My Priceless Bride

By James Kumah Yao Kpetigo

The Priceless Bride is a story about a child who while in the womb was declared evil by a fetish priest and foretold shall bring about the destruction of the kingdom should he be allowed to see the sun, though he mysteriously survived all effort by his family and community to have him aborted or dead, yet, he however became their beloved king in-spite of the twisting drama and tragedies that follows, upon his friendship with a mysterious lady whose destiny according to prophesy was intertwine with his, but foretold by the fetish priest, to be his eternal archrival. With this two friends coming from tribal family and a kingdom that is hostile to each other, was their task of uniting the divided kingdom as the precondition of their marriage successful? How about their marriage, is she an angel, a demon, or a human, the story continues

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483682198

James Kumah Yao Kpetigo

NAME: James Kumah Yao Kpetigo Date of Birth: 12th January 1978 Place of Birth: Accra, Ghana Mothers Name: Elias Salah Fathers Name: Jacob Kpetigo Profession: Pastor Email: [e-mail] James Kumahyao Kpetigo is a Ghanaian born in Accra, but hails from Adutor- Agave in the Volta Region. He is a graduate from Modern College of Science and Technology, a reverend minister by profession, and married to Gloria Nyantakyi.

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James Kumah Yao Kpetigo

Copyright © 2013 by James Kumah Yao Kpetigo.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2013914453

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4836-8218-1

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4836-8217-4

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4836-8219-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 12/02/2013

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Contents

How it Began

At Her Home

In the Garden

In the Entertainment Hall

Under the Tree

A Stroll in the Garden

The Following Day

Life at Apambia Village

At the Noble Woman’s House

At Orsoronewa Village

At the Palace of Menim

The Second Arrest

At the Throne City of Mojabia

At the Town Square

In the Cave with My Dead

The Drama at Mojabia

At the Vetting Hall

At the Royal Feast

The Hospital

From Ngubia to Amekuku

In the Palace

If love is said to include having a strong affection for one another or attraction based on admiration, benevolence, sexual desire, or common interest arising out of kinship or personal ties, then I have a story to tell.

Far away from the throne city of Mojabia, in the breakaway kingdom of Orsoroba, lies a remote village among the Kwa people called Ngubia, located in the eastern corridors of that kingdom and across the west eastern part of Africa. This village called Ngubia happens to be the place where I was, unfortunately, conceived, born, and bred in a community where the atmosphere could best be described as the survival of the fittest zone. For as a part of the culture in that village, in order to be accepted as a man fit and worthy enough to be living among men, every young man, at the age eighteen and above, was required to undergo the tradition of proving his prowess, manhood, and prospects to the family, community, and even his fiancée by facing alone with his bare hands, or with a simple knife, any wild animal the elders of the land would, by simple majority, choose for him to kill or overpower. As a result, families subjected their sons to inhumane training and conditions at early stages of their lives, to prepare them for the hour since the family’s honor was at stake.

But as nature would have it, and just as the good old books have said the race is not to the swift, or the battle to the strong, nor food to the wise, but time and chance happens to them all, I was privileged because although I never had the chance to prove my prowess or manhood to the community and family, due to earlier challenges and abandonment I had suffered, I was fortunate to find favor in the eyes of a wealthy but mysterious young lady, who possessed immaculate beauty, flawless wisdom, and impeccable virtues and demonstrated her exceptional love toward me in a manner which makes me feel honored to share it with you.

How it Began

Despite living only a short distance apart in the same community since childhood with this young lady, due to an oath of separatism, performed with the blood of a viper and crocodile, I had taken before my father and a fetish priest, I was forbidden to either associate with or speak a word to her since according to the fetish priest, ‘her star and that of us are of origin of immortal enmity and destruction.’ The fetish priest warned us that inevitable doom and calamity would befall my family and the kingdom should any of my father’s children, especially me, ever get in contact with the young lady. This news began to spread, and the whole community came to a standstill. For fear that failure on our part would not only hurt our family but the kingdom as well, members of the community acted as watchdogs over us, since that was the most they could do as the young lady’s family had bodyguards and powerful weapons they would not be able to fight. Though I must admit I never believed or understood the fetish priest’s warning as a child, however, the total withdrawal of this young lady’s family from the traditions, culture, and rituals of our land, their unwillingness to disclose their identities to anybody, and their claim to a strange God of Heaven with a form of worship which was contrary to what our forefathers had taught us gave me reason to believe the warning of the fetish priest.

Meeting her was somehow an uneasy encounter because I’d been walking briskly with a water skin in one hand and a cane across my shoulder, at the end of which, wrapped in antelope skin, were a few shabby clothes of mine. I was hitting the only forest route in an attempt to escape to the kingdom of Molugu, for greener pastures, when I saw this young lady standing alone at a short distance ahead of me, under a tree. And since sightseeing was a norm among the youths of the village, I quickly perceived that to be the reason for her being there and thought, if that was the case, her bodyguards might somehow be close around since she went nowhere without them. Therefore, as there was an onus on me to avoid trouble with her bodyguards, I kept my head bowed to avoid direct eye contact. I came to a halt about ten yards away from her and awaited the command for me to pass by as that had always been the case, but to my surprise, I heard not a male but female voice speak. In my state of confusion, I raised my head out of perplexity to see who owned that unfamiliar but charming voice, and lo and behold, to my utmost surprise, there stood the lady about two yards before me.

Though with a breathtaking smile she beckoned me to come over, fearing it was a plot, and recalling the oath and prophecy, I declined. But as she persisted, I had a change of mind and took the initiative since, after all, apart from the possibility of my dying in this lady’s hands, my own family and the community sought my death as well. I glanced around me continuously, with utmost caution, with each step I took. She realized I was uneasy and stepped forward to meet me face-to-face. However, that prevented me from bowing my head down to avoid eye contact. In a humble and amiable manner, she stretched her hand toward me and greeted, Good morning, and how are you, Brother James?

As startled as I was since that was the first time someone had ever added a title like brother to my name, what was more startling was her mentioning my name—since we’d never spoken or approached each other before. While wondering about how she had come to know my name and, at the same time, thinking about her bodyguards, the oath, the warnings, and the prophecy of the fetish priest, not to mention the tension that came with standing before a beautiful presence like herself, I became so confused that I was totally indecisive about what to do with her outstretched hand.

I sincerely couldn’t decide whether to go down on one knee before kissing her hand or to just shake it. Besides, with both hands of mine occupied holding something, I was also wondering how I could free one hand without wasting my water, since it was the most essential commodity for the long journey.

Having failed in my attempt to hold the waterskin with my mouth, I tried holding it between both knees, but that also did not work. Finally, I did what I detested and was trying to avoid, by laying both the water skin and the stuff on my shoulder to the ground since that was the only option available. Having cleaned my hands by wiping them over my shabby trousers, I said, Sorry, my lady.

With a tender smile, she said, It’s OK, Brother James.

I then held her hand with all the courage I could muster, and while I was going down on one knee to kiss her hand, she held me gently on the shoulder and said calmly, Don’t, Brother James. I am just a fellow human, a sister, and a friend.

That is very thoughtful and unbelievable coming from a person like you, I said.

Thank you, she replied with a smile.

My fascination with her flawless beauty and incandescent blue eyes got me totally overwhelmed, and my mind collapsed. She, sensing my difficulties, came to my rescue by putting her arm gently around my shoulder. As a result, I was more comfortable and managed to ask about the whereabouts of her bodyguards and how she got to know my name.

She smiled and then said, Surprised, are you?

Yes, I am, I said calmly.

Anyway, Brother James, she said, "from the top floor of my father’s building, and through one of the windows of my room, I was able to observe you for years, and as a result, I’ve known a lot about you and your family, your secret hideouts in the wild forests, and even the motive behind this secret journey you’re undertaking.

And to tell you the truth, she added, you are the reason for my being here alone for the past few hours, without any bodyguards with me.

Me? I exclaimed. For what reason, my lady?

Don’t be alarmed, my friend, she said calmly. My intention for coming to meet you here alone is to offer you some assistance.

Please, my lady, don’t get me more confused, which, in fact, I already am, I said frankly. What do you want from me?

Brother James, she said serenely, having taken into consideration the immense challenges you’ve suffered at the hands of your family and neighbors, I believe the idea of going to the kingdom of Molugu for a safe haven and greener pastures is not worth the harsh conditions that come with it. Then she added, Isn’t your life more precious and priceless than the conditions in the kingdom of Molugu.

Deeply overwhelmed by her words, the empty barrels of my eyes were quickly filled with tears despite all efforts to restrain them. I bowed my head down and closed my eyes so the young lady wouldn’t notice what was going on. When I opened my eyes after a few minutes, I discovered that I’d already wet her footwear with my tears.

Feeling embarrassed that I hadn’t been able to hide my emotions any longer, I apologized. As my hands reached out to the frail ends of my shabby shirt, to wipe the tears off my face, she held my hands midway and offered me a handkerchief instead.

Without allowing me to thank her, she grabbed me gracefully by the shoulder, and being unmindful of my odor and sweat and even the shabby clothes on me, she drew me to her bosom.

This was the very first time a lady had hugged me or drawn me to her bosom. I couldn’t believe what I felt—oh my, oh my! It was as though torrents of strength and warmth were surging through her; I felt revived and my heart felt at peace. While my head was still on her shoulder, she said, Brother James, I need you to understand that I’m not here to harm but care for you, for that has been my desire for you since the first day I saw you, when we were but little children.

Frankly speaking, I said, I also felt an unusual attraction toward you the first time I saw you, but…

Our differences in culture and traditions didn’t give us the chance to meet, she concluded for me.

Yes, my lady, you’re right, I confirmed.

Brother James, now that you’re counted as a public enemy by your family and community because of your antagonism toward their rituals and culture, she said, would you mind if I offer you another home and family?

Another home and family? I repeated softly. Stunned by her words, I withdrew myself from her bosom. I decided not to do anything awkward but to answer, No, I wouldn’t mind.

That’s a wise decision, my friend, she said with a smile. And I want to assure you that this new home and family will make you a great man and give you a great name.

I hope so, my lady, I said.

She opened her purse, took out a piece of scroll, inked her signature on it, and then gave it to me after having explained the directions to her second home for me that were on the scroll. She asked me to give it to the security at the gate upon my arrival; she would soon join me. She then waved good-bye and headed back to the village.

Pondering over the whole issue moments after she was out of sight, I was torn between doubt and certainty over the encounter I had with her. Apart from her offer, I thought it humanly impossible for her to walk alone in such an isolated and dangerous place without her bodyguards or horse. Also, the name James wasn’t my real name but a new name I had adopted a few moments ago for myself for the purpose of the journey, and since no man had been there or followed me when I had whispered to that palm tree on the road that, from today, my name shall be James, where had she gotten it, and who told her since palm trees had no mouths to talk?

Since I knew that palm trees did not talk, I then thought it might perhaps have been a dream or hallucination since I hadn’t slept well for the past three days out of fear of being caught while I was asleep and butchered for rituals. But upon seeing the piece of scroll in my hands, my thoughts were awakened, recalling the warnings and prophecy of the fetish priest. I became frightened and decided to ignored her offer, but after having taken a few steps, I asked myself, What do I have to lose? Should I give it a try, after all? I can still go back to the kingdom of Molugu should her place turn out to be an illusion or disappointment.