UFEDO

By Mike Biose

Nkemi one of the Otani warriors rescued the beautiful Uredo on her way to visit one of her aunts in Obaji and fell in love with her, during one of his visits he made a promise to see her on particular day, though it was rainy and he very sick, he still risked the visit which became very disastrous, a fisherman rescued him and took care of him and later adopted him as his son. When he became well, he eventually visited Idah with his adopted father and a day was set for the marriage rites.

But those were the days that the white men had begun to come first in trickles, one of them Richard a missionary had resided in Igalla land for a while without winning a soul, just at about the time set for the marriage rites Unekwuojo Uredo’s junior brother fell sick the marriage rites was postponed he later died, on the way to be buried at the evil forest where Richard resides, Richard prayed for the young man and he was raised from the dead, Ojomu the father of the young man became a good friend to Richard and eventually got converted and took over trying to reach his own people with the gospel.

Meanwhile just some few days to the beginning of the marriage rites a ship arrived the shores of Onitsha a commercial village and blocked river ways, the ship bombarded Onitsha and the Royal Niger Company sent soldiers to the hinterlands, Nkem being a warrior joined forces with the Ekwumekmu warriors to protect his mother land from been taken over by the white men.

While the war was on, Ojomu’s conversion to Christianity brought about a turnoil in the entire Igalla land, this led to his wife and children’s eyes been gorged out and he beheaded.

After the war with the white men, when Nkem returned to his betrothed, things had taken a new turn.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Nelson
• Release date: Oct 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781400325108

Mike Biose

Mike Biose is a prolific and versatile writer. He is a playwright and a screenplay writer.He has written six plays, which have been performed at the National Theater, Muson Centre, and some universities all in Nigeria,He is also an actor, a comedian and a compere.He is the C.E. O of Tebuwah Group and a director with Lerogab Construction LimitedHe lives with his family in Nigeria.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Adaku sat by her son all night. He had suddenly fallen sick in the farm and began vomiting. His friend Emeka carried him on his back all the way home, as he was so weak he couldn’t walk by himself. Nkem is a very strong man, one of the best warriors in Otani. It was thought that a strange illness had befallen him, he had never been this sick before, not once. People who saw him on the way home thought he had eaten something forbidden by the land, or probably poisoned by someone who hated his guts. Some of the villagers who became concerned began to gather and follow behind, trying one way or another to lend a helping hand. Nkem was really ashamed of himself, but he was too weak to say anything. The Iba had subdued him. Some of their warrior friends helped in carrying him, too. When they got home, nobody was around, but news had gotten to Adaku at the market place that her son was being carried home. She ran all the way home. When she saw Nkem, she was confused at what to do. Nkem could not even talk.

Emeka quickly left to call Udemba the medicine man. When Udemba came, Adaku brought him to where Nkem was lying on a mat wriggling in pains. He put his left palm on his head over and over again and kept quiet.

What could be wrong, our father? Adaku asked in a worried voice. She could not take the suspense any more, but Udemba looked at her sternly for a while and continued with what he was doing. He bent over humming a sonorous song, opened Nkem’s left eyelid, then the right one, then looked around for the medicine bag he brought with him. When he found it, he opened it and brought out some solid white substance from the bag. He looked again into the bag and began searching. Soon he brought out some very dry leaves, dropped the bag by his side, and raised his head while he plucked the leaves.

Bring me a grinding stone, he ordered Adaku without looking at her, still picking the leaves on his laps. When Adaku was gone he looked at the direction where Nkem lay, rose from his seat, walked to Nkem and opened his mouth, looked deep inside, shook his head, came back where he was previously seated, took the bunch of leaves, and continued where he stopped. Soon Adaku came back with the grinding stone just a little above her laps. Emeka helped her and placed it in front of the medicine man, who put the leaves on it as well as the white substance and began grinding while Adaku and Emeka watched. She offered to help him but the old man refused. He kept grinding the concoction all by himself, making some incantations and spitting on the concoction until they had mixed together and became like a munched mist. When he was through he brought a sharp knife, scraped the concortion into a heap, and took a portion of it.

He looked into his bag again, dipped his head into it, and brought out a horn. He poured the concoction into it, brought a greenish substance from his side, probably from some mashed leaves, and poured into the horn. He raised his head slightly looking into nothingness, yet his eyes could seemed to be penetrating through the space between Emeka and Adaku. He raised the horn as high as his mouth and swallowed some quantity of the green substance. He grimaced and shuddered, raised his eyebrows, and took a sharp look on the people watching him as if he were going to pounce on them the next minute.

Bring me some water!. he ordered again.

Adaku hurriedly ran outside and brought some water in a small calabash. The medicine man took the calabash full of water from her and poured some into the horn, then beckoned Emeka to get hold of his friend. Emeka held him hard while the medicine man opened his mouth wide and poured in the substance.

Almost immediately Nkem heaved and began another round of vomiting, this time violently. Emeka held him with all his strength. Nkem began to stretch as if he were going to die, rolling on one side of the floor and then the other. Emeka held him still to prevent him from stretching, fearing he would give up at that moment; suddenly the medicine man tapped him by the shoulder.

Leave him alone, Udemba said sternly. Emeka not hearing continued to struggle with his friend. Leave him alone, Udemba ordered again. Relunctantly Emeka let go off his friend.

They all watched him for a while, then the stretching ceased. Nkem turned around and began panting, heaving heavily. Udemba rose from the stool, held Nkem, and began massaging his backside. When the heaving stopped, he placed him on the mat with Emeka’s help, then placed the back of his left hand on Nkem’s head.

Adaku went outside to get sand to cover the vomit. When she came back and began to pour sand on the vomit, Udemba took the remaining concoction in the horn and gave to Nkem again, who this time was more relaxed and lay down quietly.

The Iba is the male type, very strong; it had been in his body for a very long time. It could have killed him.

Amadioha forbid! I wonder where he got it from; His father and I never had it. Adaku said. She heaved a sign of relief; at least now she knew what was wrong with her son. She looked over his head at her son, who had already dozed off.

Take this. Udemba handed over the remaining concoction already wrapped in a green fresh leaf to her. Administer this to him when he wakes up from sleep.

Thank you very much, our father. What can we do without you!. Adaku said as she accepted the leaf from the medicine man and in return gave him two white fowls.

The old man gladly accepted them, Thank you He said with a smile. He should be better in a few days. If anything happens, send somebody to call me."

Thank you, our father. Please greet mma and the children, she replied as she watched the medicine man walked away. The last time he came was just three market days ago. He would always come to check on his late friend’s children. He was close to the family. Nwankwo, Adaku’s husband, died in his arms. She had never seen an elderly man cry, but on that day Udemba cried. He and Nwankwo were great friends since childhood, though the medicine man was well ahead of him in age. When Nwankwo became sick, Udemba was always around the house to watch over his friend’s health. Before then no one had ever died in his hand. He was the best in the whole of Otani and beyond. He went as far as Otukpo and Gboko to find cure for his friend’s ailment. Nkem was very young, then. He had grown up and taken after his father—tall, strong, very athletic, and swift. He was the only male, having been followed by two sisters in quick succession. Nwankwo was a great warrior. Stronger than an ox, he was greatly feared amongst his friends and foes alike. On many occasions he had single handedly saved Otani from invaders.

Emeka watched his friend sleep. He was tired too—carrying Nkem from the farm wasn’t easy, so he lay beside Nkem and slept. When Adaku entered the living room, she saw both friends snoring heavily. She proceeded to the kitchen to prepare some meals. When she was through she woke Emeka to eat, but then Nkem woke too, though he was still very weak, so she served both of them. When she left the room, Emeka began eating quietly; soon Nkem joined him. He felt like putting something in his stomach as he watched his friend eat. Emeka took a deep glance at his friend and wondered if it was the right time to tell him the message he got from Uredo. He made up his mind and coughed a little.

I delivered your message as you sent me.

Did you see her? Did you see my love?

No, I saw Eleojo her sister; she said she would tell her. She will be waiting for you at your usual meeting place tomorrow.

But for this Iba … I would have been….

Before he could finish saying the words he started another round of vomiting, disgorging all the foofoo he ate until he was tired while Emeka held him. When he was through, Adaku was around to pour some cold water on his head and wipe his face, too, then both of them laid him back on the mat to rest. Emeka looked at his friend with pity.

Really, I don’t understand why you keep vomiting like a pregnant woman.

I don’t know where I got these Iba from.

You have almost vomited all your intestine. Look how skinny you have become in these fews days.

Are you now blaming me for getting sick? Is it my fault that I got sick or do you think I put it on me?

No, that is not the point; the point is that you are disappointing me. Why are you behaving like a pregnant woman just because you are sick of mere Iba? Hold yourself like a man. Why should this sickness subdue you like a mangala fish?

Nkem looked at his friend and just shrugged his shoulders. Emeka knew his friend since childhood. Truly he had never known him to be this sick all his life. If Nkem was a weakling he would have not bothered himself, but Nkem is strong like Ugbele rock and rarely sick. He wondered how he could be so humbled by this strong Iba—of all sicknesses, a mere Iba! Anyway, it was not time to talk. Let him get well first, then he would make jest of him; for now he lay beside him, watching over him. When it was night, he left the house and promised Adaku he was going to come back in the morning. He would not go to the farm: farmwork will be boring without Nkem. He really would miss him. He enjoyed Nkem’s sense of humour. He had better stay at home with him and wait on him until he got better. Then they would go to the farm together. Moreover, he needed to see his mother. She had sent Adaeze his sister to call him, but he couldn’t go because Udemba the medicine man was around. Like Nkem he too lost his father, shortly after Nkem’s father died. This had brought the young lads together closer. He had grown to love Nkem like his own skin, even more than a brother. They had always stayed together.

After Emeka left for home that night, Nkem got worse and began shivering. It was Nneka who saw him. She had come into his room to check on him when she came back from the market. Her mother told her what she went through since Emeka came to call her that Nkem was sick. She had thought it was a joke, because Nkem rarely got sick and when he did, it was usually a minor headache. Nneka watched his brother for a while and quickly ran to call her mother.

When she came into where her son lay, he was already on the floor. She remembered the medicine Udemba gave her. She searched for where she hid it, brought it out, put it in the same horn he left with her, mixed it with water just like he did, and fed Nkem with it. When she was sure he had taken enough, she had him lay down on the mat and sat beside him. But the shivering didn’t stop. Adaku became afraid that this might not be ordinary sickness. She was lost at what to do.

She looked around the house for all the animal skins her husband Nwankwo had hidden around the house whenever he killed an animal from his hunting expeditions. If they were huge animals, he would always take off their skins, dry them and hid them in the house. She couldn’t find them. It had been a long time they had used them. Her husband had used bamboo poles as celling. It dawned on her that he had hidden them on the celling because of thieves, raiders, and warriors from other clans who frequently raid Otani those days. It was night; she couldn’t beg any of the young boys around, even Emeka, to help her bring down the animal skins. She needed to cover Nkem with them because of cold.

She finally got a stool and climbed. From the stool she jumped and held on to one of the bamboo poles on the roof, but the poles were too dry and not strong enough. They caved in, throwing her on the floor close to her son. The animal skins rolled on her as she lay on the floor. She broke her wrist, arms, and everywhere sharp pains enveloped her. The noise woke Nneka and Chineye.

She rose from the floor before her daughters could get to her. She beckoned them to go back to sleep, picking up the animal skins and covering her son with them. She noticed the shivering subsided a little. She remembered there was this ointment, the lion’s salve, which her husband brought from one of the fishermen from Ndokwa, very pepperish but would do wonders in healing all ailments including cold. She rubbed her body with it, then rubbed it on her son too. When she was through, she watched him for a while. While she watched, she began to feel her own pain; tears began to well up her eyes. She would do anything for her son to live. When she got married, for five years she could not have a child. She begged alushi-mmili several times for children. She would go to the big river in the evenings crying, singing to the water goddess, carrying her offerings with her. Her mother would always tell her to be patient, that her children would come. If only she knew, but Nwankwo’s mother made her life miserable. She begged her to bear children for her son, saying she wanted to see her real grandchildren. She rejected the children from Ngbafor her son’s other wife because they were imbeciles, all of them. Adaku pitied Nwankwo and wanted to give him children. She cried and cried. When she got pregnant for Nkem, she did not know it at first because she did not know what pregnancy felt like. Not until she visited her mother-in-law in Anam; who saw her and began dancing. She asked her to turn around and started to dance round her again. Adaku was surprised to see her mother-in-law welcoming her with a dance. She had never seen her in this mood before. She became confused. She never wanted to go to Anam that morning. It was her husband who forced her. She hated her mother-in-law, avoiding her at every opportunity. The woman was wicked: she would insult her and warn her to stop eating her son’s food if she would not bear him children. Sometimes she would come to the house with young beautiful girls whom she wanted for her son, but Nwankwo would insist he never wanted more wives. His mother pestered him so much that she wouldn’t mind to pay their dowries if he wanted any of them. When the pressure became so much, Nwankwo would go to the forest for many days just to avoid his mother and her antics, most times taking Adaku with him. Once she brought a woman home for Nwankwo to marry whom she herself had paid dowry, but he refused. He simply returned the young woman to her parents and refused to collect the bride price her mother paid on her. Now the same woman is turning around to dance around her. Initially she was afraid to ask her what the matter was, then she summoned courage to ask her what the dance was all about, why the sudden change towards her, why the sudden likeness?

You are with child, my daughter! Can’t you see it? Don’t you know? she replied joyfully

What? a bewildered Adaku exclaimed. She was shocked, rooted on the spot, her head spinning wildly. She looked at herself and looked again at her mother-in-law. Please … Nnem uku, tell me … how did you know … I am … I am…, she stammered.

Your body had changed, my daughter! Look … look at you!. she interrupted as she danced around her once more and held her by the hands, taking her into the house singing joyfully. Adaku followed her sheepishly, not sure what antics her mother-in-law was up to this time. She chose not to believe her. Indeed there were changes around her, but not like that of her friends who would feel funny in the mornings and vomit and spit every where. She did not feel anything except that she was adding weight. She felt it was because she was eating well. Nwankwo her husband was a strong man, a warrior, a farmer, a fisherman and a hunter, so she never lacked meat especially antelope meat. Her husband loved antelope meat and killed them in abundance. She even sold their skins to the traders from Udi and Idah.

It was when her belly began protruding that she believed what her mother-in-law had told her, but by then she was near delivery. When the birth pangs began, she did not know what it was. She was on the way to the farm that morning. Nwankwo had come visiting her in Anam and left for home the following day. He asked her not to join him since there was nothing much to do in Otani anyway. After her husband had gone, she needed some cassava. The one she had in the barn had ran out. She had calculated that she would be back home before her mother-in-law; her second farmland was nearer home, so she would go and come back quickly. She felt some rumbling in her stomach and held herself thinking that soon it would subside. She kept walking.

Suddenly her belly began to rage like wild fire and she felt like stooling. It was like her whole body caught fire. She did not understand what was happening to her anymore. She became confused. She wanted to return home and take care of herself, but she was so naïve. There were leaves around that she would chew and then she would be better. She just saw one of the leaves. She stepped aside and plucked some. She began to chew them and felt a little better.

Soon enough it all started again. This time it was furious. She couldn’t take the pain anymore so she decided she was going to do whatever her body told her. She looked for a safe place. Before she could bend down, water gushed out. She kept pushing until she felt something in between her thighs. She bent over to see what it was and saw the head of her child that had just popped out. She screamed in horror, then lay down on her back still looking at what was in between her legs. She realized the only way to help bring her child out was to push the child out of her. She pushed again and again, until she began to feel weak and dizzy. Hot tears began pouring from her eyes, but she summoned all her strength and screamed louder. She waited a while, summoned more strength, and screamed louder again, this time, filling the whole farm with her scream.

An old woman whose farm was closer heard the screams and recognize them for what they were, birth pangs. She came running towards the direction of the screams, only to find Adaku pushing to let her child out all by herself. The old woman knew Adaku as Nkwankwo’s wife; only recently was she introduced to her, but she was shocked Adaku was due to deliver. She only heard about her pregnancy two moons ago—how come? All she could do now was help her deliver her child; quickly, she looked around for some plantain leaves, cut them, lifted Adaku up and spread the leaves underneath her and placed her on them, now she bent down in between her legs.

Relax a little, my daughter, relax. Your child would soon be out, she begged her.

Haaaaaaa, I am dying! Is my child all right? Adaku screamed.

No, you will not die. Your son is very well. You will give birth to this child and live to reap the fruit of your labour. All you need to do now is push. The old woman helped to adjust Adaku’s position and urged her to keep pushing. Adaku obeyed the old woman and began pushing. As she pushed, the child began to come out of her while the woman held the child with her hand.

Now, push harder for the last time, the old woman urged her. Adaku obeyed, pushing with all her might.

Now you’ll have to push again harder than you ever did before, for this your child looks like a warrior from birth. You know it is not easy to give birth to a warrior, my child. This time Adaku gathered her remaining strength, pushed, and fainted. The child fell completely into the old woman’s hand. She hit the child with a well-measured force and soon Nkem’s cry filled the entire village. Every one far and near heard the cry and wondered who had given birth, but nobody’s mind ever went to Adaku. Some did not know she was pregnant. Those who knew did not believe it when they were told she was the one who had given birth. As soon as Adaku came to, she still remembered hearing Nkem’s first cry. It was a cry of pain, sorrow, and justice!

Nkem paddled softly. He was so tired and had not wanted to leave home, but he had to see Uredo. He had promised to see her today. Though he had not been particularly strong after that bout of Iba, he had to keep his promise: he knew Uredo had no patience for a man who would not keep his word. Several times she had told him she loved him because he was a real man. He must see her no matter what it takes; no bout of malaria can come between him and his love. He summoned his strength and started to paddle a little faster. He looked around and was happy he had made some distance already, but he still have a long distance to go. He looked at the sky; it had never been this beautiful. He took a deep breath and paused for a while, allowing his canoe to just float down the river. Again he began to feel weak. Inside him he knew he would not have left the house—he needed time to take care of himself. When he sent a message to Uredo, he was hale and hearty. He never knew he would be sick, but this bout of Iba must not stop him. His mind razed on within him as he kept paddling. When his strength began to fail, he felt like going back to Otani; then he would send a message through Emeka to her and tell her he was sick. That sounds like a woman’s word; nothing stops a man from doing what he had to do, not even sickness.

I must see her, he mumbled softly with a thin smile on his lips. My heartbeat, my love. He paddled on.

Again he felt like vomiting. He stopped paddling and held his stomach. The air was a little hot and was hitting his chest, making him feel drowsy. Suddenly he threw up and began vomiting inside the canoe. He turned his mouth into the river. The canoe slowed down while he vomited. Feeling spent he began panting. He took a deep breath and felt better. He took water from the river, rinsed his mouth and then washed his face with it, took his paddle again into the river. He breathed deeply twice and continued with his journey.

If Adaku his mother knew he had left home to go this distance, she would be very upset. The Iba had been worse this morning: he almost vomited all his intestine, the foofoo and all. Adaku had to rush to Udemba the village medicine man for help, and the old man, after administering his medicine, asked Nkem to rest. Soon after Emeka his best friend visited, he left the house on the pretense of escorting him.

"Nne would really be upset if I do not come home, but … who cares, he thought. I have to see Uredo. Oh, my beautiful Uredo," he moaned passionately. Soon I shall see her ... I know she will be waiting at the river bank

He paddled faster. He had to cross the popular Onitsha Market by the bank of the river. He hoped he would not be seen by anyone who knew him: he does not have time to exchange pleasantries with anyone now. He saw Okachi, a fisherman, hurriedly paddling fast to Ahaba, probably to sell his smoked fish before nightfall. Okachi had not been home for a while. He prefers to stay in his hut along the river nowadays because of his troublesome wife, who had developed the habit of beating him up at the slightest provocation. She was a tiny little girl when he married her, but after delivering her first child, she became very fat and huge. Okachi who was small in stature could no longer handle his wife. She would sit on him and pound him sometimes almost to oblivion.

Nkem shook his head vigorously and spat into the river. A being that urinates from behind will never beat me no matter how powerful she may be—never! Not in this world or afterlife, tufiakwa! Amadioha forbids!.

He paddled faster. Uredo was the most beautiful village belle, loved and admired by all. Many a time she had broken so many a young man’s heart because of Nkem, whom she loved with every fire in her being. She loved Nkem totally, wildly … completely. She loved him for his strength and boldness. Nkem had saved her life when she was caught in the war of the Otanis and the Obajis. It was such a fierce war that she was almost killed. Her mother had sent her then on errand to Obaji. There had been raids amongst the Obaji communities the previous week, but the Obajis never knew they were being lured into a fight. It happened so suddenly. The Obajis always said that, Otani people fight like women because they will never tell the other clan they were coming for war. So clans around them were always prepared, but in this case for the Obajis, it was too sudden.

When the Otanis entered Obaji that early morning, one of the compounds Nkem and his fellow warriors entered was Uredo’s uncle’s. Just then, Uredo was preparing to go back to Idah. When the door opened, Nkem, with a very sharp cutlass on hand, came face to face with her. He would have cut off her head, had she not been carrying a native lamp. When Nkem saw her, he even lifted his cutlass to strike. Suddenly he felt so weak—he had never seen a maiden so beautiful! No woman’s beauty could sway him, but not this: he had to think fast whether to save or kill her. He quickly made up his mind he would like to see her again. Such a beautiful being should not die. He looked at her again and shook his head. Her beauty all over had saved her. He smiled at her, but she wasn’t looking; instead, she was on her knees pleading for her life and that of the people with her. He nodded and commanded five warriors to guard the compound and prevent the house from being set ablaze!

Nkem paddled on, the sun shining brightly and the sky so beautifully adorned, grazed by sheets of silver clouds, the warmth of the sun biting on harmlessly, the breeze so peaceful, playfully caressing his flesh.

It had never been like this for a long time. I can’t remember the last time the weather was this beautiful, just like Uredo my love, he said softly, smiling.

It was also a time to go to war, this being the time when clans met on the river amidst drumbeats interwoven with rhythms from the flute. Chukwunolu, the drunk, a great flutist, would make any man mad when it got to war. Sometimes wars are good, you know.

It was during the war that I met Uredo my love. Uredo…. Oh…. Uredo…. His mind reveried back to the war, the invasion of the Obajis, that early morning he saw Uredo for the first time. He was breathless.

Can a woman be this beautiful? he wondered.

He had left her in the care of his warrior friends for protection. When he came back for her, she had gone. She sneaked away with her relatives through the back door, without the knowledge of his warrior friends. She did not want to leave to chance her relatives being killed by the warriors. He was mad, mad at his warrior friends. He became confused at what to do. He was the leader of his own troop—he could not leave them and begin to look for her. That would mean spoiling the war plan and of course by now, the other clans had already gathered their warriors to fight and protect their people. He walked on, but his mind kept wandering. He could not concentrate anymore: he kept soliloquizing.

That means that wherever she is now, she is not safe. He became mad at himself for ever letting her out of his sight. What will he do now? Is she dead by now? Had she been killed? Had any other warrior seen what he had seen?" His mind razed madly.

Where do I start from to look for her? he said, breathing deeply. No, no matter what, Otani comes first. No Otani warrior falls in love during a raid like this, but that does not mean that if one sees a beautiful girl, one should not take her as part of spoils of war … but I could not rest since I set my eyes on this girl. She is so beautiful. May be I would have taken her as part of spoils of war and make her my wife.

I am not a woman, he mused silently. I don’t believe in forcing a woman to marry me. If ever we should marry, it must be with her consent and that of her parents. But why should I be thinking about this girl … why?

He turned around to his troop. Let’s go! he ordered; inwardly he was scared. Uredo’s eyes still delighted him, hunting him to his marrow.

How dare I let her die! He shuddered as they walked across the bush part.

He called his best friend by his side and whispered slowly, Emeka, I am worried.

About what?

That girl.

That beautiful girl who escaped from our custody this morning?

So you noticed.

Nkem you are mad! Emeka roared.

I am not.

You are. You are certainly out of your senses.

Yes, I am, Nkem answered sheepishly. I think I am in love with her.

We are on a mission, Nkem, and you know the rules.

I agree totally with you, but what can we do to save her? I don’t want her to die. Emeka, please help me.

Emeka looked into his friend’s eyes. He knew Nkem was never the type that asked his favor; in fact, Nkem had never accepted weakness wholeheartedly. This love must be so strong. Many young girls in Otani had fallen in love with him but he never barged or blinked an eyelid, yet the same Nkem was now begging for a young girl to stay alive. Hmmm, this world, this girl … what is it about this girl, he wondered. How could his friend suddenly soften like mere agidi?" He glanced at him for a second and decided to let the matter go.

They walked on, Nkem standing behind confused at what to do. He was no weakling, even the warriors all knew that, but right now a lot is at stake. Just as Emeka turned to ask Nkem to take over the leadership of the troop, Nkem tore blindly into the bush, not minding if the thorns tore deep into his flesh or not.

Nkemeakonam! Emeka roared and followed after him. He was no where faster than him when it came to running—his legs are long and slim—but he followed despite. Nwafor, the third in the hierarchy of leadership, took over and marched on with the warriors.

Nkem kept running, tearing blindly into the thick forest. Uredo’s relatives left no trails at all. If he were ever to see them again it will be by sheer fate, but he hoped something might lead him towards them. Emeka followed behind, trying to keep pace with his friend. Nkem might need his help, but why would Nkem do this? As a leader, he had taken a risk too high. They had a lot going for them. They were childhood friends and had been the closest. Nkem had never behaved like this. Just then he heard a scream and he halted. He didn’t know where it was coming from.

Nkem also heard the scream and halted too, then followed the direction where he thought the scream was coming from. Suddenly he burst into a group of warriors from Agenebode. They had killed Uredo’s uncle and tied everybody to the trees including Uredo. Nkem counted them at a glance and knew they were twelve, he would either kill them or they kill him, he looked at Uredo again, her body was already stained with blood, he wondered what they had done to her. Suddenly a spear missed him by a hair’s breadth and in quick succession another hit him by the left thigh. Nkem wailed out in pain.

That was Nkem’s voice, Emeka whispered as he halted. "Where is he?" He looked to all directions and took a path where he thought the scream was coming from.

Nkem was hit hard. He was a strong man, but now his strength was beginning to fail him. The spear was poisoned and almost immediately he was beginning to feel its potency. But he had to fight. He must fight until his last breath. Every Otani boy knows the antidote to a spear poison. Quickly he yanked the spear off his thighs and threw it at the leader of the gang, which hit him straight in the stomach, piercing through the back. The leader died instantly. This scared the other warriors. By the time Emeka who had been hiding behind a tree killed another four with his bow and arrow, they fled in terror, thinking that there were other warriors hiding behind the trees. Despite his pains, Nkem struggled to stand, dragging himself to Uredo and loosing her and her relatives while Emeka looked around menacingly incase any one tried to attack. Then the bush ruffled. Emeka turned around….

Shortly after the warriors from Agenebode had gone, Nkem slumped. Uredo and Emeka rushed at him at the same time but Emeka beckoned Uredo to move back. He and the other warriors laid Nkem on the ground and examined his wound. Olisa brought out the antidote and handed it to Emeka, who applied it to the wounds. Olisa called on one of the tallest warriors amongst its ranks, Obalichi, to carry Nkem on his back. Two other warriors helped put Nkem on Obalichi’s back and they kept moving, but they were all uncomfortable.

When it began to darken, it became obvious that the antidote wasn’t working. Nothing had changed about Nkem’s situation. He had even stopped breathing when Emeka examined him. They began to contemplate on what to do. When they began to dig the grave to bury him, Uredo ran to them and began struggling with them to stop digging.

He is not dead! she screamed at them. Stop it … stop digging … he is not dead!

But he is not breathing anymore! Emeka shouted back at her.

He is, only you can’t see. Please, he is not dead. Uredo continued to struggle with them amidst her tears, but the men only pushed her aside and continued digging.

You may continue digging … but that grave … that grave is not for him. Such a handsome man that saved my life cannot die … see, I have the antidote! she screamed at them again. When Olisa heard that, he tapped Emeka as he turned to him.

Listen to this young woman. Maybe she really does have the antidote.

Young woman, come, Emeka said, beckoning on Uredo. She walked up to him. Where is the antidote? he asked her, looking deep into her eyes.

Uredo put her hand into her waist side and brought out a small gourd wrapped in some thick dried leaves. She raised it above her head to show him. Here it is, she said as she fought back the tears still flowing down her cheeks.

Are you sure this is really the antidote? Emeka asked, searching deeply into her steamy eyes.

Yes, Uredo answered him, swallowing her tears and lowering her eyes from Emeka’s penetrating gaze. Agenebode warriors prepare poison similar to ours. Infact, they sometimes come to us to prepare the poison portion for them. That is why I am carrying one myself in case any of us is hit with arrows or spears while we tread this dangerous parts.

Emeka collected the small antidote gourd from her and examined it thoroughly, It is the same with the ones I have seen before, he said, as he handed it back to her.

Probably you have seen it before, but what is inside is diferent. My father prepared it himself and gave it to me incase, and whatever he prepared had never failed…. I’ll also need to get some herbs from the forest around here to treat him as well after applying the antidote. She continued pleading to Emeka with her eyes.

Okay, go get it, Emeka ordered her and motioned on Olisa and Obalichi to follow her. Uredo ran deep into the forest and the two men followed her. When they were gone, Emeka wondered how such a young soft girl like Uredo could have so much strength. Now he understood why Nkem went wild with the fire of love. The girl was very beautiful. What else did Nkem see? he wondered. Whatever he did worked because this girl had fallen head over heels in love with him, he said to himself with some smiles plastered on one side of his mouth. He then called on the other warriors and they began to cut down palm fronds with which they built two small huts. When they had finished building, they carried Nkem inside and put him on a small bamboo bed they had made for him.

After a long while when the night itself had gone to sleep, Uredo and the two men returned from inside the forest, with Uredo carrying some herbs and barks of trees in her arms. When she got to the hut, she made some fire and put the leaves inside the fire. When they had become hot and had began to dry, she removed them from the fire and squeezed out the liquid. She then rose up from where she sat, took the leaves and the liquid, and went to where Nkem lay.

First, she examined him. She noticed that blood had began oozing out of his anus. That was the effect of the poison. She had seen that before. She knew she had little time left or he would die.

She brought out the antidote from her waist, opened it, opened Nkem’s mouth as well, and poured some of it inside. She then covered his mouth for a while to make sure he swallowed at least some of the antidote, which would check the effect of the poison and stop the blood from oozing. Soon she let go of his mouth and poured the remaining antidote on his wound. She then waited for a while. Olisa and the other warriors watched with keen interest. Not too far away her cousins stood watching too, but she was not looking at them—she felt something for the handsome man lying in front of her and would do anything to make sure he lived.

She didn’t know why she had loved him so suddenly. She secretly admitted she had never seen a man with more masculine appeal.

Just then, one of her cousins, Ameh, walked up to her and squeezed her hands. Uredo leaned on her, smiled, and whispered into her ears, Oh, just look at him … so beautiful … so tender.

Ameh looked at him and smiled, too, then she returned her whisper, You are already madly in love with him, my aunt. Look at you treating him like a wild witch doctor terribly in love. I was watching you all the while.

They both giggled quietly while she pushed her cousin away from her. She looked at his pale face from the lightened torch one of the warriors had carried for her to see what she was doing. In her heart she prayed to Ayegbamukwo to make him live. She really wanted him to live. Her heart yearned for him. She didn’t know how fast the poison had gone round his body. She was sure he was almost dead. She wondered if his soul had not gone past the great Akan river. Inside of her she was beginning to fear. When she plucked the first herb from the forest, she had felt she was mad. What if the young man had died? What would have happened to her and her relatives? Suddenly her thought was beginning to get disjointed. He just must live, she muttered in between her breath. She hoped her treating him now would bring him back to life.

She poured the liquid on the wound and rubbed it with the hot dry leaves. She returned to the fire and took some of the other leaves she had brought from the forest. She put them inside the fire again. She took some of the tree barks and put them on the fire too. When they were thoroughly burnt, she packed the ash and put them inside a leaf. She also poured in the liquid. She wrapped the leaf and put it inside the fire. When it had softened a little, she removed it with her bare hands and stood up from where she sat. She went again to where Nkem lay and placed it on the wound. She then used the same leaf to cover up the wound. When that was through, she brought a leaf, squeezed it a little, and put it on his nostrils. She stayed her hands for a while; after a longer while, Nkem sneezed. Emeka, Olisa, and Obalichi who had been watching her closely moved closer but she cautioned them.

Let him rest. Tomorrow or the day after, he will be okay. The poison from the spear was a very potent one, she explained to them. The three men moved back. When Uredo was through with Nkem for the night, she lay by his side and slept. The three warriors did not. They watched over all the others, especially Nkem until the morning sun began smiling again all over the forest.

Two days later, Nkem felt a very soft feminine hand rubbing some concortion on his thigh. When he opened his eyes, he saw Uredo smiling over him while treating him, but then she quickly ran out to call the others who followed her back to the hut. When he saw all of them, he closed his eyes and then opened them again. He then smiled at Uredo and looked around him: Emeka and Olisa stood not too far from the door of the hut he was in.

Where are we? he asked them as he tried hard to rise from the bamboo bed he had been lying in, but then Emeka and Uredo laid him back.

Still at war, Emeka teased.

Then what am I doing here? Nkem asked, surprised at how he found himself lying on a bamboo bed, his eyes turning to the young woman again.

She nursed you back to health. You were long dead, Olisa teased as he looked towards Uredo’s direction.

Only then did Nkem looked at the direction of the young woman sitting by his bedside. She smiled at him again, caressing him with her fingers.

That poisoned spear that hit you was very potent. You were dying rapidly, but she knew the antidote and treated you with it. We had already left you for dead but she refused to let go. She kept crying over your body. Emeka continued, We had to let her do what she can do and here you are.

I have never seen a woman show such love in my whole life. She said you must not die because you came to save her life, Olisa said.

No, I said such a handsome man must not die because he came to save my life, Uredo reminded Olisa, teasing.

You hear her again, I don’t know yet what both of you have seen in yourselves, Emeka teased back.

My love, Uredo whispered gently into his ears in broken Igbo language, thank you for saving my life.

Thank you for saving mine too, Nkem said, holding her soft hands and looking deep into her eyes. Thank you.

Uredo looked deep into Nkem’s eyes again and smiled. She had never met a bold warrior like him. He fought many warrors to save her life and that of her relatives. Suddenly Nkem felt a sharp pain in his thigh and screamed.

It is already healing, my love, Uredo assured him as she again began to run her fingers so gently around the wound. You would soon be totally healed," she said.

Thank you for making sure I lived, Nkem said as he touched Uredo’s hands again.

Shortly Emeka ran back and shouted to the army that they must break camp and move quickly. The enemy warriors were back on their trail. At first there was some argument. Olisa ran to ascertain what Emeka said. Quickly they all got on their feet. Emeka himself lifted Nkem from his bamboo bed and carried him….

The first drop of rain jolted Nkem to reality. It was then he noticed that the weather had changed considerably almost suddenly. That is one thing about this river: you would never know what would happen next, especially in the rainy season, but the rainy season is almost gone. Not that Nkem was not expecting some rain: it was supposed to be the end of raining season and the beginning of the Harmattan season, but the rain had simply refused to go. It wasn’t like this the other year, when they had gone raiding.

Now the sun had darkened because the rain god had covered it with its clothe. Now he will soon begin to conjure the rains to fall on the earth. Nkem looked around for other canoes. He noticed there was none on the river.

This must be serious, he muttered. I must have been deep in thought and didn’t notice the change in weather. It is almost too late; now I have to paddle faster to safety before these heavy rain begin. He gathered his strength and began paddling, but he couldn’t go fast like he used to because of the bout of Iba, which had completely drained his strength:

Oh, Amadioha, he prayed quietly, please don’t make the rain come now.

As if Amadioha, the thunder god, defiantly turned a deaf ear to his prayers, it struck violently and the sky opened her bowels and poured down rain as if offended by the earth. The river responded furiously to the drumbeats of the storm and began dancing madly, rocking the canoe here and there in reckless abandon. Nkem held on firmly to the canoe with all his strength. He seemed confused. Before he could make up his mind at what to do, the canoe capsized, throwing him deep into the river. He had learned never to struggle with the river: it will carry him to where he is going because no strong storm will ever make a river flow backwards. Every Otani man knew this idiom. Every Otani man knew what to do in times like this. They were born by the riverside. They were the children of the river. They were one with the river. Even though he was the son of the river goddess, for the first time in his life he was scared. This was too much even for him. He couldn’t swim because he had lost so much strength. This Iba had really dealt with him, but the river could not swallow one of hers. It is not possible but not today: the river did not seem to recognize her son. She seemed too furious. She took hold of Nkem, chewed him over and over, and spilled him out of her mouth. Nkem picked himself up and tried hard to put himself together. Again she threw him up high in the sky and dropped him in the river. Nkem gathered some strength and began swimming towards the shore.

Uredo! Ujadu screamed once more,

Iye, she answered as her mother’s scream sent her scrambling on her feet.

What are you thinking about? I have called you for the umpteenth time.

Nothing, Iye, she answered between anger and smiles. She hated being interrupted whenever she was thinking about her beloved Nkem.

Get me some water, her mother ordered.

Yes, Iye. She ran outside the kitchen with a large calabash to get water. Her mind flashed to Nkem; her face lightened and pasted a smile on her lips. She toppled the big water pot almost to the ground before she could get to pour some water into the calabash and lifted the calabash to her head. Again she smiled as thoughts of her beloved flashed across her mind. She blushed and winked.

Must it take you ages to get me water … Uredo? Once again her mother’s voice jolted her back to reality as she walked sluggishly toward her mother with the calabash full of water.

Are you all right at all? Ujadu asked, looking deep into her daughter’s eyes. Are you sure you are all right? You are behaving like a pregnant woman—or are you pregnant? she picked her words consciously, concentrating intensely still on her daughter’s eyes.

I am not … Iye, Uredo answered, turning her eyes away

I am sure you are because I do not understand why you are dragging yourself like aibo the tortoise this afternoon, Ujadu concluded as she turned to the clay pot on fire, adjusted it, stretched her hands, and packed a handful of the dry palm kernel straws in a basket above her head under the clay pot. Soon the bellows of smoke filled everywhere. Uredo coughed. Ujadu looked at Uredo from the corner of her eyes and shook her head.

As if she understood what her mother was saying with her eyes, Uredo looked around for the native fan and with it began fanning the fire. Her mother bent down and adjusted the firewood. When the fire picked, she rose to her feet. Ujadu was known for her early cooking. Though she just came into the house, she had gone to visit Ojale her friend who just gave birth to her twentieth child that morning. She would always start hours before the other women in the village not because she had a large house but because she took her time. Everybody in the neighborhood knew she cooked well. Sometimes her friends will visit just to have a taste of her food because of the aroma that would always fill the whole village. The village children would always find their way to her compound; there was food always for everyone at