whoop", "wooo, wooo, wooo" 'Ebube, can you hear the wailing
of the siren from afar?'
'Yes Odinaka', Ebube replied in a sulky tone, as they were
seated on mounds that were on a farmland, which was close
to a tiny pathway that steered into their compound that was
barricaded with rafters.
'Chai! So it's true that mama has finally died? Chineke! This
life is just a mysterious drama that everyone just has to play
his or her own minuscule script which was squeezed into
these black thin lines that are on the faces of our palms
called akaraka . I just wonder the secret behind death. The
plans that I have for her and her dreams just whisked away
into the air and soonest, her story and history will be
forgotten. What an unfair world. Why must people die?'
'My brother, I don't know oh! Ask God.' Ebube shook his head
and responded, as he was deeply in an agonising mood and
rain of tears flowed down from his eyes to the ground.
'Just imagine mama lying inside that wood called coffin and
decaying their few days later, in the belly of the mother earth
that can never get tired of eating dead bodies like a chunk of
meat. If truth is to be told, I really wonder why men were
created, since after this whole stress and drudgery, all will
just lie down helplessly in a box one day and the lowest
creatures ever, the akikas will feast on their bodies. I'm just
confused with this set up called life and the ordeal
surrounding it. I can't even figure out how papa will feel,
sitting down close to the dead body of his wife inside that
ambulance. You know papa too well that anything that has to
do with mama bothers him very much, let alone this unending
demarcation that nature and destiny have finally brought in
between them. I just pray that he will be strong enough to
get over this pain and learn how to live with them.'
'I pray so oh!' Ebube hushed quietly.
'Ebube! I can see the ambulance now, look, look, it's a white
one. Ah! My lovely mother is gone', Odinaka bawled, as the
white ambulance that conveyed the dead body of his mother
rolled in between their village bush pathway and clogged in
front of their small two rooms apartment, which his
father Nwokenife built with the last money he got as pay-off,
from the Oloko company where he worked as a carpenter, at
CMS, in Lagos State, during the 1990's. But he later resigned
due to strabismus.
Onaa, onaa n'udo, onaa ebe osiri bia na uwa…! The Alum
village women, who were already seated under a canopy that
was made from bamboo sticks and palm leaves chanted the
burial song gently, as they watched the coffin of their
member, Nwanyi Oma as it was been brought out from the
white ambulance by some Alum youths, who had converged
at Nwokenife's house very early in the morning to dig the
grave where her remains would sleep and rest for eternity.
Immediately, an outburst of cry ensued from all the angles
where the villagers, family and friends sat under their
respective bamboo canopies as her coffin was laid on two
wooden long bench which were kept parallel to one another
in the centre of the crowd.
'Father! Father!' Ebube who was fifteen years old yelled, as
he sighted his father, who was been held gently, as he
alighted from the ambulance and was led quietly into their
house by his two friends Mbanefo and Ejiofor. As the boy ran
closer to him, he tossed his hands round his father's thighs,
held it and wept bitterly.
'Father, so it's true?' Ebube whose heart had been gulfed by
sorrow enquired of his father, as his arm were still girdled on
his thighs, very tight.
'Ebube my son it's okay, God knows the best,' Nwokenife
managed to mutter these words from his shaky mouth, as he
tried to let loose the boy's arm that twisted round his thighs
like an agbu, which was knotted round the stem of a palm
tree.
'It's okay my son,' Mbanefo told the young man, bent down
and assisted Nwokenife to forcefully unwrap the boy's arm.
He pulled him to his side and they all sauntered straight into
Nwokenife's parlour where so many people clustered around
like bees and were weeping.
'Please Nwokenife, just sit down here biko ', Ejiofor pleaded
with him and pulled closer a long bench, which was empty
very close to the window and they all sat down on it and
viewed through the window space in order to have a sight of
everything that was happening outside.
'Nwokenife my good friend, please stop crying like a woman
and be strong. If you continue this way, it won't be a good
idea. Think about this; who is going to console your two sons
if you choose to weep like a child?' Just look at what you are
doing in the presence of Ebube, your son,' Ejiofor squeezed
out these words from his mouth, as his eyes were wet and
reddish.
'Ejiofor my good friend, aru emee! I can't still believe that my
wife is gone. Nwanyi Oma my lovely wife. If crying for her
loss will make the whole villagers to classify me as a weak
man, so be it, because I don't care. Do you mean that my
precious possession has disappeared just like that? Mbanefo,
the most horrible part of this nightmare is that she was
never ill; I mean nothing was wrong with her. She woke me
up in the middle of the night six days ago and started
screaming; her head! Her head! And that was it. Before I
could run to Nwachi's house to plead with him to convey us
to our community hospital at Oji, she was already gone. We
thought it was a joke so we insisted and drove her down to
the hospital but Dr Obidigbo confirmed to us on our arrival
that she had given up the ghost. Uwa! ' Nwokenife shook his
head, folded his arm and kept them in between his legs and
tears surged from his eyes, through his cheek and pasa, it
landed on the ground.
At exactly 10:00am, Rev Osondu who was the parish priest
at the Holy Trinity Anglican Church Alum village arrived in the
deceased compound. Other church members, friends and
families had already settled down under their respective
bamboo canopies earlier and were patiently waiting for his
arrival so that he could initiate the opening ceremony of the
final burial rites of Nwanyi Oma, which would be given to her
as a Christian woman.
Osondu's arrival ushered in a kind of calmness in the
atmosphere of Nwokenife's compound, as those individual
who wanted to cry and express their emotions had taken
their time earlier to pour out as many tears as they wished,
since Nwanyi Oma's dead body arrived at about forty-five
minutes ago. Shouting and crying was also part of the rites
of a dead person in most African communities. Both the evil
people and the good ones would always observe this rights
and some individuals could even go to the extent of pulping
themselves on the dust of the earth and inflicting injuries on
their bodies.
Rev. Osondu who parked his motorcycle under an ugiri tree
that was in front of Nwokenife's compound on his arrival,
strode straight towards the bamboo canopy where his church
members were seated. He sat on a short bench that was in
front, close to a wooden table that was covered with a white
piece of cloth, and a bible and a hymn book were placed on
it. Osondu bent down as he was seated, said a little prayer
silently within some seconds and afterwards, he stood up and
the burial mass began.
'Shall we all stand on our feet', he urged the congregation
and some people stood up, while some others ignored him
and fixed their buttocks very tight on their wooden bench. He
led them in an opening prayer, after which he called out few
hymns and it was chanted by the church members and other
villagers that came with their ekpere n'abu.
While the burial mass was going on, so many women from
Alum village that came for the burial were not paying
attention to the mass, but rather, they gathered themselves
and were seated under an orange tree that was few meters
away from the canopy where the church people were. These
women were busy discussing about this mysterious and
untimely death of Nwanyi Oma. Some of the women were of
the opinion that her death was not natural, that it must have
been orchestrated by some evil people or forces. Some
others narrated how premature death of young men and
women had savaged their village, leaving no clue of those
responsible for this evil act in the recent time. They pointed
out how good Nwanyi Oma was and they wondered how
someone on this earth would think of pointing a finger at her,
let alone deleting her from the face of the earth. Adanne, a
woman from Umuneri village, who was a very close friend of
Nwanyi Oma told them that a similar incident happened in
their neighbourhood a fortnight ago. In fact, they confessed
that the rate at which people were dying in their villages in
this recent time had become so anomalous and very
excruciating. They wished and prayed that the law of karma
would prevail someday in their land.
Visit the blog ………………. to read Chapter two and the
concluding part of Silent Tears.
(Emeka is a young Nigerian writer who is endowed in a
special way with storytelling knack, just like his ancestors.
His short fiction stories and poems have emerged as Guest
Post on 'ALocoVivaVoce,' and host of other literary blogs.
{Email: emekaubesie@yahoo.com , Twitter: @emeka_ubesie})
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