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Beside the Still Waters
Beside the Still Waters
Beside the Still Waters
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Beside the Still Waters

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A frame story, By the Still Waters is ultimately the story of post- colonial Nigeria recapitulated in the struggles of a brave teenage girl, not only to salvage her broken dreams from her country’s smoldering ruins, but also to rebuild the dreams of her country women.
“Udo”, the heroine of By the Still Waters means “Peace” in English language. But far from what her name connotes and contrary to her long held dreams of good life and the aspiration and hopes of her loving parents, something apposite and quite sinister stood between her and the attainment of the well-intended plans and expectations. The tyranny of repressive values; fortune’s double cast, indifferent and wicked relations and the mother of them all, the aged village Chief who was forced on her as a suitor made something to snap in her. She simply took to flight. To where? Indeed, no contemplation!
Being under aged, inexperienced and disadvantaged, her various adventures and wanderings actually took her through thick and thin and balanced her precariously for some time on the edge of doom! But guided by virtue, good family upbringing, will to succeed against all odds, and to a greater or lesser extent, faith in God, she not only succeeded in securing the sound education and training she had desired, the security of a home she missed, and the love of her life she yearned for all the while; but also the happy re-union with her family, minus her father.
She had swum in massive waves of oppression for some time, and emerged a survivor from the raging depths of tumultuous existence. Now, Freedom’s Voice for women trapped in the hard places of life, she continues her walk quietly beside the still waters of life!
LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 31, 2020
ISBN9781489726933
Beside the Still Waters
Author

Gladys Ijeoma Akunna

REVIEW BY EMILLE BRYANT Dr. Gladys Akunna adds her powerful voice to the unfolding story of the displaced and despised people now called African-Americans. She shares the story of a wonderful young woman, gifted with talent beyond her birthplace. Because she recognizes her talent as a way out of the neighborhood and condition that surrounded her youth, she navigates life with eyes both open and closed. Her journey takes her through the history, challenges and triumphs of Black people in America, a nation who reveres their art yet hates their presence. Looking back at a life that pushed her to an emotional breaking point before she became a legendary performer, Jemima’s childhood memories challenged her faith and became the genesis of many conflicts throughout her youth. In college, she became an activist, leading rallies that recalled America’s tumultuous civil rights era, where she began learning about her roots: Africa, the Middle Passage, and the hate and hope borne of slavery. Jemima’s story winds into a romance offering her a renewed faith and restore both her soul and that of her turbulent, beloved nation. Emille Bryant Author of Start With A Sparkle President, go:IKIGAI LLC

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    Beside the Still Waters - Gladys Ijeoma Akunna

    CHAPTER ONE

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    I woke up suddenly with a start. For a brief moment, my eyes stared at nothing but the empty darkness. Gradually as my senses returned to the present, I became aware of my surroundings.

    I was lying on a big mat I shared with Ikenna, my brother, and Ezinne, my sister, in our tiny room. Even now, deep snores proceeded from the direction where they laid. I knew Ikenna was at it again; so, stretching out my hand I gently tapped him, speaking softly, ‘Ikenna sleep right’. At the gentle prodding of my voice, he stirred and gently rolled on his side.

    For a moment, everywhere became silent, except for slight movements and faint murmurs coming from the adjoining room at the end of the passage, which my father occupied. I knew mother was awake and attending to my father, who lately had become too ill to work on his own without the support of his wife.

    Indeed Mama had become Papa’s hand, feet, eyes … his everything! I wondered if she ever did anything than keeping watchful vigil at his bed and fussing over him all night long. Already traces of stress were beginning to mark her facial features, but she would not let anybody know how tired she was. She bore the burden of Papa’s illness quietly with dignity. If anything, her determination to show love and commitment to a man she intensely loved was all too visible for all to behold. Thinking about Mama thus, a proud smile lit up my face. And although, I did not know what she could be doing now, I knew it would be at the best interest of dear Papa.

    Then I realized I was beginning to witness a new day. Lifting up my heart in gratitude for this precious gift, I raised my eyes unto heaven and bowed my heart in deep reverence to the One who controls the affairs of the universe. I was confident of the support of Heaven and believed that Papa would become well soon – well enough to go to the farm with Ikenna, Ezinne and I, for I missed his fatherly presence when sometimes, we trekked the long lonely bush to our farm … Well enough to tell us beautiful stories at night as we gathered around the bright embers of burning wood while Mama prepared delicious meals which mouth-watering aroma pervaded the air … Well enough to …

    My thoughts broke off as I heard footsteps approaching. Looking around, I was surprised to find that daylight had crept in. How time flies, I thought, relishing the sweetness of my cherished memories.

    Flickering light from a bush lamp appeared at the doorway borne by a woman of average height, stout and shapely. A tired but sweet smile creased Mama’s beautiful face on seeing me already awake.

    ‘Good morning Mama,’ I greeted cheerfully. ‘Did you sleep well?’

    ‘Oh’, it was a good night’, she answered, evading my question. ‘And, what about you?’, she further probed.

    ‘I slept fine’, I replied, yawning and stretching my limbs. ‘How is Papa today?’

    A tiny frown momentarily crossed Mama’s face and disappeared almost immediately.

    ‘He was much in pains for the better part of the night, so he could not sleep well.’

    I was sorry. Mama was quick to notice this sudden change of mood. ‘You don’t have to be so miserable, my little girl. He is picking up already’.

    I jumped up happily. Mama knew I was heading straight for Papa’s room, so she added with a caution – ‘I know you are going to see him, but please be careful. Don’t rouse him from his sleep.’

    ‘I won’t Mama,’ I answered. Beaming with smiles, I left the room, while Mama stayed behind to wake Ikenna and Ezinne.

    I walked through the living room past Mama’s room along the narrow passage, which terminated at Papa’s room. At the door, I hesitated a while before entering.

    The room, a much bigger one than ours, was dimly lit. My eyes took in the room with one sweeping gaze. A low bed made from strong wood stuffed with soft grasses and old pieces of clothing for a mattress and covered with a big clean sheet stood at the extreme right corner of the room. On it, Papa laid, gently sleeping. A small table, which housed various bottles containing assorted medicinal herbs, with a low stool was placed beside the bed facing him. At the other side, household items like a hunting bow and arrows and bags darkened with age, containing some cherished family heirlooms hung on the wall, together with Papa’s clothing.

    My gaze returned to Papa and I quickened my steps towards his bedside. The soft glow of the light cast on it and gave him a hollow look. I stared at his thin and pale face and my eyes welled with tears against my wish. Beads of sweat clung to the thick brow of his once radiantly robust and comely face. For a brief moment, I yearned to see his eyes flicker but this proved only a wish. Papa did not stir, for he was deeply asleep. I was at once happy to see him so peacefully resting. And though I felt the urge to stoop down and touch him, remembering Mama’s words of caution, I turned and silently left the room.

    In my room, Mama was passing instructions to Ikenna, ‘Are you fully awake now?’, ‘C’mon say your prayers. It is morning already’.

    I stood at the doorway listening. I could not help smiling at Mama’s obvious frustration, for Ikenna was a deep sleeper.

    ‘Ikenna, hurry up I say. Get up and wash your face. You don’t have all the day to yourself’, she continued. By now Ikenna was up on the mat and murmuring his prayers. As soon as he finished, he looked up and greeted Mama.

    ‘Hurry, get ready and go to your uncle, Chielo’s house before he leaves for his farm. Tell him that your father wishes to see him as soon as he returns from the farm today’.

    ‘Yes Ma’, Ikenna replied vigorously wiping his eyes with the back of his palm, ostensibly to shake off the last trace of sleep. Mama turned to speak to Ezinne who was already rolling up the sleeping mat. Ikenna sluggishly left the room greeting me at the door.

    ‘Ezinne, sweep the kitchen and boil some hot water for me. Also, help Ikenna to sweep the compound today. It may be long before he returns from Chielo’s house. Do you understand?’ she queried.

    ‘Yes, Ma!’

    Mama turned to leave the room. ‘Thank God papa is sleeping so soundly,’ I remarked, stepping into the room to make way for her to pass.

    ‘Yes, it’s so refreshing. Certainly, it’s a good to sign,’ Mama replied shrugging her shoulders. ‘I am sure he’ll fully recover very soon’, said I optimistically, searching her face for any trace of disillusionment. In its stead, I discovered that her tired eyes beamed with hope. On closer scrutiny, I noticed she had lost some weight. Instinctively, I reached out for her hands and squeezed them tenderly. I felt her relax.

    ‘Mama, do you know what I want you to do now?’ she shook her head chuckling softly.

    ‘What my dear?’

    ‘I want you to try to catch some sleep. Wouldn’t you?’

    ‘It’s daybreak already,’ she interrupted, shaking her head in protest, ‘and the whole world is coming alive with activities. So, why should I act differently?’

    ‘Because the world we live in thrives on variety. Besides that,’ I continued,

    ‘You look tired, Mama, admit it. You sure need some rest’.

    ‘I am in support of Udo in this matter Mama’, Ezinne offered, joining the dialogue. ‘We want you to take a nap, no matter how short’.

    Mama watched us with a bemused face, but we would not yield any ground. Finally, throwing in the towel she said:

    ‘Alright my children, you have won. I shall retire briefly and take some rest’.

    ‘That’s better’, we chorused at the same time ushering her out of the room.

    CHAPTER TWO

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    The two women, with their water pots well balanced on their heads atop folded cloth pads, walked with graceful and elegant strides. Not too far behind them, I walked, also carrying mine. We were all on way from the village stream. As I drew closer to them, I could guess they were engaged in some sort of domestic conversation. At least, I could hear the younger of the two women; close to tears complain to her neighbor:

    ‘I am so confused … I don’t know what to do. I am so afraid to speak because I may earn his anger and beating’.

    ‘What else can you do? Can you stop him from taking a second wife?’

    ‘I wish I could but I can’t … because I don’t agree with his terms of having more children. ‘This one on my back,’ she said, nudging at the baby nestling on her back, ‘is my seventh child and I am tired.’

    ‘So, you have to accept your lot as I have already accepted mine. As women, we have to put up with a lot of things we don’t condone; but do we have any choice?’

    The other woman shook her head sadly. I was now close enough to see that she was crying. I could tell so because her voice quivered when she spoke.

    ‘This is … a … mis-miserable life … I wish I … I were dead.’

    ‘Don’t speak foolishly,’ cautioned the older woman. ‘You can find happiness in your situation no matter what.’

    ‘How do you mean?’

    ‘Look at your children … If you die, who would take care of them?’

    ‘Oh … I see’.

    I greeted them as I walked past , for they were women I knew.

    They answered my greeting and asked after my family. I replied that we were all fine and moved ahead. Walking on, I became troubled by their conversations. The sad voice of that young mother haunted me, even as I negotiated the bend that led to my home.

    At home, breakfast of corn porridge and fried bean cakes, prepared by Ezinne, and assisted by Mama, who was up from her nap, was almost ready. Ikenna was already dressed and ready for school. So, off I

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