The market was bustling as always. Coins were still used for products, but most people would exchange one item for another. The smell of peppers, ginger, and other spices filled the air. Mounds of garri, cassava flakes, onions, tomatoes, rice, and okra lined some of the stalls we passed. We made our way through the sea of sellers and buyers to the butcher section.
Alaba was in front of his store in a blue dashiki and a wrapper tied around his waist. His round face and his round gut complemented each other. He wrapped a piece of meat for a customer, and she left.
“Ah, my favorite daughters,” said Alaba. “Welcome. How are you two today?”
“Good morning,” I said, bowed, and remained bowed. I only raised my head after Alaba touched my shoulder. Kemi did the same.
“The god of hunters must be with you, just like he was with your father,” said Alaba. “I see you did very well.”
“We thank the gods,” I said. “You look well,” I said.
“Excellent timing. I hear the soldiers from Ode have already arrived,” said Alaba. “Soon they’ll come looking for bush meat.”
“We… I was lucky today, sir; rabbits, squirrels, and a snake.”
“Snake? What type?” asked Alaba. He sounded like someone told him his birthday was coming early.
I smiled for the first time since we saw the prince. “Yes, sir, a cobra.”
“Oyirian smoke!” Alaba’s eyes twinkled. “The healer will be thrilled. She has to rely more and more on herbs and animal extracts for her medications.” His eyes darted around. He leaned forward and lowered his eyes. “Until magic comes back, she can’t cure more serious illnesses.”
Alaba took the bag from me, opened it, and whistled. “This is the biggest cobra I’ve ever seen.” He dropped the snake in a basket on its own and the other animals into another basket. He extracted a money bag from his wrapper, counted out some coins, and gave them to me.
My head jerked up. It was more than what we agreed on.
“It’s for the venom,” said Alaba.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Kemi?” said Alaba. He now looked his age. “I hope you are not taking part in the harvest today?”
“No, sir. Next year will be my first time.”
Alaba nodded. He looked around, took a deep breath, and stepped closer. He placed his hands on my bow, tapped the string, and pretended to fiddle with it.
“Nuju, be very careful,” whispered Alaba. “There are rumors you saw a shifter in the forest. People in the community are talking of magic. Same kinds of things people said about your father. Next time, keep such information to yourself.”
“No, I—”
Alaba raised his hands. “I don’t want to know. After the harvest today, come and see me. I’ll tell you more about your father.” Alaba drew back. “The knot is fine,” he said in a loud voice for the benefit of anybody listening in on us. “Get me more of that bush meat, will you? And say hello to your mother for me.”
“I will, sir.” I put the money away in my hunting bag. “Come on, Kemi, let’s go.” I walked ahead of Kemi. Instead of getting answers, more questions were coming up. Dotan will get us in trouble with his big mouth. What information does Alaba have about Baba?
“Nuju, slow down, you’re walking too fast!”
I stopped, and she caught up.
“What was wrong with your bow?” asked Kemi.
She didn’t hear Alaba. I must keep it that way. “Nothing, I think he thought the knot was coming off.”
“Coming off?” Kemi shrugged.
“Let’s go find you a mirror,” I said.
A smile tugged the corners of Kemi’s lips. “Yes, we now have money!”
Chapter Eighteen
My stomach rumbled; we hadn’t eaten all day. Mama made okra soup. Kemi was engrossed with her mirror and didn’t want to eat. At first, she looked at her face, complaining of every part. Now she’d settled into directing sunlight on people’s faces with her mirror.
“Kemi!” said Mama. “Put that mirror down and come and eat right now.”
Kemi nodded and continued to play with the mirror. “Children of today don’t listen to their elders,” said Mama, shaking her head.
“Don’t worry,” said Dotan. “You can dish out her food. I’ll eat hers once I’m done with mine. Who knows? Those witches might pick me, and I’ll need all the food I can get for the journey to Ode.”
Mama waved her hand twice over her head and snapped her fingers once. “Don’t talk like that!” Her tone was sharp. “You’ll bring bad luck upon yourself.”
I carved out a chunk of yam fufu and molded it into round balls and dipped it into the okra soup. I popped it in my mouth and chewed.
“Nuju, you’re supposed to swallow it whole, not chew it,” said Dotan.
Swallowing without chewing was always tricky for me. I ignored Dotan and ate my food.
I’d eaten Mama’s food all my life, and it always remained delicious. If she were only as charming, life would have been amazing.
Dotan blocked his face with his left hand. “Kemi! You better stop it, or I’ll come and knock out one of your teeth. I mean it this time.” He continued to eat with his right hand; light reflected off his left palm from Kemi’s mirror.
Kemi giggled. “You’ve been saying that for ages.”
With my stomach satisfied, my worries roared back. What Alaba said, the bird with a woman’s face, the soldiers. What was Alaba going to tell me about Baba? Then there was the talk of magic. Only the king’s witches may practice magic. Linking me to magic would, for sure, get me into trouble.
The sound of the elephant tusk trumpet just outside our door interrupted my thoughts. The house went quiet. Everyone focused on what the town crier was saying, even though we all could recite it by heart.
“The gods need your children!” the town crier bellowed. “Come one, come all. Come to the village square. The worthy ones will be selected to serve in the temple. It is a blessing to your family when your child is selected to serve.”
“Nuju, Dotan, get ready! You too, Kemi,” commanded Mama. “We have to leave soon.”
“It’s that time of the year again,” said Dotan. “My least exciting time of the year. By this time tomorrow, it will all seem like a bad dream, and we’ll be back to our routine.” He went over to his section of the hut and put on his shoes.
Light flashed in my eyes. I turned my head. “Kemi, cut it out, or…”
Kemi giggled. “Or what?”
I laughed and stretched my hand towards my bow. “Or I’ll put an arrow in you.”
Mama’s eyes fell on me. If looks could kill… She looked away and busied herself with the food.
“Ha, you think you’re the only one that knows how to handle a bow and arrow?”
Eyes on Kemi, I jerked my head toward Mama and tapped my finger on my lips. I didn’t want Mama to know that I took her into the forest. Dung beetle, this girl will get me in trouble. I didn’t want to give Mama a valid reason to yell at me.
Kemi, at last, put the mirror down. “All right, I will eat now.”
Mama hissed. “Be quick about it. We don’t have all day.”
I’d taken off my boots to rest my feet after we got in. Now I sat on my mat and pulled them back on. Mama sat beside me. I sensed trouble.
“Today at the market,” said Mama in a low voice, “I heard people talking about you seeing a shifter in the forest. Why do you spread such rumors? Haven’t you caused enough problems for the family already?”
“I told no one,” I whispered back. ”It was Dotan that asked Mamalawo about it during tales by moonlight.”
Mama hissed. “Now you’re dragging Dotan into this?”
“No whispering,” yelled Kemi through a mouth full of food. “We don’t keep secrets in this family.”
Dotan got up, one shoe in hand. “What are you two talking about?”
Mama struggled to her feet and pointed at Dotan. “We are talking about you! I was in the market
today, and people were acting funny towards me. Why? I’ll tell you why. They said that Dotan said he and his sister saw a bird with a human face in the forest. How did the news get out? And how come nobody told me?”
Mama surprised me. She never chewed out Dotan. This must be serious.
Mama wagged a finger at Dotan. “Hmm?”
“Wait, wait,” said Dotan. “Mamalawo is the custodian of the gods… and I felt she was the best person to ask—”
“Well, haven’t you heard of asking in private?” asked Mama, cutting him off.
“I thought Nuju would ask…” said Dotan.
I fixed my eyes on Dotan. “Things of that nature you ask in private.”
Mama wiped her face with her palm, shaking her head. She glanced at me, then Dotan and Kemi. “Now there’s talk of magic.”
A shiver ran down my spine. Exactly what Alaba had said.
Chapter Nineteen
“I’ll be outside waiting,” Dotan said and headed for the door.
Mama touched my hair and I flinched, surprised by her touch. It had been a long time since she last did that.
Mama ran her fingers through my hair. “Relax, I’m not fixing it, it looks good.” She turned her attention to Kemi.
I got up before she changed her mind and decided that I needed work done on my hair. The pain when Mama did my hair as a child rushed to my mind. I would suck in my breath and hold it, trying to find a comfortable spot. By the time she was done plaiting or braiding, I would have stomach cramps from squeezing my insides to contain the pain.
Then I thought it was torture Mama was inflicting on me for her enjoyment. But I found out at school it was the same for every little black girl with curly hair.
“Good, Kemi, you’re done eating. Come over here,” said Mama.
Kemi shuffled over; she didn’t want pain, either.
Mama pulled Kemi’s braids back in a ponytail and held them together with a single long piece of cowhide.
“Hair pain is a rite of passage,” said Mama. “I went through it, my mother went through it.” She glanced at me. “Your own daughters will go through it, too.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. Daughters? That would be in another life. She should better count on Kemi for that. Boys were not on my agenda. Mama was in an exceptionally good mood; was it because of the harvest?
“Ouch!” yelled Kemi.
“Shut up,” said Mama.
I brought the subject back to hair. “Kemi’s hair looks beautiful.”
“Ouch, you’re pulling too hard,” said Kemi.
“Hush,” said Mama.
A few minutes later, Mama had finished Kemi’s hair, and the four of us left for the town square. This was the closest we’d been as a family for a long time. Once outside, I broke out in a sweat. The heat, the anxiety of what could happen to me, Dotan, or any other unlucky soul selected.
We passed other parents. Guardians and children headed for the town square with the adults trying to keep everyone organized. There were children everywhere.
Several women with tears rolling down their cheeks dragged their children to the square. Nothing compared to a mother’s love for her child. I wondered if the children of the people of Ode, the Oloyes, nobles, in their palaces and beautiful homes were subjected to this.
The two carts Kemi and I saw earlier were baled close by in the village square. A few of the soldiers sat on their horses, bored but monitoring the crowd. I recognized the scar-faced man, Bala, but the prince was not among them. The rest of the soldiers were placed in strategic positions to watch the village square. It occurred to me that the same thing must be going on in other communities like Lorin, Ikeja, Surulere, and others; where King Kenzi was taking children for the harvest.
The whole town was out in the square. I saw the butcher and some other sellers I see in the market. It was time. Children left their parents and headed towards the middle of the square to line up.
My stomach tightened and squeezed everything inside. I felt a sudden urge to pee. I took a few deep breaths, talking myself down, and the urge went away.
“The gods will be with you two,” said Mama in a shaky voice as she started a group hug.
Mama and Kemi stood by the side, and Dotan and I went to join the line. The priestesses that came with the entourage would soon come out from the cart and the selection would begin. Dotan was a few rows behind me. He raised his hand, smiled, and waved.
We’d been there for a few minutes when the door to one of the carts opened and a woman emerged. She wore a white buba that went all the way to her ankle. She’d marked her face with white lines and white smudges all over her face. On her hair was a scarf adorned with feathers and skins of lizards and snakes.
The head priestess. She looked around, taking in the crowd, then raised her hand. The noise lowered as people saw her. Only the sound of birds, crows, and crying babies punctuated the silence.
“Crops have failed for the past few years,” said the priestess.
She spoke in the common tongue, which most people understood, with a deep Ode accent, but I could understand her.
“The king’s Babalawo has spoken to the gods, and this is their demand, not the king's demand. Once I’m done speaking, my helpers under the influence of the spirits will make the selections. Do not be afraid. It is for the good of the kingdom.”
Chapter Twenty
I heard a blood-curdling cry, and four priestesses jumped down from the cart and fanned out into the crowd of children. I couldn’t see them all, so I focused on the one that came into my row. She was dressed like the others. Her hair was ivory white with oval red ornaments that looked like the seeds of the Udala fruit attached to different strands. Her face was painted in stripes of white and yellow.
Like the first priestess, she wore a white buba that reached her ankles. Small bones of animals and little bells attached to a belt around her waist clinked and clanked with each step she took. Pelts of snakeskin hung down her belt like raffia leaves. Round beads attached to her ankle band jingled as she moved. In her hand was a crooked, thin stick about a foot long, which she waved in the air with no care in the world.
The woman raised her head and sniffed. “I can, I can smell the child needed by our masters above.” She spun around and ran as if pursued by wild dogs. Stopped, veered, and ran off in the opposite direction. The priestess came close to a boy and smelled him like a pig digging about in the rubbish dump for something delectable. Then she took off and ran to the first row of quivering and whimpering children, swapping positions with the priestess who was already there.
I glanced around, and my eyes settled on the face of a girl a few feet from me; the fear I felt was magnified on her face. Her lips quivered, nostrils flared. Her expression reminded me of what I’d seen many times in the eyes of prey before my arrow hit them. Today I was the prey, and the priestess and King Kenzi, the hunters.
The priestess stopped in front of me, and my wandering thoughts screeched to a halt. I’d hoped to be selected, but my heart hammered in my chest like a bird caught in a hunter’s net looking for an escape route. My knees shook so much I expected my body to slide to the ground at any moment. The priestess approached me and sniffed. She leaned closer, and I jerked back. She smelled like a dead decomposing rat.
Only the whites of her eyes were visible. She shook like a leaf in a fierce storm, foam flew from her open mouth. Just as she had started, she stopped and hopped away. I let out a huge breath.
She would come back and repeat this whole process again. Will my heart take it? Now I understood better what Dotan was talking about earlier when we were in the forest hunting. What did he say again? He died a thousand deaths each time the priestess came close to him?
A collective gasp from behind and I knew they had picked someone. My stomach tightened. “Please, not Dotan,” I said under my breath. I turned and looked. Three priestesses hopped and danced behind, obscuring who they’d selected. The crowd gasped again, and I whirled around.
“Remove her from the ceremony,” a voice thundered.
I turned and looked; it was Bala on his horse. “The gods do not need handicapped children.”
The girl’s parents rushed into the square and carried her off. The relief on their faces was evident.
Bala studied the crowd, then kicked his horse and walked close to the families, his eyes searching the crowd. He seemed to find what he was looking for and rode to where Mama and Kemi stood. He surveyed the spectators, then his eyes drifted to Kemi. His eyes flickered. He must have recognized her.
He pointed at Kemi. “You! Replace the sick girl.”
I gaped and shook my head. “No, it can’t be Kemi.” My voice was a whisper.
Mama shielded Kemi and dragged her behind her. “She can’t join, she’s only twelve!” yelled Mama.
“If she can hunt, she can serve the gods!” said Bala.
“She’s…she’s, not a hunter!” Mama fell on her knees. Her anguished cry reverberated around the square. “She’s not a hunter.”
“Yes, she is,” said Bala. “I saw her this morning with two squirrels she shot herself. Soldier! Take her in.”
A soldier walked towards Kemi and marched her to the position where the fitting girl had been removed.
My mind turned numb. Mama’s words echoed in my head. Kemi, eyes on the ground, came and stood in front of me. It's alright, I told myself; she won’t be picked.
Another horrific scream—the signal to resume—and the priestesses were back on the hunt again.
The priestess that had been with the fallen girl was now in front of Kemi. She hopped from one leg to the other, chanting incantations. She stopped bouncing and swung her neck from side to side. I prayed to the gods; she should snap her neck with all that swinging.
My pulse raced faster as the priestess swung her neck. The pounding of my heart was like a roar inside my head.
The Selection Page 6
