CHETA
When I was a child, there was a very popular prophecy the Great Priestess of the village used to tell us. I remember clearly how we used to sit under the great Iroko tree close to the only shrine in my small village, listening to the strange woman as she danced and told tales and prophecies, while giving offerings to the Great Goddess. The details of the stories had been washed away by time and the burden of duty, but there was a part of the prophecy that stuck with me like a sear, branded into the roots of my heart, "the sun will dance, the winds will dance, even the stars would dance, but when the storm dances over the desert, it does not come to bless, it comes to bury."
Those words would stick with me for life, like a grinding stone at the back of my ears, a constant reminder of the horrors to come. Those words would groom me into paranoia and constant fear because, unlike all around me who lived in the comfort of oblivion, I became aware…too aware. I feared the future that would come, where blood and bones would become the foundations of our homes, where love would become a story, and laughter, a distant tale.
For moon after moon, the nightmares came, hunting me down like a masquerade who lost his chi. The nightmares took over my life, becoming a part of who I was and whom I was known to be. My real name, forgotten and replaced. "CHETAUJO", they called me, meaning to 'remember fear'.
²
"Mother… Mother…" The young, weak boy whispered in fear, tears streaming down his eyes. "They will soon be here! They would arrive with their blood-shot eyes and their hearts beating for vengeance. Mother keep wake because they would be led by a hot and dangerous flame of fire. They will soon be here."
The land of Druala
"IJE PUSH…PLEASE PUSH…I BEG YOU…PUSH CHILD, PUSH!"
The thunder tore through the sky, like the whip of a pained commander against the back of his horse. The night was darker than it had ever been. The sky had turned to the color of bruised charcoal as the wind howled painfully, ramming through the trees like a restless mother in search of her dead child. The air was thick with the feel that something ancient was watching and waiting. This storm was not ordinary. It was just like the ones the elders used to speak about. The ones that were omens of evil to come. Children hurdled tightly against the breasts of their mothers and the mothers whispered prayers to the great goddess for protection. Men stood fiercely, trying to mask the fear that they felt, legs trembling and hearts shaking.
It was in this storm that the woman's battle started-the battle to bring life into this world, and she was losing a great deal. In this great storm, the lives of both mother and child hung in the balance, and all one could do was pray.
:
In this timeline, stories give birth to realities. Stories of the past, the present and the future. Tales passed down from generations of mothers to children, seasoned by the old touch of time.
The story goes that many moons ago, when the earth was still young and virgin, untouched by the evils of wicked men, the wolf gods came down to the Earth to seek unity with men with hopes of building a stronger shared future. They searched for ages, but the mortals turned their backs on them in fear of the unknown. The only land who accepted them was Druala, the land of the First Wolves. The small town stood at the edge of the earth, marking the boundary between the land of the dead and the living, the birthplace of life as it was known. It was from Druala that the wolf gods united with man and the werewolves were created.
But that story was lost. The substance of it had been watered down by the rough hands of time. After moons of retelling, the story had become nothing more than a bedtime story, an unimaginable history, a mythical tale. The tale of how humans became one with wolves, lost to the winds. Druala, the mythical land at the edge of the earth which once received the mighty wolf gods, went back to its small and irrelevant status, not knowing the power they once held as a people.
:
The laboring woman lay at the junction between life and death, screaming at the inconsolable pain of bringing life into this world. Little did she know that she was about to give birth to a child that would change the course of life as it was known. However, when in pain, belief and hope are all lost and all that remains is suffering.
Ije felt suffering.
As she screamed in the pains of childbirth, the drums of thunder roared in anger, lightening cracked the sky open like a split calabash, the wolves howled to the moon, and the water continued pouring in great torrents. Chaos…chaos…endless chaos!
:
"Mama…what is a prophecy?" Ije had always been a curious child. At just 10 moons old, she had already developed the mind of an adult and spent most of her days with her aunties and grandmothers, learning from them and listening to as many stories as she could possibly be told. This inquisitiveness worried her mother, but there was little she could do to stop her from always wanting to know more.
Her mother turned slowly from the flames she was fanning, and gave a faint but fond smile. "Ijeeeee…you are always on the hunt for new information. Why did you not ask Mama Oge at the market?"
"I did…she told me to ask you. She said my grandmother was a prophetess and told me that you used to be a prophetess too. Why did you stop prophesying, mother…is it something bad?" Her mother's eyes darkened immediately the words left her mouth, a distant, unreadable expression that lay between fear and anger masked her face. Ije could not understand why, but she was worried.
"Are…are you ok mama? You…you look very…very…" "Today should be the last day I will hear of you spending time with Mama Oge. Do you hear me? Do not bring up this foolish question with me again…or anyone else for that matter!!" Her grip on her daughter's shoulders was beginning to hurt, causing tears to build up in young Ije who nodded slowly, wondering in tears why her mother was so upset about the seemingly innocent question.
It hurt the woman to see her daughter in tears about something as innocent as that, but she could not let her know what the prophecies were, the visions she saw and the recurring prophecies she received when she was much younger. They were too It was why she decided to leave behind the life of prophecies and visions.
Her beloved Ije was going to die in childbirth, slowly and painfully. There was no reality in which she could be saved!
The woman hoped that not knowing about the visions would keep her daughter safe under the blissful wings of ignorance, but the gods had other plans. Two moons later, she died of a mysterious illness, leaving her daughter alone and unaware of the prophecies surrounding her life. But as our fathers used to say, "destiny is just like the boomerang, no matter how far you throw, it will still find its way back to you." The poor child was doomed from the start, a curse of death lingering around her.
:
The first time the old woman visited Ije was at her mating ceremony. She came, clad in black attire, as though she was in mourning. She sat outside the ceremony on the bare ground, pouring red dust all over her body and singing funeral songs.
Nwayi Ocha was a woman rumored to be as old as time itself and a direct descendant of the moon goddess. She was an entity who bore a strong presence in Druala, silently giving prophecies and signs that could change its fate. But she was always very quiet, moving only at night, and speaking only to the prophetesses of the land. Only a few could boast about having heard her voice or even seen her face because, for most, she was a living story. She was something close yet distant and incomprehensible. It was said that a prophecy given by the woman was backed up personally by the Great Goddess. However, after Ije's mother died, Nwanyi Ocha mysteriously disappeared, only to reveal herself at the ceremony for the first time in many moons.
So many mamas and aunties tried to get close to her to understand why she was so distressed, all hoping for the best, as it was a sign of a great bad omen for something of such to be happening at one's mating ceremony.
"Oh my sweet child…who have you wronged so much to have this mighty curse upon your head? The curse is so great, but so is the blessing. But why can the goddess not just give a blessing without the weight of a curse?" Her voice was laced with the pain of time and great wisdom, but the words she spoke were no ordinary words.
Ije held tightly to her mate and husband, Ahaa, tears already threatening to spill out of her eyes. She had never felt that much fear in her life. The words were spoken with so much authority, she could almost see the future happening right before her eyes. The entire square was shaken to deadly silence, even the winds had ceased to blow.
"Your union will be cursed with a blessing…." She cried once more. "Why is the great goddess so cruel to those she calls her children….can she not give without taking? Dikammiriozuzudiegwu...as the storm is terrible...omumunwagaabu...the birth of the child shall be!"
The prophecies that Ije's mother had so desperately tried to protect her daughter from, had finally been made, and the Earth had heard them loud and clear, sealing them for fulfillment. The weather suddenly darkened as though agreeing with the words that were spoken. There was so much fear hovering in the air.
:
'As the storm is terrible, so shall the birth of the child be…as the storm is terrible, so shall the birth of the child be.'
Ije could only hear those words play in her mind, over and over again as she pushed hard during labor. The voice of the midwife was drowned out in the background, overshadowed only by Nwanyi Ocha's prophecies. She was losing the battle and she knew it. She could feel her life slipping away, little by little, but all she could think about was how short her life had been. She thought about how much she had not accomplished. She thought of her unborn child, who may come into this world and live without a mother. But most of all, she thought of Ahaa, her husband…her Ahaa, who had been kicked out of the birthing hut for almost fighting with one of the midwives, blaming her for causing his wife pain. He had to be dragged out physically by a few of his friends who braved the storm to be with him as he waited for his wife and child. He had been kneeling outside the hut for almost twenty hours. His knees were numb with pain and the harsh cold traveled through his bones, sending shivers down his spine. The rains seemed to drown out behind him as all he could think of was his wife's sufferings. He had cried, prayed and begged the goddess to take his life instead, till his throat bled from his constant screaming. But the goddess had turned deaf ears to his prayers.
But why? The goddess was just and merciful to her subjects…at least that was what the mothers and priestesses used to say. So why would this great and merciful deity not show compassion?
"Aah…oh my chi… I cannot do this… I cannot go on…please…please let me rest…please let me rest!" "No child…no…no…" "Please let me rest…please." "No… No… No...PUSH PLEASE…OH CHIM…"
The woman was tired and giving up slowly. She was tired of fighting. She had lost a lot of blood, her body ached as though a thousand needles were being pierced through her skin. "Please…please just let me go…please." "Shut up that mouth! Never give up child! I helped your mother birth you into this world and your mother did not die in my hands. You will not die in my hands! JisiIke…be strong. You will bring forth that child...he will live!"
Just at that moment, the goddess decided to show a little mercy and with a loud cry, after hours of pain and fear, the child was born. As her child finally tore through, Ije felt fear. All she could think about was the certainty that she had died. But then, the hut erupted with the screams of a newborn and that of joy and thanks to the goddess, and she was sure she had heard it with her ears. "I am alive...I am alive...I bore my child...my child is alive!"The thunders roared with excitement and the hut was almost torn down with excitement and celebration.
"It is a girl!"
Tears began to flow down Ije's eyes. She had brought forth a child into this world. It was her own child…her very own daughter. She reached out to hold her, hands shaky and her body thorn with pain, but all she cared about was her daughter. She was a very small child, barely half the size of a normal newborn. Her body had strange markings and hints of different skin shades. She was truly a strange child, very different from any child that they had ever seen. However, all of this did not matter any longer. The child had been born and she was still alive. Maybe the prophecy was false all along…maybe just maybe, the goddess had decided to have some mercy.
'Congratulations Ije. Congratulations my daughter. You have done so well, your mother would be so proud of you. Oh! Thank the goddess for her mercies."
The child was placed into her mother's trembling hands. Ije held her daughter tightly, not minding the pains she still felt, and how much blood she had lost. It was a beautiful moment to witness as both of them, mother and child, crying in each other's arms, the pains and suffering replaced by the joy of childbirth.
She had lived! Her heart pounded with excitement. She had lived and passed the prophecy! She would be alive for her daughter and her husband. She had lived! She managed to force out a laugh. It was a surreal feeling to be alive because she had seen her life slowly drift away. She had died a hundred times over and again, but with a twist of fate, she survived.
The women, seemingly more excited, burst out in laughter as they heard the voice of Ahaa, her mate, screaming words of praise to the goddess after hearing the news.
Immediately, the doors of the birthing hut were all but blown out of their hinges as Ahaa stormed in. At first, he scanned his wife from head to toe, smiling at her, amazed at how powerful she could be to brave twenty-five hours of pain and persevere till the end, bringing forth a child. Slowly, he embraced his wife and their child. Tears poured down his eyes in greater torrents than the rains had fallen.
"Oh Ije…Ije…oh my wife. I thought I had lost you. Ije…I…I…"
"I am here, am I not? I…I am here, my love. I am here with you. Who would I leave you with…who could help you bear the woes of this wicked world…who could help you raise our child…who?" Tears became the new storm. Mother, father and child, all sobbing together.
"Ahaa…you have to go outside now so we can present your child to you."
The midwife requested softly. It was tradition to have the head midwife present a child to their father after birth as a symbol of handing over the responsibility. As she had assisted in the birth of the child, it was now his turn to assist in the life of the child. Everyone knew about this tradition but Ahaa could not let go. He shook his head stubbornly.
"Have you not kept my wife away from me long enough…why should you have to keep her away for any longer?"
"Ahaa… Ahaa…" Ije whispered softly. "I will be fine, my love. Just let Mama Ebi do her job… I will be fine."
Celebrations began to spring forth from all over. The storms had calmed down almost immediately and the sun peaked out from behind the clouds as the morning broke. Ahaa's friends went door to door to break the news of the birth, ringing bells and beating drums. Many locals had come out of their homes to celebrate with the new parents and soon, a small crowd had gathered in front of the hut, waiting for the midwife to present the child to her father. 'The Child of the Storm' they called her, all aching to see her face and eager to know the fate of the child whose birth had caused a storm, and had almost taken the life of her mother.
But they did not need to wait for so long. The storm of the night was only the beginning of the greater storms to come.
"Praise be to the goddess!" They kept whispering. But why give thanks to someone who could watch her subjects wither in pain but withhold her hand of help?
Ahaa emerged slowly and reluctantly out of the birthing hut, and the crowd erupted with cheers. His friends gathered around him and doused a full keg of palm oil on his head and rubbed it generously all over his body. He was now a father.
A small band of musicians had already begun playing and dancing. The atmosphere was electrified with joy and smiles.
Soon, the child was cleaned, and the midwives emerged to present her to her father. More cheers erupted and the tempo of the music increased.
"It is a girl…a beautiful girl. All her parts are complete, she breathes through her nose and can locate the nipples of her mother." There was a roar of laughter amongst the crowd. Ahaa was entranced, it all felt like a dream to him. The words of the midwife seemed to be lost to him as he stood completely still, tears streaming down his eyes.
"Ahaa, here is your child, the product of your pleasure and the suffering of your wife. Ije has suffered for hours to birth your child, so now, it is your turn to suffer and care for this child. As your wife was willing to give her life for this child through the torture of childbirth, so you also…be ready to lay down your life for her."
"There is no greater joy…"
His speech was cut short. Commotion had ensued. Nwanyi Ocha had arrived, clad in funeral clothes and head shaved and doused in ashes.
"This wicked child has finally been born!" Her voice was broken. It was clear to all that she had been crying as her eyes were sunken and darkness clouded her face. Her whole demeanor spoke of doom in loud volumes. Unimaginable doom.
"Oh Druala, the great Land of the First Wolves. Who would have known that an ordinary birth would bring about your downfall? The wicked child has finally been born. I hoped her mother's life would be taken for the land to be spared, but she was so strong that she survived. I hoped that the storms would wipe the land clean of all her iniquities, but the birth came and surpassed the storm. Oh Druala, I prayed ceaselessly to the great goddess for her mercies upon you but she must have turned her back. Now, you will have to suffer. There is no hope for you anymore. The wicked child has finally been born."
Just as the words left her lips, darkness immediately took cover. Thunder, fear, then silence.
A loud shrill cry pierced through the silence, bringing down a whirlwind, sending dust and mud scattering all over the compound. The shrill cry deafened everyone and the winds were blinding. Almost immediately, the strange old woman vanished into thin air, leaving behind a trail of wind and dust. She was gone, as though she never existed.
:
Immediately, the trouble started. Balls of fire began to rain down from the sky. Time seemed to slow down, dragging everything with it. Trouble had begun, chaos had ensued. The downfall of Druala was just around the corner!