ankara cloth around her chest. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I knew there was trouble when my grandmother placed both hands over her head, and the policemen rushed past her into the house. I threw on my robe and ran to the living room downstairs to see what was going on.
“She has run away,” my grandmother shrieked when she saw me.
“What do you mean she has run away,” I asked, just as the policemen returned to the room.
“Mama, we’re leaving now,” one of the men said with utmost urgency. “We have to search the vicinity before she skips town.”
Ifedi had disappeared without a trace from the home we all shared for so many years. My grandmother had asked her to pac
k her belongings and leave the house after our earlier confrontation. We had expected the police to arrive within minutes to interrogate her, but she beat us to it and absconded before the policemen turned up, while my grandmother and the two elders waited patiently in the sitting room. We couldn’t tell if she fled through the window in her room or through an act of magic because the only two valid exits in the home were guarded at the time she made her escape. We later heard that Ozumba had vanished too. Ekema wasn’t so lucky. She was captured by officers at the gate of the city as she tried to abscond.
* * *
Ekema’s trial was short. They sentenced her to twenty-five years in prison for murder and treason. Right before she was to leave to serve her sentence, Okem confronted her in the prison cell. I insisted on going with him and waited in the shadows as he approached her. She was crouched in a corner chanting obscenities and drawing images on the ground with white chalk. At first, she refused to speak to him, but when she realized he wasn’t going anywhere, she stared at him with blood-shot eyes, filled with anger and hatred, and yelled, “Get away from here, you murderer. I don’t know who asked you to come here. Go back to where you belong.”
The Place Beyond Her Dreams Page 17