Come Bear Withness

In the distance, drums are being beaten, in rapid voice the drums sing. In the middle an old man sit in an odd fashion, his legs crossed between each other and by his side, dry woods which he puts into the heavy fire burning in front of him. “Come around children” he says to the children playing around his very large compound. “Come and let me tell you of a tale as old as I am” Slowly the children stop their play and run to listen. “Are you going to tell us a story about the tortoise again grandpapi” a young boy asks. “No tell us about the hare and his wife” another starts. “Calm down, calm down children” the old man says as he raises his hands to wave them down. When they finally settled down he continued his talk. “I will tell you a different story my little ones, it is a story my father told me and his father told him. I have told it to my son too for him to tell his children” “Grandfather start!” they all chorused “Patience, my children. In a way that is akin to the tale, a tale that start’s beautiful but went out of control. A tale ….” The man’s voice gradually disappears and the drums do too, while the stage darkens and a new light shines forth on a woman. She is in a forest. But not just any forest, this one belongs to the Ancestral spirit. “Great Sapient Elogho, this is the fifth year that I am without child, I have fasted, I have denied my husband entrance while expecting, I have hidden myself from people, I have eaten only white yam these past three months yet I have not taken in” in her lament she falls on the floor her hands placed on her head as hot tears begin to flow. Suddenly a voice speaks to her and she jolts up, she looks around not sure from where it came from. “Ewooma my child” She kneels instantly and clears every tear in her face. “Ewooma my child, why do you cry, why do you force my hand when I told you it’ll take many moons before you conceive?” “My fathers have mercy on me, my husband’s youngest wife Olou has given birth already, I have been patient but I am slowly dying inside, I feel as though I will die before I take in, Ancestral spirits hear my cry and save me” For a while there is silence. Like the silence that comes before a heavy thunder, but yet Ewooma does not stand, does not speak, does nothing apart from waiting. “My child go home, you are already with child, since you have pestered the spirits for one you will now house a spirit of one of us” She jumps up from her position. “If it mean that I will have a child I am ready, I am willing to do whatever to have a child” The voices start again, this time more thunderous “As you have said, it has been accepted, you will bear a child, a child whose strength is second to none, a child who’s destiny is to soar above the clouds, a child who’s body no spear nor axe nor blade can harm. But the day your child asks of his father he shall die” Ewooma was confused. Surely the spirits jest, after all isn’t she married to Nkem the Fisherman? What child won’t regard him as their father? “Great spirits, as long as I have a child I am fine with whatever happens” she replies. “Go then, go home, your child will come in four moons on the fourth market day before the fifth moon, his name shall be Ojadili. Go home now and bother us no longer Ewooma. Go home now and plant the seeds for which you will reap in due season” The voices stop.Ewooma cleans herself up, unties her wrapper and uses it to clean her face, she dusts herself one more time and heads back into Nkwo the village she calls home. After four moons, Ewooma took in, but the pregnancy was strange. At the third market day before the fourth she was already heavy, as heavy as a woman who had carried a baby for nine moons. The villagers regarded it with suspicion, but knowing she was barren all this years they concluded that it would be a still born. After all what child would be born after only four moons? On the appointed day, heavy screams were heard in Nkwo, as the mothers of the village went to aid Ewooma in her delivery. “Push!” One voice shouted. “Push Ewooma, the child is almost here” another voice coming from under her legs said. Soon a chorus of push came, and in a few hours Ewooma held a child in her arms, a male child, Nkem her husband was by her side, he dared not leave for work when his most dearest wife was in labor, and to see it was a male, only the spirits know how he kept himself without dancing. “What should his name be my love?” He said to her, it was custom for the mother to name the child, it brings blessings. “His name will be Ojadili, for his birth brought a great song to my heart” “Ojadili?” “Yes my husband, it is a name the gods have willed to me in my heart” “It is okay my love” he carefully carried the baby, blessed it in his native tongue and gave him back to his mother. He then left them in peace so that she, Ewooma could rest and Ojadili would feed.

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