Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Every girl’s desire was to garner a handful of attraction to herself. Their gods have bestowed them with less sophisticated minds from creation. They do not house too many troubles and stresses of the world.

On a typical day, after their routine house chores, they retired to their circles. The girls took turns loosening their old hair and trying out new hairstyles. This was all that kept life rolling for them.

The memories from last night's event at Njoku’s courtyard stuck to Ijeoma’s heart. She could not forestall the thoughts about it from slipping into her head. The harder she tried, the easier the thought escaped into her. She had gained the attention of some crowd of men in the gathering. Her charms did not spare the young men even. They drowned by every sways and flash of her waist beads which were colorful. The beads did right as regards bringing out the full weight of her assets.

She stood out from the crowd of other girls. Everyone whom she encountered fell to her spell. Some admired her good looks, and others envied her. With her charms, she commanded a certain charisma in her circle.

Last night, she was conscious of every eye that followed her to every cranny of the courtyard. She admired every bit of admiration she gained. No girl ever despised such. They saw it as a booster to their ego.

Of all the men, there was one who kept on sliding into her mind. His name was Kachi — tall, muscular, and in his youthfulness. He has a gap in his upper row, and his smiles were broad. When he smiles, his rows glittered. His muscular physique had a long time ago captivated Ijeoma. She has been waiting for an opportunity to win him over. But he was shy and unable to garner the courage to voice his wants. Kachi appeared to be in the class of those who chewed their words and swallowed with their saliva. This class of people never want, and they do not ask. People believed they do not feel as much as half the hunger of a regular person. Against Kachi’s likeness, he has friends. Boisterous ones.

One will not believe the introverted Kachi associated with some group of chatters. He and his friends had no similarity in persons. If there were any at all, it lived in the deep recesses of his heart. The fact was, Kachi was not a big talker, but a good listener. He loved the company of his boisterous friends.

The best associates he kept were — Chima, Ezeagu, and Mmadu. The topic of discourse they came up with on daily basis enticed him, and he was learning a good deal. He contributed close to nothing to the discussion. His only chip-in was the nods, agreeing with everyone’s points of argument. His bumper smiles were all he had to give.

“I know how the hymen looks like,” Mmadu said. He wore a queer smile as a boy who knew he stood above his peers. This was one evil of the new order. The teenagers now went agog with the awareness of their personal freedom. They spoke about sexuality in a rather nonchalant manner. These days, only the aging kept and guided the tradition from crashing. The worse sacrilege would be to have the violators trample upon the custom.

The youths discovered their fears were on false ground. It sprang from overemphasizing the omnipotence of Ogwu. Ogwu had its shrine, but they believe it was overseeing all the affairs of the world. There was a calabash of the liquid screen from which the deity oversaw the people of the world.

“Have we not seen Dibias peek into this calabash of the liquid screen to follow the events of a client’s life?” This question was the winning line for any argument about the power of the gods. The Dibia’s screen was a smaller model but can see this much. Even so, the Dibias were only followers of the footsteps of the gods and were of no measure.

One can play god's role to any rate, but not declaring his equality to their ranks. It was sacrilegious to even harbor the thoughts of one’s likeness to the gods. This was the sole reason Chineke-Nna cast Ekwensu from their dwelling in Enu-Igwe to the earth. Every man who commits such sacrilege must fall as Ekwensu fell from the sky. In a man’s case, he falls six-foot beyond the ground.

The Dibias knew very much that the gods have not shielded their eyes from the events of their own lives. They too were under watch as their clients. These dibias knew their boundaries and acted with caution not to trespass. They revered the customs because they as the diviners were in the front row of the god’s liquid screen.

The little folks understood so long they were not in the shrine’s environment, they have escaped the wrath. So, they now played dubious tricks and talked dirty. They only composed themselves once within eyeshot of elders. As such, they evaded paying for violating the custom.

“How does the hymen look like?” Chima asked intrigued, “I heard it grows back if it is not pricked hard.”

“That is true. I have heard so too,” Mmadu responded.

“I would love to see it someday,” Ezeagu said, throwing Kachi into total bewilderment. Before now, he had thought he was the only one who was in benightment. He determined to grow off his shells and champion someone at least for the first time.

After reuniting Ugonne to Chiwendu’s circle, Ijeoma let resentment into her heart. She discovered Ugonne had an interest in the man of her choice. They were together all the while in Njoku’s courtyard. Ugonne claims it was she who Kachi’s eyes followed. She even said her eyes met his twice, and he threw his face away.

The two friends dismissed their luck to fate. Fighting over something suspended in the air was as foolish as nothing. That is the worse stupidity because upon victory none of the warring parties could get the medal. The universe had its way of appropriating rights to the deserved.

Ijeoma could not place her mind to rest. She was afraid of luck escaping her. She felt intense emotion, so she sorts the advice of the master game maker. Chiwendu has a wealth of knowledge in matters of sort. She had only accepted Ugonne’s reunion because of Ijeoma’s influence. This was her chance to deal a heavy blow on Ugonne’s neck, and she will feel good. The task was simple. She could help Ijeoma win Kachi at Ugonne’s expense.

“For one to get anything good out of this world, one must defy customs.”

“What did you mean by defying customs?” Ijeoma asked.

“Before he made up his mind, not in your favor, you have to approach him.”

“Tufiakwa!” Ijeoma cursed. She circled her head, spat, and snapped her fingers. “I can’t do that. It is an abomination.”

In their tradition, it was not in a women’s place to propose a relationship to the male. No one ever did that. It was an abomination in the land. The high god, Chineke-Nna would never bless such union. Roleplay in civil union incurred many wraths — from miscarriage to stillbirth.

“Then keep waiting on fate. I hope you have the heart to bear the lost?” Chiwendu responded with the anger of her rebuffed piece of advice. Outright rejection of her counsel was what pissed her most times. If anyone knew her so well, the best way to deal with her was to accept everything she offered, even one will not use them.

“This is strange, but I would try,” Ijeoma said.

“Everything is for your own good. I love to see that you are happy.”

“Thank you.”

In the noontide, Ijeoma sorted Kachi’s hangout. There was a place she had seen him sitting by himself on one or two occasions. She had to go before she changed her mind or Ugonne goes before her. Who knows if Ugonne nurses the same plan as her? Kachi was sitting on the trunk of the fallen tree, feeding his eyes with the patches of dying grasses.

“Kachi, you’re here?” Ijeoma asked, awakening Kachi from his absenteeism. “Is this not the tree struck down by Amadioha’s ax of thunder?”

“Yes, this is the tree. The custom has not forbidden one sitting on it. Has it?”

“No. I never heard it was,” Ijeoma said. She helped herself to space beside Kachi. “People said witches held meetings at midnight on the tree and was why Amadioha struck it down.” She paused and stared at her listener to measure his interest. “Do you believe the story?”

“There are many things with the stories we hear these days. When people said the spirits will pluck off one’s eyes if he looked through the gap between his legs, they lied. I have seen many people who did and are still living. But something must be responsible for the fall of the tree, but I cannot tell what.”

Ijeoma weighed Kachi’s response, wondering how much she could get out of him. “Had Chiwendu not said sometimes ago that a shy lip loosened when it beholds what its heart desired?” This intrigued her. She never knew him to talk this much.

“I have once again confirmed Kachi is in love with me. He enjoys having a conversation with me,” Ijeoma thought.

“Whatever was responsible was not enough reason,” she replied.

“Even the grasses are dying.”

“You are missing the fresh vegetation?” Ijeoma asked

“Not only that. I also missed playing ambush games.”

“Oh! ha-ha.”

Kachi’s desires for the ambush game amused Ijeoma. The boys invented the dubious game, but even the girls played it. During the wet seasons when bush covered the paths, they tied stubborn leaves across. They did this so that anyone crossing will hang his feet and stumble after missing a step. The result was definite — everyone who stumbled must fall. When they perpetrated this scheme, they hid and counted their victims. They observed if anyone discovered the trap, and sliced it with a machete. They will go and retie the grass if they were not satisfied.

“My mother has a garden. You can come and look at it anytime you want,” Ijeoma said.

“Do you invite everyone to your mother’s court?”

“No. Only people I like,” Ijeoma responded. She looked away with her racing heart. “Do you take everyone’s invitation?”

“I may accept all invitations, but I will not honor all.”

“So, would you becoming?”

“Of course, I will come.”

“That means you love me?” Ijeoma asked.

“Yes.”

“I love you too,” she confessed, seized hold of Kachi’s hand, and heaved.

“I heard every girl has a hymen?”

“How did you learn about this?”

“My friends,” Kachi responded and waited to hear a response from Ijeoma. When he felt like she was not going to respond, he asked, “is it true?”

“Yes, it is. But this is sex talk. We should not be talking about such. The custom forbid.”

“Can I see how it looks like? Please,” Kachi begged, throwing Ijeoma into a dilemma. She would refuse, but she did not want to lose him so fast. There was no single resistance left in her as she found herself opening her legs for him.

The anxiety was too much for Kachi to handle. He could not steady his finger, so he poked it by accident. Ijeoma gave out a cry when she felt pains. Kachi has made a mark on her hymen. He felt sorry and assured her the scratch will heal. Ijeoma knew it would. More important was dealing with the pain. She must be good to go home before her mother starts looking for her.