Daughters of Nri

by Reni K Amayo

  ‘We could make a replica of the key? And when he hands it to you, you drop the new one?’ Madi added.

  ‘A replica? Now you’re really reaching. How will we make a replica of that jewelled pendant? With what metal? What time? Do you know how to weld? Do you have some spare jewels lying around? Because I certainly do not?’ Naala retorted. Her face felt warm and her throat tight. Enwe was her only piece of home and the thought of losing yet another piece of herself ate away at her soul. Tell him about the other way. ‘No, just no,’ Naala said finally. ‘It won’t work.’

  ‘Because you don’t want it to. You don’t even want it to work because of that stupid monkey? Are you seriously placing that animal before hundreds, maybe even thousands, of lives?’

  ‘I—’ Naala started. She didn’t know what to say. He was wrong, she knew he was wrong. That’s not how she felt at all, except that, for a brief moment, it was. She didn’t want to place Enwe in unnecessary danger; she didn’t want him anywhere near the general.

  ‘Why did you even come here? You don’t care about Emeka; you don’t care about me. I don’t even think you cared about your village. If you did, this wouldn’t even be a question.’

  ‘Don’t you dare bring up my village,’ Naala replied darkly, as thick rage swirled within her heart, her fists tightened into balls, and her jaw stiffened.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Madi said. ‘Maybe we should just leave … try and find the group again.’ He was trying to convince himself, more than anything.

  Naala took a long deep breath, before snapping her fingers twice. In a matter of moments Enwe swooshed down in a ball of grey fur. He snatched the spiked necklace from Madi’s neck. The little monkey scurried off as quickly as he came, hidden by the green leaves waving in the breeze.

  ‘It can work,’ Naala said wearily, her eyes gazing over to the last spot that she had seen the joyous procession, just before it curved around the side of the large mountain.

  Naala released a shrill whistle. Madi’s necklace suddenly fell out of the sky, before landing with a clang in Naala’s hands. Enwe leapt onto her shoulder with his tail curling affectionately around her neck as she raised her right hand to rub his back.

  ‘Yes, I can see …’ Madi eventually replied, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought. ‘So you were the one that stole my mangos,’ he added, as Naala tried and failed to control the wicked smile spreading across her face.

  ‘On what occasion?’ she replied smugly.

  ‘I knew it!’ Madi replied, congratulating himself with a loud clap.

  ‘Okay, okay! We can do this, so let’s … just do it,’ Naala said, as her heart quickened. She dropped her hand away from Enwe’s warm soft fur and tapped his tail before he leapt away and melted into the trees.

  ‘He will be fine,’ Madi said.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, as she handed over his heavy necklace.

  ‘So what should we do? Catch up with the procession again, get close to the general and then wait for a big distracting event—so you can snap or whistle? You know, do the thing that will draw that thieving monkey.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Naala replied, before sprinting towards the procession.

  THE PROCESSION CAME to a sudden stop. The people had spent a large part of the morning hiking up the towering mountain, and yet the peak still loomed above them, hidden in the distant clouds.

  Unlike the other, more knowledgeable, people in the crowd, Naala and Madi had not brought any snacks. Neither one of them had anticipated that they would be spending hours following after the Eze and those privileged enough to dance before him.

  Naala was mortified. No matter how hard she tried, she could not will her stomach to stop its awful gurgling. Eventually she settled for simply crossing her hands around it, trying to muffle the increasingly embarrassing sounds. Madi suddenly gave her a slight nudge.

  ‘I know, I know. I’m just hungry, okay?’ she hissed defensively. His eyes widened expressively before signalling towards the centre of a slowly forming huddle. Naala followed his gaze and found the Eze at the centre of it, surrounded by eager-looking spectators, including the head general of his army. Naala blinked hard as the gold pendent shot a reflected sunbeam into her eyes.

  ‘So we have arrived,’ the Eze boomed to the crowd. ‘To the same trail that I came to years ago, when the world had entered a deadly turmoil and needed someone to stand up.’ His words carried over the wind and were punctuated by the sounds of the deep drums. Naala glanced at Madi, who flashed a look back at her. Now? she thought nervously. Any plan that they had formed earlier now seemed too open, too risky, and too dangerous. Naala watched the golden pendant twinkle as the sun beat down on the general’s chest. The air tasted dry and cold, not rich and vibrant like the air closer to ground, closer to the trees and beautiful flowers. High up the mountain, Naala felt chilled and afraid.

  ‘Let this be a lesson to you. Justice will always prevail. The true winners, the true victors, they all serve justice, and justice is why we prevailed!’

  Click – click.

  The sound of Naala snapping her fingers together was covered by the loud applause. Naala held her breath in anticipation when she saw Enwe swiftly swooping down towards the head general.

  Naala watched, frozen. She had not decided to click her fingers. She had not yet made that decision in her head, and yet her body had acted. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, as her little friend scrambled up to the general’s neck, dodging each and every one of his blows before yanking the necklace off. Just as Enwe turned to leap away, a loud frightening sound exploded through the air, and Enwe puffed into grey ash right before Naala’s eyes. Slow, misty fragments of silver dust floated in the air. Enwe, Naala’s little friend, was gone, and the necklace, imbedded with the key that she had made him steal, lay on the dark ground. The general moved to pick it up, just as a swarm of men, his platoon, gathered around him. All of them stood in the warriors’ stance, and scanned the crowd with squinted serious eyes.

  Naala’s heart skipped a beat and her mouth suddenly went dry. Not only because Enwe had been destroyed right before her eyes, not because they had failed to retrieve the key, but because among the soldiers stood a man with a large scar across his face. The same man who had stood over her grandmother during the massacre. The same man with bright green eyes who had looked at her squarely that day, and was looking at her now, with that same expression of recognition.

  ‘We have to go,’ Naala murmured, as she backed away, still facing the soldier, whilst tugging discreetly at Madi.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good—’ Madi started, as he looked cautiously at the people around him. Now was not the time to draw attention to themselves by attempting to escape. A crime had just been committed and running away would only expose them as the perpetrators.

  Naala did not hear a single word of what he said. Instead her heart seized as the soldier took a step towards her.

  ‘No, we have to go now,’ Naala said, before turning and bolting out of the procession. Madi gasped; he had no choice but to follow her. They barged through the crowd of confused elites. The two of them, no longer bothered to uphold any pretence of decorum, moved with a raw, unbridled quest for survival.

  ‘Hey! Hey!’ a voice yelled, as they broke free from the crowd, picking up speed as they dashed down the slope of the mountain.

  Naala heard whooshing sounds around her.

  ‘Arrows! No-no-no-no,’ Madi yelled in fright. Naala turned back to check if he was okay, but instead she got swept into a terrifying scene. Behind Madi, eight large men with bulging muscles and weapons at hand were pursuing them. Naala had imagined that she and Madi had put a suitable distance between themselves and the soldiers. She was wrong. They were catching up at an incredible pace, like cheetahs plummeting towards injured prey.

  Naala’s heart leapt out of her throat, and abandoned her body entirely.

  A strange, yet familiar, sensation overtook her body. A deep cold shook her to her core. Naa
la wanted to scream, but the earth was breaking away faster than she could react. The ground dropped from under her, and she found herself completely lost. The black came for her once again, and Naala succumbed to it before she could breathe, let alone think.

  MEEKULU’S CAVE

  CITY OF NRI

  ‘HURRY UP, CHILD!’ Meekulu called from several cubits ahead of Sinai, as she traversed up the hillside. The hills around were patched with varying shades of green, from a deep dark seaweed colour to a bright lime. The old woman’s waxed braids dragged weightlessly on the cushioned ground, as her small body bounced forward.

  ‘How are you so fast?’ Sinai breathed heavily. ‘You’re at least three … maybe even four times my age,’ she added in a quiet breathless murmur.

  ‘Much more than that, dear,’ Meekulu cried out.

  ‘Huh … really? Good ears too, fascinating,’ Sinai wheezed, her chest tightening with fatigue. ‘One moment,’ she mouthed wordlessly, as she bent over with her hands clasped around her knees. Sinai was not used to climbing up and down so many steep hills. ‘Sorry … I must still be … oh dear … recovering … from the … fall.’

  Meekulu replied with a loud snort.

  ‘No, my dear; you are just lazy and unfit. I guess one can hardly blame you given that you’ve spent the better part of your life lounging and partying. But now hurry up, girl—we are almost there,’ Meekulu said as she climbed further.

  Sinai looked up in pain as the old woman walked through the gathering mist, remnants of the morning’s heavy rainfall now slowly drying and disappearing back into the heavens.

  Sinai forced herself to carry on and place one foot in front of the other, though try as she may, she couldn’t stop her back from hunching in defeat. It was only when she began to hear a loud gushing noise that she lifted her heavy head to see a magnificent waterfall.

  ‘Wow,’ she sighed, once she had taken a moment to restore her lost breath. Her chest was sore, her legs ached, and her stomach throbbed with a dull cramp, but for that one moment, she didn’t think of any of that. All she could take in was the beautiful scene, the frothy white water falling beautifully over the lush green vegetation. The sky looked sweeter and the air was fresh.

  ‘Meekulu, this is just—wow!’ Sinai added, as Meekulu nodded in agreement, a wide knowing smile crossing over her face.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, as she marched towards the waterfall with Sinai following wordlessly.

  THAT MORNING, Ozi had crashed unceremoniously into her room with two invitations clamped in her beak, one from Meekulu and the other from Obi Ife.

  Sinai had shuddered at the thought of interacting with Obi Ife again. She had immediately discarded the parchment, without even reading it. While he certainly was not the worst man amongst the Obis, he was still stifling, overbearing, and entitled. Now that she was no longer tasked with spying on the Eze, she could rid herself of acquaintances like Obi Ife and focus on far more important matters.

  Meekulu’s message had been short and brief:

  Meet me at the palace entrance. Bring comfortable slippers.

  Given their previous conversation, whatever Meekulu had planned for the day was likely to help Sinai figure out what exactly she needed to do to help the Mother.

  Sinai had clung on to that thought as she pushed her aching heavy legs over the ground. Mist from the splashing waterfall coated Sinai’s face and the warm ripples swept her ankles as Meekulu led them through the shallow bay and closer to the large waterfall.

  Sinai clambered across the round rocks and boulders. She looked up momentarily, only to find Meekulu passing through a thin gap in the waterfall. Sinai’s eyes widened as the old woman disappeared behind the frothy water. Without stopping to think, Sinai scrambled after Meekulu and followed her through the torrents.

  Sinai had expected the water to beat heavily against her head and back, but instead it caressed her breezily, like a flurry of feathers. She wiped her eyes, but, just as she did, trickles of water from her soaked hair drizzled down her face. Sinai wore her hair up, with golden clasps clutching sections of her ponytail. She sighed at the thought of having to detangle her black moss-like hair once she got back home.

  Sinai found that she was in a hidden cove. The dark wet sand looked smooth and untouched, and the rocky walls that surrounded her stood strong and imposing. Sinai turned to look back. She could no longer see the rocky boulders and distant green hills that she had come from; instead, she was met with a bright, wide, frothy wall of water.

  Meekulu strode further into the cave with Sinai following. As they moved away from the bright waterfall, they slowly descended into darkness. Sinai took a sharp breath when she could no longer see nor feel for Meekulu. She would have called out her name, if she wasn’t so overcome with fright. Sinai felt lost and alone, and she didn’t like it at all.

  Fortunately she could still hear Meekulu’s movement as she shuffled around with what seemed like various strange items. Without warning, a large, bright yellow ọkụ flame lit up the cave and Sinai’s eyes slowly adjusted to it.

  ‘This is where I keep all my treasures,’ Meekulu explained.

  ‘Oh …’ Sinai replied, as she looked around. ‘I … I don’t see anything.’ She was confused; all she saw were grey rocky walls and the bare sandy floor.

  ‘Well, I couldn’t make it that easy for prying eyes!’ Meekulu cackled, before reaching out her wrinkled hands and tugging at the wall. To Sinai’s surprise, the rock creased as easily as dried leaves, revealing a wide gap opening.

  Sinai stepped closer and inspected the peculiar wall. She quickly realised that it was not a wall at all. It was nothing more than a stiff thin cloth, made to look like hard rock in the dim light.

  ‘Mmm, clever,’ Sinai murmured, as Meekulu strolled into the large crevice that was lined with trinket-filled shelves. The old woman frowned momentarily as Sinai raised a foot to enter the room.

  ‘Wait! The wall is not the only protection that I have set up. Before you cross into this room, you need to focus your mind. It can be on anything at all, an object, a person, but whatever it is, it must have the power to keep your attention completely for as long as you are inside this room,’ Meekulu warned.

  Sinai nodded. Focus, focus … on what? Sinai thought desperately. The Mother’s crystal!

  Sinai thought hard about the emerald crystal as she stepped into the room: its rigid—no smooth—exterior; the exchange with the Mother and the gods and goddesses that—that—.

  Sinai’s mind went pitch-black. Suddenly a sweet song, the most beautiful song in the world, pierced cleanly through her thoughts. Her mouth watered and her heart leapt into her throat. Sinai took a step back and turned towards her left. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was all that she could think of. Just a few steps ahead of her stood a smooth marble statue, propped against the wall.

  Sinai hurried towards the marble statue. It stood large, almost the size of Sinai herself. As she drew closer, she could see that it was a replica of a strange being. The marble creature’s hair was braided in long single plaits, its chest was bare and plump, and, instead of legs, the creature stood on a long thick tail, similar to that of a fish’s.

  The statue was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful thing that Sinai had ever seen. It filled her with endless promises and dreams. Silent whispers echoed through the cave, and suddenly Sinai knew that she had to follow the statue. If she did, Sinai would be able to drink the purest, coldest, most satisfying water; crystallised water made for the gods themselves. Sinai brought her hand to her throat; she hadn’t realised how thirsty she was. Her throat felt dry and sandy. She was dying from thirst. She had to follow the statue.

  ‘Sinaikuku!’ a voice from nowhere rang in her head, as she felt a sharp smack against her cheek. Sinai blinked before taking a deep ragged breath, as though she had just broken to the surface of a deep ocean. She looked down at Meekulu who fought hard to keep hold of Sinai’s gaze.

  ‘Hey! Focus on me! Re
sist! Resist! It’s not real!’ Meekulu exclaimed, as the haze lifted from Sinai’s mind. Sinai let Meekulu nudge her away from the statue as a chill trembled through her body.

  ‘What was that?’ Sinai finally said.

  ‘That, my dear, is a mami wata, one of the spirits of the water,’ Meekulu replied.

  ‘A mami wata? Didn’t they perish when the Mother died?’ Sinai interjected, as she shook off the strange feeling that her mind was not her own.

  ‘They did not die; they changed. Their spirits marbleised into these rock statues. Those spirits, whilst trapped and weakened, are still very much alive, something that I’m guessing you can now attest to,’ Meekulu said, as she inspected Sinai carefully. ‘I told you to focus, girl. If you had not broken out of that trance, you would have sat at the feet of the statue for days, unable to move, or talk. Only when you died of hunger and thirst would you have been able to escape.’

  ‘I did—I thought I was … focusing,’ Sinai replied.

  ‘Hmph,’ Meekulu said. ‘Well, let’s get going.’

  This time Meekulu made Sinai step into the room first. Once Sinai had entered, the old woman followed, letting the material fall and form, once again, a makeshift wall.

  Sinai blinked wordlessly as she entered what appeared to be a large cave. She had never seen anything like it. Rock stalactites dripped from the ceiling, basking in the glow of the numerous balls of gleaming ọkụ light scattered across the room. The ọkụ balls appeared to be simple at first glance, but they were in fact made of a series of small delicate lines.

  ‘Nsibidi?’ Sinai gasped, whilst Meekulu nodded approvingly.

  ‘Yes, they are prayers of sorts,’ the old woman said.

  Sinai had seen many breathtaking ọkụ formations, but she had never seen this level of detail in the fiery balls. They hung weightlessly in the air, beautiful marks of pure genius.

  The walls were lined with endless rows of shelves, each stacked with strange artefacts, but Sinai was preoccupied with the most extravagant of them all. In the centre of the cave, a stream of silent silvery water fell out of the ceiling and formed a hollow circle as tall and wide as she was. The water streamed down in a straight line and then followed the curve of a circle before travelling back up to somewhere Sinai could not see.