chapter 2

The news of Echi’s short display of insanity spread through the village, and Olanna was the first to admit it after a bitter argument with a neighbour that ended with her calling him a fool. Neighbours came in groups, so did relatives. One after the other, they asked about his mental state, they asked whether he was chasing a naked spirit with palm fronds or he had been visited by a lover who he had broken her heart with his treachery before his marriage. Olanna declared all of them false. She called them lies that were formed by her husband’s enemies to desecrate the name he had made for himself in the village. What annoyed her the most was the way the people she called his friends twisted words to fit their hate for her husband. A hate she had just discovered now. She also had her share of the hate too. There were rumours flying everywhere in clusters. Rumours that his short-lived madness was caused by her witchcraft, and this false rumor transpired among those she called her friends. The few who chose not to believe any of the things they heard about the previous night, condemned Echi for disgracing his manhood.

A neighbour passing by the hut at night, was the first to spot Echi. She decided to eavesdrop when she heard shouts coming from inside his hut. What her eyes saw next was unbelievable. An insane man curled up in one corner, repeating the same words over and over again. She waited for morning to come before she escalated hard-earned information to a village with one of the best gossipers. This neighbour had been involved in an earlier quarrel with Echi over her missing hen, which she claimed was with Olanna, but Echi refused to believe her while saying his wife was not known for theft.

“I suspected he was mad before yesterday’s event,” the neighbour said.

“I am not surprised at all. It flows in the blood of the family,” her companion replied.

Isiewu sent for his son to bring him some herbs. He was planning on using the herbs to solve a young woman’s case of infertility. She had come earlier in the morning to complain about her husband’s decision to marry a second wife if the last effort he put inside her did not yield anything. Isiewu, as usual, was lively and full of grace as he studied the woman’s curvy body. It was evident to him that the woman was not from Umuolu. She had tribal marks on her shoulders Marks drawn in a strange way to depict a python. A dying python. He had promised her before she left that her solution would be ready before evening. It was one of those assurances he made with a huge smile on his face before saying that all would be well.

“Why are you still standing there?” asked Isiewu.

“I am tired. I can’t do any work again,” said Nweke.

“Are you mad? Are you sure you are not mad? Are you sure you have not been mad before?”

Nweke kept quiet. He was Isiewu's first son. The one that should have been a joy to the old chief priest of Umuolu, but he was not. He was a very dull lad with bulgy eyes that seemed to always fall and fit in his eyes at the same time.

“I blame that your stupid mother that brought shame on me by sleeping with a he-goat of a man in that stupid he-goat house of his.” Isiewu anger was fierce.

“Father, she is dead. Let her soul rest in peace.”

“Will you shut up your mouth. What do you know about rest in peace? Have you ever been dead before?” 

The peace Isiewu felt, knowing full well that everyone had accepted what happened to Echi was an unimaginable false desecration that could not happen to men of Echi’s status, was divine. He felt further relief knowing he was not a part of the rumour that had circulated around the village. Although he did not want anyone to pry into Echi’s case, he did not show it.

He sat quietly, chewing a soft chewing stick while spitting at intervals as he thought of the previous night’s event. The question that bothered him the most was how the neighbour was capable of spreading such information without consulting him first. Two centuries ago, the neighbour would have been cut into pieces if it turns out the news was false. That was why men and women consulted with the chief priests before spilling such information, but things were different now. It couldn’t be heard that Umuolu killed a woman for spreading a lie. How would other villages think? Would they say to one another that there was a division in the land? Would they say let us strike now while the snake takes a tour? He knew deep down inside his diviner’s soul that Echi’s madness was not a rumour; it was real. Real madness that only comes by the scent of a maiden ancestral spirit with a bitter death.

He thought of what his son said. He knew he was spending too much time on Echi’s case, but he had no choice other than to continue because he was already too deep to go back. Too far away to pull out. And what was better than proving his potency as the most revered diviner in the whole of Umuolu, and the best diviner that existed in the whole village? It was this kind of job that gave him his name. It was this kind of job that brought him to where he was now. It was this kind of job that demanded huge sacrifices and confirmed his position as the spokesman of the gods.

“I am Isiewu. The great and only living breath of the gods. I am the son of Isiogwu that can present an ancestral masked spirit with the heart of his son. I fear no mortal. I am the only one who can put the grasshopper in its place when it is let out from its bag. I am the living mockery of the gods,” Isiewu soliloquized and made short laughter, which was not audible for the few guests in Echi’s hut to hear.

Echi woke up in the middle of a busy afternoon in his compound, looking like a sacrificial goat. He demanded a seat, and it was given to him immediately. Visitors, whose doubts were cleared after they had seen Echi behave like a normal man, started leaving slowly in small groups when they could not see any sign of insanity that his neighbour claimed he had. The men, especially the older ones, remained for a while, still searching him closely to see if they could notice a change of attitude or an awkward display that was not normal. They didn’t see it. They admitted that his neighbour was lying just like the rest of the visitors that had left did when he greeted them in the traditional manner, and they responded, but unlike the rest of them, they made sure they laid individual curses on her before bidding him goodbye.

In the night, after Echi proved beyond any doubt, to be calm, his mother visited him. It was one of those unusual visits that would make him hit his head hard with his palm while thinking of what he would say. But this night, he had no idea of what he would say to a woman who had travelled from a very far distance to talk about the barrenness of a woman she had refused to love. This was one of those few nights he wished he could just vanish into the earth, but he knew it would not happen. This stubborn, persistent red earth was not a friend of his. It stared back at him as he stared at it, waiting for a reply that he knew would not involve him. It would not take him into its belly. 

He turned his face away from his mother as he watched her enter and sit down. Everywhere was empty now except for him, his mother and his wife. They all sat in different parts of the room with hands clutched to something inanimate. Something lifeless with no sense of being. Each lost in their thoughts. Their different worlds of confusion.

“Has death decided to pay me a friendly visit?” Echi asked his mother. He was facing her now. Her eyes met his, but he threw his face away. “Did I forget to pay the debt I owe death, or has it come to seek an extra payment in advance? It seems that the spirits of the dead is knocking at my door with serious business.”

“Why are you talking in this manner? Can’t I come to see if my son and his family is doing well?”

“Mother! It is now a common thing that every time you come, you have a new bad tale to tell. What do you want to tell me today? That I am infertile? Or that my barren hen has chosen to hatch egg inside her womb? I don’t have time for all of this your tale. Just leave my house,” Echi said quietly. His eyelids twitched as if it wanted to betray him by persuading his eyes to rain down comforting tears to match the ones that were slowly forming in Abali’s eyes. “Mother, just leave me and my wife alone.”

“Forgive me, my son. Forgive me for all my bad attitude towards you.” Abali was crying now. She wiped her eyes with the help of her wrapper. She took a deep breath. “ The reason I came here is because of what I heard. I don’t want you to die. I don’t know what I would do if you ever die—”

“You mean, you don’t know what you would do if your son dies without giving you a grandchild. Is that what you came here to know?” Echi interrupted. He was trying hard to keep himself from getting angry.

“The main reason I came here is to ask for your forgiveness. I want you to forgive me. I have done a lot of bad things to you and your wife, and all she has done is to show me how much she loves me as a mother-in-law even though she was forcefully married to you.” She turned to Olanna. “My daughter, please forgive me for all the wrong that I have done to you. I know I have been a very bad woman, but am ready to change that if you give me a second chance.” Abali went on her knees. “Please forgive me, my child.”

“Mother, get up and sit down.” Olanna’s soft voice pierced the air. “I have forgiven you. Please sit down.”

Abali got up and sat down, folding her wrapper properly to prevent it from pulling off. She spread her legs wide and stared at Echi as if she was trying to create a space between her legs to show him that it was from there, he came out, and he should still respect the fact she was still his mother.

“I have forgiven you. If my dear wife can forgive a woman who called her barren several times, why can’t I forgive that woman too.”

“The gods will continue to bless you and your family,” Abali prayed.

“May it be so,” Echi replied firmly. He was already used to saying sharp, firm replies whenever people prayed for him or blessed him.

“May your barns never lack yams,” Abali prayed again.

“May it be so.”

After Abali drank the water that Olanna gave her, she thanked her and cleared her throat. She took two quick glances at Olanna.

As if they knew what she was about to ask, Echi said, “If you want to ask about whether she has conceived. I am sorry, but she is yet to conceive. She is still not pregnant.” Echi tried to cover all possible loopholes that he felt his mother would try to open.

“I came here because of your father. He wants your brother Akunna to come and live with you and Olanna.” 

“That is a really good idea. At least, I can now have an extra hand for farm work.” Echi smiled. It was a smile he needed at that moment. “I have nothing against father’s idea. My worry is you. It is easy for me to say that you never liked the idea of me relating with Adaku’s children. Remember the day that you nearly broke my head with a mortar because I helped Adaku’s daughter to carry her pot of water from the stream?”

“I do remember. I have done a lot of terrible things in the past, and I want to amend my ways. I don’t know what has gotten into me ever since I have been hearing rumours about you been mad, but whatever that has gotten into me, I believe it is for a good reason. I would be very pleased if you accept Akunna into your home.”

Isiewu came in at midnight when Echi and Olanna were already fast asleep. His eyes were wide like a night cat, and his lips were tightly pressed together as he studied the moon through the small window in Echi’s hut and smiled. It was the right time for the sacrifice.

“Which sacrifice?” Echi had asked when Isiewu told them that they should prepare themselves for an atonement sacrifice.

“We need to do an atonement sacrifice to the spirits hovering around you,” Isiewu replied.

“Can’t the sacrifice wait for tomorrow or the day after tomorrow? Must it be done this night?”

Echi and Olanna awakened after Isiewu entered their hut.

“There is a strange feeling I had that made me return back after I had left. The gods told me that your life will be in danger if we don’t do the sacrifice this night. We have to do this sacrifice right now,” Isiewu said.

Outside the hut, Isiewu grabbed a female hen. He scooped some sands from Echi’s backyard into an empty bag just before they dashed onto the lonely path that led to an abandoned evil forest. It was getting darker, and the moon that Isiewu had seen a while ago, was slowly withdrawing its light.

Olanna carried the palm oil lamp which she had bought from the market the previous day after a peaceful bargain with a short woman, whose accent was as strange as her hair. The lamp gave a poor glow and illuminated a small area of the path which they covered. The deeper they went, the fewer people they met on their way. They kept on walking until the lamp, which Olanna held in her hands, gave up with a slow hissing sound.

“What are we going to do now?” Olanna asked.

“Wait here,” Isiewu ordered. “I know someone around here who would loan us a lamp for the night.”

They waited for a while with little hesitation, and when they began to lose hope on the diviner, he suddenly appeared from nowhere with a bright glowing lamp in his hand.

“Let us proceed,” Isiewu said.

They continued walking but slowed their pace to reduce the noise coming from their feet. As they got closer to the evil forest, Isiewu gave the lamp to Olanna and switched the hen from his left hand to his right hand. He felt the pride of all diviners the pride of overcoming fear, which no mortal man possessed. He had learnt during his childhood that fear itself was the greatest thing a man could fear. 

“I see the spirits of the evil forest. We are getting closer,” Isiewu assured them. 

Once or twice, he could hear the whispers of Olanna and Echi in the darkness, but when he strained his ears to get ahold of the words they were saying, the wind would quickly steal away the message from his ears, grasping them in its palms like a stingy man protecting his assets.

“Stop!” Isiewu ordered as they reached the end of the road. 

He studied the tree beside them before dropping his goatskin bag and the hen. He turned around, looking for a soft spot to dig a hole. He nodded in contentment as he found one. He instructed Olanna to drop the lamp beside the spot he had found, before collecting his staff from Echi’s grip. Using the staff, he struck the soft spot. Three times he struck, and three times, it reverberated with a frightening noise.

“Let your husband come closer,” Isiewu ordered in a hoarse voice.

Echi drew closer and bent down. He watched as Isiewu struck the spot again with his staff and laughed in a ridiculous way that disgusted him.

“Olanna, pick the hen,” Isiewu instructed.

Olanna dropped the palm oil lamp close to the tree. She grabbed the lifeless hen and tightened the cord on its neck.

“Draw the shape of an evil spirit,” Isiewu ordered Echi.

While Echi was drawing the strangest form of an evil spirit that came into his bleak mind, Isiewu opened his goatskin bag and brought out the items he would use for the atonement sacrifice.

“Give me the lamp,” Isiewu said in a low voice. 

Olanna passed the glowing lamp to him. He cut one leaf from a loose branch and burnt its edge with the fire from the lamp. He brought out the sand he had gotten from Echi’s compound and dropped it close to his side.

“Give me the hen,” Isiewu ordered. 

Olanna released the hen from her grip and handed it over to Isiewu. Smiling, Isiewu brought out a sharp knife which he used to slit the throat of the hen. He lifted the hen towards the sky, hovered some parts of its body around the fire, then he stood up and faced the tree.

“Give me some sand?” Isiewu ordered again. 

Olanna passed the bag filled with the sands Isiewu had collected. He grabbed the bag and took a small portion, which he poured on the tree while muttering some prayers. He gave Olanna a handful to pour on Echi’s forehead. The hen was still in his right hand. He moved towards Echi, who was engrossed in drawing a perfect evil spirit and waved the hen around his head three times. Finally, he told Echi to stand up while he said prayers for his atonement.

“A man cannot go to the farm to harvest yams when he has not planted the yam tendrils by himself. Any man who beat the drum of trouble must be ready to dance to the tune of trouble. It has never been heard that a man who inherited a problem which he did not create cannot find a solution when he decides to willingly seek. Spirits of our ancestors, we have come at this hour of the night to seek atonement for a son who has been bonded by a curse that he did not create. I have brought him and his wife before your very eyes for a significant purpose. We have come to plead. We have come to beg the spirits chasing him. He cannot die without seeing his offsprings. I know that you want every son of Umuolu to enjoy the joy of fatherhood. Spirits of our ancestors, this is the hen. Let it represent him. Let the curse that follows him move from him to this hen. Let the evil spirits chasing him because of this curse, move to this hen.”

Isiewu nodded several times as he felt his own words.

“Give me the lamp,” Isiewu shouted.

Olanna brought the lamp, and Isiewu took it. He touched the head of the hen with the lamp before dropping it near the evil spirit that Echi had drawn on the ground. He lifted his voice and said some prayers. This time, his words were brief and straight forward. He ended his prayers by dropping the hen on the ground, very close to the lamp, and the evil spirit that Echi had drawn.

“Are we going to leave the lamp here?” Echi asked.

“I will collect it tomorrow and return it back to the owner. We are done with the sacrifice, which is something you should be happy about. The lamp will serve as a guard for the hen in order to prevent the evil spirits from hovering around it. It will not be too long when we will hear the cry of a baby,” Isiewu said with a wide smile. “Don’t forget to send my greetings to your half-brother. It will also not be too long before the cry of blood will be heard.” Isiewu laughed.