Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Kachi walked Ijeoma through the distance. As they went, he scrambled to get hold of her hand. He did succeed and fumbled with her fingers. Ijeoma allowed him to do whatever he wanted, and she was enjoying every bit of the frolics. Most special was the part he swung her hand up and down, and she bounced along with the rhythm of the swings. He continued like so until they began to see the image of her friends. Even though they had visualized them from distance, Ijeoma could tell with certainty. She could make out the picture of Chiwendu and tell it from Ugonne and Ugonne’s from Kasara. As they drew closer, Kachi struggled to let go of Ijeoma’s hand, but she took turns to tighten her grip.

“What is the matter with you?”

“I don’t understand what.”

“Why are you pushing away my hand?”

“Those are your friends over there.”

“That is why you are struggling to let out?”

There was silence, but she was not expecting any response either. She knew how timid Kachi could get, quite bad. She was still searching for a chance to announce her relationship, but something held her. Each time she thought about how envious Ugonne would feel, she developed cold feet. She did not want to hurt Ugonne’s feelings with the news. Until now, she may still be waiting for fate to drag him to her. Ugonne has not known the smart one has swooped him up hush-hush, and waiting on fate was no longer tenable.

“Would you like to meet my friends?”

“Not today.”

“Of course, we have a lot on our hands today.”

“Where are you girls going?”

“Do you mind coming with us? We are going to the farm to fetch firewood for the Igwe’s funeral.”

“Some other time.”

“Why did you ask then?”

“Because I care.”

She contemplated Kachi’s last statement, and as if she found a resolution, she nodded twice. Kachi let out to her one good beam. She let go of his hand and bade him goodbye, then proceeded to join her waiting friends.

Once Ijeoma rejoined her friends, she heaved, like she had sprinted a long distance. She did succeed in installing such impression as they all looked at her with an eye of consolation.

“She has exhausted her last pint of strength to race down here,” Kasara said, but Ijeoma seemed not to bother. She acted like one who had given out much but still has more in store. Instead of subjecting herself to Kasara’s pity, she began to put in more energies into her act.

“Sorry for taking so long, let us go,” Ijeoma said. She exhibited the sort of energy as of a man who has many jobs in his hands and must finish before considering rest. Such a person perceives recess with contempt because it robbed one of his strength.

“You should not have wasted your energy,” Chiwendu said.

“I have kept you waiting for long,” Ijeoma responded.

“If you had known, you would have gone back home,” Chiwendu said. She only succeeded in throwing Ijeoma into confusion. This one time, Ijeoma realized how disconnected she was from the reality of the situation she met.

“Are we no longer going for the firewood?”

“No, we cannot venture farther,” Ugonne said.

“How did you all become so unwilling? You have been the ones pushing for this task.”

“These paths are no longer safe for us,” Ugonne said. She installed fright to Ijeoma’s heart, and all her energies vanished. The fear bulged her into wanting to ask series of questions. She wanted to ask what they saw? What happened in her absence? But she lost control over her lips muscles as they stuttered when she wanted to use them. Her head swelled, and she felt like she could escape into Chiwendu to hide her face when the turmoil broke.

Kasara understood the uneasiness in Ijeoma. It was the sort she first felt but had since braced herself. The others did not know the feeling, and cannot see what she sees in Ijeoma. Only the one who had been into anxiety knew the pains of the kind of distress and can tell it from someone else’s face.

“We saw a spell circle,” Kasara said.

New marks of the puzzle appeared to Ijeoma’s face, quite different from the one she had worn before. People of their age grade have only heard about the spell circle from tales. Ijeoma soon grew out of the shackles of fright and looked forward to seeing with her two naked eyes.

Kasara felt good with Ijeoma’s victory. The feeling of wanting to disappear from terror was frightening. No one would desire immersion into such pressure or worst, have it written in another’s face. Being in the condition was unlike telling from other’s face. Once fright has upturned one’s senses, she cannot measure her griefs. Her desires at such a difficult time would be salvation.

“It was Ugonne who identified the spell circle,” Kasara explained. Ijeoma paid no audience. Her explanation did not answer the desires building up in her head.

“Where is the spell circle?”

“It is over there, at the three-path junction,” Ugonne said. Before she finished throwing her arms like a surveyor, Ijeoma threw a forward step. Chiwendu pulled her back at once, and she staggered. Her stamina outweighed the force, otherwise, she would have landed on the ground.

“Be mindful, you may step into the spell circle,” Chiwendu warned. She did in her usual way which caused amusement, despite the severity of the matter. Whenever she admonished one, she tempted the person to want to ask the provoking question. Her friends knew her too well, so they never made such grieve mistake of asking, “do you ever feel hurt in your ear?”

“Let us go together. You may not be able to tell it from ordinary circles,” Ugonne said.

The circumference of the spell circle filled the space between the three paths. No one crossed the other paths without having to step into it.

“Who would have done this?”

“Let us thank the gods the paths are not as busy today.”

“Who could tell how many people have fallen into this evil?”

“Many souls are at stake,” Ijeoma said after close examination.

“Do not go too close,” Chiwendu warned again.

“Let us utilize the spell, and send it back to the perpetrator,” Ijeoma proposed, but they forbade. They circled their head, and cursed, “tufiakwa.”

“How do we send the spell back to the perpetrator?” Ugonne asked.

“What if the perpetrator happens to be one of our relationships?” Chiwendu asked concerned.

“What use is an evil relative to me?” Kasara asked, and all affirmed.

Their affirmations urged Ijeoma to proceed. She drew closer to the circle and the others stood back and watched. She raised her arms and showed her armpits to the blank, and said, “Ajomuo, look at my armpit.” Then she spread her palms and said, “look, my hands are clean.” Thereafter, she stepped aside for others who went and did the same as she had done.

Ijeoma advanced again, cupped her palms under her thighs, and came out with her urine. She sprinkled the circle until she exhausted hers. The others followed suit. They did until they covered the area. Then, they enshroud the spot with sand. There was no trace whatsoever. The place looked as though nothing had gone on. Ijeoma jumped into the spot and began to dance, then the others joined her. They went home with the excitement of a people who had liberated a whole community.