Wake Me When I'm Gone

by Odafe Atogun

  As we neared the dwelling of the orphans, a faint light suddenly appeared ahead of us. I stopped and pulled Noah to me. ‘Be still!’ I whispered to him.

  We stayed rooted to the spot. Soon, I could make out dark figures walking in our direction, and I could hear their voices in the quiet night. I dropped to the ground and pulled Noah down with me. Leaving the bags by the roadside, we crawled behind a tree nearby. ‘Don’t say a word,’ I urged.

  In my ears, the sound of my laboured breathing had become as loud as a drum. I placed a hand on my chest to suppress the sound. Squinting into the darkness, I could make out three or four figures now, one bearing a lantern and leading the way, the others walking behind. They had gone past the tree behind which we were hiding when one of them stumbled over the bags and let out a loud exclamation.

  ‘What happened?’ someone shouted.

  ‘Give me the light,’ another said.

  ‘See, bags!’

  ‘Maybe they belong to the orphans.’

  ‘Let’s open them.’

  ‘No! They might contain something dangerous.’

  ‘They are ordinary bags. I say we open them.’

  The men squatted around the bags.

  And then Noah began to cry.

  *

  The men identified themselves as royal guards. They seized us and took us back to the village and brought us before the Chief, who had to be awakened. Suddenly, there were bright lanterns and guards everywhere, as if the village had come under a state of emergency in the dead of night.

  ‘We found them in the outskirts, trying to escape from the village,’ one of the guards explained to the Chief.

  The Chief instructed that we should be kept under house arrest until the case against me was decided by the priests. ‘Not for one second are you to take your eyes off them,’ he warned. He did not bother to address me, and I saw no point in trying to speak to him.

  The guards took us back home and threw a security cordon around our compound. I took Noah into my room, where he promptly fell asleep. He looked so exhausted, and my heart wept for him. I lay beside him on the bed, but I found sleep impossible. I blamed myself for our arrest. All I wanted to do was cry. Without making any sound, so as not to disturb Noah, I allowed my tears to roll freely, and I hid my face against the pillow.

  ‘Mother,’ I heard Noah calling to me in the morning, ‘it is daybreak.’ His voice seemed to tug at me.

  I realised that I had fallen asleep at some point during the night. The sun of a new day pierced the bedroom through the gaps in the curtains. I raised myself on one arm and threw the window open. Noah was sitting up in bed, his back against the wall, the blanket drawn up to his chin. He was looking at me with round eyes. For a moment, I was lost. And then it all came to me, and I felt myself choking with tears. We were trapped; there was no way out.

  I drew Noah into my arms, hiding my face behind him so that he would not see my tears. We stayed like that until I composed myself. And then I looked into his face and smiled hopefully at him.

  ‘Good morning, Mother,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Good morning, my son,’ I replied. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m sorry that I cried last night.’

  ‘Never mind,’ I said, ruffling his hair. ‘You must have been very tired.’

  ‘What are they going to do to us now? Are we going to run away again?’

  ‘Don’t worry. In a few days, when this is all over, we will go somewhere far away and live happily ever after.’

  ‘Where is this place, Mother?’

  ‘You’ll see when we get there.’ I smiled to brighten his mood.

  *

  The royal guards assigned to watch us would not allow Noah to go out to play. Our movement was limited to our compound and farm. Noah wanted to know why the guards were loitering outside and why he could not go out. I told him not to mind their presence, that in a few days he would be free to go out again. I made up my mind to do a deal with Chair-Lady. We needed each other. In return for going back to Main Street, she must get the Chief to relax the law. With her on my side, the law could be set aside temporarily. Hopefully, the merchants would come back and then I would take my time to escape with Noah. For now, I had to buy time.

  I spoke with one of the guards, requesting an audience with Chair-Lady.

  ‘Why do you need to see her?’ he asked.

  ‘I want her to take an important message to the Chief,’ I replied.

  He looked uncertain.

  ‘A while ago she visited me to discuss a serious matter that concerns the whole village,’ I explained. ‘If you tell her that I have good news for her, she will understand. I would have gone to see her myself, but as you know, I’m under house arrest. And surely, the Chief’s order does not prevent anyone from coming to visit me.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll get your message across to her,’ he said reluctantly and walked away.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said after him.

  Chair-Lady came to see me that evening. She was cold and detached.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ I said to her with a smile.

  ‘Why have you asked to see me?’

  ‘The last time you came I could not give you the news you wanted to hear. That’s why I have asked to see you, to discuss the possibility of reviving Main Street.’

  ‘Are you saying that you are willing to come back?’

  ‘Yes, I’m willing to come back, if you are willing to use your authority to help me,’ I replied candidly.

  ‘And in what way may I help you?’

  ‘As you must be aware, the law requires me to remarry within a period of time or lose custody of my son. The Chief wants me to marry him, I don’t want to. And the priests have notified me that they will come to pass judgement in a few days. I tried to escape from the village with my son, but the royal guards apprehended us, and we have been placed under house arrest since then. I need your help. Please, I need you to talk to the Chief and ask him to give me more time. Surely it is in his power to do so. In return, I will come back to Main Street and help to rebuild the village’s economy.’

  ‘You have asked a very difficult thing,’ Chair-Lady said with a sigh.

  ‘Think of the benefits for the whole village if I return to Main Street.’

  ‘I know, I know, but we are talking about the law. The priests are already involved. And once they are involved in a matter, not even the Chief can stop them from performing their duty. That law has always been there, and you may not have been aware of it because no one has ever broken it before. You are the first, Ese. It will be difficult for me to defend you or to influence the Chief on the matter.’

  ‘Surely an exception can be made in my case, considering that I can help to salvage the village’s economy and put us back on the map. You could put this before them to make a case for me.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not promising anything. If I were to give you my advice, I would say marry the Chief. It’s no small privilege for any woman to be married to the Chief. You will never have to worry about anything again.’

  ‘But I cannot marry the Chief. I cannot marry a man I don’t love.’ I shook my head.

  ‘What has love got to do with marriage?’ Chair-Lady asked, baffled. ‘You do not marry because of love but because tradition requires you to be married. Tell me, how many marriages were contracted on the basis of love in the whole of this village? Certainly not mine. I don’t love my husband, yet I have been married to him for nearly thirty years.’

  ‘When I married Tanto, I did so because I loved him.’

  ‘But now he is dead. And the law of our land is clear.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘What about Noah?’ I asked, studying Chair-Lady’s face intently.

  ‘What about him?’ she asked, scrutinising my face in return.

  ‘What will happen to him if I marry the Chief and take him to live in the palace? All the widows the Chief has married have lost their children. They say the pa
lace is cursed.’

  Chair-Lady looked away from me, unable to say anything. I knew then, without any doubt, that I could never marry the Chief.

  We lingered in tense silence.

  ‘Chair-Lady, please help me. I know you can.’

  ‘Well, I must go now,’ she said, still not looking at me. ‘I will come back to see you.’ She rose to leave.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, rising up to see her to the door. I could see the guards outside with their swords.

  *

  That night, Noah came down with a fever that left him very weak. I got some leaves from the neem tree in the backyard and boiled them in a large pot. I made him drink a cup of the liquid – he took it reluctantly, for it was very bitter. Then I poured the rest into half a bucket of water and bathed him with it. He stopped shivering afterwards, and his temperature dropped a little, but he remained weak. When I had managed to get him to eat a little food, I tucked him into my bed and watched over him until he fell asleep.

  He slept deeply. Feeling anxious, I stayed up all night and fell asleep just before dawn. I must have slept for about an hour or two. When I awoke, Noah was still sleeping. I opened the window carefully to let in some fresh air. Noah stirred and opened his eyes slightly. He mumbled something, then closed his eyes again and went back to sleep.

  I went to the kitchen to prepare him a cup of neem tea. When I returned to the bedroom with the tea, his eyes were open. I sat next to him and placed my palm against his cheek to gauge his temperature. It seemed okay. ‘Good morning, my son. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Good morning, Mother. I feel a little better,’ he said, speaking with a slight slur, ‘but my tongue is heavy.’ He sat up in bed.

  I smiled at him. ‘It’s because you are just waking up. Here, I brought you a cup of neem tea. You will feel better once you’ve taken it.’ I held the cup out to him.

  ‘It’s too bitter. I don’t like it.’ He made a face.

  ‘But it will help you to get well,’ I said gently. ‘Try it, it’s good for you.’ I took a sip from the cup before passing it to him. ‘Come on, drink it in one go.’

  He held the cup to his mouth, tilted his head backwards, and emptied the contents gradually.

  ‘I’m proud of you!’ I said, taking the cup from him and ruffling his hair.

  ‘It’s so bitter.’

  ‘It’s the bitterness that will make you well.’

  ‘I’ll never fall ill again so I won’t have to drink it again.’ He shook his head.

  I smiled at him. ‘Yes, my son, you will never fall ill again.’

  *

  Noah had a good appetite that morning and I felt happy and grateful that he was getting better. But my happiness was cut short when Chair-Lady came to see me that afternoon. She would not come in, and she stood by the door to address me.

  ‘I did my best,’ she said with a small shrug, ‘but the Chief insisted that the law must take its course. If you don’t get married by the end of today, tomorrow you will lose your son. But the good news is that the Chief is still willing to marry you to save you from widowhood.’ She smiled, as if to encourage me.

  ‘My son will die if I marry the Chief and take him to live with me in the palace.’ My voice was filled with anguish.

  ‘You will bear other children,’ Chair-Lady replied coldly. ‘And who knows, your son may be lucky and thrive in the palace. It’s a chance you should take.’

  ‘No,’ I whispered, shaking my head. ‘No, I cannot take that chance!’

  ‘You would prefer to lose him to Jaja, knowing how wicked a man he is?’

  My eyes filled with tears. And soon they were rolling down my face.

  ‘I wish you luck while you wait for love. But let me tell you, I don’t know of any bachelor who will want to marry a widow as a first wife. Your best chance is to marry the Chief now.’

  ‘This is no longer about love,’ I said with frustration. ‘This is about my son!’

  Chair-Lady sighed and shook her head, looking upon me with pity. ‘I wish you luck. I must get going now. Goodbye, Ese.’

  I watched her leave.

  I made frantic efforts to reach out to my neighbours. I begged one of the guards to take word to Pa Umoh and Ma Umoh, but he came back to say that they were not available. Then I sent word to Duka – he too was not available. With my heart beating fearfully, it occurred to me that my son and I were all on our own.

  *

  I went through the rest of the day in a daze. Each time I looked through the window, it seemed to me that the guards had increased in number and that their swords had become longer.

  I tried to get word to my parents, but the guards had become hostile and they declined my request. I pleaded with them, but they pushed me back into the house.

  All I could do was cry quietly while Noah slept. I lay beside him, burying my face in the pillow. For the first time since Tanto passed away, I felt that he had betrayed me by dying. I looked up to heaven, and it occurred to me that the missionary had sold us a lie that a greater god lived up there. I had never felt so bitter. But, putting my arm around Noah, I felt reassured somehow, and I told myself that the missionary was right about one thing – Noah was truly my comfort.

  As if a spell had been cast upon us, we slept all day and all night. I awoke in the early hours of dawn, and I was alarmed at how high his temperature had risen. He was covered in sweat and he was shivering beneath the blanket. I shot out of bed and rushed into the kitchen. I lit the stove, filled a pot full of neem leaves with water, and put it on to boil.

  When I returned to the bedroom with a cup of the herbal tea, Noah was still shivering, but his eyes were now open. I found a small spoon, and I raised him up gently and fed him the tea with the spoon. He made a face, but I managed to get him to finish the contents of the cup. And then I went back to the kitchen and poured some of the herbal potion into a bucket. Returning to the bedroom, I dipped a towel in the bucket, squeezed it, and used it to mop his body gently.

  Soon, he stopped shivering, and his breathing, which was laboured, slowly began to ease. ‘Mother,’ he called, reaching for my hand, ‘are we still going away?’

  ‘Rest, my son,’ I said. ‘When you are fully recovered we will talk about it.’

  ‘Okay, Mother,’ he replied and closed his eyes.

  *

  Having no one to turn to, I looked up to heaven once again and begged whoever dwelled there to help me. ‘I need your help,’ I said, ‘please make my son well.’ This became my mantra for the rest of the morning while Noah slept. I stayed by his side, fearing to leave him for a minute. The longer he slept, the more fervently I prayed. Much later, he woke up, ate, and went back to sleep.

  The nightmare took a turn for the worse when there was a loud knock on our door before noon. I jumped up with fright. Noah continued to sleep. And then the house shook to its foundation as the door was kicked open. I rushed into the living room, and there in front of me were some royal guards, followed by the priests. Behind the priests were four muscular men, bald-headed and bare-chested, with eyes that glowed with fire.

  I crumpled to the floor. ‘What do you want from us?’ I wailed.

  The High Priest spoke. His voice was crisp. ‘We have found you guilty of refusing to remarry, as stipulated by the laws of our land. As such, you shall lose custody of your son until you comply with the law.’

  The muscular men stepped forward. ‘We are the enforcers, and we have come to administer the sentence,’ one of them said. ‘We have come to collect the boy. His father’s brother is waiting outside to take custody of him. In due course, you will be allowed to pay him visits.’

  ‘Please don’t take my son from me. He’s ill with fever, he’s terribly weak . . . please.’ I spoke in a rush. ‘Please don’t take him away from me, I beg you in the name of your gods.’

  Two of the enforcers gripped me by either arm. I cried out and struggled to no effect. One went from room to room, and he came out carrying Noah with one hand. M
y son just stared sadly at me, too weak to speak. He had silent tears in his eyes. And as they took him away, the men held me in a vice-like grip that made it impossible for me to go to his rescue. All I could do was raise my voice to heaven. Noah turned to look at me just once more.

  When they had all gone, I was left alone in a heap on the floor. I tore at my hair as I wept, racked with guilt for not being able to save my son.

  FIVE

  Now, I lived in a trance, alone in the house. I was still under house arrest, not yet a free woman. They had said that I would be allowed to visit Noah, but I did not know their definition of ‘in due course’.

  ‘We will tell you when it is time,’ one of the guards said. ‘You cannot go out yet, but you are allowed to receive visitors.’

  But no one cared to visit me. I wandered through the house. I felt bitter towards the Chief, the priests, the enforcers and the royal guards. I felt certain that I could kill the Chief if I had the opportunity. The days dragged, the nights were longer. One afternoon, looking through a window, I saw Duka passing by with a net of fish.

  ‘Duka,’ I called out to him, ‘I need your help, please.’

  He stopped for a minute, and he gave me a blank look. Then he continued on his way.

  I felt wretched that I was unable to protect my dear son and I thought it was pointless to continue to live without him. I wanted to take my own life. But I reminded myself that, if I did that, Noah would become an orphan and could end up in the abandoned building on the outskirts of the village. So I pushed the thought far from my mind.

  I prayed fervently for the time when I could visit my son. I wondered if his fever had gone; I trembled at the thought that he may still be feeling unwell. What were they doing to him? How were they treating him? The pain was too raw for me to bear. I stayed endlessly by the window, watching people go by, hoping for a miracle. None of them cared to look in my direction, and I knew that they were following the Chief’s instructions.

  In spite of my misery, life carried on normally in the village. I felt so pained I could no longer cry. Sometimes I managed to cook and eat a little, just enough to keep me strong, for I knew that I must stay alive for Noah’s sake. I reasoned that, compared to a life at the palace, Noah was in less danger in Jaja’s house. I held on to this small consolation.