Chapter 18: Chapter 18

The sacred masquerade came out again the night before. This is no longer a rumor. Most people have now borne testimony to the fact. The chieftains agreed within themselves for a meeting with the Igwe. They must seek a solution to the predicament befalling the community. But it seemed the Igwe fell short of the knowledge of all the happenings. His silence was telling, and they must bring him to awareness before the worst begins to happen.

“To what do I owe this visit? I have least expected to receive anyone this day,” the Igwe said with some marks of amazement. Of course, he was only saying. His courtyard is in fact the community muster ground.

“We have come to whisper with you,” Olisa said.

“I hope all is well?” the Igwe inquired.

Before Olisa could pull words together, Nwokocha hijacked the speech from his mouth. Olisa beamed him one scornful gaze. He had wanted himself to be the one to announce to the Igwe.

“All is not well. Not when the sacred masquerades come out every nightfall.”

“I have heard from hearsay. The talk is all over the community. I have been waiting the priest to say something about it, but now you are here.”

“What you heard is true, Igwe. A few nights ago, some women ran into my yard to seek refuge. They had to spend the night in my wife’s inn, if not, their world would have been over.”

“We must do something before our wives and daughters begin to lose their wombs.”

The Igwe thought it right to send for the priest, and so he did. It did not take much time before the diviner arrived.

“What do I hear goes on in the community?”

“I hear the community telling about the appearance of the sacred masquerade, but the gods are yet to speak.”

“What do we do? Because as I hear, this story is true.”

The priest after listening to the Igwe broke into incantation with the spirits. He has on this day appeared as every ordinary person. Only the ones who knew him well can tell when they see him as now. Sometimes when he retired from his office, he chose to live like every normal person. As he sang the incantation, he removed chalk from his bag and drew a wide circle. Then he brought out some beads and tossed, puzzled, and shrugged his shoulders.

“We must produce two red hens and a white he-goat to appease the spirit. I can hear it threatening to devour wombs.”

“We will produce those to your office as fast as we can, so you can proceed with the appeasement.”

After his session with the Igwe ended, he stood up and took his leave. As soon as he left, they dropped the topic for another.

“I heard your daughter was too much for your guests?” Ukpaka said to Nwosu, and all burst into laughter.

“A woman is never too much for a man. Only the custom we know can stop a man,” Olisa said after finding his voice.

“Olisa has said it all,” Nwosu responded.

“I have been wanting to come, but when I heard Isiama wanted her for his son, my legs grew cold,” Ukpaka said.

“You have done the right thing. You do not want to contend with little boys.”

“Now you know the door is still wide open,” Nwosu responded.

Ukpaka stood up and went outside, broke fifteen strands of broomsticks, and returned.

“Let the Igwe bear witness to our bargain,” Ukpaka said as he counted the broomsticks, and pass to the men on his side. They took turns counting and confirming the numbers. The broomsticks went round like so and returned to his hand. He looked across to the men he has reached out to and received affirmation. So, he presented the stake to Nwosu who collected and confirmed.

“Fifteen?” Nwosu asked, and Ukpaka responded with a nod.

He passed the broomsticks to the men close to him, and they counted and confirmed, and returned it to him. When he looked across to them, they all affirmed with nods. So, he pocketed the stake into his bag.

“When will you come to take your wife?”

“I will come in one week. Let me first build her inn. I would not want her to enter into battle with the kitchen head when I bring her in.”

“My daughter is a peaceful girl.”

All affirmed Nwosu’s boast, claiming they have never seen her in rue with anyone.

“Now everything went on well, I will offer a keg of palm wine to mark this day,” the Igwe toast. The keg of palm wine came almost as immediate as he has asked.

The men drank themselves to stupor. None of them retired until there was nothing left in the keg. Even so, some shook the keg for the last droplets before they agreed the feast was over. The chieftains stood up one after the other and took their leave. When Ukpaka stood up, he first staggered to the Igwe and bowed.

“Bless me let me go, Igwe.”

“Is there any blessing bigger than having a young maiden under your roof?” The Igwe mustered from his drunken stupor. “Ukpaka get up and go. The gods have blessed you beyond measures.”

Ukpaka remained put in his position. Until everyone joined voices and urged the Igwe did he take up his tusk, stroke his back, and said the blessing.

“Now I can go in peace,” he said. As if the population in the Igwe’s inn was dense, he pushed his way through, blowing his siren as he went. “Leave the way let me pass.”

All the chieftains felt hearty as they stormed the pathways.

The last day of the week came and Ukpaka and a handful of people came carrying to Nwosu’s court a bulk load of items. There are five kegs of palm wine, a hundred count of tubers of yam, twenty heads of kola nuts, and two fattened he-goats.

Ijeoma saw the affluence which Ukpaka has come with and her heart melted like a piece of ice water. She followed him, even before her mother who was now more willing to relinquish her could urge her.

“Ukpaka’s stake is high, but the chassis deserves it,” everyone affirmed.

Fourteen days after the priest collected items for appeasement, the appearance never seized. This time, the rumor of it intensified. The revelation of what could be the cause began to unfold. People said some men have seen Ezzum masquerade held in the custody of the Local Authority.

It was obvious the conciliation did not work, and the gods have refused to speak. The Igwe assembled a team of the search party to look for the men who have seen their masquerade. If they can get these people to lead them to the Local Authority, their problem is half solved.

He has cause to not dismiss this news as untrue. It is an abomination for their masquerade to spend days outside the community. Wherever in the world it ever went, it completed the voyage within a day, and returned before nightfall. This has never happened in the history of their existence. If this claim turns out to be true, let the gods forbid that unworthy hand has unmasked the spirit.

“We do not know the men,” the search team cried.

“Look for them, or our world will perish.”

“We do not know where to look.”

“Go into every community and search everywhere. Tell them the Igwe of the people of Ezzum sent you. You must return with them or at least, the men who can lead us to the Local Authority.”

After he dismissed the search party, he sent for Ikebe, the town crier. Ikebe received the summon and responded as prompt as always. He could always guess the purpose of his summon. Whenever he says to the messenger, ‘give me a moment and I will join you’, he reemerged with his ekwe.

As Ikebe followed the Igwe’s messenger, he tried to engage him in chitchat but failed. In every topic he roused, he ended up being the only party to the conversation.

“Are you dumb?” Ikebe asked with bitterness.

“They grow mum so long as they worked for the Igwe,” he thought and began to feel sorry for yelling at him. Sympathy roused in his heart as he imagined a life without talking. But sooner, his brain returned to function to remind him the person is not dumb.

“Was he not the one who informed me a few moments ago the Igwe like to have me?” He queried in his thought. “Will this man now says he is living life? What is life without talking?”

He concluded the messenger only talked as many words apportioned him.

“Have you come? Tell everyone to remain in their court until we bring this tension into apprehension. Tell the chieftains to come at once,” the Igwe rapped his message. Ikebe got every piece of it, being a man who hears the first word and knows what the next would be.

The town crier’s ekwe blared, cutting into the stilled air. There has been tension ever since the news of the captured masquerade broke. This was the strangest news they have ever heard.

“Community people listen. The Igwe has instructed everyone to remain in their yard until they work a solution to the problem of our land.” He paused, and let the heat to cool off, then in the same spot he stood, he beat up for the second. “The Igwe has asked all the chieftains to converge in his court.”

All who heard jumped into their yards, except the nobles who stormed the footpath to the Igwe’s inn.

“How do we go to fetch our masquerade from the Local Authority?” He roused the matter of concern to the assembly.

“I have come to know these people are more lunatic than anyone can ever imagine,” one of the chieftains said.

“Do we fight them with our hoes and machete, or our hunting guns? They are not our match. They have foreign guns, and those stern face warriors,” another said.

“We have sold our minds for cheap hearsay. Are our gods too weak they cannot fight?”

“Where have we ever heard a mere mortal could hold a spirit to a place? Who has ever contended with the spirit and lived in peace?”

“If they have our masquerade, they must have sweated blood, and by now, they would have begun pleading us.”

“If this is true, then they must be stronger beyond our knowledge. I am saying we should not contest battle with men capable of this might.”

“It has been a long time since they came. I fear they have not yet unmasked the masquerade.”

“How has our way crossed with these dark men of the world? I smell doom upon our land. Only the gods know the next trouble in store for us.”

“We must go to the Local Authority, let them say they do not have our masquerade, and our minds will rest,” the Igwe said. He watched the expression on everyone’s face and knew this was a grievous case. He must be at the forefront. So, he first anointed himself before seeking more legs. “Who will go with me to the Local Authority?”

“If the masquerade is by truth held captive, who will be able to stand its fierceness? Let the one who understands the language of the spirit take charge.”

“Only the diviner is worthy to undertake this task. I will suggest he go with the Igwe. He will know what to do with the spirit. He can appease its anger when it arouses.”

All adopted the last suggestion. Aside, nobody was willing to step outside the boundary of the community. The dread of the Local Authority has become alive in their hearts. The session ended with a unanimous consensus, leaving the weight laid on the Igwe and his priest.

Before the ground got rowdy, Nwosu called his in-law, Ukpaka to aside.

“How are you fairing with my daughter?”

“We are well.”

“I have not heard anything from you, and it will in a few days’ time become a full month. Will you be coming to mark my daughter’s chastity?”

“Please do not talk about that, lest I get weary and begin to count my losses.”

“Is there anything I have not known?”

“Your daughter was loose when I brought her into my court,” Ukpaka said, shaking his head in dismay. If not that Nwosu asked, he had resolved to bury the matter in his stomach. “You cannot get a young maiden today, and swear you got her whole. The world is becoming something else.”

“Do not announce our shame to the world. Please lower your voice, the walls have ears.”

“What is my price if I keep your daughter?”

Nwosu looked to his side and found a bunch of broom lying on the ground. He went and broke three strands from it, and offered to Ukpaka.

“I will repay you three broomsticks,” he said.

Ukpaka went and broke three strands and added to the numbers. He returned the six strands to Nwosu, and said, “We both know how much the chassis you offered me is worth. But for a person of my status, I will still keep my stake this high.”

Nwosu removed one from the numbers and reoffered five to Ukpaka.

“Ukpaka, I have tried. This is not easy.”

“You owe me five broomsticks worth.”

“I will pay in due course,” Nwosu affirmed. They returned to join the parties to their pathways. The groups would again be dissecting the matter roused in the session as they went.