Chapter 4 RESOLUTION

FOUR

The king's chamber was calm, the flutist blows his flute vigorously, and the king was motionless, striding up and down with thoughts going through his mind. His two attendants, Dimgba and Ekwe, looked troubled, glancing at every step or movement he made as he fidgeted.

I shall go any extra mile to see that my son is married and happy once more even if it is besmirch the tradition for through him I shall always be remembered. Your Highness allowing the young man to marry any women of his choice will be a great idea' Ekwe suggested. The king fiddled and trembled as he sat on his throne, No!, I can't watch my son die in sullen silence because of tradition, something must be done, Yes! There is nothing else to be done; we are left with no option than to follow the tradition, Dimgba interjected. Cease your foolish talk Dimgba, you had never for once contributed a reasonable thing all you know is tradition, tradition!, he barked and suddenly calms down' this girl has really captured my son, when the sweetness of a woman touches the heart of a man, nothing else matters. This girl has done it to my son, he contemplated kept quiet and pondered a while staring at nothing in particular then he adjusted his seat and proclaimed "He is now free to marry any woman of his choice, Dimgba stared shockingly. Your Highness please act with good sense, you are besmirching the tradition.

Getting fed up he taunted; Dimgba you should go and live with people of your character, a man should be a friend who is like him I have made my decision and will not rescind from it. The abomination all you people commit in this village will lie on your heads, may the spirit of our forefathers forgive your offences against our tradition as he speaks his countenance becomes fierce, he spoke deliberately in a high trembling tone. He scampered away but not with a bowed head.

Dimgba should leave us, he is too strict and is a man of hard-fact, he scorned. The wind grew in intensity, dust and light particles floated on the sky while the hens covered their restless chicks with their feathers, the trees moaned and shrieked while some clasped their branches bending till the branches nearly touched the ground. The sky looked cloudless, the clans were at their huts, waiting in anticipation for the wind to subdue and the rain to fall, for they have waited and prayed earnestly for the rain, the rain also marks the beginning of the cultivation of their new crops. Some peeped from the small windows of their hut, reading the sky and to watch the riot of the years' first rain.

Oboh who was heavily convinced that it was going to rain, sat on the floor of his chamber with a short-wooden knife, between heaps of yams, trimming and slicing them into planting sizes, picking out those that were unfit to be planted, each yam seedlings has a spud to enable its germination, he had however planned to plant them tomorrow if the rain would fall, the flickering fire from his antiquated hurricane lamp danced to his feet

Finally, the sky darkened, a glimmering of light shone like the evening sun. The thunder gave its loud roar and died, instantly there were drizzling. Soon, a sharp and dry bark of thunder broke into the atmosphere the rain escalates, the children ran out from their mother's hut, roaming around the compound naked and singing to the rain, the rain thrashed them hardly, they screamed. There was a bit of undiluted smile in their mouth then the infection of laughter touched them, they roared with it, the thrashings of the rain made them laugh the more and their singing crescendo.

Oboh looked at them and smiled, he had for once envied them. The thunder gave out another bolt, his flickering fire produced smokes, when the wind blows towards it , it went off and the chamber became blank.

Nwoye sat near the window, listening to the patter of the rain on the roof and watching the drops of the rain as fell and joined the slow moving flood. He had recalled what Ekenma had told him about her ordeals with the prince. To force Ekenma into marriage with the prince was no longer a balk work for Mazi Ochia as long as he receives cowries from the prince, even if it is to tie and carry her to the palace or whipped along the way, he is willing and able to do it. Nwoye would sometimes, heard Mazi Ochia, scolding Ekenma to stop flattering with him.

"Are they indeed flattering?" he thought. "Now the prince will come, marrying you in no time now, it would not be proper for him to see you and Nwoye together, that will be a slap on his face and that day I will cut off your legs", he squeaked. The mother watched them with resisting authority, not to interfere.

"The prince is impregnable in this matter", he muttered to himself. "Let the moon turn into blood, and the rain become fire, Ekenma would still be with Nwoye. Ekenma had recently told him, he adjusted his seat and whispered, 'without Ekenma, I am fragile like a newly born baby disarmed and naked in the face of perils of life. Life has no meaning, I am lost in an alien world not knowing where to go',

The ground were mouldy, pieces of water pots and leaves were left by the rain scattered the people awoke having much work to do; they have to clean up the packed heap of dirt, gathered by the rain. The men have to build up the collapsed fences and to check how it is with the farm, the women are left with their daughters to clean up the compounds and do other domestic work.

At the farm, few of the villagers were busy making hedges and mounds for the cultivation of their crops; they prepare the mounds early so as to plant their crops early too, to avoid the rain washing away the seeds or crops by the time they must have fully entered into raining season. The early farmers always have bumper harvest and profit, they forges ahead day after day enduring long hours of strenuous work, a lot of energy was exerted in this exercise.

Oboh exmained his already planted yams, staking the lengthy vines that have started wandering in the farms and uprooting the weeds growing in the mounds. He also planted his new yam seedlings.

By the time he finished his works, it was well in the evening and was now very hungry and very apprehensive of going home to have his lunch. He struggled to stand erect with one hand on the hip when he was fully erect, he spuned around, straightening his waist and body parts, he hung his hoe on his shoulder in attempt to leave, he took a glance of Nze from afar, coming out from a small tent, he beckoned on him, when he approached, they exchanged greetings.

"Nze", he exclaimed delightedly. "You are hardly seen these days, are you alright?" "I am, just that I have been busy", still beaming with smiles, he asked, "I saw you coming out from that tent", he pointed at the direction. "Yes", Nze interrupted. That is where we usually gather to teach the gospel; I have learnt so many things from those missionaries". "Ooh, no wonder you have been sounding strange". "Truly, their God do exist and have been doing many miracles". The people said, "That their God is a blasphemous God, blaspheming against our gods and that they have also come to change our beliefs". "When will our people learn to accept and believe that those missionaries God are indeed a true God"? "You are right", he pondered, coming eager he crooned, "I am beginning to see meanings in their teachings and besides, don't you know that our people despise such things". "Oboh, if not that I want to take the Ozor title, I would have joined their newly opened school in Achi but I wouldn't like the king to see me or else he will deprive me of my rights and the title". "The same with me, if not that I want to be the next Ezeji, I would have joined them for a long time now".

The two talked on till they reached the road, leading to their way home. They departed, bidding each other goodbye.