When Gods Bleed

by Njedeh Anthony

  “I respect your decision my son. You know the way out and don't bother coming back.”

  “Ifeanyi, you are not serious.”

  “Yes, Mother, he is serious and I, too, am serious about my decision.”

  Odagwe bent to the height of his brother. “Come with me. They even take children of only seven years. The way we are, we would make it through their training in a year. Forget what is in your heart; think with your head. In every way, you are a man and it’s time to let the world know. There is no future here for us here.”

  “Odagwe, you are stupid. You want to take my son away.”

  Nneka was silenced by a signal from her husband's fingers; nevertheless she grabbed her son close to her.

  “My brother, follow me. Let us create a pathway for our destination. Tears come and go, but the experience is something we can't buy, even if we possessed everything we touched. I know you are younger than I am, but there is nobody I trust to be at my back more than you, and nothing in this world or out of it will ever touch you as long as I live. Come with me. The general also vouched for you.”

  Obi left his mother’s arms and went to his brother. His mother's mouth was open in astonishment; his father's face was indifferent. He shook his brother with two hands, telling him goodbye.

  “Don’t make me beg, Obi. I will never forgive you if you don’t follow me.”

  “I can’t come with you, Odagwe.” Obi stepped back toward Ifeanyi.

  “Please come with me,” Odagwe said, his gaze intent on his brother.

  Obi said nothing but remained still by his mother. Odagwe grinned and walked away, his mother chasing after him to change his mind, but it was to no avail.

  Chapter 3

  With time, the kingdom of Didasu's idealism was transformed imperceptibly to something nobody could comprehend.

  It started with the encroachment of the lighter-skinned Nomads, who felt their cattle were best raised within that region. These Arabians provided an excellent breed of horses, their women's faces were covered and they were relentless about introducing their philosophy of life and religion to everyone. Then came the white men with their straight hair and narrow noses. When they first arrived, everyone in the kingdom thought the gods sent them direct from heaven. But after they sweated, bled, ate and had sex like the black man, the people’s impression changed.

  They kept coming with gifts that meant nothing to them compared to what they received in exchange. They were not all from the same land. Their religion was not the same, but they claimed to have the same god. They did not speak the same language and they had intense hatred for each other. They brought horses, copper and some luxury items like salt to trade for gold, cloth, ivory, beads, bronze carvings and even slaves.

  People sold their land, slaves and heritage for salt. They used the salt to heal their wounds, wash their clothes, preserve and cook their food, and dry animal skins used as clothes and footwear. The only problem was the kingdom of Didasu did not allow the trading of slaves to men outside the kingdom.

  The white men often attacked small villages in the outskirts of kingdoms and exported the people as slaves. They preferred the extremely strong nature of the Negroes in Didasu Kingdom, so they paid criminals large amounts to capture anyone they found. Some chiefs had private dealings with them.

  *

  Obi was twenty years old when his mother died, not long after her husband's funeral. Ifeanyi died from snakebite when he was in the bushes. His son tried to suck out the poison, but it spread too quickly into his body. It took them about two weeks before his spirit was let out of his body. In this time, every man who was a friend or a relation to the deceased pays their respect. Very few men were present for the interment of the Ikaza because their presence would have been unforgivable to their superior. Most men came out of gratitude for services Ifeanyi had done for them. He was recognized for making the antidotes for any kind of poison, which happened to be his major means of taking care of his family and increasing his land. For this reason, most people were surprised he died from snakebite. Everybody expected Odagwe, the general of Ozuoba, to be present, but he did not come. The chief of Alloida, Gbangba, came out for every man to see that he was present for the funeral of his friend’s father.

  Gbangba was a feared man for his heartless missions. When he was the general, his predecessor, Chief Hejieto, tried many times to assassinate him but to no avail. His predecessor died with a spear in his heart on a sunny day. The general headed the investigation of the mysterious death of their chief. Everyone knew Gbangba did it, but no one ever uttered a word except the dead man's wives, who were screaming all over the market place that the general had killed their husband. People pretended they didn't hear anything. A few elders challenged the general; they seemed to die of old age afterward. Only one Omee, named Vacoura, vehemently challenged Gbangba's investigation and he was made general when Gbangba became chief.

  As chief, Gbangba lived under constant threat from the outsiders, his Omees, his wives, and even his children. Attempts on his life were routine; his enemies were more than the men in his province. He was a true Omee to the core. His people feared him, yet they respected him because he expanded their province by encroaching into other chiefs’ lands and annihilating the tribes. They had reported the matter to the King many times, but Gbangba had a way of expanding his taxes as he expanded his land. The King allowed Chief Nonso of Iyatu to go to war with him because the man was insistent. The battle ended in a flawless victory—Iyatu’s province no longer existed and the land was used to form a greater Alloida.

  Gbangba's servants always picked the coquettes he slept with, to quench his insatiable sexual appetite after his wives and concubines. His servant had been telling him of a girl whose skin was smooth as the fur of a lion, whose smile opened up the heavens and whose beauty was unmatched.

  During a feast celebrating the birth of his son a few months before the funeral of Obi’s father, Gbangba ordered his servants to bring the girl to his presence. When she arrived, he was positive she was a goddess. The closer she got to his private chambers the faster his heart beat. She bowed with flawless humility. He studied the female and noticed a combined asset of lust and purity.

  “Please rise. It is I who should respect your presence.” He snapped his fingers and everyone in the room left, closing the door behind them. “Why have I not been aware of your existence till now?”

  “Your Grace, my existence is not worth a space in the midst of your knowledge.”

  “Nonsense. My servants underestimated your beauty. What is your name and who is your father?” As he spoke, he tried to keep his distance, but the voluptuous animal had a power over him that made him reach for her bosoms.

  The coquette pushed him away in a highly seductive manner and started walking around the room asking, “What is your desire?”

  “My desire is you in my bed.”

  “Patience, Gbangba, or am I too little to call you that?”

  “I am whatever you want me to be. Now come to me.”

  “No rush,” she said, smiling and playing with the palm wine keg on the table resting on the ivory tusk. “You realize it will be highly indecent for me to spread my legs for you to enter me this soon.”

  “What you want I will provide. Even if you want to belong to me, then I am yours. Any dowry settlement I will pay, but now I want both of us to join as one.”

  She poured palm wine from the chief’s table into a calabash and knelt in front of him.

  “I hope I am worthy to offer my Chief palm wine to drink.”

  “If I want to be served palm wine, I would snap my fingers and have over twenty servants waiting to serve me. Now I want to enter inside you.”

  “A tortoise knows it will take him a long time to get to his destination, but it still moves. Now please drink the wine I offer you and soften my heart.”

  Gbangba got up and paced around the room. “Women! You are all the same. You prefer to be acted on with intensity.”<
br />
  “How do you expect me to let you enter me when you refuse to drink the wine I offer you from your calabash?”

  “Why don't you drink and offer me the rest?”

  “Are you trying to imply that I poisoned the wine?”

  “Definitely not, but our people have a saying that the woman spices the path of a man, so please help yourself.”

  “If that is your desire, so shall it be.” She took the calabash in one hand and her other hand delved into her braids, where she took out some sharp pins from her hair and threw them at the chief.

  Gbangba succeeded in deflecting the first set of pins, but she kept throwing more at him until one finally entered his eye. As he pulled the pin from his eye, there was blood everywhere and he found it hard to see. The Wovamee dipped her hand into her miniature wrapper around her waist and brought out a jagged edged knife. She jumped on the table and dived at the chief. Gbangba could not see; the blood had covered his second eye. As she landed on him, she drove the knife into his shoulder with a powerful thrust. She missed her aim for his heart because the chief swayed. He wanted to scream, but what example would he give to his men, allowing them think the great Gbangba could not take care of a Wovamee.

  She pulled the knife from his shoulder like a tigress. With a greater force, she aimed for his heart with no intention to miss this time. He used his hands as a blockade. The knife passed through his hands, but did not get to his heart. He held her wrist with the knife still inside his hand. She punched him hard continuously with her other hand, but he did not let go. As he rose to his feet, he got hold of her other hand. She kicked him, but it seemed to have no effect on him. She started giving him head-butts until he released the grip and staggered back.

  The Wovamee broke out one of the tusks from the legs of the table and ran toward Gbangba. The chief could now see the figure in a blurred manner, approaching him forcefully, but he instinctively dodged her, grabbed her by the neck and twisted it. He continued squeezing her neck until he was positive she was dead, then he opened the door to his chambers and fainted.

  His servants, on seeing him, went to inform the Omees. These men then sent the message to the general who sent for the chief’s Tikpapa. The general got to the chief’s home about the same time as the Tikpapa. They saw Obi, the Ikaza's son and friend of Gbangba, dressing the chief’s wounds.

  “The pins she threw at his eyes were poisoned as well as the knife. I suspect we can still treat it before—” Obi began explaining before being interrupted.

  “If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it,” the Tikpapa said as he surveyed the invalid's wounds. “He is right. He has been poisoned, but the antidote cannot be found in these parts.”

  “You are speaking rubbish, man. All Wovamees use ugra poison that can be cured by using aniye leaves,” Obi said angrily while applying pressure to his friend's shoulder.

  “Listen, you might be the son of an Ikaza but it does not put you in a position to interfere with things higher than your level.”

  The Tikpapa removed Obi's hands and started applying a mixture from the bark of a tree on the shoulder.

  “Everyone in this room should leave except the Tikpapa,” Vacoura, the general, ordered. “Whatever you have to say with the chief lying here, you say in front of me,” Obi said. “Whatever you have to do with the chief here, you do it in front of me, because I am not going anywhere.”

  “Look here young man, we are not prepared for contests, so for the last time as general of this province I am ordering you to—”

  “You are ordering me to what?” Obi interrupted. “We are wasting time. Let us send someone to get these leaves or else he will not make it—unless that is what you want.”

  “How dare you accuse us of such a crime,” the Tikpapa said.

  “If the Tikpapa said there is no cure, then there is no cure,” the general said.

  Obi ran to where Gbangba lay, used his elbow to push the Tikpapa away, and hefted the chief onto his shoulder. Before the general could reach him, he used his back to push the door open. On the other side of the door the chief’s wives were wailing and crying, while the Omees and the elders were talking amongst themselves. When they saw Obi with the chief on his shoulder, the Tikpapa on the floor, and the general trying to catch him, silence filled the room.

  “Great people of Alloida,” Obi dropped the chief on the floor gently as he spoke, “Chief Gbangba was stabbed in his shoulder and in the hand with a poisonous knife. The pin that entered his eye was also poisoned. The Tikpapa said the antidote is aniye leaves and it should be given to him before morning. Your general said I should drop the chief in the midst of his people so that everyone can witness his recovery while I go and get the leaves.”

  When he finished talking, he faced the general and Tikpapa along with every other spectator in the room.

  The General raised his head high and without looking at anyone and said, “Now that you have told them what I told you to tell them, go and get the leaves before the day is over.”

  Obi got the antidote for the poison and gave it to the chief. His convalescence took a short period but eventually Gbangba was himself again, though with only one eye—the other one was damaged beyond healing. The servant who introduced the Wovamee to the chief died mysteriously. Gbangba looked for a million excuses to kill the general, but he was good at covering his tracks and was loved by both his Omees and the elders. The Tikpapa was not so fortunate; he was killed by the general for treason. The general claimed to have killed him immediately after he told him about assassinating his beloved chief. Gbangba knew that the Tikpapa was killed to cover all the loopholes, but he really did not mind the loss. Now he had only the general to take care of.

  The burial of Obi’s father was not too ceremonial; a few commoners came and danced around his grave and some poured palm wine on it. His wife was kept in seclusion from everybody for a week, except her daughters who provided her food and anything she desired.

  Obi looked at everyone dancing and rejoicing at his father’s burial. His father told all of his children he wanted them to be happy when he died because he lived a good life and he expected them to dance vigorously. Ifeanyi raised him as an Omee, taught him about the art of physical combat, the different poisons and their antidotes, to understand the deception of man, and gave him systematic information on the laws and politics of the land.

  On more than one occasion, Nneka told Obi about his real mother, but he would always say that she was his only mother. She died immediately after she came out of seclusion at the end of the funeral. Nobody could detect what she died of, but everyone knew she went in search of her husband's soul. Nneka’s funeral was not crowded because she was a woman of lower respect. Top delegates from her province of Utagba were present. The people who came were of a younger age than she was because it was forbidden to go to the funeral of someone younger.

  The people from his mother's province were known for their loyalty to anyone who was still accepted by them. The men from Utagba gave Obi a chain made out of the teeth of lions, letting him know that he had a home at Utagba at anytime. The whole funeral was organized by Obi; he was the only son in the house and the first daughter did the cooking for everyone in the funeral, as was custom.

  His two sisters were both married and he cared deeply for them. He was positive when they left he would drown in an intense form of loneliness. Obi wished the funeral would last forever so he could feel the presence of his parents within him. When the ceremony was over and everyone had gone, his sisters stayed with him for a while.

  After they had gone back to their former lives, Obi started working on the family land. Day after day, he tilled the soil. In the evenings, he sold the antidotes for different kinds of poisons. He never left his land for anything pleasurable. Traders came to his farm because his harvest grew in a very healthy fashion. Alone at night Obi wondered about who his father was planning to arrange for him to marry; all he knew was that she was the daughter of another Ikaza named I
kpong.

  On one of those provocative sunny days a man came to his home with a haughty aura. His horses were a fine breed and he was escorted by more servants than was required. The man definitely dwelt in the realm of luxury and he was not an Omee; he did not have the beads on his hands to show his position in society. He walked through the land with a certain determination that made its owner come into view.

  “May I help you?” Obi asked politely.

  “Depends. Who owns this land?” the man said as he continued walking around the farm.

  “If you are talking to me, I suggest you stand and look me in the eye whilst you speak, or else you leave my property.”

  “I take it you are the son of the Ikaza who owns the land.”

  Obi did not say a word, but kept his eyes locked on the man.

  “I am Okonjo. Some say I am the greatest merchant who has seen this earth, but I just let them know I am an ordinary man. I have lots of things to do. I came to inspect this land they say flourishes with great crops, and I am impressed. I would like to purchase it from you.”

  “You are not the first to ask for this land, and what I told the people before you is what I am telling you now—the land is family land and it will remain that way for generations to come.”

  “You look devilishly familiar,” Okonjo said, looking intently at Obi. “By the way, I am ready to offer you more than you can imagine.”

  “Okonjo, goodbye.”

  “You have a sharp tongue for the son of an Ikaza. Listen young man, I can get this land in two ways—either we make a peaceful bargain, or you learn the price of being the son of an Ikaza.”

  “You see this land, my father and his father before him sweated and bled on this land. Before you can take it, you will have to wash this land with my blood.”

  After Obi spoke, Okonjo looked at him as though he missed something.

  “Do you really know who I am?”

  “I have never set eyes on you before, but your name I know. You are the nephew of the King-Mother.”