by Reni K Amayo
She had prepared herself for the snide remarks and sideward glances, but she was not prepared to find this beautiful cloth sprawled over her akwa nest the night before the party, with a note that read,
A coming-of-age is a blessing. Cherish this gift — the mothers of the court.
Sinai had cried at such generosity, and spent that evening smiling and talking to everyone who walked past her. It had been a wonderful night. The following day, however, she was met with the usual coldness and detachment. It seemed as though things had gone back to normal. Nonetheless, Sinai basked in the glow of that night for months after.
The rich, gold and green garment was the first outfit that came to her mind when she thought of what she would chose to die in.
Sinai’s hair also looked regal, intricately plaited, thanks to Ina and Chisi’s skilful hands. Ina had also lent Sinai one of her coral headdresses. Sinai had never felt so majestic in her life. She hugged Ina and Chisi as they saw her out.
‘You look … presentable,’ Ina had said stiffly.
‘Thank you,’ Sinai had replied, as she blinked away tears.
She took another sharp breath, turned away from the view of the spot where Meeluku had died, and continued down the mesmerising hallway. Finally she approached a pair of large luxurious golden doors; she had never seen an entrance as extravagant. This must be the Eze’s quarters, she thought wistfully.
No guards, she mused, before falling into the immense beauty of the doors. They were carved with various scenes from the gods’ war: Ikenga’s fall; the burning of the city of Igwe Ojii; Agwu’s double-cross, and, at the centre, a large triumphant Eze stood with the Mother’s crystal raised high above his head. The coward didn’t bother to put the Mother’s image on his pompous wall, she thought. Suddenly a loud crack sounded, and Sinai took a step back as the golden doors sprang open.
Sinai gasped. She was seconds away from turning on her heels and dashing off. Something held her back.
‘Ndewo Sinai,’ came the Eze’s resounding voice as he beckoned her to enter his quarters. Before she could reply, a strong force dragged her inside. Sinai struggled with no avail, she tried to fling her arms but they didn’t move, she tried to kick her legs but they remained limp. Her eyes were pinned on the open doors, as she willed herself to escape, to run as far as she could from the Eze.
I shouldn’t be here, she thought desperately, as she stood frozen in place, watching the golden doors shut firmly behind her.
THE HIDDEN VILLAGERS
CITY OF NRI
THE CITY of Nri seeped through the cart and into the tight box that held Naala’s aching body. The ringing voices of street sellers haggling for higher prices, the high-pitched sounds of what seemed to be armies of children laughing freely, the scent of live animals, flavoured spices, a chorus of drums, carts, bells—they all rushed through Naala.
Though Naala couldn’t yet see the city, her imagination was rich with an arsenal of images derived from years of listening attentively to guests. She could visualise the cobbled streets, the rows of open markets, the stacks of houses leading up the grand palace. Naala had dreamt of exploring Nri for as long as she could remember. She had seen herself picking out the exotic spices in the market, climbing the mighty wall that encircled the city, and dancing the night away at the famed street festivals. She had not imagined being brought through the city locked within a tight wooden box, as she prepared herself to steal the Eze’s most treasured asset.
The cart came to another sudden stop, and Naala held her breath. Not again, she thought.
‘Ayy Chinaka, is that you? Welcome!’
‘Quick, Soki, help me with these boxes.’
‘So you cannot even say a simple ndewo first. Chinaka, it’s been weeks since I saw you last.’
‘Ndewo Soki,’ Chinaka said, as he paused to cross his palms over this chest. ‘Now, please, help me with these boxes.’
‘Oh my, it’s so heavy! We need to call the children. Ijemma, call your brothers and sisters to help with these boxes.’
Naala’s heart pounded with anticipation. The closer she came to being released, the more desperate she felt. Get me out of here! she wanted to scream, but all she could do was press her fists against the rigid planks. Soon enough, she felt a lightness in her stomach as the box lifted into the air and a new warm light bled through the wood. Without warning, the box was dropped harshly on the ground and Naala bit her lip to stop herself from yelping in pain.
Naala heard heavy footsteps walking away from her and her heart skipped a beat as the sound of a daga hacking away at her cage became increasingly apparent. She pushed against the wood to hasten the process.
‘If you don’t put them hands away, this daga will slice right through them,’ a woman’s voice cautioned. However, Naala did not care. If it meant that she could escape her cage just a second earlier, she would have gleefully sacrificed both her hands.
A sharp clang resonated through the floor as the daga was dropped in haste.
‘I told you, girl!’ the woman warned. Naala gripped her fists tightly. You need hands for the task at hand, she told herself. Naala waited for the frayed lid to burst open. Finally a wave of light showered over her and Naala could finally stretch her arm. The relief of being able to move was met with a painful twinge as her locked muscles awoke.
Another pair of hands clawed at the wooden lid and helped Naala draw back the planks. Once there was enough room to allow it, the stranger’s hands pulled her out of the box. Naala cried in a mixture of pain and relief; tears ran down her face as she stretched out her aching back.
The woman scuttled over with a bowl of a thick waxy substance. She dipped her hand in the wax and began to spread it on Naala’s joints. Naala didn’t object because the wax cooled against her skin and soothed the aches in her muscles.
‘Thank you,’ Naala murmured, as the woman handed the wax to Eni who was stretching.
Naala watched as Eni’s toned muscles flexed underneath his pecan brown skin; his body shook slightly and Naala’s heart fluttered. She looked up to find him staring at her.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his eyes roaming over her with concern.
‘Yes,’ Naala said sharply, as she broke his gaze and looked at her surroundings.
They were in a small living area. The wall behind her was filled with an array of beautiful and colourful artefacts, and to the right was an open window. Naala looked out at the buzzing street, with the grand palace brooding in the background.
‘So this is the city,’ Naala murmured.
‘A bit of it,’ the merchant said. ‘The crappy bit,’ he added with a chuckle, as the woman that Naala assumed to be his wife slapped his arm.
The merchant’s smile was bright and settled on his face easily. His eyes sparkled with stories and jokes. His brown-leathered skin was sun-beaten, and he stood with a slouch. He was designed to be likable, to filter in and out of different groups with ease. Naala didn’t like it. His smooth transition with the guards, charming rapport with his wife despite his apparent promiscuity—this was not a man to be trusted. Yet here they all stood, in his home with their lives planted firmly in his hands.
‘So what exactly is the plan? You said that you would give us more detail here?’ Naala asked firmly. The merchant responded with yet another easy smile.
‘In a hurry to save the world, eh?’ he chuckled, before turning to his wife. ‘Soki, please get the clothes, the ones from Abyssinia. After some slight adjustments we will have a group of travelling nobles in our home.’
‘We’re posing as nobles again.’ Madi sighed, nervousness spreading across his face; the mission had become real.
‘How else will you get near the Eze’s court?’ the merchant asked with an easy laugh, before inspecting them. ‘Soki,’ he called loudly. ‘Get the hooded cape for the impatient girl, her hair would not match their style at all.’
‘Just one hood?’ his wife called from the other room.
‘Two,’ Eni sudd
enly said, causing everyone to look confused. The merchant glanced at Kora.
‘No, the other girl’s hair will do, even her tribal scars are fine too; I’ve seen some of their women adopt that style.’
‘We’ll have two hoods please, not for Kora—for me … I’d prefer to wear a hood also,’ Eni added.
The merchant smirked. ‘Very well,’ he murmured. ‘Two hoods, Soki.’
The woman brought colourful garments piled in her arms. She handed them out one by one, and after some inspection, they all began to get into their new attire.
‘Soki, what of the scented oils?’
‘What about it? You did not tell me to get any scents,’ the woman scowled.
‘Soki, I said they are dressing as Abyssinian nobles. When have you ever seen an Abyssinia noble without a cloud of sweet smells?’
‘Chinaka, you know those are the only things I like in all the rubbish you bring back. My bottle is almost empty; I told you to pick one up during your last trip but you refused and now you want to give what is left to them?’
‘Soki, what are you saying? Is it my fault that your natural scent is so ravishing? Am I the one that you should blame? Come boy—abeg you smell this woman, and tell me if you would bastardise that sweet scent with nonsense oils!’ The merchant attempted to pull a hesitant Madi over to his wife.
‘Chinaka, you are trouble-o!’ Soki cried, as she tried and failed to hide her smile.
‘Please, my love, get that scent now so that we can send these people off and I can have what I’ve been missing for weeks,’ the merchant pleaded, as his wife hushed him before skipping out of the room.
The merchant eyes squinted as he continued his final inspection.
‘Good; you all look good. Once you have the scented oils, you will be ready,’ he muttered, turning his head towards the door. ‘Soki,’ he called.
‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ Soki said, as she strolled in with a dark bottle in her hands. She handed it reluctantly over to Chinaka who proceeded to rub each of them heavily with the oil; it smelt of jasmine, rose, and a spice that Naala didn’t know. Kora sneezed loudly in response.
‘What now?’ Naala asked.
The merchant walked to the window, ‘I have a cart that will escort you to the palace; from there you will meet with Okeke, another member of the akwụna. He will pose as your palace guide, and take you to the Obis’ court, the home of some of the greatest artefacts that man has known.’ The merchant peered outside. ‘No one but the mmo girl should touch that crystal. Do you hear me? Only she can take it out of that room. Once you have the crystal, you will be escorted back here—you must return by nightfall at the latest. Any later than that and you will be on your own. Soki, the kids and I, will be gone, and you will have no way out of this palace.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ Naala couldn’t help but ask. ‘You’ve risked your life; you have to move your entire family: why?’ The more the words tumbled out of her mouth, the more suspicious she felt.
The merchant’s face was sombre. Raising his arms and allowing his sleeves to fall, he revealed deep burns across both forearms. He then made his right hand into a fist and hit softly against his left breast three times, a gesture that Naala had only seen once from a visitor from a village in Osisi, one of the first rumoured to fall to the Eze’s wrath. The people of that village marked rings around their arms for each year that they were born. Naala looked at the merchant’s burned arms, a brutal cover-up to protect his village origins. He blinked tears away before lowering his hands.
‘Just get here with the crystal before nightfall,’ he said softly, before falling into one of his easy smiles, his face completely rid of all its former pain.
WOODEN DARTS
CITY OF NRI
NAALA WAS thankful for her hood as she walked through the majestic palace. She was certain that the shock and awe, imprinted on her face since she walked into the palace, would give her away instantly. Naala marvelled at the craftsmanship and beauty that exuded from every wall. Even the floors were paved with sparkling marble. Naala had only ever seen that material in Chief Ofo’s stick; here it was so common that people walked on it.
Naala was completely astounded, but also perplexed. The Eze walked around this palace knowing that it was completely his. The soldiers came back to the palace as gods, staying in the most pristine living quarters. How could they, in the midst of all this beauty, still choose to commit such heinous crimes? How could they slaughter innocent people, and then return to bask in this splendour?
Naala turned to Eni, curious what he thought of the palace, but that curiosity faded. Something was wrong. Eni had shifted his hood back and he looked around questioningly.
‘What’s wrong?’ Naala asked, trying to spot what was making him uneasy.
‘We’re going the wrong way,’ Eni murmured, before he marched towards Okeke, the large round man, who was posing as their guide. Okeke had greeted them enthusiastically at the entrance, bowing low and showering them with compliments. He had taken them around the palace, explaining the extravagant paintings and carvings with a passion that made Naala question if he indeed knew that they were here to steal back the Mother’s crystal, and not learn about the artists’ depictions of the many battles fought over the years.
Naala watched curiously as Eni spoke to Okeke. The large man had a worried look that soon melted into one of relief as Eni gestured at the halls behind them.
‘Yes, yes of course, I always miss that turn! Thank you, young man, that’s a good eye you have there. I definitely need to drink more herbal tea, my age is catching up to me!’ he replied, before turning to the group. ‘Sorry, sorry, I missed a turning—please, can we all just turn here, yes—sorry, it won’t happen again, I am awake now!’ The man laughed nervously as he bowed apologetically before hurrying ahead leading them through yet another network of halls.
‘How did you know?’ Naala asked, as she caught up with Eni.
‘I didn’t know—it just felt like the wrong way,’ he replied, as Naala frowned. What did that mean? He added, ‘I’ve heard this route described over and over again, and it felt like we were going the wrong way.’
Naala opened her mouth to protest, but fell silent when two nobles past them. She was not at all satisfied with his response, but did not have time to get to grips with it now. Naala instead focused on getting the Mother’s crystal out of the palace, and addressing Eni and his bizarre behaviour when they were out of harm’s way.
Before long, they approached a large impressive set of doors with two guards, decked with the royal attire, standing in front. Naala’s heart quickened as she noted the gleaming abaras at their sides. The sight of those green glowing weapons filled her with dread, as the voices of dead villagers echoed in her ears.
‘Ndewo, ndewo,’ Okeke said with a slight bow, as he brought his palms towards his chest and let them fall towards the guards. ‘I’m here with some members of the Tsega family. Nobles from Abyssinia. They have requested to see the famous Obi court,’ Okeke exclaimed pridefully.
‘Get out of here, swindler. You are not a member of the official tour guide. You should not be guiding anyone,’ one of the guards said dismissively, causing Naala’s stomach to flip with fright. It’s all over, she thought. What now?
‘Ozo, I am not a swindler. Yes, I am not an official guide yet—but I am a highly regarded server, so much so that these fine people requested me, and me specifically. They have come over here and they should be able to see the room. I can wait outside with you, if you please, but please do not punish these people because they chose to bless me with the honour of guiding them.’
‘Get away from here,’ the guard said sternly.
‘I—I have a parchment, an official parchment signed by the head of the official tour guides, giving me access to the court. Please, Ozo,’ Okeke pleaded, as he scrambled in his garment and pulled out a parchment before handing it to the guard. He grabbed it and tore it to pieces.
‘I’m
not going to ask you again,’ the other guard said, as he shoved Okeke back and placed his hand on the hilt of his abara.
‘Why do you have to make this so difficult?’ Okeke sighed, before snapping his fingers twice. Suddenly, wooden darts whistled through the air and hit both guards in the neck. Naala, Kora, Madi, and Eni stepped back, shielding their heads in anticipation of an air attack, but no more darts followed. Okeke pulled Naala forcefully towards the door where the two guards lay slumped. Eni pushed Okeke’s hand away, and stood between the two of them protectively.
‘We don’t have time,’ Okeke hissed at Eni. ‘We need to be quick—they will wake in the next fifteen minutes and alert the army, and the palace will shut down.’
‘Shut down? How will we leave?’ Madi asked, his eyes glued cautiously to the sleeping guards.
‘It doesn’t matter—we have a fall guy in place, the whole thing will be resolved in the next hour but you must go,’ Okeke said.
‘Okay, but you keep your hands off her,’ Eni warned before Naala shoved him out of the way.
‘Let’s just go,’ she said hurriedly, as she stepped over the guards and pushed the door open.
The room was darker than she had expected, and she blinked before she found her bearings.
‘Where is it?’ Kora whispered behind her. Naala turned her head to her left; Bayo’s instructions sung in the back of her head, but she didn’t need them.
‘There,’ Naala murmured, as she walked towards the artefact that tugged at her the most.
‘Yes, yes, that’s it! Now take it so that we can go,’ Okeke hissed from the door, as Naala bumped into a wooden low bench on the ground, and cursed in pain.
‘Hurry up,’ Okeke said, as a fresh wave of anger coursed through Naala. She didn’t answer; instead, she grabbed the crystal and suddenly her anger dissipated. In its place she felt a rush of intense power.