Ego was already close to her compound when she noticed the smoke.
At first, she thought it was coming from one of the neighbouring compounds. Thick, dark clouds were rising into the heavens, twisting above the treetops like a great serpent. But the closer she got, the more unmistakable the source became.
Her smile disappeared.
The smoke was rising from her late husband's compound.
Fear seized her.
She lowered the mortar from her head and placed it on the ground. Her eyes remained fixed on the towering smoke as her mind raced through every possibility.
Could it be her hut?
Could it be the hut she had shared with Nnanna?
Could she really have returned from the darkness only to lose the last thing she had left of him?
She could not risk carrying the mysterious bird into the village until she knew what had happened.
Ego quickly tore a long strip from a nearby plantain leaf stalk and used it to bind the bird's legs. She placed the bird back inside the mortar and carefully turned the mortar upside down, trapping it beneath the wooden vessel.
She then moved behind a large gmelina tree.
The tree was sacred to the people of Umudibia. It was believed to be the oldest tree in the village and was regarded as a temporary dwelling place for the spirits of their ancestors whenever they returned to the land of the living. Whenever an ancestor came home, the spirit was believed to lodge within the great tree before returning to the spirit world.
It was, in a manner of speaking, the ancestors' house whenever they came to town.
Ego believed the bird would be safe there.
No sane person would dare steal anything from beneath that tree.
Nevertheless, she concealed the mortar behind some thick vegetation before turning toward the smoke.
She ran.
Her injured leg protested with every step, but fear gave her strength.
"Please, let it not be my hut," she prayed silently. "Please, my Chi, let it be anything but my hut."
But when she finally saw the flames, there was no longer any doubt.
Her home was burning.
"Ọkụ! Ulọ! Ulọ dị m! Umudibia! Come and help me! My house is on fire!"
Her voice broke as she ran from one compound to another, calling for help.
Within moments, people began pouring out of their homes.
Young men grabbed clay pots and rushed toward the fire. Women fetched water from the stream. Others carried bamboo poles and used them to beat down the flames before they could spread into the surrounding vegetation.
The dry season had made the situation even more dangerous.
A single spark could turn the entire neighbourhood into an inferno.
By the time Ego entered her compound, Nnadozie and several young men were already there.
They were fighting desperately to contain the fire.
The flames had consumed almost everything.
The roof had collapsed.
The walls were blackened by soot, cracked in several places and beginning to crumble. What had once been Ego's home now looked like the remains of something that had been attacked by an angry spirit.
She stood frozen.
Her eyes moved slowly across the ruins.
The bamboo bed.
The clay pots.
The cooking utensils.
Her husband's belongings.
The little things that had survived Nnanna's death and remained as reminders that he had once lived there.
All gone.
A final bucket of water was thrown onto the smouldering remains.
The flames finally died.
But the fire had already won.
The villagers turned their attention to the surrounding vegetation, beating down smaller flames and extinguishing embers before they could spread into the dry garden behind the compound.
Ego lowered herself onto the cold earth.
Then she began to cry.
Not the quiet tears of a woman trying to remain strong.
She wailed.
She cried until her voice became hoarse.
She pulled at her wrapper and beat her chest as the full weight of her loss descended upon her.
Nnadozie, who had been directing the young men, noticed her and walked over.
"Ego."
She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes.
"Nnayi..."
He sat beside her.
"Do not cry like this. You are alive. That is what matters."
"Everything is gone," she sobbed. "Everything, Nnadozie. Nnanna's things... our home... everything."
Nnadozie looked back at the smouldering hut.
"I have never seen fire behave like that before," he said. "I was among the first people here. It spread too quickly. There was barely enough time to do anything."
He shook his head.
"This was not an ordinary fire."
Ego looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. But it was as if something wanted this hut destroyed."
His words sent a chill through her.
Nnadozie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Do not worry. Whatever has happened, we will rebuild."
He paused before continuing.
"You can stay with us until then. There is enough room in my compound. Chielo and the children will make space for you."
Ego looked at him but said nothing.
"Come home with us," he added. "You have suffered enough."
He then returned to the young men who were still working around the compound.
Ego remained on the ground.
She watched him walk away.
His words should have comforted her.
Instead, they made her feel even smaller.
She had once been a wife.
She had once had a home.
She had once had a husband who loved her.
Now she was a widow without a child, without a home and without even the little independence she had fought so hard to preserve.
She was once again dependent on another person.
Her tears returned.
And then she remembered the bird.
Her heart sank.
The old woman's words came rushing back.
You have been destined for greater things.
You will rise from poverty.
This opportunity will change your life.
Tap into the force of good.
Ego closed her eyes.
"What have I done?"
The answer seemed obvious.
The bird had brought destruction.
She had returned from the forest carrying it, and the moment she came near her home, her hut had burned down.
Perhaps the old woman had deceived her after all.
Perhaps the bird was never a gift from Anyawu.
Perhaps it belonged to Abali.
Perhaps the entire prophecy had been a trap.
Ego shook her head violently.
"No."
She would not make the same mistake twice.
She had trusted the old woman once and nearly died.
Then she had trusted her again in a dream and ventured into the darkness.
And now look at what had happened.
She had risked her life for a bird and returned to find her home reduced to ashes.
What more evidence did she need?
She would not bring that creature anywhere near her again.
She would leave it beneath the sacred gmelina tree.
If it died there, so be it.
Let the gods decide what became of it.
She would rather lose the bird than lose another home.
Ego wiped her face with the edge of her wrapper and looked toward the blackened remains of her hut.
She had no home to return to.
She could not go to her father's house either.
Her mother was dead.
She had died after a brief illness, and Ego had never forgiven her father for what she believed had contributed to her death. Since then, she had kept her distance from him.
There was nowhere else.
Nnadozie was her only option.
She hated the thought of becoming dependent on him, but she had little choice.
Perhaps, after everything she had endured, accepting his help was not a weakness.
Perhaps it was simply what she needed to survive.
She slowly stood.
Her eyes were still wet.
She looked once more at the ruins of the home she had shared with Nnanna.
"Obim," she whispered, "look what has happened to our home."
The wind moved gently through the trees.
For a moment, she imagined she heard his voice.
But there was nothing.
Only the crackling of dying embers.
Ego turned away.
She had lost her home.
She had lost her independence.
And somewhere behind the sacred gmelina tree, hidden beneath an overturned mortar, was the mysterious bird she had risked everything to obtain.
She had decided to abandon it.
But Ego did not know that the bird had not brought the fire to her home.
Someone—or something—had.
And whoever had done it was not finished with her yet.