Folashade sat at the back of the hut, washing the earthen pots her mistress instructed her to clean before her arrival. Soon, she was joined by Omolara, her newest friend among the slaves. The two girls greeted each other before Omolara settled down to work. She rinsed the pots as Folashade washed them.
“You
promised to tell me a story today, do you remember?” Omolara said, nudging her
friend in the ribs.
“You
never forget, do you?”
“What
else do we have to look forward to in this forsaken place? Please, make my day by
telling me an interesting one today. We won’t be able to do that once madam
comes now. Omolara, come here, Folashade, have you done today’s work,” Omolara
said in a voice surprisingly like her mistress’ own.
The
two friends collapsed against each other in laughter.
“Ok,
I will tell you one. Once upon a time when the people of Modakeke and Ife had
one of their numerous civil wars…”
***************************************************************************************************
The
overhead sun beat down on humanity with a vengeance, a reflection of what was
happening at the heart of the town. The entire place was on fire, filled with
chaos and terrible cries that haunted the souls of those that witnessed it. The
people scurried to hide, but the unfortunate ones bowed to the painful claws of
death.
The
tension had been building for days, with no one sure of the next move or when
all hell would break loose. It wasn’t the first of its kind, but war wasn’t
something anyone got used to. There had been skirmishes, a little clash here
and there, but nothing to lose a good night’s sleep over. However, this was a
different ball game; it was the real deal.
The
Modakeke warriors had threatened for several days without advancing into
Ile-Ife. It was the usual stunt to put everyone on edge. No one had given it
much thought. They had their headquarters at the town’s outskirts, the junction
between the two towns. The place was never left unguarded, especially in the
dead of the night when men slept. Both towns made sure of that. Some youths
always remained behind to keep watch over the towns to ensure they were never
caught unprepared. They would raise an alarm at the sight of any suspicious
activity. No one doubted their prowess. They made sure they stuck that down
everyone’s throat. Deep down, the villagers were very scared, but they
wouldn’t show it to one another, lest it became a sign of weakness. They hadn’t
expected this day so soon.
Although
the two towns hadn’t been on very good terms with each other for some years,
they had managed to put their differences aside for a while. However, some
foxes never let the vine rest. They thrived on the spoils of the battle,
mindless of the rising body counts. War was an advantage to them, no matter how
you looked at it. They prospered in their evil business when people mourned the
loss of families and properties.
Apart
from the toll of war on the environment, some families never made it out
together. The division of closely-knitted groups, factions, and families was
one of the dreaded consequences of the two villages having a clash. It wasn’t
uncommon to have both Ile-Ife and Modakeke citizens belonging to a group. An
Ife man could be married to a Modakeke woman and vice versa. Many of such
families suffered during communal unsettlement. Loyalties and friendships got
tested and proven during this period. Sometimes, the cord wouldn’t withstand
the pressure, leading to the severance of relationship and distrust. War wasn’t
fair.
Tife
and her husband, Tunde, belonged to this category. They were both from the
opposite ends of the pole. While Tife hailed from Modakeke, her husband was a
native of Ife. Theirs was a young marriage with a child of about three. Tife
carried the second in her womb. It was impossible to sleep given the
circumstances. She was advanced in her
condition, in the first month of her third trimester. Both husband and wife
often lay awake at night, listening to the chaos and shouts from neighbours
that had been caught. It increased Tife’s heartburn and distress. She knew it wasn’t
good for her child, but she couldn’t help.
It
was enough trouble that they weren’t of the same origin, having a child made it
worse, but the pregnancy was an entirely different issue. They were in a
precarious situation. An escape would have been easier if there were only two
of them to consider. However, they now had to consider Pelumi, their daughter,
and the unborn child. Tife was in a position she loathed.
Tunde
knew they couldn’t further delay their decision, or it was only a matter of
time before the warriors caught up with them. He didn’t want to risk staying in
Ife on the assumption that no one knew about his wife’s background. Tife and
his children meant the world to him. He wouldn’t survive should anything happen
to them. They weren’t sure if any of their neighbours knew their history.
Things like that could have slipped out during conversations before the war.
There were no friends during a war.
Tife
had seen with her very eyes how a Modakeke man married to an Ife woman got
burnt alive. When the wife tried to intervene, they pushed her into the fire
too and roasted the couple alive. It made Tife very anxious. The only reason
why she hadn’t lost it was that her husband reassured her every morning. She
also had her children to think about at every step of the way. It grieved her
heart to see Pelumi, her little girl, pass through such anguish. She prayed
that once everything settled, she would be able to erase the memories from her
head. She wouldn’t want her child to carry the scar and memories of war all
through her life. Some people say children only remember things that happened
to them from the age of five, but this case was different. It was a war! Three wasn’t
too young to start storing information away.
Tife
was sure that the volume of the hum had increased. The tempo of the eccentric
music fleetingly entering her ears was fast and threatening. It wasn’t like
that some moments ago. Within the space of five minutes, everything had taken
on an eerie turn. Soon, the fate of her family would become decided. It could
only spell one thing for them- doom. Tunde, her husband, went outside to check
out the situation of things. It was safe for him, but Tife still had her
doubts. They should steer clear of people. Someone might remember her on seeing
Tunde and say something. Nevertheless, they had to stay updated. If not, they
mightn’t make it out of the town alive.
Tunde
entered the room they had maintained since things became hot. The house itself
was a three-bedroom apartment, but they couldn’t afford to maintain separate
rooms for the fear of what could happen if one of them wasn’t around. They had
stopped going to work. They couldn’t when danger was imminent. He didn’t look
too happy at the news he bore. He wore a long face. That had been his new look
since the unrest started. Gently, Tife sat him on the bed. She was surprised at
herself. Here she was with her mind in turmoil and body in great distress, and
she was pretending to be the calm wife, who was never scared of situations that
broke even her husband. That was a big deal to her. Tunde wasn’t a coward. It
was one of the things that had endeared him to her. She remembered the good old
days. He would always protect her until it seemed as if he was possessive.
Nevertheless, she knew that he was only trying his best to care for her. If he didn’t
love her more than life itself, he would have given her up the way some of the
other husbands had let their wives up to the agitated warriors. She knew she
couldn’t plan an escape by herself with her attached baggage. So, Tunde’s love
kept her. She began to tenderly stroke his back.
“What
is it, my love?” Tife asked.
Tunde
sighed. He didn’t want to add to his wife’s distress, but there was no other
way.
“We
have to move tonight,” he tightly said.
Tife’s
hand stalled in the air. So, the long-awaited day has finally arrived. She couldn’t
stop the tears that flowed. Soundlessly, they formed a path down her face and
dropped onto her cloth. They would be leaving everything they had worked hard
to gather all their lives behind to start over again somewhere else if they
made it out alive. It would be hard for her. Tife thought of something and
faced Tunde.
“What
if you go without me?”
Tunde
became mad. He withdrew his hand from hers and began to pace. He didn’t reply
because he was sure that he would raise his voice. They couldn’t afford to
attract unnecessary attention to themselves.
“I
am sorry,” Tife whispered. Tunde nodded his acknowledgement and left her alone.
Tife
reached for her handkerchief and blew her nose into it. She steeled her mind in
preparation for their journey that night. The warriors would like to have her
roasted, but they would never get that pleasure. She wouldn’t bend to death.
She had a life ahead of her. She would live with her baby, Pelumi, and Tunde.
She expected a tortuous journey, but they would make it. She stood from the bed
and began to pack the essential items. It wasn’t possible to move a lot of
things. They would be too heavy and would hamper their movement. They would
have to think of ways to survive. She rolled the money they had into a cloth
bundle and kept it away. She had been knitting some unisex clothes for the baby
because she wasn’t sure of the gender. They had refused to go for a scan, and
since they enrolled in a private hospital, they had some influence in the
decision-making process. They wanted to surprise themselves with the birth of
their child. Now, they had many clothes, but she would have to leave all of
them behind. Tunde joined her in putting things away after he was calm. None of
them spoke about the incident again. It was a discussion for another day. All
they needed to do at that time was to prepare for their journey and grab some
sleep.
The
shouts and screams conveyed a deep message to the escaping couple. The warriors
and youths were on and about their destructive works, waiting for the cover of
the night to catch their unsuspecting targets. The indigenes and non-indigenes
alike cowered in their houses, afraid of what the next second held for them.
Tife shivered in fear, praying for the courage to finish what they had started.
Tunde
led his family away from the place they had regarded as home for some years
now. They quietly made their way through the night, afraid to use a torch to
avoid drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. The lights from houses going
up in flames provided sufficient illumination for them. Tife gave their house
one last look and sighed in anguish as the building went up in flames. They had
fled at the right time. It shook her to the core to know that they could have
been in that house, burning up with no help had they stayed a minute longer in
it. She felt her husband’s hands on her shoulder, his way of showing support.
Without any spoken word, they made their way through the bush.
They
only had a sketch of an escape plan. They lived at Olonade, an area not too far
away from the University of Ile-Ife. The war was hot in that area, but it wasn’t
anything compared to what went down at Lagere, Mayfair, and the hinterlands of
the town. They counted on the warriors' attention focused on those places. It
was the only chance they had. Once in the safety of the school, they would make
their way to Tonkere, about eight kilometres away. It would be a tortuous
journey, but it was either that or waiting for death to find them in the town.
They could go through the second gate, but that would be walking into an open
trap. If they escaped the school’s security officers, the warriors likely to be
on patrol wouldn’t miss them.
The
fence surrounding the school wasn’t a complete one. Tunde counted on a quick
location of where the fence ended. Then, they would go through the farmlands
until they located the road to Tonkere. He only had an idea of the road, dating
back to several years back when his father owned a farm along that route. He
desperately counted on his memory to save them from this ordeal. Tonkere would
be the safe haven for them as nobody would trace them there. Once in the
village, he would start all over again, going back to the farm to provide for
his family.
Tife's
back hurt. The pain was sharp and intense, but distracting Tunde now was the
last thing on her mind. He carried Pelumi and some of the necessities they had
managed to pack. They had explained to their young child as much as they could
the dire nature of the unfortunate circumstances they were in. The little girl,
wiser than her age, had cooperated with them as much as possible. Now, Tunde
put her down to take a leak, while Tife looked for a tree to rest her hurting
back.
Pelumi
was fast with her business and soon, they were back on the journey. Suddenly,
Tife felt a sharp pain on her right ankle. She let out a scream before she
could stop herself. For a moment, everyone froze in their tracks. There was no
escape for them if there were warriors nearby. Quickly but stealthily, Tunde
moved near his wife.
“What
happened?” He asked in a hurried but hushed tone.
“My
leg, I am in pain. Something bit me,” Tife replied.
Tunde
had no choice but to use the torch. Guarding the beam of light, he checked
Tife’s leg. This was bad! Just when they were almost at the end of the fence,
this had to happen.
“What
is it?”Tife asked, sounding faint even to her ears.
“It’s
a snake bite. I am going to use a cloth to tie it and hope the poison doesn’t
spread until we are inside the school. Please, stay with me, Tife,” Tunde
replied in a rush. Every trace of calmness was gone from his voice. He found a piece of cloth inside one of the bags, tied
her ankle, and then proceeded to make an incision around the wound area. He had
seen this done many times but never tried it. Tunde hoped it worked, for the
sake of his wife’s life. Tife clenched her teeth against the pain, afraid to
call anyone's attention in case they had been missed the first time.
They had a new struggle on their hands. Being pregnant and
bitten by a snake didn’t make Tife’s movement easy. She shuffled, creating a
rustle as she treaded on the dry leaves and twigs. Tunde tried supporting her,
but it wasn’t an easy task carrying a child, bags, and helping a pregnant
woman. He took refuge in knowing that the end of the fence was in view, and
they would get to safety soon. The warriors had stayed off the school grounds
so far, and Tunde counted on it remaining that way.
Suddenly, a bright light shone their way, catching them right in
the face. The couple stood still, like a deer caught in the headlight of a
car.
“Èyin wo nu (Who
are those)?” The young and mean-looking warrior asked.
The couple, scared to the roots of their hairs, stood
transfixed, unable to answer him.
“Se eti yin
di ni? Mo ni eyin wo nu? (Are you deaf? I said who are
those?)” The warrior repeated.
Tunde, hoping to appeal to the man’s compassionate side since he
was the only one, moved closer to him.
“Gbe ese kan si ki ogun pa o (Take another step and
let the Ogun kill you),” the young man threatened.
Tunde went on his knees. “E
jo, mo n be yin ni . Mi o ba ja wa. Mo fe koja pelu iyawo mi ni. Mo n be yin
ni, e jo, baba mi. (Please, I am begging you. I have come in
peace. I want to pass with my wife. My father, I am begging you).
Another warrior struggling with the drawstrings of his trouser
emerged from the bush. He paused on seeing the strange faces in front of him,
his eyes quickly scanning over Tunde.
“Àwòn wa ti gbe eran nla (Our net has caught
big meat),” the newcomer said with an evil grin plastered on his face.
The other warrior laughed at the words of his partner, his
softening countenance hardening up at the entry of his partner. Beefed up by
his friend, they snatched the bags in Tunde’s hands, commanded him to lie down,
and went through everything, taking what they liked. Not satisfied with what
they had done, the new warrior moved over to where Tife stood.
“Eran gidi leleyii (This is good meat),” he said, checking
out a trembling Tife.
“E jo, mo be yin ni. E mu gbogbo nkan te fe sugbon e jo, e ma
f’owo kan iyawo mi (Please, I am begging you. Take everything you want, but please,
don't touch my wife).”
The warrior beckoned to the other man to hold Tife down for him.
Tunde, seeing and rightly interpreting the man’s actions, rose up to defend his
wife. He didn’t make it. The shot rang out, chilling Tife to the bones. Tunde’s
lifeless body slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Dragging and forcing Tife to the floor, the warrior forcefully
ate of her womanhood. She cried out with each thrust, one cry louder than the
other. The warrior’s laughter rang out in the night, enjoying the pleasure he
got from his victim’s pain.
“Ah!
The evil that men do,” Omolara exclaimed.
“Yes.
The heart of every man is wicked that no one can know it, but incidents project
them from the core of the heart. One of such is war. Brothers betray brothers,
and men prey on one another. As they say, all is fair in love and war,” Folashade
replied.
“But
you didn’t finish the story. What happened afterwards?”
“I
know. Tife was left to fend for herself after the assault on her body. Nobody
knows whether she made it or not? As for the little Pelumi, she is sitting
right in front of you. Our mistress changed my name to Folashade when she
bought me at the age of seven.”
The
tears came soon after then. She had been three years old, and for eighteen
years, she had carried the memories with her. Everyone knows the beginning of
any war, but no one can predict its end or outcome.
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