It was cold. The winds seems to show no mercy at all. They are blindly obeying the words of the god's reminding Bami of his loneliness. The trees in sympathy cry. Their leaves singing on a note high and sonorous enough to remind him of how lonely he was. The night wasn't young. The moon lit the sky as bright as it could casting down rays of sad shines, the palm trees tried their best in covering him from the guilty rays. Maybe the moon was just doing what it has been tasked to do by Orunmilla and the trees are just been swayed and sings no song to him. He tries to think of why he is different all alone single and yet no fiancée. His family he never knew and not much an impact on him.
A ladies guy, he scoffs. Everyone round his age is married. He the most eligible bachelor yet still single. He is not pained neither is he bothered about that fact it is just that he feels lonely. He really has tried but not a thousand women can make him satisfied. He looks at his lamp (atupa) the light is still bright, how long has he been sitting outside an hour or just minutes. Whichever it might be, it felt like centuries and he feared if he moved his head just a little bit, his ancestors would gladly welcome him home but thank the gods it did not. He looks over the lamp and sees his basket. He picks it up and put it under his armpit with the rest of his arm within it holding the edge. His lamp in his left arm he headed for Oja ale (night market).
The light from the lamp illumined the path way as Bami moved as if he needed no light but held the lamp as a decorative piece and sign that showed he is still a normal human being. He looks up and sees the moon shine even brighter then he looks back as if to see how far away from home he is and not to check if anyone was behind him. He stares a while then he continues his journey.
Why do I feel alone he began to ask himself. I am not just known but well known by all even to the point that I know not half of all that knows me and people often visit me or do they not.
Was it not just last week mama Boley came to meet me she did ask about my wellbeing and all yet it felt like no one came at all could it be because at the end of the day she narrated to me an epistle of what her family is going through leaving me to console her with four tubers of yam, six measurement of rice and a bag of chiles (money). Now that I remember that, I wonder if I can count anybody who has ever asked me if there was any scrap of my epistle or anyone who had listened to a page of my scrolls. Nevertheless, I moved on with smiles and laughter all around.
I made the turn at the mango tree that stood erect like the tower of Babylon that was intended to reach the sky, the tree seems to be asking the gods to let it accomplish the mission of the Babylonians. Its branches spreads wide as if to touch the end of the sky. The tree itself, is as old as Ere town. A spot that served as the town square and gossip zone as well as a meeting point for overs to swear their love to each other.
Expecting the usual bubble at the foot of the tree, it was quiet. It could be because it is late at night or the tremendous cold due to the season. Moving forward, I also expected to hear the traders calling in advertisement of their goods, yet it was quiet. I wasn't scared neither was I afraid but I was worried and felt stupid that maybe the town crier ,had announced that there would be no market this night and I while busy in my thought had not heard his cry or something is actually up. I sped up my pace and headed towards the market. On arrival, it was quiet. Although, the stalls were lit with lamps, there was no sound. The wares of nearly each store was scattered and it looked like a riot had just taken place. I moved further calling the names of my customers but none responded. The floor was wet and I knew I had been outside so I couldn't have missed the rain except the gods has decided to keep me away from the blessing of rain. so I looked up at the sky maybe I could at least see the rain but all I saw was the moon staring back at me. I bent to see what it was because I knew I have not offended the gods in any way that could warrant such punishment asides my wild fantasies which I believe even the gods permit.
Raising my hands, from the ground putting it closer to my lamp it was blood. My instinct told me to run but I felt a cold sharp pain on my neck and a liquid I know is blood running down my chest. I froze.
Suddenly, I was surrounded and now I know I must be the last of us. The pain in my neck increased and I thought it wise to drop all that was with me.
"Take me as a slave I can do anything" I begged
"Of what need are you to me. When did we ever keep a slave" boomed a voice behind me
"I can be hardworking and I will complain not as long as I am alive. I will be a slave voluntarily" I replied gathering all courage and strength. The sword was pressed closer to my neck and I was sure my blood was what trickled down my chest
"Strip him" said a voice from behind the warriors.
Immediately the sword was withdrawn and two of the warriors from my left grabbed me on both hands and pulled me up on my feet. A third came and stripped me down leaving my smooth chocolate skin bare and my smooth and never known hardship skin obvious. The men laughed and pointed fingers at me. I did not feel bad neither was I ashamed because I was proud of my body and it shape. Slim tender I was.
A man cried putting out a cry of rage and anger and that determined to die when he could have ran away far from the blades of the warriors yet he charged foolishly. A true man worthy to be called a man. In his cry he had called me a fool, a woman and I will be nothing but a woman. I wonder if it is the words of the man that pained me or the manner in which the blade had sliced half his head away from the rest of his body letting his blood flow freely. It was gruesome to watch.
"Even if I will still be killed, can I please be allowed an answer" I asked
"Sure" said the warrior who I had not seen. The one I think was the leader.
"Why are you attacking us?" I asked
"That is for your king to tell you" he replied
"Is his highness still alive?" I said fearing what I might hear
"Dead on his throne" he said with a grin in his voice
"'he was my friend you know"
"Yea I know you are the only chief who was not aware of the whole matter. They will not let you know so I won't and now you die. Then ask them in hell"
Bami looked around his eyes counting how many they were. Twelve he counted. They wore a mask covering the upper part of their face the clothes they wore was a blue and white tie and die. Twelve men. I can handle them to my last breathe but to die easily like a lamb offered as offering, that I refuse.
A slave I am here, a free one who sat in the seat of chiefs a warrior. Now I wonder what business or offence could the king have done that I wasn't allowed to know `leading to the massacre of the entire town. Now that he has no king he cannot die till he finds a new king that can curtail him lest he becomes loose. A loose demon like he is becoming this very moment.
His hair grew long enough to reach his shoulder. The wind around him became fierce and he saw the warriors chanting probably spells of protection and enhancement but he heard them not. They chanted quickly straining their voice maybe to overshadow the sound of the storm that I brewed around us. After what seemed like a lifelong battle for the warriors, I finally got relieved releasing all my powers, the storm calmed. The warriors fell down like a palm leave. They fell lifelessly. I shrugged, looked round as if to see if anyone was still standing. The lights from the lamps at each stall burned lower now. I looked up and the moon still shone staring me in the face.
My mind flashed back to when I was but a child and knew nothing but run. Why I ran I knew not or I just cannot remember why. That day was just like this with the moon bright and full and a scenario almost like this except I was on the run, I knew they were coming, and I killed not knowing how I did. Like now all I remember is that I was angry and just felt like doing things and they happened.
I stared at the floor looked about the dead men and I began to weep. Not for those men but for the fact that the man who took me as a son and a man who I had respected not as a father but a being I respected and loved. I tried to take him as a father but no matter how hard I tried it was so obvious that we were different constituting to the already known fact that I was lonely.