Comedy of Disgrace: Maidens of Iwu

By EFE RONALD CHESTERFIELD

Journey into the enigmatic village of Iwu, where the line between madness and reason blurs, a tale unfolds that dares to plunge into the depths of lunacy and resurfaces to challenge the very foundations of convention. In this dramatic and suspenseful narrative, prepare to question the boundaries of sanity, as the ordinary is transformed into the extraordinary, shaking the foundations of long-standing traditions!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: May 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490725932

EFE RONALD CHESTERFIELD

Efe Ronald Chesterfield stands as a rare gem in modern African literature, showcasing unmatched literary prowess. His exceptional skill lies in the art of using vivid imagery to convey profound thoughts, effortlessly breaking down intricate philosophical concepts into accessible ideas. What truly distinguishes Chesterfield is his remarkable talent for simplifying the complexities of life through his writing, a rarity that the literary world often lacks in these times. His work serves as an invitation to delve deep into the human experience, redefining the boundaries of contemporary African literature. Efe Ronald Chesterfield is not just an author; he is a visionary wordsmith, an architect of thought, and a literary luminary.

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

’Tis but laughs and laughs to good ears;

This piece which caws forth tyrants’ fears!

A laughing thing by all means,

By the good whereto it leans!

But, you know, kind words once begun

Incites the boor to pick his gun,

And shoot us right through the head—

So by this some may be offended!

Let it suffice then as we come

To hit cataclysmic point home,

That those who’ll hang us by this play

Mercifully may quit their fray—

When we hope they should be appeased

By those who by this will be pleased!

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

ULOJI (MADMAN)

OGONNA

MAZI MBAKWE

MAMA OGONNA (BEATRICE)

ADAORA

ADAEZE

MAZI UZO

PAPA ADAEZE

MAMA ADAEZE (UGOMA)

CHINELO

CLETUS

IKENNA

MAMA EMEKA

ANIEZE

IKE

OYINBO

UZOKA

PAPA OYINBO

OKONKWO

PHILIP

BUCHI

EBERE

ULOMMA

ADAMMA

ADEDUNNI (A YORUBA MAIDEN)

ONE-MAN-FROM-THE-TRAIN

GIRL-IN-CROWD 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

VILLAGER 1, 2, 3

ELDER 1, 2, 3

MAIDEN 1, 2

WOMAN-IN-CROWD

OLUCHI

ADAOBI

NDIDI

IGWE

STRANGER

PROLOGUE

ROLL DRUMS

ENTER

ULOJI (MADMAN).

(He enters robbed in rags chewing a stick)

If your heart says you have no ears, please give your mind then to this vein: only a fool laughs at a dog with broken limbs. A wise man knows that a wingless fly in the current of wind is a presager of contraption—haply strange or strangely happy; and tumultuous both together. Show me the man who dips his hand in a beast’s mouth in attempt to count his teeth, then I’ll remember Ogonna the son of late Anayo, a suitor in this very village. He that takes or mistakes for bed the back of a boar constrictor shall soon have longer sleep in its bowels—and there perpetual rest!

If blindness inflicts you and your ancestors, (exhibiting a drawers) is this not the drawers of Oluchi, Ogonna’s father’s wife? Oh, you are also amazed!

Since madmen are despised in Iwu, I would be a madman. I who foresaw the glory of Iwu will not steam my brow to see doom blast off its proud crown—that I may see doom well behind!

I look down on Iwu like do the great mountain on the bald head of the hideous hoary hill. The restive hen flaps to shed her plumes in fret, and flies towards me; brings me the substance, and leaves you the feathered flummery! I have your head, by my head, by my toes! The jest is mine, and the joke is you. Hahahaha… (thunderous laughter till exit).

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

ANAYO’S COMPOUND

BACKYARD

(Mazi Mbakwe pays his late brother’s wife and son a visit)

ENTER

MAZI MBAKWE

MAMA OGONNA

MAMA OGONNA

Hope your trip wasn’t too stressful.

MAZI MBAKWE

No, it wasn’t. Thank you my wife. And where is our son, Ogonna?

MAMA OGONNA

Oh, he is coming. He must be coming with some kola nuts for his uncle.

ENTER Ogonna

(Ogonna is with a saucer of kola nuts. He presents it to his uncle)

MAZI MBAKWE

Thank you my son. It shall never be unwell with you. The gods will always guide you. Anayo, my brother, your late father, was never put to shame. You, his seed, will never be put to shame. (He breaks kola nuts and eat.) Ah, exactly the ones your father used to offer me. May his soul rest well.

ALL

Iseh!

MAZI MBAKWE

However, I have not come here for kola nuts. It is only an elder progressed only by years and shrunk with dishonor that would fight a boy for his carp; though he vexes with lack. I’ll never play that man.

ALL

Iseh!

MAZI MBAKWE

My grey hair has tongue to speak experience! (Looking towards Ogonna) I have come here for something rather important, and that is you, Ogonna my son. I have been hearing a lot and my ears have been ravished with rumor. It is a shameless elder whose judgment stands lopsided; hence I must hear the other side. Is it true what they say, that you don’t let anything in two wrappers evade you?

OGONNA

Uncle, everything you heard about me is a lie. Those people just run their mouths like pumps in the city. These tale-bearers, when their tongues itch, and have nothing to tell, invent from their pressured brains something for their mad tongues, as ones palliating a beast—lest their entire heads should hang!

MAZI MBAKWE

Yes, they rather would have their heads hang down from disgrace after a rumour has gone awry. My son, how old are you?

OGONNA

Ah uncle, you forget I was new with blood to the world some thirty-five years ago.

MAZI MBAKWE

Yet you have refused to settle down to the manliness of bridegroomery.

OGONNA

Uncle, is marriage a proof of manhood? I am no less of a man than my wed peers o. Besides, husbandry would waste me away in a week, coupling me to a lawful woman in a wife.

MAZI MBAKWE

To answer your question, you are still a boy until you get married and bear children; I mean children for your mother and to the memory of my late brother, Anayo. (Looking towards Mama Ogonna) Your mother is no more a kid, although she still looks ripe like a young girl; and I hear you don’t chase after only young girls anymore, but married women too!

OGONNA

Ah Uncle, that’s rather heinous! Old palm wine may be sweet, but I still forbid drinking from old women’s trees!

MAZI MBAKWE

Do you hear yourself talk? Ogonna, you dip your hand into a pot of shame, be sure to steal away rotten meats of regret. You chase about Amaechi’s wife like a he-goat kept without the scent of a female since. But remember that, a chicken that fronts to war with an eagle is brought to the eyrie as supper to the eaglets.

MAMA OGONNA

Gbam! Tell him o.

MAZI MBAKWE

Shut up woman! I have not called for your opinion. When a Lion talks, the heifer scorns use of its tongue. Now is not a time for you to talk, or where were you when Ogonna was going wayward? You have spent your entire life with this boy of yours, yet you have lagged to raise him straight. You that have in you the first right to show him right, and since you will not, see what a mess you have left eh! So, woman, let me uncle him as my duty entails!

MAMA OGONNA

I am sorry; I meant no purpose to interrupt you. It’s just that he would never listen…

MAZI MBAKWE

Oh, she fires off again. I think you make it custom to jump the gun and suspect it is this constant nagging and frequent interruptions that have caused my brother’s unhappy death.

EXIT Ogonna quietly

MAMA OGONNA

Ah, ah, Mazi Mbakwe, how could you put it on the side of your tongue that I sent my husband to be with our ancestors, my darling husband, Anayo? (She begins to tears) The gods know that I loved him with all my heart and miss him each passing moment. He was my life, he was my hope. (Aside) Ah, Anayo, my only and all in all! Where are you? Where are those arms with which you used to protect me from the rough assault of the wolves? Where—

MAZI MBAKWE

Beatrice that is enough. I have not brought my boat with me here, nor have mind to swim a bath. I will not have you drown me in these tears merely because I have sweated since then. Who goes to drown merely to take a bath? Besides, I don’t bathe in salt water (except of course you will give me a natural bath). No, I have not come here to seek your tears. We had enough of those at the funeral. To see more would be exasperation. What is gone is gone, and even the gods cannot undo a deed-old and outworn. So why don’t you move on with life and focus on your only son, Ogonna. More so, it is his concerns that make me pant like this, to think just where he might emerge, if he walks the full length of this path. And where is that ingrate you call a son? (He looks about for him, but doesn’t find him)

(calling out to Ogonna) Ogonna! So you now walk out on your elders, eh?

MAZI MBAKWE

The rascal has snuck from reproof. Why never does Youth endure the hard path of reason? You see what I mean? The boy treads without caution; his foot may catch a thorn here, or scratch there. He needs the tending and censures of a father. He needs more often manly talks like this. Your soft company gives sweet host to his ugly defects; that’s why women never should raise boys alone. I have often stressed on that.

MAMA OGONNA

And you propose to achieve that by warming my bed up with your red-hot passion?

MAZI MBAKWE

I am rightfully the next in line to my brother in the family. And what is my brother’s had always been thought mine since long. That includes you and our son Ogonna. Do you think Anayo’s spirit will forgive me ignoring his family? If he wasn’t happy alive, we yet could make his death easy on him.

MAMA OGONNA

You flatter yourself in the presence of a woman; that is far from likely to take you far. Blandish her richly instead, then you may walk as Lion-patriarchs in their Pride, and brag of a hope rich as wealth, to go, as the white man says, the whole hog, and in with her; and rightly do so too. Mbakwe,