"ALMOST BURIED ALIVE " (A Novel) full length

 

ALMOST BURIED

         ALIVE

 

    

GIAYEETOR DUMBARI PATAH

For my wife, Gift Dumbari Giayeetor 

And my five children:

Excellence 

Wonderful 

Faithfulness 

Destiny 

Shalom.

Peace Be To Them.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

For the spur to ascend to the highest heights in education, sincere thanks to my father, Pastor Paul Patah Giayeetor and my late mother, Deaconess Rose Baritunee Giayeetor. As for the latter, may her soul rest in peace.

Thanks to all my lecturers at the University of Port Harcourt, Abia State University, Uturu and the National Teachers Institute, Kaduna.

My wife’s prayers, encouragement and support saw me through in writing this book and indeed my academic journey. God bless her.

   CHAPTER ONE

            Kpaabee, a Gokana-speaking community situated within the Niger Delta region of Nigeria, has known peace and tranquility from time immemorial. Indolence is abhorred while hard work is celebrated. All forms of social vices are jettisoned. The mainstay of her economy is fishing and farming. Though the land is not so fertile, it sustains the people. They live their lives.

          Every normal life expected of a local community was well displayed in Kpaabee before the discovery of oil and its exploitation.

          Five days make up the Gokana week – Dee Zua, Dee Khiōōr, Dee Kor, Dee Maa, and Dee Bom. Dee Bom is the market day for the Kpaabee community. Different communities choose different days as their own market days. For Kpaabee, the rest of the days, are the work days, which the people go for farming and fishing. On Deebom, they sit at home. The women go to the market and upon their return, prepare delicacies for their families.

         Before the discovery of oil and its exploitation, which later became the bane of the Kpaabee people, on Deebom, many school children played truancy. They loved to stay at home and enjoy, to their fullest satisfaction, the delicacies prepared by their mothers.

          It was a common assertion by the Kpaabee people that many women took in on Deebom.  Since women  did not go to farm or fishing on that day, they had time to take care of themselves – plait their hairs, wear good clothes, make up, visit friends and prepare good food. Many husbands, despite their tight life schedules, yearned for Deebom. They enjoyed the day with their families and peers.

Social activities, ceremonies, meetings etc were scheduled on Deebom too. In fact, the community was always lively on that day.

          Drunkards, too, made the day a special one. They formed themselves into a group and called their group, “The Holy Eternal Universal Church of Saint Bottle,” having their ‘pastor’, ‘elders’, ‘deacons’ and other members, which formed the congregation. They would sing and beat their palm wine bottles wildly and melodiously too to different songs composed by themselves, the bulk bothering on palm wine.

          Their ‘pastor’, an overtly knock-kneed, humorously pot-bellied, heavily-bearded  octogenarian, Ntete Ngbogim, would lead grimly:

                  “Do not pull the ladder Oooooo   (2 times)

                   After you might have climbed up Uoooo

                   Because some people may use it Oo 

                   Or yourself,

                   You may use it again 

                   On your way of coming down O (3 times). 

The rest would echo:

                  I yaaaaa!

He would raise the second stanza:

                   The world we are Oooooo!  (2 times)

                   Brother le,

                   This place we are O, 

                   Is a place of front and back Oooooo!

          After singing one song to the end, the ‘pastor’ would exclaim in rapture:

“God bless palm wine!”

The rest would echo thunderously: 

“And the people that tap it too, amen”.

          They had perfectly studied how the church sang and observed that they did so in various parts – treble, alto, tenor and bass. They had composed their anthem which they normally sang midway to being tipsy. They called it, the “The Spiritual Anthem of the Holy Eternal Universal Church of Saint Bottle.” While standing at attention as school children do while singing their national anthem, they would ecstatically sing with utmost passion and with every amount of sobriety and solemnity too:

                                “O God bless palm wine,

                                 And the people that tap it too;   

                                 When I drink, Lord of Heaven,

                                 Don’t make me drunk;

                                 If I get drunk,

                                 Don’t make me stagger;

                                 If I stagger,

                                 Don’t make me fall;

                                 If I fall,

                                 Don’t make me get injured;

                                 If I get injured,

                                 Don’t make it worse;

                              

                                 If it gets worse,                   

                                 Don’t make me die;

                                 If I die, Lord of Heaven,

                                 Receive my soul at last;

                                 Woman is good,

                                 Money is better,

                                 But palm wine is the best.

                                 You can take the world,

                                 You can even take away my clothes,

                                 But, please, don’t take away my bottle.

                                    I will live for palm wine,

                                    I will die for palm wine,

                                    I will rise again for palm wine.

                                   O God bless palm wine,

                                   And the people that tap it too,

                                   Aaa-----meeeeeennn! 

                                   Aaa------meeeennnn!

                                   Aaa------meeeennnn!

                                   Aaa------meeeennnn!

          Despite the fact that they sang and got drunk, they sang melodiously too. There is no gainsaying the fact that this miniature group mesmerized Kpaabee with their bizarre renditions. 

          What they lacked in formal education, they had in utmost dedication to palm wine. What also they lacked in tidiness, they had in perfect voice pitch and parts and instruments synchronisation. What Mammon could not vouchsafe this daring group of seventeen members, God gave them in an unprecedented cooperation, camaraderie and awe-inspiring fellowship.

          “Now is time for General Offering,” the ‘Presiding Elder’ would announce. 

“Deacon Kookpa Nnooga, give us a chorus.”

 As an intro, Deacon Kookpa Nnooga, seeking corroboration would exclaim ebulliently:

“Henceforth, take not only water…”

The rest would interject joyfully:

“But a little wine too for the stomach sake. Amen!”

          Thus said, they would exhibit every kind of jubilation and thereafter, take their various musical instruments which included but not limited to pot drums, pallets, xylophone, congas, metal gong, wooden gong, local trumpets, gourds etc. Being set, he would lead.

During the early years of the Paramount Ruler, HRH, Chief Johnson Monsigiaa Kobaatogo, he organized palm wine drinking competition. All the palm wine tappers of Kpaabee community were mandated to release three jars of palm wine each, which were fully paid for by the Paramount Ruler. All together, there were twenty four jars from eight different palm wine tappers.

          Their ‘Pastor’, Ntete Ngbogim, to everyone’s surprise, finished three and a half jars to clinch the first prize – two parcels of farmland for two farming seasons while Pakpor Ndorbu, the ‘Presiding Elder,’ finished three and one quarter jars to clinch the second prize – a parcel of farmland for two farming seasons. People called them ‘drums,’ for they only staggered and spoke in tongues unintelligible to the common Kpaabee people but did not fall.

          Churches mostly kept their activities especially fasting, choir practices and meetings on Deebom too. Marriages and other social activities that the organizers wanted many people in attendance were usually scheduled on Deebom. Attendance to functions scheduled on farming days was usually very skeletal. Once, Nfeeghelo Dube scheduled the marriage of his daughter, Barifaa, on Deezua. The attendance was so skeletal to the extent that he felt that people hated him.

         Just as the community was lively and extremely interesting on Deebom, so were the farmlands and fishing ports on the other days.

Women, in groups, went to ferment cassava at Vuru Vuru. They would process it into fufu, after it had fermented.

          “Nda Koo, a zira,” they would exchange morning pleasantries with one another until they reached Vuru Vuru, the fermenting site designated by the Kpaabee community. They would put stones, leaves, twigs, sticks or other materials with which they would be able to identify their cassava bags on the spot where they deposited their bags. They would attach a big stone to the bag or tie it with a peg or stick hit into the ground to prevent the deposited bag from drifting away by the tide.

          After they had succeeded in doing that, they would enter the mud and pick periwinkles, clams, oyster, mussels and other shell creatures. They would normally check the mangroves to be sure that Ntoor bee guru – Mangrove Snake (Boiga dendrophila) was not in the vicinity. If they saw one, they would, in the manner and mien of the Gokana-speaking women, yell:

“Vii – vii – ii!     Vuu – ruu –uuh! Ntoor bee guru e! Ntoor bee guru e!”

          Ntoor bee guru is known to be friendly and non-hostile. However, the women, in the manner of women, would scream for help until the animal would either escape to a nearby thicket, or the men would come to their aid and scare it away. They rarely killed it.

          Some industrious women picked as much as one basin; others, half. Some, too, though depending on the availability of the periwinkles within that vicinity at that particular time, and also on whether or not, some other women had earlier entered there that day to pick the creatures, would pick as little as a plateful.

          They would cut the periwinkles and use them to prepare their delicacies. However, they preferred using them to prepare Muulo Ntiatuu – a soup prepared by removing as many periwinkles as possible from their shells and then using them to prepare the soup. Muulo Ntiatuu was normally prepared on Deebom, when the women had time for themselves.

          While the women were picking periwinkles at the fishing ports, their children too, excited by the large number of children around, played, picked shell fishes and at the end would play hide-and-seek games in the brackish water, yelling:

                          “Agba ee!             Ee ee!

                           Bobi ee!              Ee ee!

                           Kpala ee!             Ee ee!

                           Koi-koi ee!           Ee ee!

                           Nda adu ee!           Du e!”   

They would run and wade in the water to catch the others. Once caught, the caught person would sing the song while the others would echo and he or she would run until he caught another child and the game continued until the children were tired. Then they would go home.

          Agba, Bobi, Kpala, Koikoi, are Gokana names given to various species of crab. In the song, the children were informing the various crab species that they were coming.

          The bigger boys left picking shell fishes except crabs in the hands of women, girls and smaller boys. Many had learnt how to catch crabs even without using hand gloves. They even knew the holes of each of the crab species – Koorlor, Nzaizai, Nkorba-m, Tui, Nkoo Koo, Ga, ee ba etc. Not only that, they knew the male as well the female of each specie.

          They knew the empty holes and the holes very likely to be inhabited by Ntoor bee guru or any other snake. They used a combination of different skills like echo sounding, observation of the holes and their immediate surroundings, using stick and some times, fire and water, to determine the occupant of each hole.

          Some boys caught as many as fifty of those giant ones. Some caught thirty, twenty, ten etc. They also caught mudskippers on the mud. They knew their holes and how to prevent them from escaping through other outlets once they had scared them into their holes. After scaring them into their holes,  they would cover all the holes with mud. Then they would open each hole and bring them out one after the other. Oh, how sweet mudskipper tasted and when the dried ones were used with Muulo Kposa-ep (Pounded leaf Soup), the experience was simply “hulalacious!”

          The men left mud fishing in the hands of women and children. They went into the creek waters mostly with net and canoe to catch fleshy fishes of different species and genii – Kpao (Tilapia), Sunu, Kordo, Nyorno, Bari, Giaa Nsaana, Kop, Oro (Crayfish),   Ndoro, Bui etc.

          They usually preferred fishing on sunny days to cloudy or rainy days. On sunny days, the water was clearer and they could easily see the fishes. Besides, they did not feel cold. Many, on such days, went fishing with their radios. Some even went with recorded music and radio cassette players. Many fishermen preferred the High Life music; some, traditional recorded music like those of the Nserele, Amanikpo, Gere gere, Nkoo cults etc.

          When they were back, they would give the catch to their wives to sell at the local and neighbouring markets. Some that caught much fish sometimes took theirs to Ki Bangha (Gokana Central) Market. Life was happy to live.

          Farming, too, was done with so much enthusiasm. The topmost crops planted were yam, cassava, plantain, maize, garden egg, tomato, pepper, okra, pumpkin, melon etc. The men did the clearing with machetes and spades and planted the yams while the women planted the other crops after the men had cleared the land. 

          Yam was the number one crop planted, followed by cassava and cocoyam. After about two months from the planting date, the women did the first weeding and after about two months from then, they did the second. This would normally take other crops to maturity except yam and cassava – the major crops. For these, they would need to do the third weeding if they wanted their crops to yield well.

          To improve the quality of the soil more, the people generally and variously made use of   farmyard manure, ashes from the kitchen, peels of yam, cassava and other organic household wastes. They also made use of the inorganic fertilizer especially the NPK and Urea.

                   

  

CHAPTER TWO

With these done, they were able to take care of themselves and their families. Except for the indolent, they had their stomachs filled. Their women looked healthy, robust and took the natural shape of true African women. Their men, too, were energetic and had the strength of men. Oil pollution caused many changes in Kpaabee.

          The people of Kpaabee community hold their land in high esteem. They try as much as possible to guard them securely and bequeath them to their posterity. When neighbouring communities encroach on their land, they first try dialogue to make them leave. If the dialogue fails, they have no other option but to engage in full-scale war against the intruders. This has been the norm. 

          They are not known to be trouble makers and at the same time, not lily-livered. The young men are organized into four groups under the general commandership of Koo kuru – a fierce-looking, energetic and war-like man. He had won many wrestling competitions and had many traditional titles deserving his great feat.

          The young men are trained in the art of war – dodging bullets; disarming an opponent; camouflaging; using the rifle, spear and machetes skillfully; retreating; advancing; courage; first aid treatment etc.

          The women, themselves, are not left out during war. They provide food for the ‘boys’ and take care of the children until they return. Upon victory being declared, they normally sing victorious songs and march round the community and even at the boundaries between them and the neighbouring communities of Kpooro, Bon Gor and Atuuma.

          If the intruder defeated that time were Kpooro, they would sing:

 “Dui Oo!  Dui Oo!  Dui Oo!                    Come Oo!  Come Oo!  Come Oo!

Me beere ba va lol!                                We have eaten them all!

Panvin Kpooro naa oro dá nu se?           Indigenes of Kpooro don’t hearken?  

Beere fe va lol!                                       We have killed them all!

          They do sing, dance, scorn and jeer. The ‘boys’ are usually in front and behind them, all fully armed and in war mood too. This acts as a warning to other communities, never to incur the wrath of Kpaabee, despite the glaring fact that they are peace-loving. 

          Oil was discovered in the community in 1969, two years after Oloibiri – the first area of oil discovery in Nigeria. Prospecting and subsequent drilling of oil commenced vigorously by Esdross Oil (Nig.) Limited.

          As days became months and months bled into years, the people of Kpaabee observed with dismay, that their land was becoming poorer in its fertility while the water bodies could no longer support their men to be breadwinners. The environment became polluted. The water bodies lost their aquatic organisms due to oil spillage and dumping of toxic wastes from the company. The land, crisscrossed by oil and gas pipelines, experienced oil pollution which renders many areas arid.

          The creek waters, which readily gave up their different creatures, refused to do so despite the art, vigor and skill which the fishermen employed in their trade. The sand and mud, which were the main centres of female and children fishing, were devoid of their precious shell creatures. They were all gone.   

          What did they see? – Crude oil floating on the water, turning everywhere black. The odour of spilled crude oil mixing with brackish  water and mud became so offensive. Even the harmless and shy Ntoor bee guru was nowhere to be seen again. They had gone into the woods apparently to look for their daily bread.

          Mama cried. Papa cried. Children cried. No one could console the other. Hunger and starvation became the order of the day. The land, which though was not so rich but was able to provide food for the Kpaabee people, no longer had the capacity to do so despite the skill and effort put into the farming by the people.

          Many parcels of land were soaked mercilessly by the crude oil. Worse more, the pieces of land not oil-soaked, tended to breathe the polluted air blowing around them. Where they produced five basins before, they started producing two. And where they were producing two basins before, they started producing none.

          Esdross Oil Limited paid deaf ears to the plight of the people. The worse was the health implications which the polluted environment caused. Natural gas was being flared into the atmosphere, causing several severe respiratory conditions. Worse still, toxic wastes from the company were being emptied into the Muu Nzorpiriko – the only source of drinking water to the people apart from well. Several new kinds of ailments were also reported throughout the community.

          To add to the plight of the people, at regular intervals, soot did descend on their houses, farmlands, waters etc. Even when they spread their clothes on the line, white clothes turned almost black before the clothes finally got dry. If they put their fingers into their noses, what did they see? – Soot; God-forsaken soot – an indication and a tell-tale sign that much more was in the lungs and much more too had assimilated into the tissues and organs of the body.

          Talking about the plight of the Kpaabee people, the worst tends to be the oil spillage. In fact, in one of their farmland zones called Bara Nkpekpee, situated along the Kpaabee – Obolo Road, crude oil had devastated the entire farmland zone to the extent that the possibility of land reclamation for agricultural purposes is almost perpetually zero.

          The site seems to be the worst oil spillage site in not only Gokana but also Ogoni as a whole. Several acres of farmland are rendered useless even till tomorrow – completely soaked by crude oil. There was a very great tear in the pipeline due to rust or tension or both. The company did not respond early in mending the tear or even ceasing the flow as a temporary respite. So, the flow went on for days and up to two weeks. No quantity of sand heaped on the ruptured pipe by the villagers could stop the oozing of the coveted oil. Before the end of the two weeks, every piece of land was oil-soaked. Every available trench was filled with crude oil. The worst was the extremely large excavation which was used to fill the Kira – Mogho Road during its construction. Crude oil filled the entire excavation to the brim. 

          In Kpaabee, people believe that crude oil possesses some spiritual powers. They are of the opinion that just as incense and burning the internal organs of fish and certain other creatures on fire drive away evil spirits, so does burning crude oil. Apart from that, they also used it to light up their compounds at nights since there was no electricity. Because of these two major uses, they always sent their children to go fetch the spilled oil from the excavation. 

          The excavation was deep and the sides steep. People always fetched from the not-too-steep sides which was less risky. One day, something happened. Two girls were sent by their parents to go fetch the oil. They had successfully done the fetching with the twenty-litre cans that they both carried. Their doom came when they wanted to lift the cans onto their heads for onward transmission to their homes.

          The first girl had successfully helped the second by lifting hers onto her head. It was now time for the second to help the first too. There was a heavy downpour that morning so the ground was slippery. The operation was not easy. In the last effort to lift the can onto her head, the second girl slipped and her can fell forward. The force from her, together with the falling can, made the first girl, who was herself momentarily imbalance, slip too.

          Both girls fell into the sea-like crude oil. They could not swim so they fell like stones to the bottom. They drank and struggled for survival but they could not make it. They died before rescuers could render any help.

          The worse case was that of Monale Nkposi, who, upon discovering that her farm was among the farmlands oil-soaked, went to see what could be salvaged of the remaining cassava. It was December and the harmattan was harsh. Every green leaf turned pale, worsened by the spillage.

          A fisherman named Kilsi Nduba was going to the fishing port on his antique, rickety bicycle, smoking. Upon reaching the filter, as customary, he threw away the butt. To his bewilderment, as if the devil was just waiting to doom the poor woman and her three children – two girls and a boy, the butt started a fire. Within a space of one minute, the entire farmland and the surrounding ones were engulfed. Kilsi, himself, only managed to escape after he had tried unsuccessfully to quench the wild fire but not before being badly burnt.

          Monale and her family would have survived the inferno if they, upon sighting the fire, had run away eastwards immediately. They had wanted to protect their properties and pack the uprooted cassava. Unknown to them, the fire was wilder than they had thought.

          They were so badly burnt. Their yell made passersby come around though none could render any meaningful assistance. In the first place, there was no water nearby. Even if there was, it would still have been useless because none could go closer due to the awesome heat.

          The four wriggled in pain and cried their last. There was indeed nothing that any person could do. After struggling and wriggling for about a period of five minutes, certain sounds that resembled mild gun shots emanated from them. ‘Gbuaa’ came the sound up to eight times.

          The fire made sure that they were perfectly roasted and that the available yet-to-be-sunk crude oil was properly licked and every shrub, grass or leaf, burnt before it died down. Only the charred remains of Monale and her three children remained. Within minutes, the information spread throughout Kpaabee, erecting upon the community, a canopy of sadness and sorrow.  

          Esdross Oil staff never stayed within the community. They all left the community to Port Harcourt and Bori, where they enjoyed a measure of the good life – electricity, better accommodation, cleaner water, access to communication etc, leaving Kpaabee deserted, sad and lone. They could not even procure and maintain a diesel generator to at least light up the streets if it would not be possible to light the homes.

          The result was total darkness. At certain periods of the year especially when there was no moonlight, one could aim a cutlass at the other’s  neck and he or she would not even notice it, not to mention identifying who the criminal was. It was as bad as that.

          Even when the roads were nothing to write home about – full of hills and valleys, completely erosion-ridden, the company did not care. Their Hilux vehicles could climb them without problems. There was no corporate social responsibility of any kind to the community whose land produced the oil that they drilled daily. The same story is true of other oil companies within the Niger Delta. Take Oloibiri for instance. The area is left desolate. The people do not feel the impact of the oil which gave its drillers billions of dollars.

          As for the Kpaabee people and indeed many other oil-bearing communities of Ogoni, no single citizen was a permanent staff of the company. They were only hired as cooks, cleaners, gatemen, messengers, security officers and at best, clerks to whom they paid stipends. All the few people who were ‘lucky’ to be employed, apart from the clerks, were on contract.

          The permanent staff were mostly Hausa, Yoruba and to some extent, Igbo, Bendelites and Efik-Ibibio. Meanwhile even as at then, Kpaabee had graduates of Engineering, Management and Administration, Social Sciences, Natural Sciences etc that could have been employed and earn their living.

          The result was that many of the jobless youths only wiled away their time, playing draft and other games or following their parents to the farm. The worst was the women folk. Esdross Oil staff, capitalizing on the precarious situation they found themselves, took them as sex objects to whom they paid stipends at the end of the day.

          Permanent staff employment is never done within the company in Kpaabee not even within Rivers State. It is done on national level at the national/ corporate headquarters in Victoria Island, Lagos.

          The people, observing all these, complained to the state government, demanding that the company compensate them and develop their land. After much petition and struggle, the company accepted grudgingly, the payment of N10,000,000 yearly to the community as royalty; N5,000,000 each to the best farmer and fisherman; N3,500,000 to the first runners-up from each category, N2,000,000 to the second runners-up and N500,000 to ten other farmers and fishermen, who performed next to the second runners-up as consolation prizes, beginning from 1976.

          These were incentives designed to make the people, who had started deserting fishing and farming in the area, to rededicate themselves to their trades. The Paramount Ruler, HRH, Chief Johnson Monsigiaa Kobaatogo, also added that the two overall winners would have the honour of being and remaining members of the Council of Chiefs except and until they were defeated in subsequent years.

          With these developments, the people of Kpaabee community had a renewed hope. Everybody resumed either farming or fishing or both, employing all means and skills possible to achieve good harvest or catch.

          A man named Tomka Bagbi, a local primary school teacher, teaching in Community Primary School 1, Kpaabee, became the overall winner for the farming while Nkaakina Bakpo clinched that of the fishing. Both were given N5,000,000 and made members of the Council of Chiefs.

          The situation of Tomka with the initial N5,000,000 could be likened to a man who saw an oasis with its spring after wandering for four days in the Sahara Desert under its scotching heat of sometimes up to 500c. He would simply attempt to tilt the spring due to his excessive want for water.

          His joy knew no bounds. He had never held more than N40,000 in his hand at a time  since he came to this world. He was constantly in want of money. His salary for a month rarely reached twentieth of the next month before he started getting broke. This was compounded by the ever-increasing demands on his meagre salary, especially when the children increased in number to five and also advanced  a little in their ages.

          There was demand for food, schooling materials, clothing, essential household materials etc. All these were competing for the meagre salary being paid to him, making him worried. He kept thinking day and night on what to do to remedy and ameliorate the situation.

           Somebody might be tempted to ask why he should give birth to many children, considering the fact that his income was small. His life experiences, especially those of his childhood, necessitated his wanting many children.

          He was the only child of his parents who were local fishermen. As an only child, he did not have any person to play with at home or even to talk to especially when school was not in session and his parents were away, fishing. To break the loneliness at least to some extent, he would go to other people’s houses so as to be able to play with their children before his own parents would come home. Sometimes, the other children would join and beat him up most times for no reason. 

          He, himself, was not a zombie. Though small, he was a strong boy. At the earlier stages, he defended himself and beat the second son, who was eight years old, and then the third son, who was six years old and finally, the fourth son who was four years old. When they observed that he would be defeating them should they continue fighting him one on one, they henceforth, decided to fight him in group, some hitting his belly, others, his back and some others still, his legs and head. Such was too much for him, especially when their eldest brother, who was about ten then, would not even ask what the problem was but would just be kicking him like football.

          He would cry to their house, wishing that he had at least a brother. Both of them would have matched or even overpowered them all, including the eldest. He would wait lonely until his parents returned. While waiting, he would be wondering why he did not have brothers and sisters. He would wish his family were like the family of Dumdisi – eight children, all boys. None of the other children dared attempt to fight them – that would be tantamount to being on a suicide mission. When they filed from their compound, they appeared to the other children as a little army. The other children used to run away or put themselves in check and would not do or say anything that would arouse their anger or upset the status quo.  

          Being a child as he was, only six, he would still look for his play mates the following day, not minding that they had unanimously beat him up the previous day. Even when he did mind, he had no option. He was a child and could not afford to be lonely. He had to play with other children anyhow.

          On good days, which were usually very few, they would play and end up in peace. However, on most occasions, they would quarrel over very little,  childish, nonsensical and inconsequential things like bottle cover, rubber band, toy, stick, grasshopper, beads, water proof, condemned motorcycle tyre which they normally called ‘motor’ etc. When this happened, the other children, about four boys and a girl from one father, would join and beat him up or more leniently, tease him to cry.

                                          

                                          CHAPTER THREE

His loneliness became the worst when his parents died in a canoe mishap while trying to cross from the large Simiigu Water – an estuary of the Atlantic Ocean within the Niger Delta to the Boo Paraa-ol Creek which belongs to the Kpaabee people. The Simiigu estuary acts as the maritime border between the Okrika people of Obolo and Wakama on one side and Kpaabee on the other.

They had chosen to be fishing at the Simiigu Estuary due to the large sizes of fish of different kinds that follow the tide from the Atlantic Ocean. When they sold them, it was usually okay to fend for the family and live reasonable lives.

However, on that fateful day, an unusual kind of storm raved on the estuary that defied every attempt by both parents to sail to the shallower and less stormy Boo Paraa-ol Creek waters. The paddling skills of his mother, Barizoge, became useless. In the process, the canoe capsized. 

His father, Titii, was a very good swimmer but not his mother. If for only him, he would have swum ashore, the about 50-metre-deep Simiigu Estuary, using different swimming strokes.  But Titii loved his wife, so he was determined to swim with her, despising the fact that she was about 115kg while he was about 68kg.

At first, he wanted to, at least, take the fishing net and also the caught fishes and swim them ashore with his wife and allow the capsized canoe to sink down. He had actually done that to a distance of three hundred metres, when he discovered that his strength might not be able to carry him through the remaining distance of about another three hundred metres to the shore. He then allowed the net and the bag of caught, large-sized tilapia, tuna and mackerel fishes to sink and concentrated on saving both his and his wife’s lives.

There were no fishermen within the vicinity so help could not come. He managed to swim with his wife up to the seven hundredth metre which was about three hundred metres to the shore before he saw two other fishermen in their canoes, about a hundred metres from them. Then he cried for help, knowing that his strength would not be able to carry him through the remaining three hundred metres. 

At first the fishermen did not know what was going on because Titii’s voice was barely audible due to exhaustion. When he added signal to the barely audible cry, they then understood that they were on the verge of drowning.

Before the fishermen could paddle to reach them, Titii was extremely exhausted, both of them having drunk much water too. Both were drowned before they could be rescued. The fishermen had to search for them and after about fifteen minutes, they saw them. They immediately managed to bring them ashore. Every act of resuscitation proved abortive. They were already dead.    

  One would be tempted to ask the reason why Titii should be going to fishing at such a far distance and why he should be doing so with a woman – his wife, knowing fully that she was not a good swimmer. Though Barizoge was not a good swimmer, she was an excellent paddler. She had rare physical strength and when she handled the paddle, the canoe moved three times how it was supposed to. It looked as if Titii used an out-board motor engine. Oh, how he loved that! There was virtually no need looking for an outside paddler with whom he would, at the end, share the catch. His heartthrob completely met that need.

Besides being an excellent paddler, Barizoge was a good entertainer, a real ‘help meet’ and a wonderful partner. With her around, no moment was boring. She worked so hard too. She knew she was working for her own family. Besides, unlike other women and even other lily-livered men, she was never afraid of the largeness of the water surface. Oh, how Titii loved these too! There was really no need for a partner or helper. She completely filled the gap.  So, you see, his wife tended to be that best fishing partner that he needed. That was why he preferred fishing with her.

Talking about why he should be fishing at the Simiigu Estuary, a very far fishing site, he was a man that trusted his swimming abilities. No distance on water tended to be far for him. Within minutes, he would swim ashore. Of a truth, he was the greatest swimmer of Kpaabee in his time. He had more swimming skills than other Kpaabee fishermen. He was a master of all the known swimming strokes. He even introduced one called ‘the snake style’. If not that he was a little elderly in age – about forty seven when he died, he would have swum ashore with his wife, despising the distance.

That fateful day was neither the first nor the second day that his canoe had capsized. That was the third. The first happened when he was twenty nine while the second happened when he was thirty four. In both cases, the canoe also capsized due to storm too. However, that of the second was worse than the first.

On the second occasion, the canoe actually sank. Skillfully, he succeeded in retrieving the sinking canoe to the surface, retrieved the sinking nets and the caught fishes and put them on his shoulders while afloat the about one-hundred-metre-deep Simiigu Estuary waters, scooped out the water from the canoe, put the nets and the caught fishes into the canoe, retrieved the drifting paddle and finally entered the canoe and continued fishing. It was a feat that was talked about for years especially considering the fact that he was alone and his mahogany-wood canoe was massive. Also amazing was the fact that it happened at full tide.

So, when his parents died he became an extremely lonely orphan. What he could not get as siblings, he vowed getting as children, who would run around him and fill the gap created during his growing years. Then, he would never feel lonely again as there would be a sizeable number of them to play with and keep him company. It was not a mistake at all that he had up to five children.

So, he put in all his might and knowledge to the farming business and God helping him, he won the first of the Esdross Oil Nigeria Limited farming prize in addition to being a member of the Council of Chiefs.

Tomka never expected that elevation, at least, not that soon. Though there is no rule formally stipulating the age at which one could become a chief in the Council of Chiefs, it is a gerontocratic institution – always for the elders. Youths are not and have not been members. One must be at least a little advanced in age before he can be considered. It is believed that wisdom flows with age, ceteris paribus.

The youngest ever to be made a Council of Chiefs member was Chief Akpe. That is the reason why he became the oldest and longest serving chief in the cabinet of His Highness, Chief Johnson Monsigiaa Kobaatogo.

The Council of Chiefs is the highest policy-making body in Kpaabee. On the average, the bottom age limit for being a member is fifty. It must be for a very obvious feat that would make a person younger than fifty to be considered a member.

Being a member of the Council of Chiefs accords one, one of the greatest honours in Kpaabee. First, he is empowered by law to settle disputes in his own palace especially those whose penalties won’t demand a capital punishment, confiscation of properties, excommunication, torture, public humiliation and imprisonment.

Secondly, he is seen as a representative of the Paramount Ruler even when the Paramount Ruler has not expressly delegated or instructed such.

Thirdly, he is highly honoured. Only the Council of Chiefs members have the eagle’s feather pinned to their caps. Any other person or chief who pins the eagle’s feather to his cap violates the law of Kpaabee and must face the punishment – decapped publicly and ordered to go away from the ceremony. The cap is then sent to the Paramount Ruler who will publicly burn it as a warning to others.

If the offender commits the same offence again, he will face the same punishment and in addition, will be made to pay bóó bere ka kpege – currently,                                                                                                                                                                            N80,000 (Eighty Thousand Naira) for ‘putting his finger into the eyes of the Council of Chief members.’ Failure to do so, his properties worth the amount would be confiscated.

  Knowing the consequences, no one dares add the eagle’s feather to his cap. So, when they see Council of Chief members, they respect them so much. For instance, if a Council of Chiefs member is present in an occasion, he will be the person to declare it open. If there will be libation, except where it is traditionally reserved for a particular person, depending on the nature of the occasion, he is the person that will be called upon to libate. In fact, not calling upon him would immediately imply disregard for the ‘eagle’s feather.’

More so, if they are seeking for opinion on an issue or an item is to be shared, he would be the first person whose opinion will be sought or the object being shared, shared to. If an object, say goat, is being shared, his portion, which would be shared first, will not be handed over to him directly.  That would be tantamount to grave disregard. Normally, such chiefs attend public functions with their ‘boys’. The sharer would only show him – “Chief, this is your own” and hand it over to his ‘boy’. If the sharer observed that he did not come with his ‘boy’, he would only show him and then arrange how it will reach his house immediately or even before the chief leaves.     

When the ceremony is over, he is usually the first person to leave; after that, others can follow. Rising to leave before the Council of Chief member present does so, is tantamount to disrespect.

If a Council of Chiefs member speaks, especially on issues concerning the community, it is taken that that is the mind of the Paramount Ruler and the Council of Chiefs. Each of them knows this, so they try as much as possible to mind the things they say and do in public in order not to misrepresent the Council or the Paramount Ruler.

Every Council of Chiefs member tries as much as possible to maintain a façade of dignity. As if it were a codified rule, no Council of Chiefs member attends an occasion not fully and formally invited. Not only that, they must be intimated clearly what their role will be at the ceremony. Every adult Kpaabee citizen knows that. 

Besides, they do not normally come at the stipulated time. They usually come between thirty minutes to one hour from the stipulated time. When they arrive, the meeting, ceremony etc is expected to start immediately. They do not naturally wait for people; people wait for them to arrive. They do not also stay till the end of the ceremony. They leave after the main part has been done. For instance, if it is a wedding ceremony, they normally leave after the solemnization but not before shaking hands with the celebrants while their ‘boys’ hand over their gifts to them.   

With that done, the celebrants will know that they actually honoured their invitation. They rarely stay until the reception ceremony except they are to officiate, usually as the chairman or a special guest. In that case, they would normally not attend the church solemnization ceremony. They rarely stay long in any public gathering and the people know that. So when the celebrant or those designated see them around, they usually prepare their refreshment and any other take-aways very fast so as to ‘meet up.’

No Council of Chiefs member eats neither does he open his take-away package in public. In fact, some don’t even look towards the direction of the usher with the package as she hands over to their ‘boys’. They only order their boys to open the package only when they would reach home.

People doff their caps while greeting a Council of Chiefs member. However, he is not expected to doff except while greeting the Paramount Ruler.  

So, you see, it was a great elevation for Tomka. He did not expect it so soon not because of his age, at least, he was over forty but because of his social status – an ordinary primary school teacher, teaching local noise-making children and being paid ‘peanut’ as salary, which could not satisfactorily  fend for his family until the end of the month.

 People wondered how he could defeat Chief Nvingah Zoragah, the first runner-up for the farming category - a renowned yam farmer, owning cassava, yam and plantain plantations in Kpaabee and their neighbouring communities – Letoor, Bon Gioo and Lokpo Nduba and also how he could defeat Chief Vigaage Ntete, the second runner-up – a man renowned for being the first to plant the discorea rotundata yam specie and the nva kol tor cassava specie in Kpaabee community.

Both felt that they had been humiliated by an ordinary primary school teacher, not even a headmaster or secondary school principal. Their jealousy became more intense when Tomka was raised shoulder-high by the young men while the women were pouring on him powder, jubilating, singing and dancing round the village:

           Tomka a naa nu e Mene Nvingah                   Tomka has done what Chief Nvingah     

            naa daa naa O oo! (D.C)                                    could not do O oo!     

                & Tomka be el ba! Daraiye boo O! (D.S)          Tomka has won! Lift him up o!

                & Tomka a naa nu e Mene Nvingah                Tomka has done what Chief Nvingah 

           naa daa naa O oo! (D.S)                                     could not do O oo! 

Such was the practice in Kpaabee, established from time immemorial, when somebody achieved an extra-ordinary feat like the case of inter-community wrestling, extra-ordinary breakthrough in fishing and farming, leading the community warriors to war and becoming victorious, winning in any other major contests keenly contested, for example, an election and so on.

 For instance, Tee Kpooge, the former Local Government Chairman was also lifted that way when he defeated Dr. Kimanyieke Ndomgbe from Bon Viga community. Many people had expected Dr. Kimanyieke Ndomgbe, with his PhD in Veterinary Medicine from the Royal Veterinary College, London, to defeat Tee Kpooge, with only B. Sc in Economics, from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka.

The same shoulder-high treatment was also given to Dr. Innocent Kaakiri Lekaaga, - the University of Port Harcourt lecturer in the Department of Sociology. 

Such treatment was normally concluded with the bestowing of a chieftaincy title and / naming a particular road, street, building, project etc after the person being celebrated. And depending on the feat achieved, such a person was usually invited as a member of the Council of Chiefs for at least a two-year period. 

Among the people who had received such treatment, Chief Nvingah Zoragah stood as the first. He had been raised shoulder high up to four times, being the greatest yam farmer in Kpaabee community. So prominent was he that people said about him:

“…like Chief Nvingah, who understands the secret language of yams.”

In fact, some had described him as the “Lord Farmer of Kpaabee.”

Chief Nvingah almost burst in anger when the procession passed the front of his compound with the song. He let things be, however. He hoped to regain his age-long reputation of being the greatest farmer of Kpaabee from the following year.

                                                             

                                                                                         

.CHAPTER  FOUR

The next year was 1977. It was farming season again. Everybody went to their farmlands to cultivate and water to fish. The ordinary Tomka Bagbi was now Chief Tomka Bagbi. He was very prudent in the utilization of the N5,000,000 given to him. He bought and pledged more farmlands, better farm tools, seedlings of better species and hired more farm labourers. The money received, of a truth, changed his life greatly. He was bent on clinching the prize again that year.

No one knew how he could get the land which they knew was not of much quality to produce the kind of tubers of yam, plantain, cassava etc that he publicly displayed at the village square the previous year. Tomka, himself, was bent on extinguishing poverty from his lineage by clinching the prize each year. So, he determined to work harder the current year. He knew that the competition was becoming keener. Some people had taken it as one of those empty promises by Esdross Oil until they saw Tomka and others, receive their cheques November of the previous year.

From then on, people started monitoring him to see what he did to the land. He, himself, became very careful in order that nobody would steal his strategy and clinch the coveted prize from him. He decided to add other strategies to make the land even richer. He was sure that no eye was close enough to see what he was doing on his land and to the crops and tried to cover all traces that could reveal the strategies adopted should someone enter his land in his absence.

People became extremely surprised at the rate at which his crops were growing. The harvest was even more bountiful than that of the previous year.

During the November prize-giving day, he also became the overall winner for the farming category. The company also gave him another cheque of N5,000,000. His joy knew no bounds. Meanwhile Chiefs Nvingah and Vigaage tie for the first runner-up, both clinching N2,000,000 each while Mr. Nkoormagah Pakpao, a somewhat hunch-back man, clinched the second runner-up position, earning for himself, N1,000,000.

During the year’s prize-giving, in addition to raising him shoulder-high and singing the same song that was sung the previous year, the ceremony was broadcast live on RSTV and NTA -  the two television stations in Rivers State as well as Radio Rivers – the only radio station existing at that time in the state. 

Chiefs Nvingah and Vigaage now saw him as an arch enemy – a stumbling block which must be removed. Though Chief Nvingah coveted the prize and wished he were the person clinching it, his main anger was the shift, the encomium and the regard people now gave to Chief Tomka, sidelining him.

The worst was the song which the whole community, including ne’er-do-wells, riff-raffs, idiots, imbeciles, zombies, morons and even the suckling sang - that Tomka had done what Chief Nvingah could not do. Extremely annoying was that this same song had been sung for a period of two years, consecutively. He would simply go mad if this same song was sung the third time. 

Both chiefs invited him to Chief Nvingah’s house on the pretense of congratulating him on his ‘well-deserved’ victory. They had planned to poison his food. Tomka knew that he had to be very careful, so he did not honour the invitation. They also invited him over to Six-to-Six Relaxation Centre to wine with him with the intention of poisoning his drink. He did not also honour the invitation. They had thought that Tomka would be elated to be among the ‘big boys’; after all, very few people were richer than Chiefs Vigaage and Nvingah in Kpaabee. They had thought that he would jump at the idea, especially welcoming him to Six-to-Six Relaxation Centre, located at the Sikpee Hills in Kpaabee.

People took their loved ones there. Girls hoped that their male friends would take them there and when they did, they were elated.

At Six-to-Six Relaxation Centre, one could get the best prepared catfish, goat, chicken and bush meat pepper soups. The drinks there were always chilled – the perfect type to quench every thirst. As if that was not enough, the centre played several soul-enriching songs of different kinds.

Palm wine is a drink that is valued and respected by the Gokana people. Whereas elsewhere, it was sold at the prevailing weather temperature using cup, at the centre, it was not only sold chilled but also sold bottled.  Drinking pure, undiluted, ice-cold palm wine especially on sunny days is simply wonderful!

Apart from the drinks and pepper soups, the centre had on their menu, tastefully prepared native, ‘banga’ (palm nut), ‘edika ikong’, okra, ‘egusi’ (melon), bitter leaf and ‘okazi’ soups. One could make his choice of ‘fufu’ (a food made by fermenting, sieving, boiling and pounding cassava) or ‘eba’ (garri). Rice, be it jollof, fried or white, was also served.

Every Friday evening, the centre normally entertained their guests with live music. Their dancers were great entertainers. It was a delight watching them dance. Sometimes, they would dance as if they were possessed by the spirit of dance. The girls would dance and shake their waists so violently to the extent that their buttocks would appear as if it would severe from their body, yet it would not. 

The drummers, on their part, were experts. One got confused from where they learnt the skills and how long it took them to learn to perfection. Despite the fact that the band comprised of different native musical instruments, there was perfect harmony. They would drum to the extent that the spectators would not be able to hold themselves any longer but join on the dance floor. They had learnt different styles and patterns of drumming. The dancers, themselves, had also learnt and mastered the different dance steps to the different drumming styles so much so that there was perfect synchronization.

The vocalists were excellent. They comprised of girls of between sixteen and twenty two years, all having shrilled soprano voices (for those that sang in treble) and melodious contralto (for those that sang in alto). They were simply selected experts, singing mostly Ogoni folk music.

Because of the life band and their weird performances, Six-to-Six Relaxation Centre was usually filled on Fridays. The centre made good money on that day and they also paid the group well.

Apart from the money that they statutorily received from the centre, the group, elegantly christened Gbo Panvin Leesi – “Children of Luck,” got much of their income from the money that highly-elated spectators sprayed on them as they danced. When the drummers observed that the spectators had started spraying money on the dancers, they would beat their various instruments even more wildly. This would normally have the effect of making even others that were still sitting, get up and join in the singing, dancing and spraying of more money on the dancers and even the drummers.

In other to make the best profit, the band owner employed the most beautiful girls that could also dance very well. Of a truth, many men including women themselves went to the centre on Fridays to behold first, the beauty and second, the weird dance steps of these wonderful creatures. Because of their beauty, the Kpaabee people said that ‘God created them in the afternoon when the sun was shining,’ – meaning that God saw well while creating them.

Apart from that, the centre had a mini guest house with many beautiful girls hanging around for those who cared about that.          

  So, you see, both chiefs had high hopes that Chief Tomka would be elated to be among the ‘big boys’ and accept the all-expense-paid invitation to the centre. However, when he turned down the invitation, they decided to use other means to secure his death.

“What can we do to effect Tomka’s death without any trace to us?” reasoned Chief Vigaage.

Both thought for some time.

“Let’s shoot him,” suggested Chief Nvingah.

“That’s a bad idea, Chief Nvingah. Only very few people own guns in our community – you and I, the Paramount Ruler, Tee Kpooge –the former local government chairman and Dr. Innocent Kaakiri Lekaaga – the University of Port Harcourt lecturer. Besides, the sound of a gun could easily reveal the evil done. So I don’t think that is a good idea,” concluded Chief Vigaage.

“So, what is the good idea?” inquired Chief Nvingah.

“Let us use our native laws and custom to kill him,” suggested Chief Vigaage.

“You must be joking,” replied Chief Nvingah. “You and I know that Tomka is an upright man. He does not steal, womanize, fight, tell lies, murder, take bribe, neither does he give. He does not drink, smoke, play tricks on his fellow man, visit a native doctor or practice sorcery of any kind. Contentment runs in his blood. He is not covetous neither is he irascible. You cannot accuse him of committing adultery with your wife, sister or daughter.

He gives respect to his elder ones; so you cannot accuse him of disrespect. He goes to church and all of us see that he is trying his best to live rightly. Based on that, you cannot accuse him of idolatry. He has no business with the native doctor. He is found to be this ‘holy-holy’ type.

He does not fight. He is a man of peace and it is even written on his face. So you cannot accuse him of causing civil disobedience or social unrest of any kind. He does not molest and neither does he ill-treat his fellow man.

What would you say, Chief Vigaage? That you saw him working on his farm on Deebom, our market day? Nobody will even believe you because Tomka, himself, has never been seen to violate the laws of Kpaabee. Even my little boy, Dumka, came back from school just last week and was reciting a portion of the Bible for me. The portion was Hebrews chapter 13 :17. 

                        ‘Obey them that have the rule over you

                         and submit yourselves, for they watch

                         over your souls, as they that must give

                         account,  that  they  may do it with joy 

                         and not with grief: for that is unprofita-

                         ble for you.’ 

        

When I asked him who taught him, hear what he said:

‘Our big sir, Sir Tomka, taught us. He said that we should not disobey our leaders who may be teachers, headmaster, paramount ruler, local government chairman, governor, president etc. That if we disobey them, we also disobey God because it is God that kept them there.’

Just as he tries his best to obey the law and the leaders, so also he teaches our children. In fact, I doff my cap for his ‘communal chauvinism.’ He does his best in encouraging our children to, not only be patriotic, but be seen to be patriotic, not only communally but even up to the national level. Of a truth Tomka make us place him on a pedestal.

My daughter came home from school one day and told me, “Daddy, listen to our community anthem.”

“Community anthem?” I asked.

“Yes, our community anthem. Here it goes:

            ‘God bless Kpaabee community,

             Protect the Paramount Ruler,

             The Council of Chiefs and her people,

             Lead our youths to wisdom

             And make them responsible citizens;

             Let them not die young

             And give all a sense of responsibility;

             Deliver her from the hands of her enemies;

             Let not them that seek her downfall live;

             Let truth be our watchword;

             Let the young soar like the eagle;

             Let there be tranquility in Kpaabee;

             God bless Kpaabee community.’”  

“Wonderful community anthem,” exclaimed Chief Vigaage.

“Of course, it is,” corroborated Chief Nvingah. “But listen to the second stanza. Immediately she finished singing the first stanza, she told me, ‘Daddy, wait; the stanza two remains.’ I gave her the chance and she sang heartily.

            ‘God bless Kpaabee community

             And her not-so-rich land too;

             Let not tears be seen

             But echoes of celebration;

             Give me the power to be 

             The best that I can possibly be;

             Take away sickness, great God

             And let not evil strive’

             Let your guardian angels be at 

             The North, East, South and West;

             Let prosperity be her portion;

             Kpaabee shall not be the least;

             Kpaabee is my dear community,

             Gokana is my dear kingdom,

             Ogoni is my dear ethnic group,

             Rivers is my state and

             Nigeria is my country.

             God bless Kpaabee community.’

When I asked her who taught the lovely community anthem, guess what her response was.

‘Our lovely big sir - Sir Tomka. Daddy, we all love Sir Tomka, our big sir. May God protect him for us.’ How then can we use the law to fight him?”

At this point Chief Vigaage contemplated reneging on the machinations against Chief Tomka. He could not speak for some seconds, obviously guilty conscious. The little girl was right.

“Why are you so downcast, Pal?” asked Chief Nvingah.

“You just made me so,” he retorted. “I am feeling guilty right now. It is very obvious that we are doing the wrong thing. I don’t think I can continue, Pal.”

“No, we must continue. Have you now suddenly become a woman? Are you no longer the lion? Has the lion suddenly become a lamb? So you mean you are moved by the song of a little primary school child which I am the person that relayed it to you? I wish I had not.

I cannot bear to hear the same song repeated the third time. I would rather die than that to happen, my friend.

The whole community has sung for two years that Chief Tomka has done what I,  Chief Nvingah, your own bosom friend, could not do. May be this year, they will sing that Chief Tomka has done what Chief Nvingah and Chief Vigaage could not do. What would you do then? – go mad?

If you go mad my friend because of Tomka, I promise you, I will not take you to the Psychiatric Hospital in Rumuigbo, Port Harcourt. I will simply lock you up with that my dog’s chain at my backyard until the day you will come back to your senses and if you don’t, you will remain there forever. Instead of being a ‘woman,’ let us brainstorm on the best way to effect our long-conceived desire.”

Chief Vigaage thought for a long time and then hit the strategy to adopt.

 “You know that the punishment for murder is being buried alive. We will make him kill somebody,” reasoned Chief Vigaage.

“You are out of your mind,” replied Chief Nvingah. “You and I know that the highest that Tomka can kill is a rat. People won’t even believe you and Tomka, himself, won’t kill anyone no matter the amount you offer him or what is at stake.”

“We will do the killing and by all means make people believe that he did the killing and make it appear like a case of ritual killing, suggesting the strength of his recent farming prowess, leading to his sudden wealth - N10,000,000 within two years, as prize money, excluding the thousands and thousands he got from the sale of his farm produce. 

Every sane Kpaabee citizen will believe what they will see. After all, there is no clue to his uprooting yam tubers as fat as the two thighs of Mama Leki Nkpodee (the fattest woman in our community) put together and forty giant bags of cassava from a plot of land with each tuber up to the size of the thigh of a man, from our land, battered by excessive oil exploration and exploitation, reducing the land to about 25% loam and 75% sand. There is more to such a feat than meets the ordinary eye,” Chief Vigaage concluded.

                                                            

                                                        

                                                     

CHAPTER  FIVE

Chief Nvingah began to see the possibility of succeeding in their machination to doom Chief Tomka. They planned to kill Mbomkoo, the madman in his hut in the woods at about 7pm and then, that same night, prepare a makeshift structure that resembles a shrine in all ramifications, at a hidden corner of Chief Tomka’s major farmland in Kpaabee, their community. Then, they would hire a false accuser, who, after being paid a bribe of N400,000, would testify that around 7pm that day, he saw Chief Tomka kill Mbomkoo, cut off his head and put in a bag while his clothes, in another bag. Then he would run, starting from Muu Nzorpiriko, which separates Kpaabee from their neighbours, shouting and lamenting, to the Paramount Ruler’s palace.

However, he would not reveal the incident until he would reach the Paramount Ruler’s palace. This would keep everybody including Chief Tomka in the dark and prevent him from undoing any deed.  

Naturally, being a murder case, the Paramount Ruler would send the community vigilante at once to arrest him and lock him in the community cell while investigation and trial would commence immediately.

Meanwhile, Chief Nvingah would bury the head at the front of the miniature shrine so erected while his clothes, partly soaked with blood, would be put in a bag and hidden at a safe corner at Tomka’s backyard that night by Chief Vigaage.

They agreed to make use of Ndaki – a jobless draft player. While envisaging the possibility of the Council of Chiefs inviting the Chief Priest – Tee Ndobadee, they agreed to meet with him and offer him N500,000 to support them. That he would pretend that the gods had seen the atrocity done. That he would divine that the head was placed at the front of the shrine so made on his farm while his clothes were hidden at his backyard.

 These two discoveries from the community chief priest himself, and the well-acted report from Ndaki, would make the community believe that Chief Tomka actually killed Mbomkoo for ritual purposes -   no wonder, the source of his sudden, unexplainable and bizarre farming success and wealth.

They decided on Mbomkoo, the madman, for three main reasons. The first was that his death would mean, by their own estimation, little to the community. In fact, it might even be a relief to the market women, who had been pestered in the past by the madman, to give him  garri, cooked rice, beans, fish, bread, akara etc.  No Mbomkoo would be there again to pester them, they thought. 

Secondly, it would be comparatively easier to kill him since he was not in his right senses, than to kill a sane Kpaabee citizen.

Thirdly, since he lived in the woods, people would less likely discover that they did the evil, especially when it would be done at night. However, being chiefs, they knew that despite the glaring fact the he was mentally deranged, his death would still be tantamount to murder and would be looked at that way by the community.

Better to kill an almost useless person and go scotch-free and still have the same intended result than killing a sane and useful citizen and risk being found out, they thought.

The evil was well planned. Tee Ndobadee was the person to meet first. He, at first, frowned at the idea and warned them of the consequences of such act.  In fact, he was at first very furious with the two chiefs and his mien portrayed a man extremely not in agreement with the deal. In fact, he even vowed at first, to relate to the Paramount Ruler of such grave conspiracy against an innocent, God-fearing man like Tomka, whom everybody, including them, knew to be a man of integrity.

 Both chiefs knew they would be in real trouble should they fail to convince the Chief Priest to be on their side at that point. Chief Nvingah, the chief architect, addressed him.

“Tee Ndobadee, “The Mouth of the Gods,” I salute you. We are here to negotiate a business deal with you that will not only change your life but even that of your children. Let me ask you a question.

‘Since you became the “Mouth of the Gods,” what can you boast of that you have achieved?  I remember that we give you fowls when we want to consult the Kpaabee Deity through you. I think you are happy that you eat fowls – people’s fowls. We only mobilize boys to catch the people’s fowls and the people’s fowls, when caught, automatically turn to the Council of Chiefs’ fowls.

The Council of Chiefs then presents the Council of Chiefs’ fowls to the Kpaabee Deity and automatically the people’s fowls, which had just turned the Council of Chiefs’ fowls, suddenly become the Kpaabee Deity’s fowls.

Since somebody must eat the Kpaabee Deity’s fowls on behalf of the Kpaabee Deity and also, since the rightful person to do that is the chief priest in the person of Tee Ndobadee, the people’s fowls, which later became the Council of Chiefs’ fowls and which afterward, metamorphosed into the Kpaabee Deity’s fowls, finally become Tee Ndobadee’s fowls. 

Then you eat the people’s fowls and are happy. Isn’t it? And even as you are eating, the owners of the people’s fowls are laying curses on whoever stole their fowls. Perhaps, they had wanted to use them for their Christmas celebrations.

Tee Ndobadee, don’t you think it is high time you ate curse-free meat? The Paramount Ruler which you want to reveal the secret to does not share the proceeds of the community with you or does he? He cruises around in his tear-rubber Pathfinder jeep while you “cruise” around on your ramshackle, God-forsaken, seventeenth-century bicycle. Life is good, ehn?

You are only given a bottle of Seaman’s Aromatic Schnapps and an ordinary N500 note, which is less than one dollar per week as if you were a first-class drunk and a grade-one pauper. You are very happy like a little girl that the parents bought a doll for. Isn’t N500 note what I give to my son, Dumka and my daughter, Sirale, in the village primary school which you teach, for their snacks every day? 

 We are here to discuss business with you and lift your life. Please, give us audience,” he prodded.

Ndobadee had been listening to all this in silence. At some time, he felt infuriated; at others, he saw his nakedness exposed. There was no need for being annoyed for he spoke the bitter truth, though in a rude way. 

While still battling to assimilate the “thunder” from Chief Nvingah, Chief Vigaage started his.

“Are you telling me that you do not like the good life? If you drive a car, will the four tyres burst, Ndobadee? Or these two times that Chief Tomka has won up to N10,000,000, did he give you N1? Does anyone remember that the chief priest has family and needs to clothe, feed, house and provide for them in these hard times? Is it not only when the community is in problem that they remember that there is a person called ‘Chief Priest’?

The chief priests of other lands are salaried – some N40,000, while others, N30,000. Bon Leevenu pays as much as N50,000. It is only Atuuma that pays as little as N20,000 to their Chief Priest.

When you see Tomka, a little boy that you can father, you call him “Chief Tomka.” If they call you, ‘Chief Ndobadee,’ will heaven collapse?

At this stage of your life and in this modern world, you still live in a thatched, mud house with innumerable leakages in the roof.”

The Chief Priest had been listening to all this in quietness though with mixed feelings. But the last statement from Chief Vigaage appeared to him as an exercise in insult. He could not help venting his pent-up feeling.

“Don’t insult me, Chief Vigaage. I will not sit here and receive more insults from you. After all, your visit is demon-propelled,” he warned.

As all this was going on, the rainstorm, which had been developing, suddenly culminated into a heavy downpour. Tee Ndobadee’s house, which had several open holes in the roof, suddenly started leaking profusely. 

Tee Ndobadee - the Chief Priest and his household, watched helplessly, as both they and the two chiefs were completely soaked. Such kind of weather was the right type for the both chiefs to drive home their point and make the Chief Priest to change his mind and play along with them. It was now ripe. Chief Vigaage continued.

“You will sit here and receive the money that we will offer you now that will make you change all these leaking thatch sheets tomorrow morning to brand new AVN zinc roofing sheets at worst. Or, if you are a man of high taste like us, I think you will go for asbestos or preferably, aluminium sheets especially, the more pliable Cameroon zinc. 

See now that rain is falling, everywhere is leaking like ‘tor Mpeeboo.’ It is only Mpeeboo, the madman’s house, which will look like this.”

Chief Nvingah started from where Chief Vigaage stopped.

“We are not here to curse or abuse you, Tee Ndobadee. We are only trying to open your blind eyes to see the obvious truth which you are trying not to see. Please, don’t be mad at us. ‘Truth’, they say, ‘is bitter’. Instead of being mad, consider that we are here to tell you the bitter truth, which you and I know will always remain bitter.”

He was about leaving them, possibly to ponder on the whole scenario and decide on the next course of action to take. Simultaneously, Chief Vigaage brought out a parcel and placed it on the rickety, wooden table at the centre of the house. He looked disinterestedly at the parcel and then looked away.

Chief Vigaage emptied the contents of the envelope on the rickety table – ten bundles of N20 notes (the highest currency denomination in Nigeria then) of which each bundle had fifty pieces, all amounting to N10,000 – all mint. The odour filled the room elegantly. Upon being presented with the N20 notes, totaling N10,000, the temptation was too much to bear. After considering his poverty and what N10,000 could do in his life, he accepted the proposal. 

He however added that any year that any of them won the first prize, the one who won would give him the sum of N3,000. He was sure that with Tomka out of the way, either of the two chiefs would almost certainly clinch the grand prize. It was quite unlikely that any other person would win them. He was sure that if Chief Nvingah won the first prize then Chief Vigaage would win the second or vice versa. They had what it took to do that  - money, lands, fame, labourers, seedlings and other inputs, skills, experience, farm implements and other materials etc.

The both parties accepted and the deal was sealed. 

The next was Ndaki, who accepted the proposal even before seeing the money. N7,000 was given to him. All was now set.

Immediately the deed was done, Ndaki was alerted to start wailing.

                                                                 

CHAPTER  SIX

“Kpaabee community,” cried Ndaki. “My eyes have seen my back today! Abomination! The worst has happened!”

Peopled asked him severally what the matter was, but he did not reveal. The wailing caused so much commotion. People were following him as he was running to the Paramount Ruler’s palace.

“May my eyes never again see such sights! Kpaabee Ooo o! I see hot death today!” He continued.

The uproar caused so much commotion and tension in the community. Everybody was concerned. The young, the old and even children were extremely eager to hear what Ndagi saw, especially, the hot death. Who was killed? Who killed who? Where? When? Why? And how was the killing hot? 

There were so many questions in the minds of the Kpaabee people. Ndaki, himself, was not ready to reveal to anyone except when he would reach the Paramount Ruler. This was the plan.

All sorts of humans – the lame, the deaf, the blind, the whole, the drunk, the sober and indeed the whole community, heard of the incident within minutes. Each citizen told the other.

Ndaki maintained a façade of truth and reality. His mien depicted one thoroughly agonized from his experience. Though the people knew him as Ndaki, the humourous, easy-going, playful draft player, his appearance that day was so different from the Ndaki that they used to know. 

“Something must be wrong somewhere,” many reasoned.

He perfectly acted his part so well that every sane Kpaabee citizen was concerned. Soon, the palace was filled with anxious-looking villagers. Ndaki is now almost out of breath.

“I want to see the Paramount Ruler,” he requested.

By this time, more chiefs had arrived. He noticed Chief Zorasi -  the Prime Minister, Chief Kiebel – the Community Youth Patron, Chief Vigaage - the Community Project Coordinator, Chief Aleelo – the Community Secretary, Chief Nvingah – the Community Business and Entrepreneurial Coordinator and Nzoova – a cabinet chief.

“Chief Zorasi, I want to see the Paramount Ruler immediately. My eyes have seen hot death!”

The commotion made the Paramount Ruler – HRH, Chief Monsigiaa, who was bathing, hurry up to see what the problem was. He came out, anxious.

The first amazement that greeted him was the extremely large number of humans that filled his palace even to the extent that if one threw sand up, virtually no grain would fall down. The second was the agitation on the faces of the people.

“Did many families have a ghastly motor accident in which there were no survivors? Or did Nkorobe, Nkongalo and all the palm wine tappers of the community fell from their palm trees dead, as was the norm each time with the few that did?

 Or on a heavier note, did the Muu Nzorpiriko dry up again or was the path to the precious community stream blocked by an unknown, enormous anthill due to the anger of the gods or  one of them, particularly Gbere Baka – the god of poxes, as it happened in the days when his father was on the throne? 

Did the people of Kpooro enter their land, killed and maimed scores and scores as they did seven yam-planting seasons earlier? Or was it a case of Bon Gor community setting fire on Kol Epboonaa – the sacred community forest, housing the Kpaabee Deity shrine.

So many issues ran through his mind within seconds and minutes, making him totally worried. His people should not see his reign as been bedeviled by crisis. That would make him an unpopular ruler.

He looked around momentarily and saw chiefs including Chief Zorasi, the prime Minister. Then he spoke.

“Chief Zorasi, chiefs and people of Kpaabee, what is the problem? Tell me immediately.”   

 “Ehen! Our Paramount Ruler, live forever,” Ndaki started. “This world is so wicked to the extent that if it were possible, perpetrators of certain unspeakable, calamitous, barbaric and heart-rending felonies…” 

He was interrupted by Chief Zorasi.

“Go straight to the point, Ndaki, if you have anything to say.”

The Paramount Ruler signaled him to leave Ndaki alone.

“Mbomkoo is dead,” Ndaki revealed.

“You must be very stupid, Ndaki,” observed Chief Nvingah. “You are the greatest fool I have ever seen in my entire life. No wonder, the only thing you can do in your life is to play draft. So you, in your foolishness, make all this noise and commotion all the way from Muu Nzorpiriko just to tell Kpaabee that Mbomkoo, an ordinary madman is dead? Is there anyone, including you and I, who will not die some day? He queried.

“I wonder,” retorted Chief Vigaage. “This is the reason why we say our youths should desist from smoking Indian Hemp or taking and sniffing other unwholesome stimulant products like cocaine, opium, morphine, pamoline, LSD, methadone,  pethidine, heroin etc or depressants like benzodiazepine, Librium, diazepam-valium, barbiturates, lexotan, ativan etc.

When they take these drugs, they begin to speak nonsense as if they just lost their minds. Some even behave as if they see double or even triple. Others behave as if some nuts in their skull got loosed. They fail to understand that the society has got its spanner to securely put in place loosed nuts.

No wonder, when they see black, they call it white and when they see white, they say they see purple. When they saw an earthworm, they roused the whole community that they saw a cobra – a perverted generation. Tufia! Who will save them?

I wonder what they will say when they see a jackal. May be, they will say that they saw a female demon, walking naked at the Muu Nzorpiriko, which we all know…”

“Please, allow him to speak on Chief Vigaage,” demanded the Paramount Ruler.

“May be, I did not put it well,” Ndaki regretted. “Mbomkoo is killed – his head violently, mercilessly and flagrantly cut off just about forty minutes ago, right under my nose.”

The matter is now becoming interesting.

“So, who killed Mbomkoo and where is his headless body now?” queried the Paramount Ruler.

“Oooooh! My chiefs,” he lamented. “May my eyes never again see what I saw today until the day I will join my ancestors in peace if God in heaven will give me more grace to…”

He was interrupted impatiently again by Madam Cash, the Community Women Leader, who apparently roared.

“Who is the person that killed our dear Mbomkoo, Ndaki?”

  “I was shocked beyond every measure, Women Leader” declared Ndaki, “that the same person is he whom we entrust the care of our young children to, who himself is the two times overall winner of the highly-cherished Esdross Oil Prize for Farming – I mean Chief Tomka.”

The mention of the name caused great shock and disbelief. Ndaki correctly read the peoples’ minds.

“I was as shocked as you all now, for I never expected the famous Chief Tomka to be capable of murdering a rat not to mention an innocent, docile, harmless and pacific madman like Mbomkoo.”

The Paramount Ruler could not believe what he was hearing. He knew the people he was leading. Murder accusation attributed to Chief Tomka was like the farthest west from the farthest east. They do not come close at all. In fact, if he were to utter out, Chief Tomka, to him, was the most righteous man in Kpaabee and possibly beyond. Linking him to murder appeared not just possible. It was like a case of white and black – they have nothing in common. He could not know what to make out of it at the moment. 

There were some names that when mentioned, he would be tempted to simply conclude within himself, that they committed the crime even before hearing the facts of the case. Certainly, Chief Tomka’s name was not among such. The reason was that the others lived questionable lives, quite different from Chief Tomka.

Even as a chief within the past year, he had brought a measure of sanity and godliness to the Council of Chiefs. Bribery, avarice, corruption, anger, lying, truncating justice, drunkenness, stealing, revelry etc were conspicuously out of his dictionary. He always smiled and his mien depicted one somewhere between God and men.

Each time the Council of Chiefs gathered for their meetings, everybody knew that the person that would likely be called upon by the Paramount Ruler to pray was Chief Tomka. In fact, the Paramount Ruler, at some point, started calling him ‘Our Pastor.’

 When he prayed, the atmosphere was very solemn. It could be comparable to when Jesus was with the disciples. Peace and tranquility would immediately pervade the council. Every chief attested to that obvious fact.

Oh, how good for one to serve God, the Paramount Ruler would think after each of his prayers.

 He was the youngest among them. Despite the fact that he was over forty, he still had a baby face. He lived a stress-free life. Besides, he was comely. His innocent, constantly-smiling face, coupled with his right attitudes, made people love him. Apart from that, hard work tended to be his second name.   

So, you see, it was very difficult for the Paramount Ruler to even understand what Ndaki was saying. It seemed to him momentarily as the talk of a grade-one drunk. He queried.

“Ndaki, I believe you know the consequences of slander and false murder accusation?”

Ndaki responded hotly:

“Yes, I do, Your Majesty. It is excommunication from this land of Kpaabee, never to return.”

Everybody was shocked. The case was becoming more interesting.

“So where did he keep the headless body and what did he do with the head,” the Paramount Ruler queried.

“The headless body lies in the pool of his blood in his hut at the Bara Nkobaa woods. He put his head into one bag and his clothes into another. I do not know what he intended doing with neither the clothes nor the head. When I could no longer bear the gory sight, I had to cry all the way to your palace. That is my story, my chiefs.”

As Ndaki was replying the Paramount Ruler, he was demonstrating in the façade of utmost sincerity. He was so stern to the extent that the chiefs and people of Kpaabee were thrown into serious confusion.

Have they been mistaking the true identity of Chief Tomka? Was Ndaki lying? And if he was, why should he especially in connection with murder, when everybody, excepting may be children under ten, knew the consequences of false murder accusation. Murder is murder, the personality of the murdered inconsequential.

After a period of absorption, HRH Chief Monsigiaa spoke, ordering.

“Chiefs Zorasi and Nzoova, lead a section of these people to the Bara Nkobaa woods and verify the claims by Ndaki. You, Chiefs Nvingah and Aleelo, lead three guards here – Otoo, Lekunuke and Tombari, to Chief Tomka’s home. Arrest him here immediately. Everybody should leave now and report at the Village Square tomorrow by 7am for the trial.

The crowd dispersed, some following Chief Zorasi’s group, some, Chief Nvingah’s, while the rest, to their homes.

The Chief Zorasi’s group went and saw the lifeless and headless body as reported, confirming Ndaki’s report. The Chief Nvingah’s group arrested and locked Chief Tomka in the community cell, fully secured. Then, they left for their homes.

                                               CHAPTER  SEVEN

That night was an uneasy one. A large, unidentified black bird kept crying throughout the village from one tree to the other and from one roof to the other. The people are aware of the fact that when such a thing happens, it is either a grave injustice is about to happen or it has already happened and there is the need for rescission to avert an impending calamity. It might be that the king is about to die or a very serious disaster is about to happen. This is a strategy by their fore fathers, the Kpaabee people believe, to make them aware and beware of the calamity and if possible, avert it or prepare for it if it cannot be averted.

The last time this situation arose was seven years earlier, when the people of Kpooro, without warning or even at least sending emissaries, entered their land and killed and killed. 

There was something sinister about the unidentified black bird and the people knew it.  But how could they completely decipher which atrocity was or was about to be committed? 

Was the Paramount Ruler about to die as it happened two days before his own father died? Was the unidentified black bird crying, seeking for punishment to be meted on the perpetrators of the gruesome murder of Mbomkoo or was it announcing the innocence of Chief Tomka and at the same time, warning of the impending doom should he be killed blindly?  

In any case, the people knew that all was not well with Kpaabee. “The toad does not hop in the day time under the hot sun for nothing. It is either it is pursuing something or something is pursuing it”, one of their adages goes.

The cry became much that the villagers became concerned. The Paramount Ruler himself could not sleep early. When he finally did around 1:30am, he saw Tomka in a dream with two masked men, whom he could not identify, pursuing him. He ran and inadvertently fell into a deep pit filled about two-thirds with water. Instead of helping him out, both men used a long plank to pin him down until he was almost dead. As the Paramount Ruler was looking and as the two men were doing this, he saw two other men who cut the sticks with which the first two used in pinning him down. Then, he heard the sound of a loud thunder.  Suddenly, a man dressed in white whose face shone like light, stood behind the first two, unseen by them.

He gave the first man a hot slap that deflated him just as balloon does. Then, he faced the second man and also gave him another reverberating hot slap. This also deflated him in like manner. After that, he faced Tomka in the pit. Immediately, a very long ladder appeared from nowhere and leaned against the wall of the pit. Then he shouted with a loud voice:

“Elder Tomka, servant of the Most High God, get strength, get up and climb up here.”

As the Paramount Ruler was still watching, Tomka who was almost dead, got revived immediately and frisky too. He then climbed up to meet the man in white. The man in white smiled so broadly and hugged him so tightly too. Then he tapped him gently at the back and said, still smiling:

“Live. Your God wants you to live and not die.”

After he had done that, he pushed the two deflated balloons into the pit and covered them with the heap of sand around. Then he faced the two other men who cut the sticks with which the first two used in pinning him down. He slapped them and they turned into two smoke pillars. Then he blew the two smoke pillars all the way until he reached the Muu Nzorpiriko, which is the boundary between Kpaabee and Atuuma. He stayed at the bank and continued blowing the two smoke pillars until they crossed over the stream into Atuuma. He then turned back and came to Tomka and smiled so broadly again. 

Immediately he had done that, the strange man in white disappeared, leaving only Tomka, who was looking left and right to know where he entered. Then the Paramount Ruler woke up, unable to decipher the dream.

At day break, around 7:30am, the village square was filled with people. All the remaining chiefs – Zorasi, Akpe, Aleelo, Nvingah, Nzoova, Vigaage, Kiebel and Nkaakina were fully seated.

As customary in Kpaabee, any person standing trial on murder allegation is made to sit on plantain trunk. If the accusation is true, he is led immediately to Bara Gbotaa (Land of Fairies) – an area designated for burying dead mad people, murderers and robbers. However, if false, the accusers are made to bathe the accused by coming behind the Dom Kere (Town Crier), and shouting: “the murder accusation I made against (the accuser’s name) is false Ooo!,” each time the Dom Kere hits the Kere Bon (sacred community gong). Thereafter, he is excommunicated from the community and cede all his immovable properties half to the accused and half to the community.

False murder accusation is looked at as a very serious crime in Kpaabee. It ranks among the fifth most serious crimes in Kpaabee community.

The first is murder of which its punishment is being buried alive. No person is permitted to take another person’s life.

The second is high treason of which its punishment is excommunication and forfeiture of all landed properties to the community.

The third is armed robbery of which its punishment is being paraded round the community, stark naked, with the object(s) stolen hanging on the neck, head and shoulders of the robber while the youths continually sing and beat him or her simultaneously. For instance, if the robber is a male called Nkalaloli, they would sing:

           “Nkalaloli!  Nkalaloli                                        Nkalaloli!  Nkalaloli!

           Oro o nen zip!  Oro o nen zip!                         You are a thief!  You are a thief!

           Ep vee pii a!  Ep vee pii a!                                See his manhood!  See his manhood!

Kpaabee hates stealing even more than it does human excreta.

HRM, Chief Monsigiaa directed Chief Tomka to be brought. He was decapped and ordered to sit on the plantain trunk. At this point, there was a mixture of sympathy, indifference and anger, expressed by different villagers.

“Tomka, do you know why you are sitting on the plantain trunk today?” queried the Paramount Ruler.

“I was told by the people that arrested me here that I was accused of murder,” he replied.

“And did you or did you not commit the murder?” retorted the Paramount Ruler.

“His Highness, everybody here knows that I have never, can never, cannot and will never murder no matter…”

“Answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’” shouted Chief Vigaage. ”It is only God in heaven that knows the secret of every man including murdering a docile and harmless mad man like Mbomkoo.”

“Can you deny the allegation further in the presence of the person that saw you kill Mbomkoo? The ruler reframed.

“Any accusation made against me is false.

 I did not…”

“Answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’, Tomka,” interposed Chief Nvingah, vehemently. “You are a teacher and a chief of Kpaabee. I expected you to know how to answer simple questions demanding just straightforward answers like either ‘yes’ or ‘no.’

Even my little boy, Dumka, in the village primary school which you teach, knows how to answer questions. For instance, if you ask him:

‘Dumka, is your mother in the house?’

He will simply answer you ‘yes’, if his mother is in the house or ‘no’, if his mother is not in the house. He won’t give such an answer as this (if the mother is not in the house):

‘Sir, you see, everybody in Kpaabee community knows that today is Deebom and women go to the market to buy foodstuff for their families. That market is for all of us and not for other women alone. As it stands now, there are no more foodstuffs in our house – the last ones were eaten this morning as breakfast a couple of hours ago. So, as other women are going to the market to replenish their stock of foodstuff, my own mother too has also gone to the same market like other women in order to replenish our own stock of foodstuff too.  So, as it stands now, that my mother that you are looking for today which is Deebom, is not at home at present.’

Stop giving us lecture here. We are not in the village primary school. Simply answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’. That is all we want to hear – ‘yes’ or ‘no’; nothing more.”        

“Chief Nvingah, please, give Tomka a breathing space. There is confusion in the head of every sane Kpaabee citizen regarding this matter. After all, all this is coming at this period that he is known far and near as the overall farmer in Kpaabee,” retorted Chief Akpe, an old, purblind chief.

“What are you insinuating, Chief Akpe,” queried Chief Nvingah.

“I am not insinuating anything,” he responded. “Just give him space. If he is guilty, the law will take its course. If he is innocent, he will be ‘bathed.’”

“Enough, you both, if you still value your chiefly respect,” warned the Paramount Ruler.

There was silence in the interim despite the fact that the village square was filled to the extent that people also filled the neighbouring homes of Mbatom, Nkorle, Nkposi, Nvinka and Mbaatee.

“Ndaki! Ndaki!” roared the Paramount Ruler. He came forward. “Narrate what you saw in the ears of Kpaabee,” he commanded.

Ndaki narrated how he saw Tomka kill Mbomkoo at about 7pm in his hut at the Bara Nkobaa woods.

“Our Paramount Ruler – Chief Monsigiaa, chiefs and people of Kpaabee, I greet you all. 

Everybody here knows me. I play draft but I do not drink and get drunk. Listen to me and hear what I saw around 7pm yesterday.

I went as usual to set my trap. You know that I set traps. I have sold my bush meats to many of you here. That is what I do in addition to what I get from draft betting.

 I had finished setting the trap and was returning homewards when I heard an agonizing cry  that sounded as if someone was being badly beaten or at the point of dying and was making frantic effort to live, shouting for help.

I could not figure out what the problem was until I came closer to discover that the agonizing cry was emanating from Mbomkoo’s hut and the person shouting for help was Mbomkoo himself.

I lay still because I did not know whether the murderer had another person within the vicinity that could attack me too should I shout. So, I crawled on my belly until I reached the hut premises in that twilight. The murderer did not see me for I hid behind a thicket. However, I could see him because he was using torchlight in that twilight.

He first of all, hit him with plank. That was when he shouted for help. When he became unconscious, he started cutting off his throat as we do goats. I was shocked beyond measure and was completely dumbfounded. I wanted to shout but I feared that somebody, unseen by me, might be around as his security. I only managed to know the person who was committing the gruesome murder and to my surprise, who did I see? – Chief Tomka.

While I watched, he put the head into a bag and the clothes into another and was about leaving the hut. I knew the danger that I would be in if he should see me in that mood, so I quickly ran away and crossed the Muu Nzorpiriko. Then I started shouting and alerting the community of the gruesome murder as all of you saw and heard.

That was what I saw at twilight of yesterday, chiefs and people of Kpaabee.” 

The Paramount Ruler gradually recovered from his shock and confusion.

 “Did you hear him, Tomka,” he asked.

“Yes, I did,” replied Tomka.

“You may defend yourself,” the Paramount Ruler declared. 

“People of Kpaabee community,” he started. “I greet you all. If I had known that this would be the aftermath of being the two times winner of the Esdross Oil (Nig.) Limited Farming Prize, I would not have accepted it.

As you all know, I am an elder of the Maranatha Revival Ministries, also known as the True Believers Congregation. If you could be sincere to yourselves, you all can attest and swear to the fact that I have never killed, I will never kill and I cannot kill, no matter what is at stake.

I have been teaching in our community school for the past twenty years. I teach your children with passion, not only academics but also manners and godliness which I try hard myself to practice. 

That Ndaki is standing here today, that he saw me kill in cold blood, Mbomkoo, - an innocent, peace-loving, mad man, does not make me a murderer. Why should I murder in the first place? When I was only an ordinary penny-pinching primary school teacher, with a wife and five children to feed and cater for, without any bread to butter, I did not murder. Is it now that God has heard my prayer and has started buttering my bread that I will murder? Please, reason among yourselves, His Majesty, chiefs and people of Kpaabee.

There is more to this than meets the ordinary eye, Kpaabee people. This is clearly the clever handiwork of some faceless, conniving miscreants and enemies of progress and an overtly calculated attempt to ruin me and my career, destroy my age-long reputation, see to my death and make my innocent God-fearing wife, Barizomdu, a widow and my five God-fearing children – Gabriel, Cynthia, Menele, Kakuubari the Barisitom, orphans at their tender ages and worse still, being ridiculed by their peers as the children of a murderer, reducing my family to a butt. Oh, what an utter fabrication originating from the fertile imagination of my yet-to-be-identified detractors! The architect, I must confess, must be a grade one devil-incarnate!”

“And what did you do to be so rich within a period of two years?” queried Chief Nzoova. “The size of yam, cassava and plantain tubers etc, you uproot can never be supported naturally by our soil. All point to the fact that some supernatural forces must be at play. 

Just think of it. All of us are in this community. Before now, the size of yams you uprooted from your farm at Bara Ngoi farmland zone were like plantain fingers. In fact, your cassava farm at Bara Zor-ol farmland was indeed suffering from kwashiorkor which all of us saw. Was it your farmland situated at Kpo Dubarade farmland zone? The yams you uprooted were like sticks of candle.

What happened within these two years that everything changed dramatically? Now the sizes of your garden eggs, which two years ago were like women waist beads, are now like large water cups.

Is it your cucumber? Each measures about 30×15cm2. Your tomatoes now resemble children football and you sit here to tell Kpaabee that all is well?

Take a look at your melons. One would be three times the head of Fere Mboodoo and when your wife processes them, all the other women shout in amazement. Now, only your own melon processing stand could cover over six to eight plots of cleared land. Even your own family gets tired of processing melon to the extent that you now employ people just to process melon alone.

Now two fingers of your own plantain will comfortably feed a whole family. So what happened that two years earlier your plantains looked as if they had cerebral palsy or the worst case of tuberculosis?

Or, is it your yams? They are the eighth wonder of the modern  world. How on earth do you want me, Chief Nzoova, to believe that the land of Kpaabee, which I know well or indeed any known farmland, can produce yams that can each weigh between 80 to 90kg? I, standing here, weigh 69kg, which means that many of your yams weigh more than me – a whole me. Tomka, your yams that were suffering from kwashiorkor two years ago, now have weight more than a man that has a wife and six children and you look at Kpaabee in the face and tell him that all is well?

Of a truth, if you lay one of your yams on a mat at night and somebody hits it, he would be forced to momentarily say, ‘I am sorry, Madam. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, accept my apology.’  He will only notice that he might not have been talking to a human when he will not receive any response. He will only notice that the object lying on the mat which he mistakenly took to be a woman is actually yam of the most bizarre size when he points his torchlight at the weird object.   

 Before the last twenty four months, you were only a penny-pinching village primary school teacher with just three pieces of PLEDGED farmland, each just of a plot size. Now, you have bought twelve pieces of farmland of which each measures about four plots in choice locations in Kpaabee and beyond within just two years. You that had only an old, rickety bicycle that was inherited by primogeniture from your father, now drive a direct-from-factory Rav 4 jeep and a tear-rubber Toyota Camry of the latest model. Will you still look at Kpaabee in the face and tell him that all is well?

Kpaabee will like to hear how you achieved all these within two years if you are still denying that you killed Mbomkoo.”

“That is my little secret, my fellow chiefs and Kpaabee people,” he responded. “I plead that you leave that alone and concentrate on the murder accusation. What concerns what I do to make my crops yield well and my recent blessings with the murder accusation? Please, that is my little secret that I try as much as possible to guard, lest someone else copies and takes the prize from me.”

  “If you do not take time, you will die with that your ‘little secret,’” warned Chief Vigaage sneeringly.

                                                

                                                 CHAPTER  EIGHT

“Tomka,” the Paramount Ruler called. “Do you consider it wise that you better keep your secret of bizarre farming success to yourself and risk being buried alive? Of what importance will your secret be when you are dead?

The people of Kpaabee want to know how you succeed in uprooting the kind of tubers of yam you do. Of a truth, I, the Paramount Ruler, have never seen such kinds of tubers in Kpaabee and neither had my father or any other person, dead or alive, told me.

The accusation now tends to make us have a clue to the hitherto clueless secret of your strange farming power. If you have any defense to make, why not make and let Kpaabee hear. Remember that silence means acceptance. As you can testify, Kpaabee stands for justice, fairness and equality.”

Tomka hesitated for some time and then decided to let the cat out of the bag. 

May be that might allay their suspicions, he thought.

“I cherished the Esdross Oil (Nig.) Limited Prize for Farming. I knew that I was poor. The stipends that the state government pays to me as a teacher, was so small that could hardly feed my family for three weeks, not to mention a whole month before the next salary payment was due. Even before the commencement of the prize, I was seriously brainstorming on what I could do to augment my meagre salary. I needed to feed, clothe, educate, house and in fact, take care of my family of seven – my wife and I and our five children. When the prize was announced, I was extremely happy. It seemed to me that God had answered my prayer.

I knew that there are more traditionally experienced and wealthier farmers in Kpaabee who are most likely to clinch the prize except an out-of-the-norm approach was applied. I knew that I would not win them except I had to do very serious scientific calculations, research and application and bring my education to bear on the farming which they don’t. With this understanding, I went into research, day and night, brainstorming and strategizing.

My farming activities were mostly scientific, clandestine, technical, breath-taking, modern, faith-based, laced with optimism and doggedness and garnished with whole-hearted and transparent godliness. So, this is my little secret.     

 I plant my yams, cassava, plantain etc on time. I do not burn the weeds when I weed as is the norm here. I mulch and also compound them into compost manure which Kpaabee don’t.

I manure my crops not just with chemical fertilizers as is the norm here. I compound mine using saw dust, peat, compost, pure soft wood ash, poultry droppings, animal dung and chemical fertilizer in the ratio of 15:15:20:10:10:10:20 respectively.

Even when I apply my fertilizer, I try as much as possible to identify the nutrient that is lacking in the soil first. Is it Nitrogen? Then, I would apply Urea only. This contrasts with our usual habit of applying any fertilizer we see in the market.

When the soil does not lack Nitrogen, you do not apply Urea because Urea, apart from the filler, contains almost one hundred percent Nitrogen. Instead, you apply other chemical fertilizers that would supply the nutrient or nutrients lacking. For example, if the soil lacks mainly phosphorus, you apply either single superphosphate or triple superphosphate and if potassium, any of the four common water-soluble, straight potassium fertilizers  - Potassium Chloride (commonly called Muriate of Potash), Sulphate of Potash, Potassium Magnesium Sulphate or Potassium Nitrate.

You do not just buy NPK fertilizer and add to your crops. You first of all, know the nutrients lacking in the soil by observing the morphology of the crops as well as testing soil samples.

I have a close friend working with the University of Ibadan.  He is a soil scientist. He does much of the soil tests for me. How many Kpaabee citizens do soil tests and analysis or care much about crop morphology and physiology to rightly determine the nutrient lacking in the soil before applying the fertilizer?

Apart from that, when I finally apply the fertilizer, I cover it with soil and mulch immediately I apply to each crop. This contrasts with the custom here of just broadcasting or top-dressing the fertilizer. Such practice exposes the fertilizer to being washed away should rain fall. Secondly, the power of the fertilizer is reduced as it is exposed and less of it actually enters the crops. It will be the worst if rain or a sizeable quantity of dew does not fall early. A greater portion of the chemical of the fertilizer would be lost into the atmosphere. Remember, you were not to apply fertilizer to the atmosphere but to the crops.

 I till the whole farmland, not just the planting spot as is the custom in Kpaabee and space my crops for sunlight penetration, contrasting with the custom here of giving little space with the erroneous thought of maximizing land use.

I water the whole land even during the rainy season. I understand that a sandy-loamy soil tends to be dry when sun shines on it for up to four days without a compensating rainfall. That is why you may have seen wells on my farmlands. This, the Kpaabee people do not do.

I apply laboratory-tested herbicides, germicides, pesticides, nematicides and fungicides. This negates our custom here. We hardly apply nematicides, herbicides, fungicides and pesticides. We apply only insecticides especially the age-long Aldrin dust. Even as at that, we fail to understand that there are countless, more modern and more powerful insecticides and pesticides like the Athena, Beleaf 50 SG, Brigade 2 EC, Brigade WSB, Brigadier, Carbine 50 WG, Chariot, Cheminova Malathion 57 EC, Declare, Dimethoate 4E, Fyfanon ULV – AG, Gladiator, Hero, Hero EW, Mustang, Mustang Max, Mustang Maxx, Stallion brand, Triple Crown etc that when applied to crops, could scare away insects several centimetres and of a truth, up to some metres away from the crops in particular and the whole farm in general.  

I mostly use the Hero, Mustang Max, Gladiator, Brigadier and Triple Crown. For instance, the Hero has the capability of killing about forty different insect pests while the Mustang Max has the unbelievable capability of killing about one hundred different pests on about one hundred and twenty eight different crops. That is why pests, nematodes, fungi and other destructive creatures do not near my farm, not to mention touching my crops.  

I understand vividly, the part played by pollination in the yielding of crops so I gave greater attention to it.

For the sake of people who may not understand what I mean by pollination, it is the transfer of pollen grains from the anther to the stigma of the flower of a plant. This makes the crops to start their reproduction process that makes us have the fruits like pepper, garden egg, tomato etc that we eat.

 The anther, together with the filament can be likened or taken to be the male reproductive parts of the flower just as the penis, testicle and other male organs are the male reproductive parts of a man. The stigma, together with the style and the ovary can be likened to the female reproductive parts of the flower just as the vagina, womb, ovaries, fallopian tubes and others, are the female reproductive organs of the woman.

The pollen grain itself that is transferred, can be likened to the sperm of a man that when it enters the ‘body’ of a woman, makes her egg to be fertilized, which is the beginning of pregnancy that makes a child to be born at the end of nine months. So when the pollen grains leave the anther to the stigma, fertilization, technically called pollination in the case of plants occurs; meaning that the more the pollination occurs, the more the crops yield.

With this knowledge, I did not play with pollinating my crops.

I know that insects tend to be the major agent of pollination perhaps followed by wind. Also, among the insects, butterflies, bees and moths tend to be the major agents. So I decided on culturing butterflies.

I decided on culturing butterflies because they are more docile and more pacific unlike the hostile, stinging bees.

In order not to make them escape, I fence up my farms with net. You must have seen nets fenced high up round my farms but you may not have known the purpose for it. In this way, the netting keeps the butterflies within the farm and only very few escape.

That is the reason why where my farm neighbours would harvest four bags, I would harvest ten and even more – the ‘imprisoned’ butterflies do the magic of mass pollinating the flowers of my crops in addition to the painstaking hand pollination that I do.

Which Kpaabee citizen hand pollinates his crops? Certainly, I do not think any Kpaabee citizen takes these pains I do to achieve extra-bountiful harvest.

Air is needed for good plant germination, growth and productivity. Without it, your crops will certainly not survive. For instance, nitrogen is a colourless and odourless gas that comprises of about four-fifths of the earth’s atmosphere by volume - 78%, percentage wise. It is wonderfully needed by plants in its nitrate form being fixed into the soil mainly by the nitrogen-fixing bacteria and thunderstorm.  It is almost the most important element needed by plants. The soil also needs other gases like oxygen and water vapour just as the plants themselves need carbon di-oxide with which they use in the preparation of their food using the energy of the sun through a process called photosynthesis. Apart from these, the crops also need many other elements in the soil which together make them grow well. There is therefore the need for proper air circulation in the soil.  

Nothing effects air circulation in the soil than earthworms. They dig and crisscross holes in the soil that do not only serve the purpose of bringing dead and decaying organic matter like leaves, carcasses, left-over foods, organic debris, water etc into the soil but also allowing air and plant nutrients  to penetrate the soil.

With this knowledge, I did not play with the “holes.” I employed the services of many little children whom I mobilized to dig up earthworms in their hundreds for me. I then poured them evenly on my farms in the evenings and then water the whole land. Before daybreak, they had all entered the soil and made their new homes on my farms.

Is there any Kpaabee citizen that does this?

 I specifically speak to the crops and tell them what I want – good harvest. I believe that since they are alive, they can hear me. I treat and look at my crops as if they were humans. For instance, if I mistakenly match or injure any crop, I solemnly apologize to it immediately and make amends. How many Kpaabee citizens do this? In fact, even as I speak, such acts sound nonsensical in the ears of many of you. It may also sound diabolical in the ears of some others too.

Most importantly, I go spiritual – faithfully praying to God fervently and sincerely paying my tithes of all. I take a day fasting before each planting season and I give the first fruits of my harvest to God. How many Kpaabee citizens faithfully do these?

Let the Council of Chiefs handle this matter well, else they will bury alive an innocent man only to regret at the end. It has happened before. Let us learn from our past mistakes,” he concluded.

There was silence everywhere – a moment of absorption, thinking and rethinking.

There was a very great sense in his defense. There was very little doubt in the minds of the Kpaabee people who were listening to him that such skillful, thoughtful and painstaking approach to his farming could definitely make him excel. After all, they had not been taking many of the troubles and precautions he let them know he took. Of a truth, if not the time he told them, they did not have the faintest idea that such things were going on. It looked like a scene where a Professor of Agronomy was lecturing high school students Crop Husbandry. So many people learnt new techniques that day.

For up to three minutes after he ended his defense, nobody uttered a word. Everywhere was calm. The chiefs and people of Kpaabee were lost in thought, seriously brainstorming on the best way to unravel the mystery. 

Was Ndaki lying when he said he saw Tomka kill Mbomkoo? If he was, then who did since he pointed at no one but Tomka? On the other hand, the people found it very difficult to believe that he was speaking the truth, for almost all of them knew the kind of person Tomka was. Apart from that, his defense was perfect and there was very little doubt in the minds of those present that such meticulous, thoughtful and concerted effort could make him harvest the kind of farm produce he publicly displayed that earned him the two times winner of the highly cherished Esdross Oil (Nig.) Limited Farming Prize.

The onus therefore was on the Paramount Ruler, Council of Chiefs and indeed, Kpaabee, to uncover beyond reasonable doubt that Tomka actually killed Mbomkoo or that Ndaki was lying. May be, he killed Mbomkoo, and for certain unknown reasons, decided to heap the murder accusation on Tomka. If Tomka did not kill Mbomkoo, the onus was then on them to uncover that Ndaki or any other person else committed the murder.

They had to be very careful so that the mistake of the past won’t repeat itself.

__________________________________________________________

 During the third year of the lengthy reign of His Highness, Chief Kobaatogo Lekova Ndorbu, the father and predecessor of the present paramount ruler, His Highness, Chief Johnson Monsigiaa Kobaatogo, an innocent man - the last wood carver of Kpaabee, was put to death by hanging, from a false and malicious accusation, peddled by Dumtanee, a local blacksmith. The man’s name was Kimanyieke N-Op. Each time that the Kpaabee people reflect on the incident, it always send cold shivers up and down their spines. 

One early morning, as early as 7am, the people of Kpaabee woke up to discover that the artefacts and indeed the major shrine elements of the Kpaabee Deity Shrine, especially the many-century-old, carved, wooden figures, which the people believe were handed over to them by the spirits of Kpaabee, were no more.

Everybody stood mouth-agaped. Many momentarily contemplated relocating to the neighbouring communities – for they knew the disastrous effect such would have on the people. Definitely, the gods must react and to the best of their knowledge, their reaction would not just be bad; it must progress from bad to worse and finally to worst.

In their amazement, bewilderment and acute panic, Dumtanee suddenly came from nowhere and ran to the Paramount Ruler.

“His Highness, live forever,” he started. “While I was easing myself in the bush yesterday, I saw Kimanyieke N-Op, the village woodcarver, carry carved images from the Kpaabee Deity Shrine and crossed the Muu Nzorpiriko. I did not at first know from where he got the carved images until I had to follow him, unknowing to him.”

“So, why didn’t you alert the people or come to me since last night,” the Paramount Ruler asked.

“I thought that you sent him. We all know that he carved many of the village masks, like the ‘Amanikpo’, ‘Ngbotum’, ‘Gbara Teera’ and ‘Mpio’ masks. I thought that, being a woodcarver, the community gave him another contract to carve new wooden figures for the Kpaabee Deity Shrine and dispose off the age-old figures,” he responded.

The Paramount Ruler thought on the response and felt that it was logical.

“Are you sure of what you are saying?” the Paramount Ruler queried, to be sure that Dumtanee was saying the truth.

“May the anger of the Kpaabee Deity fall on me if I lie,” he swore.

Based on the self-imposed oath sworn by Dumtanee, the then paramount ruler thought that he might be speaking the truth and demanded that they bring Kimanyieke immediately.

Dumtanee, himself, knew the grave consequences of swearing falsely using the name of the Kpaabee Deity while the shrine was still composed. Now that the shrine was no better than a madman’s house, he was of the opinion that the deity would not harm him. After all, where was he when his shrine was mercilessly desecrated? He would use that period to repay Kimanyieke, unharmed, he thought.

When Kimanyieke came, the Paramount Ruler did not ask him whether or not he was the person who desecrated the shrine. He simply asked him why he should do so.

“Why did you desecrate the Kpaabee Deity Shrine, Kimanyieke?” His Highness, Chief Kobaatogo Lekova Ndorbu asked.

He responded that he was not the person who desecrated the shrine.

“Then, who did?” inquired the Paramount Ruler.

“I do not know,” he replied.

The Paramount Ruler prodded. “Can you still deny the grave allegation in the presence of the witness – I mean the person who saw you desecrate the Kpaabee Deity Shrine?”

“I did not desecrate the Kpaabee Deity Shrine,” Kimanyieke responded again. “Besides, who in his right senses, will even dream of desecrating the Kpaabee Deity Shrine, when we all know the grave consequences that will follow such senseless act?

The Kpaabee Deity is deadly. I did not and cannot, whether drunk or sober, desecrate his shrine or even make an attempt at that. If not for anything, His Majesty, I still love the taste of garri and I still want to provide for my wife and children, lest, destitution becomes their portion in this wicked world. I did not desecrate the shrine and nobody saw me did so either. It would be a pleasure to see the person who claims saw me desecrate the dreaded Kpaabee Deity Shrine”. 

The Paramount Ruler called in the village blacksmith – Dumtanee. He still, in Kimanyieke’s presence, repeated what he told the Paramount Ruler; this time, in the presence of the chiefs and the Kpaabee people.

 Normally, when situations arose, where the accused denied the accusation leveled against him or her, while the witness was still insisting that the accused committed the act which he is accused of, and especially where there were no witnesses to either affirm or negate the accusation, the Kpaabee people did resort to the Kpaabee Deity to uncover the truth. But how could they resort to the deity when it was the shrine of the deity in question that was badly, openly, flagrantly and unrepentantly desecrated?

The Paramount Ruler and the chiefs, therefore, came to the conclusion that Dumtanee was actually the person who desecrated the shrine basing their conclusion on the following premises:

Firstly, there was a witness who came out openly and voluntarily. He did not hide. He was wide-eyed and sounded real.

Secondly, the witness, even without being made to swear, gave himself a self-imposed oath in the name and presence of the Kpaabee Deity. Such boldness could only come from one who was sincere except if the person was too tired of living in this land of the living and really wanted to go to his great-grandfather and the fathers before, without experiencing the trauma that people who commit suicide went through before they finally died. 

Thirdly and most importantly, it was quite logical for a woodcarver to steal carved images. He should know more the value of carved images. It would be illogical for a farmer, fisherman, mechanic, tailor, teacher or bricklayer to steal carved images. What would they do with them in the first place?

They all knew that Kimanyieke carved images and sold them at good prices even to the neighbouring communities and beyond. These, they used for their masquerades, house decorations and even as shrine artefacts. 

Perhaps he got an urgent request which he felt that he might not meet up within the time frame if he were to carve them one by one to the taste and desire of his clients. Based on that, he might have thought of the shrine images and then went the previous day to commit the felony, they reasoned.  

Fourthly, the accuser said it happened around 8pm, the previous day. Coincidentally, the people that passed there around 6.30pm that fateful day, confirmed that as at then, the shrine was intact – exactly how it used to be while the person that passed around few minutes past 9, observed that the shrine was in total disarray – very unusual. This exactness in timing also added to make Dumtanee’s report cogent.

Fifthly, what would Dumtanee gain by lying against Kimanyieke and more especially, doing so in the name of the Kpaabee Deity? At least, they could see that both of them were not enemies neither had they any open disagreement.

Despite the woodcarver’s plea of “not guilty,” they went ahead to hang him at the front of the shrine, obviously as a sacrifice to appease the Kpaabee Deity, whose anger and destruction they know to be swift, destructive and wild-fire-like. 

Before hanging him, they rubbed him white clay, tied him red wrapper and shaved him, almost removing the scalp. Then the Paramount Ruler and the chiefs washed their hands on behalf of the Kpaabee people and then, poured the water on him.

After they had done that, they removed the pedestal. After he had struggled fruitlessly for about two minutes, he vomited blood and messed himself up with his own excreta. His eyes defocused while his tongue protruded from his mouth left wise. Then, he gave up the ghost.

                                             

                                 

                                                   CHAPTER  NINE

What happened the following morning as repercussion will never be forgotten by any Kpaabee citizen. Muu Nzorpiriko, which the previous day had reached up to the chest of a six-foot man, dried up to sand level. While Kpaabee was still grieving over that, the following day, eight mysterious mountain-like hills grew overnight and blocked the eight entrances and outlets of Kpaabee. None could go out or come in except through the bush.

As if that was not yet okay, all the male children born to Kpaabee that year died in a day. All died the same way – vomited blood with tongue protruding from their mouth left wise after they had messed up themselves heavily with their own excreta. All together, a total of one hundred and seven male children died that day and in the same manner.

There was loud cry and wailing in so many compounds. Kpaabee looked grim - like sheep without shepherd. Everybody was confused.

In their misery, confusion and shock, the people of Bon Gor invaded their community settlement and farmlands. They slaughtered every male that came out to stop them. They uprooted cassava, cocoyam, and yam; cut plantain, pineapples etc and loaded them in trucks, wheelbarrows, bicycles, basins, carts etc to their community. Before nightfall, they had killed up to two hundred and forty young men, raped over three hundred women and carted away house properties worth millions of naira.

Out of fear, the remaining population, seeing what happened to others, deserted the community. Even the Paramount Ruler disguised and was smuggled out. 

The Paramount Ruler, His Highness, Chief Kobaatogo Lekova Ndorbu and his Council of Chiefs, in their grief, consulted a sorcerer to at least get a clue of what was going on and possibly, the solution.

  As for the chief priest of the Kpaabee Deity Shrine, he could not render any assistance. To start with, his staff – the most basic of his paraphernalia, was not with him. It was among the items carted away and destroyed. He was as helpless as any other person. So, the Paramount Ruler and the chiefs did not even bother to consult him.     

   The sorcerer let them know that they had killed an innocent man and his spirit, a very strong, strange and angry one was responsible for the deaths. That was why all that died, died the same way.

As for the drying of the Muu Nzorpiriko stream, the sudden eruption of the mountain-like hills and the menace and agony experienced from the attack from Bon Gor – a community Kpaabee could massacre and decimate before nightfall, that was the anger of the Kpaabee Deity, for neglecting him before sentencing an innocent man to death in his presence. That they should have rather done that at Bara Gbotaa if they really wanted the death of somebody hastily.

“We thought that that would appease him. Besides, the shrine was grossly desecrated,” the Paramount Ruler explained.

“Apart from that, we all thought that Kimanyieke, the Village Woodcarver was guilty,” added Chief Akpe, the only surviving chief of the Paramount Ruler, who is now very old – the oldest in the present Paramount Ruler’s cabinet.

(The other chiefs had died and joined their ancestors just like the Paramount Ruler did, leaving the throne to his son, His Highness, Chief Johnson Monsigiaa Kobaatogo – the present Paramount Ruler. Chief Akpe was then the youngest of all the chiefs – thirty two. Now he was the oldest in the present cabinet – almost ninety four and evidently nearing his grave.)

The sorcerer told the Paramount Ruler and the chiefs that there was a more serious situation that made Kpaabee more susceptible to the attack from Bon Gor community, despite Kpaabee’s anger – the presence of “the god of the people that clap.”

“What do you mean by ‘the god of the people that clap?’” inquired the Paramount Ruler.

“Oh, the Almighty God – he that created you and me,” he revealed frankly and grimly too. “No one can challenge his supremacy – not Kpaabee Deity; not Ee Gbara; not Khian – the god of dwarfism; not Gonwa Taa; Loole Goni; Zor kol -  the god whose shrine is in the forest and whose river, nobody bathes and the fishes in it, nobody eats; not Bari Mogho; Nkonwa; Naakpaa – whose shrine is always opened twenty four hours every day; Not Soo e kpaa – the deity that kills that same day; not Kobaatogo – the deity that you are named after and not even Kporo Kinah – the deity that I serve.

Even going from Gokana to Igbo land, none of the deities there has power that is one percent that of the Almighty God. In fact, the whole pantheon trembles at his presence. Ubini Ukpabi, also known as the Arochukwu Long Juju, cannot match his little finger. Idemili – whose shrine is at Obosi in Anambra State; Amadi-Oha – the god of thunder and lightning; Agwu; Ogbun-abali – the death god that kills at night; Igwekala; Anwu; Njoku ji – the yam deity; Ala – deity of the earth and fertility etc, all scurry into their abodes like frightened geckos when he appears.

In fact, the Igbo people call him ‘Chineke’ or ‘Chukwu’ – ‘The Great Spirit’.

Or is it the Yorubas? They call him ‘Olodumare’ – God, The Creator. Oranmiyan – the son of Oduduwa bows in his presence; the thunder of Sango – the god of thunder, turns to water and foam when he arrives and all the war weapons of Ogun – the god of iron and war, become chaff when he speaks. Erinle – the god of medicine, Esu – the god of tricks, Soponna – the god of poxes, Ozain – the god of the forest, Ochumare – the god of the rainbow, Osun – the god of water, Orunmila – the god of wisdom and divination etc, all wake up in the morning to say, ‘Ese Gon Gon, Baba’ – ‘Thank You So Much, Father’.

The gods of this earth are surely powerful as you know and have seen on several occasions been displayed, but power is in different levels. That is the bitter and obvious truth,” he grinned.

The Paramount Ruler was lost in thought regarding this new revelation and insight concerning the new religion. He, himself, had refused them when they approached him for a piece of land on which to build their church. He had thought that they had come to trouble the land and “put sand” into the worship of the Kpaabee Deity. For the same reason, he, for more than half of his reign, only allowed The Roman Catholic Church, The Celestial Church, The Cherubim And Seraphim” and grudgingly, “Tor Bari Mpoko”.

He allowed “Tor Bari Mpoko” – the leading church that clap, but on the condition that they would not sing and dance round the community. All their activities should be within their church premises. They should not prevent their members from participating in the community festivals and other community affairs. This did not go down well with the church and so the church had got litigations against the community and especially, The Amanikpo Society - their arch enemy.

For instance, one major case was the Blood Oath of 1952. Kpaabee, at that time, had a lot of witches, wizards and men and women who practiced evil sorcery. Pregnant women died mysteriously; children died like rats while the adults, apart from dying mysteriously, had different ailments that could not be diagnosed.

 The purpose of the Blood Oath was to forestall further occurrence of the ugly situations. The Chief Priest of the Kpaabee Deity was the priest administering the oath.

Every Kpaabee citizen was to subject himself or herself to the chief priest, who would prick their bodies with a sharp razor blade and then collect up to three or four drops of blood, put all into the “Gbere Bu Kpaabee” – the large Kpaabee Deity Wooden Bowl. Then, he fetched ten litres of water from the “Muu Zor kol, - the water from the “Zor Kol” deity sacred stream, mixed the two together and allowed it to remain in the presence of Kpaabee Deity for a period of five days. Then, on the sixth day, everybody stood at the shrine to take the oath”.

  “Tor Bari Mpoko” was the only denomination that stood against the practice. Every other denomination joined in the evil practice, principally for fear of ostracism, bewitchment and the likes. The church wrote to the community that they would rather prefer swearing, if at all they would, using the Holy Bible and the oath administered by their pastor, and not the concoction prepared by the Kpaabee Deity Chief Priest to be administered on them in the name of oath taking. That to them, that was tantamount to idolatry, fetishism, heathenism and a grave sign of backsliding. 

 The community refused both options in toto; that everybody must swear from the “Gbere Bu Kpaabee” with the Kpaabee Deity Chief Priest officiating. 

The ground was ready for war, both physical and spiritual. When the oppression from the community became so severe, the church had to go into litigation to safeguard her members. At the end, the church won the case. The court held that every Nigerian had freedom of religion, thought and conscience. That forcing or even trying to force any Kpaabee citizen or any person at all to take an oath was an exercise in infringing on their right to freedom of worship, thought and conscience and any further attempt, the perpetrators would be made to dance the music that would be played.

The sorcerer continued. “He was with them the night that the Kpaabee Deity was desecrated by only three men from Bon Gor.

Bon Gor had planned to attack Kpaabee as they did. These three men felt that they might not succeed if they did not disarm Kpaabee first. They knew that should they desecrate the Kpaabee Deity Shrine, there would be chaos as it happened and worse more, the deity would not be able to fight for his people. So, they sought the face of the Almighty God for three whole days and nights, without food, without water. The main agenda was that he should assist, empower and protect them in their unprecedented adventure.

Of a truth, the people had a great faith. It was them, assisted by few Bon Gor citizens that actually desecrated the Kpaabee Deity Shrine and not the Kimanyieke, the village woodcarver that you rashly killed.”

“And the Kpaabee Deity did not strangle them?” retorted Chief Popnvin Gboto impatiently.

“Certainly, none can; not when the creator was with them. Of a truth, Kpaabee Deity ran when he saw them coming. They carried an unknown kind of fire, thunder and brimstone. The heat with its awesomeness was too enormous for Kpaabee Deity and indeed other sympathetic deities to even look upon, not to mention coming closer. That would be an attempt on suicide mission. 

He ran to Loole Goni and others to narrate the experience. Within minutes, all of them appeared at the scene, mouth agape, completely dumbfounded.

In their presence, all the major shrine elements were carted away and worse still, flagrantly burnt. These elements and artefacts included: “Kpoo ne Ka Kpaabee” – “the Strength and Dignity of Kpaabee” – represented by the lion’s bone and eagle’s feathers, which flanked the shrine. With these intact, Kpaabee was strong and indomitable in wars.

Apart from that, the Gbere Bu Kpaabee – “Great Kpaabee Wooden Bowl,” was also destroyed. It was from that bowl that the Kpaabee Deity did eat. Now he cannot eat again from Kpaabee, for his bowl has been unrepentantly burnt. You know that when sacrifice is made, or when goat, fowl or other living sacrificial creatures are slaughtered at the shrine or money is paid to the Kpaabee Deity, the sacrificed item or its blood as the case may be, or the money, was usually deposited in the Gbere Bu Kpaabee first as a sacrifice to him.

The Daago – “cowries” and the Aa Kpege – “manilas”, which signify the wealth of Kpaabee were also taken away and burnt. You know that cowries and manilas were generally used as media of exchange in Africa before the advent of money in coin and paper form. Those were the traditional legal tender.

The effect is that Kpaabee now become poor spiritually – her prosperity has been stolen and burnt. Kpaabee now lies helplessly poor; at least you can see that even with your naked eyes.

Even the Gbere Ge be ne Diila Kpaabee - “the Great Machete and the Arrow of Kpaabee”, were also carted away. As I speak with you, the charred remains lay waste at Bon Gor community – completely deformed and powerless.

Oh, the fire of that night really did cruel and unimaginable things to Kpaabee!

The Kpaabee Deity used the Gbere Ge be and the Diila for war. So how could he fight in the first place? As it stands now, the Kpaabee Deity that usually carried along almost every minute, his sacred bow and arrow, is completely bereft of every war material. He moves at present with only his bare hands.

Don’t also lose sight of the fact that the Gbere Ge be Kpaabee was the material that the Kpaabee Deity used to clear the Kpaabee land, including both the settlement and the farmlands and then used the Gbere Diila to fight and protect the land from usurpers. 

Oh, the fire did cruel things to Kpaabee! I dare say, it would take some time for things to be normal again.

The Kpaabee Deity Priest as it stands now won’t even know the mind of the deity, neither will he be able to divine or decide cases. The precious seven-century-old traditional urim and thummim of the Kpaabee Deity Shrine were among the items carted and burnt. As I speak with you, the charred remains lie waste at Bon Gor.”

“Can’t they be retrieved and continue their usefulness to, not only Kpaabee but also the generality of the people that patronize and worship the deity?”

“Retrieved?” interposed the sorcerer and then laughed sarcastically.

“What do you want to do with ‘charcoal?’ They are now like ordinary gravels picked by children from along the road. For now, we can only say, ‘how are the mighty fallen!’ and then strategize on how to make the mighty rise again.”

Even the Gbere Easi Kpaabee – “the Great Kpaabee Mirror,” through which the Kpaabee Deity reveals secret things to Kpaabee people through his Chief Priest, was mercilessly shattered into unimaginable shreds. They almost ground it to powder. The destroyers made sure that every traditional mean of communication, revelation and information was shattered. 

Oh, the fire did cruel things to Kpaabee!   

The sorcerer, himself, was now so sad – completely burdened by how Kpaabee Deity – the personal friend of his god – “Kporo Kinah,” was badly disgraced. He could not conceal it any longer. He got up and paced round the earth floor of his shrine, looking into nowhere in particular, yet he was looking. The Paramount Ruler and the chiefs were sitting down wondering what made him sadder than before.

He went to the window of the shrine room, obviously seen to be agonizingly thinking. He looked at the chiefs, sighed and turned away his face, looking into nowhere again. Then, he dropped the bombshell.

“The Kpaabee Deity is hiding.”

“Hiding?” retorted the chiefs and the Paramount Ruler in unison.

“Oh yes, hiding,” responded the sorcerer.

“Why is he hiding?” They inquired.

The sorcerer looked at them and chuckled. Then he thought of a better way to let them understand the gravity of the scenario. He sat down though still very sad.

“Who among you can describe how the Kpaabee Deity shrine used to look like?” He asked.

The chiefs thought for a long time and then Chief Normate Npakua spoke.

“The shrine was usually bounded by red cloth commonly called ‘danger’ on the left hand side and black cloth, natively called ‘bira turu’ on the right. Then the entrance was usually barricaded by a combination of danger and ‘bira turu’. Then, on the outer gate was woven palm frond in the form of doorpost, through which every soul entering the shrine must pass. This served as the door of the outer gate. Then on the second, inner gate made of unwoven palm frond, hung ‘The Eepaa Kpaabee’ – ‘The Kpaabee White Cloth’, which completely covered the shrine even from the view of the people within the shrine yard.”  

“Thank you. You spoke well,” the sorcerer replied. “But are any of these things there not even mentioning whether they are in their proper positions or not?

The chiefs were momentarily silent.

“Please, answer me, chiefs. I thought you asked me a question before now,” he prodded.

They answered that none of the materials were there not to mention being in their proper places.

“I see! I see! I see! interjected the sorcerer. Then he made a long, sarcastic laughter that completely puzzled the chiefs. Then he stopped abruptly and looked intently at the Paramount Ruler – eyeball to eyeball. Then he revealed sharply.

“The Kpaabee Deity is hiding because he is stark naked. He is ashamed of coming outside. Can you leave your bathroom to your parlour stark naked – I mean without even your pant on? “Can you?” 

The sorcerer was now becoming very angry at the scenario and sad too.

“Can you leave your parlour to your neighbour’s compound without even pant to cover your manhood? Can you? Can you? Answer me, Your Highness. Answer me,” roared the sorcerer angrily; obviously seen to be angrier at the scenario than everybody else.

“No, I can’t, replied His Highness, Chief Kobaatogo Lekova Ndorbu, the Paramount Ruler.

“That is why the Kpaabee Deity is hiding. Just like you, he cannot come outside because he is ashamed of his nakedness. All the materials that acted as his clothes were mercilessly burnt within the twinkle of an eye,” he explained softly, tenderly, solemnly, yet, emotionally.

                                                     

                                                    CHAPTER  TEN

At this point, the anger of the chiefs towards the people of Bon Gor was almost at boiling point.

“I swear that by this time tomorrow, Bon Gor will be a desert land. Let the Kpaabee Deity strangle me if I do not fight for him,” declared Chief Akpe, the youngest among them.

“Chief Akpe,” the sorcerer called. “Let me ask you a question. ‘Do you love your wife and your new-born baby?’”

“Oh yes, I do!” He replied.

“Then, if you cannot bear to see the head of your only son being smashed at that mango tree in your compound, while his delicate brain scatter in a million directions, do not go to war tomorrow. Don’t even go the day after tomorrow. In fact, don’t even go next week or next month. Six months from today may be too early, Chief Akpe, except you want your skull to be used by Bon Gor chiefs and warriors as cup for drinking their early morning palm wine.

Chief Akpe, one more question for you. ‘Can you bear to watch ten strong men of Bon Gor community tear apart the womanhood of your lovely, beautiful, twenty-two-year-old wife in a gang rape while she collapses and dies in their hand, before your eyes, yet they won’t stop until the last man has taken his ‘portion?’ ”

“No, I can’t,” replied Chief Akpe.

“Then, sheath your sword for now and arrange your house first. His Highness, strategize. Plan well, Kpaabee chiefs. Arrange your house because your house is extremely scattered. Do not take rash actions because you will fail if you do. Don’t say that you were not earlier informed.

Which type of fight do you think to fight when even the teraphim – the representatives of all the gods of Kpaabee, were carted away and burnt? As we speak, none of them have even the bluntest sword. Even if they should fight, is it not through their teraphim that they will fight and communicate with the chief priest who will in turn communicate with you?

Oh, the fire did cruel things to Kpaabee! I am not sure that Bon Gor community knows the extent of spiritual damage they did to Kpaabee.

To make matters worse, even the staff of the chief priest – his basic symbol of authority, which we can liken to the ‘maxim gun’ of the war commander that ‘inspires the most profound respect,’ was also among the items carted and destroyed. ‘The people that clap’ used their anointing oil on it before burning it. Come and see it.”

He conjured and invoked and the charred staff appeared on the ‘screen’ of his shrine mirror. It was not better than an ordinary piece of rusted metal.

Did I hear somebody talk about fighting Bon Gor tomorrow? With what power does the person thinks he can fight when even the Kpaabee figurine itself, was among the items carted away and burnt? Come and see the charred remains of the eight-hundred-year-old Kpaabee figurine – completely burnt to ashes.”

He commanded and the ash heap appeared on the ‘screen’ of his shrine mirror.

“Strategize, chiefs of Kpaabee. Strategize. I am ready to give more of my spiritual advice, insight and help re-constitute the excessively desecrated Kpaabee Deity shrine.

You do not need to let me remind you that we have a common enemy here. That enemy is not Bon Gor. This may surprise some of you. The real enemy is ‘the people that clap,’ not minding their community. It was through them that Kpaabee fell, not just through the people of Bon Gor. You and I know that naturally Bon Gor could not, cannot and can never withstand Kpaabee. Something happened – the presence of the Almighty God among them, brought by ‘the people that clap’.  

Be informed rightly so that you can act rightly and not misfire, which to the best of my knowledge, will be very disastrous.

When you are ready for us to swing into action, come back again to me that we may have joint and concerted effort, targeted directly at the real enemies.

Smite the shepherd and the sheep will scatter. Destroy the foundation and the house will collapse. Bind the strong man and you will gain easy access to the house.

I rest for now. Come back to me when you are set,” he concluded.

“Oh, that Dumtanee! May the thunder of the god of ‘the people that clap’, together with that of the Kpaabee Deity strike him to death. Why should he let this befall Kpaabee?” lamented Chief Gbaraka Lekunuke rhetorically, obviously to sound the sorcerer out on the reason behind Dumtanee slandering Kimanyieke and what or how his punishment should be like.

The sorcerer was not a mere boy. He understood rhetorical questions, proverbs, idioms and the likes of them perfectly and the purpose behind each of them. He was determined, even from the beginning, to let the perturbed Paramount Ruler and his chiefs know the details of their agony. After all, they had paid him a mouth-watering consultation fee – a fully-mature male goat, whose smell pervaded his compound and a bag of manila, at a time when manila was real money.

Immediately they would leave, he thought, he would call his wife in and send her to the market to buy the food items needed. Though he was importuned, he was bent on unraveling the mystery behind their ordeal and relate to them the way forward.

He chuckled and grinned and then responded.

“Hatred and jealousy. It was all because of a woman – the wife of Kimanyieke.

Dumtanee was actually the man who first courted her but he lacked the wherewithal to marry her at the right time. Leesi was a very beautiful woman in her youth. Any man who saw her loved her. Kimanyieke could not imagine living a life without such an elegant beauty by his side. He had the money. He immediately approached her, not for friendship, but for outright marriage. He was so serious as to demand the marriage list from the family immediately.

Leesi actually loved Dumtanee but at the same time did not see any reason to hate the obviously-serious Kimanyieke. Despite love, she knew that she was a woman and women are like flowers. Besides, living with Kimanyieke would improve her life a lot since he was not a pauper. Women love gifts. The quality of gifts given to her by Kimanyieke by far out-valued those given by Dumtanee.

Leesi would have still loved to hold on to Dumtanee but for the much advice and persuasion from her family. She had no other choice but to marry the more promising Kimanyieke.

In order not to offend Dumtanee greatly, Kimanyieke offered to pay him a three-quarter bag of manila. When Dumtanee observed that Leesi was already yielding to the more promising Kimanyieke, he accepted the money offered, though grudgingly.

Kimanyieke thought that as Dumtanee accepted the money offered and conceded defeat, that all was over. Little did he know that malice, hatred and the likes were simmering and seething in his soul, waiting for a day to ‘explode.’ He still hoped to take back his heartthrob, Leesi and punish Kimanyieke for ‘disgracing’ him.

When the incident happened, observing that most of the carted elements were wooden figures and that it would be logical to indict the woodcarver, he vented his seething hatred. That was what happened”.

At this point the Paramount Ruler saw how rash and unwise their decision was. They regretted so much and wished the hand of the clock could be rewound. The level of anger they had towards Dumtanee was now so high. 

“I shall crush Dumtanee with my bare hands,” thundered His Highness, Chief Kobaatogo Lekova Ndorbu, the Paramount Ruler.

“There will be no need for that, Your Majesty.  In fact, you cannot even stay for ten seconds where the putrid Dumtanee lies as we speak,” retorted the sorcerer. “His body is so full of all kinds of diseases, sores and poxes – wounds that no one can decipher how they came and no known drug can cure not even by one percent.”

He took his staff, pointed at the wall near the chiefs and invoked.

“Dumtanee, the blacksmith from Kpaabee, I summon you now. Appear!”

He was immediately shown on the wall near the chiefs. This bizarre and weird sight momentarily jerked them, cuddling up against the sorcerer. He grinned.

Dumtanee appeared, his stomach extremely swollen, resembling a huge pregnant woman, carrying to term, sextuplets, each up to at least 3kg. He was completely leprous with all forms and sizes of boil, poxes, rashes etc while body fluids drained endlessly from every part of his body.

“So, what should we do now?” inquired the chiefs.

“Go home. Do not bury him within the community. He will die within one hour. Send him to Bara Gbotaa. Then, re-constitute the Kpaabee Deity Shrine. You will need to appease both the spirits of the innocent Kimanyieke and the Kpaabee Deity. 

I offer myself in both the reconstitution and the appeasements. Please, tell the Kpaabee Deity Chief Priest to come and see me immediately. Let us plan on how to procure the materials and go about the whole process. What befell him can befall any chief priest, including me.  

They all left and did exactly as the sorcerer, who himself was the chief priest of the Kporo Kinah Deity, had instructed.

_________________________________________________________

 “Hmmm!”, interjected Chief Aleelo. “When something out of the ordinary happens, the head of even the wisest man is confused”.

“Indeed something out of the ordinary has happened,” corroborated Chief Akpe. “A real riddle! But riddles are decipherable no matter how secretive they appear to be. That is why they are called riddles. If on the other hand, they are not decipherable at all, then they cannot be called riddles at all, for riddles are decipherable.

Conversely, every proverb has a meaning and an application. If a proverb spoken does not have a meaning and an application, then it cannot be called a proverb for all proverbs have a meaning and an application.

Hot soups are licked with much care without rushing; otherwise, it will not only burn the tongue but also the whole mouth. There is a hot soup before us, Your Highness. Let us lick it carefully and gently too, else, it will not only burn our tongue but even the whole mouth too.

I am not comfortable with the fact that Ndaki could watch Tomka, just a person, kill a man – I mean, slaughter his own fellow man without offering a word in reply, only to start shouting when the deed that he was witnessing had been completed.  

His Highness, chiefs and Kpaabee people, my mind tells me that all is not well and that we should apply caution and eschew haste in this matter if not we should not be surprised if the mistake of the past is re-enacted.” 

Chief Zorasi, the community prime minister rose and addressed the gathering.

“His Highness, chiefs and people of Kpaabee, no matter how strong malaria is, there is always a potent medicine to effect its cure. We have heard the evidence of the accuser and the defense of the accused. We are at present, not fully sure of who is lying and who is speaking the truth as to the death of Mbomkoo, leaving his bare, headless body here.”

He removed the wrapper used to cover the headless body, exposing it, making many, especially women, children and some lily-livered men, scamper away fearfully. He covered it back and continued.

“I suggest that we invite Ndobadee, the chief priest, and gather like this tomorrow to conclude this matter.” He sat down.

The Paramount Ruler consulted with the chiefs and they all agreed to Chief Zorasi’s proposal. He addressed the gathering. 

“We will all come here like this tomorrow morning by 7am and conclude this matter as we send for the Chief Priest immediately. You may all go in peace to your various houses.

The crowd dispersed and Chief Tomka was led again into the community cell, fully secured by a section of the community vigilante.

                                                      

CHAPTER   ELEVEN

That night was also another agonizing one. The same black bird kept hovering over the community, crying so loudly, making every sane human concerned.

At 7:30am, the following day, the village square was also filled, even more than the previous day. At exactly 7:39am, the Paramount Ruler had arrived and by 7:43am, the chief priest was called in. His attire, awe and loud voice as he approached the square, made people give way; some, thoroughly afraid.

He looked straight into Tomka’s eyes for some seconds, changed and looked into Ndaki’s, pinned his priestly staff into the ground violently three times and laughed sarcastically. He then turned and faced the Paramount Ruler, looked at him, nodding and shaking his body as if possessed by Zor Kpaabee – the community deity.

That was the norm even when he was in his shrine. When the Kpaabee Deity had possessed him, the people would know. He would shake so violently. Then as minutes passed, the shaking would reduce. By then, the people believed that the deity that had possessed him was now taking its proper place in him for the business he was sought for. Then after about five minutes, he would not shake again. By this time, the people believed that the Kpaabee Deity had taken its proper place such that the person they were seeing was no longer the Ndobadee they knew but the Kpaabee Deity himself.

At such point, everybody would behave himself or herself very well for they feared the wild-fire-like deity. However, they knew that it was not used to punishing people unjustly neither was it used to acting rashly - only people who had skeletons in their cupboards needed being afraid.  

So when he shook like that, the people all believed that the Kpaabee Deity was very much around. 

He left the Paramount Ruler and moved round the village square, singing and making incantations. He looked up into the sky for some seconds and sat down uneasily at the centre. 

He brought out a goatskin, native fowl, pasaa luuli (scent leaf), two bowls, muu pa nyorma (water for the ancestors), a piece of red cloth, vulture’s claws, a string of cowries, native chalk, eagle’s feather, ram’s horn, a spade, a kitchen knife and an old raffia broom used by an old woman, who had stopped menstruating and had not had any sexual relations for about forty years.

He dug a hole with the spade, tied the “danger” around his head and used the chalk to draw some spiritual signs on the ground. He pinned the eagle’s feather in his hair and then violently cut the throat of the fowl with his teeth. This made the nearby onlookers shift backwards for fear of his awe. He drained the blood into a bowl and poured the muu pa nyorma into the other. Then he arranged the ram’s horn, cowries and vulture’s claw to take a certain spiritual pattern unintelligible to the generality of the Kpaabee people.

He then used the knife to cut off the fowl’s head – signifying how Mbomkoo’s head was cut. He then placed the head at the left side of the dug hole while the headless body at the right side – signifying that Mbomkoo’s head and his body are apart. 

He then brought out his staff, poured the fowl’s blood on it and pinned it into the dug hole. He then placed the broom across the hole and spread the goatskin just behind it. Then, he sat on it and made incantations into the hole.

He took the pasaa luuli and chewed it hastily and spat it out into the air. Then, he looked at Ndaki, who shivered visibly. He turned and looked at Tomka, who was conspicuously indifferent. Then, he ordered.

“Ndaki! Tomka! Come forward”. 

Both did, Tomka, though still very apathetic.

“Your job is very simple. Just take this broom and hold it in your right hand until I tell you to keep it down. That is all.”

Both did. Tomka wanted not to but later changed his mind, thinking that people would think that he was trying to cover his guilt.

The chief priest put his right ear into the hole with his both eyes closed and started interjecting.

“Ehen!... Eeheen!... Eeeheeen!... I see!... Yes!... Yyeess!... Yyyeeeessss! Then, he laughed unusually for about one minute and stopped abruptly and addressed the enthusiastic crowd.

“Chief Monsigiaa, chiefs and people of Kpaabee, the secrets to be revealed are too heavy for the mouth that will speak them. I wish they were not true.”

“The Mouth of the Gods, just tell us what you see and you have done your part,” prodded the Paramount Ruler.

He waited for some seconds and then put his ears again into the hole for about one minute, got up hastily from his sitting position and paced round, then looked intently at the Paramount Ruler and uttered:

“His Highness, I repeat, the words to say are greater than the tongue to say it. I wish another were to say it.”

The Paramount Ruler was nonplussed.

“Please, Mouth of the Gods, we are blind men with big eyes and deaf men with large ears. Help us, please. Do not be silent for that is to make matters worse, we beseech you,” pleaded Chief Zorasi, the Prime Minister.

Tee Ndobadee, the chief priest, shook his head and suddenly declared:   

Zor Kpaabee reveals that Tomka is the killer of Mbomkoo, for ritual purposes”.

The crowd was astir.

“Order! Order! Order!” entreated Chief Zorasi, the prime minister. There was now a measure of silence.

“As we speak,” continued the chief priest, “his clothes are hidden at a corner at Tomka’s backyard. Meanwhile, his head is buried before his shrine at his main farmland at the Kpo Dubarade farmland zone. This is the second person he has killed.”

The crowd was astir again at this revelation.

It was not all that too easy to keep them under control now. Different people – boys, girls, ladies, gentlemen, the old and the young all had one thing or the other to say, talking variously.

“All these people that call themselves ‘born-again Christians,’ during the day, they behave as angels but at night, they are grade-one vampires – bloody bloodsuckers! Full-grown leeches! Real Draculas!” lamented Aagbara Loo-mma, the youth leader. “Tufia!” He spat towards Tomka’s direction, signifying utter contempt. “Nobody will deceive me again in the name of Christianity. I have seen enough.”

“O God, please, help to still keep my head on my neck and my neck on my body. As it stands now, God of Heaven, I am afraid that very soon, I may not have my head again on my neck neither my neck on my body,” pleaded Ndaagoni Ndigbara, solemnly.  

“Order! Order! Order!, cried the Prime Minister again. It all fell on deaf ears.

“When you see them on the road,” observed Kpege-ol Nkunuke, the village gbara teera masquerade masked man, “you call them ‘sir’, ‘pastor’, ‘elder’, ‘deacon’, ‘bishop’, ‘very reverend’, ‘most reverend’, ‘right reverend’, ‘centre reverend’, ‘left reverend’ as if they were on a football pitch -  lions in sheep’s clothing! Who would have ever believed that Chief Tomka, a chief of Kpaabee community, an elder of a respected denomination and  a teacher to whom we all gave our children to, to show them the way, could kill Mbomkoo, a well-behaved, placid and a harmless mad man? Tomka, your own will finish today.” 

“God punish you, Chief Tomka. Why did I even add ‘chief’ to your name? May the thunder of God from the third heaven scatter your brain, Tomka, for taking away Mbomkoo from me,” lamented Ndaagoni Kpakol – a fish seller. She was known to give him food almost every day.

“Who will eat my food again?” She cried. “Who will be to me again as another Mbomkoo? Who will I give his portion of food to – the dogs? God forbid that I give Mbomkoo’s food to the dogs. 

Tomka, why did you do this to me?” she sobbed rhetorically. “If only I had known that this is what would befall him, I would have taken him to live with me. Tomka you are so callous! God punish you a hundred times and over for killing Mbomkoo,” she cried so bitterly.

People were attracted to that scene. Of a truth, many other women cried with her, for she spoke the truth. They all wished another person had died and not Mbomkoo. Those who did not actually cry, shed tears and used their wrappers, handkerchiefs or any other available materials to clean the tears. 

The scene was as if a very important person in the community died untimely by cruel means. The atmosphere was extremely mournful. Evidently, Chiefs Nvingah and Vigaage did not envisage that it would be like that. In fact, that was one of the reasons why they chose Mbomkoo.

“Order! Order! Order!, cried the Prime Minister again. It all fell on deaf ears again.

The people actually loved Mbomkoo. Though he was mad, he was not a lunatic. He never committed the kind of atrocities other mad men of Kpaabee committed. For instance, some other mad men were so violent, raped women, vandalized crops, took articles for sale forcefully from the sellers and when pursued, would look for any weapon around especially machete, iron, knife, plank etc to injure the pursuers.

One lunatic named N-Paul almost killed a secondary school student that way. On that fateful day, he had gone to the market as usual to look for his daily bread. He saw a table on which bread was displayed for sale of which the owner just went to urinate. He quickly grabbed the biggest loaf and ran madly into the nearby street.

 The marketers raised alarm and many people ran after him to retrieve the bread. This coincided with the returning of the owner. She took a smaller loaf to give to him as an exchange but he refused. One of the boys skillfully hit his hand and the bread fell. He took it and was going to give to the owner.

None of them had the faintest idea that N-Paul had spotted machetes displayed for sale. They thought that as they had retrieved the bread from him that all was over. He ran madly, grabbed one of the machetes and cut at the upper back of the boy that hit his hand, making the bread to fall. The force made the machete cut deep, cutting some veins, arteries, some ribs and the right scapula. The boy fell forward and within few seconds, he was in the pool of his own blood.

He was immediately given first aid treatment and rushed to the General Hospital, Bori. By the grace of God, he was able to regain consciousness. If not the timely intervention and first aid treatment, he would have died from the machete cut from N-Paul. 

As the ones who really rave mad – I mean, the lunatics, pose a threat to the Kpaabee people and indeed the neighbouring communities, they, themselves, have their lives in serious danger. Apart from that, they are hated by the generality of the people, first, for their uncomplimentary life styles and secondly, for their more unkempt nature.

The lunatics appear as if the devil that made them mad never gives them lucidity of up to a second (if at all the devil is to blame for all the lunatic cases – for one of them called Wee Wee, a young man now of about forty six, became mad after inhaling non-stop, under bet, five rolls of cannabis indica, grounded with dried alligator pepper, ginger, pimento and chili and then ‘washed it down’ with four bottles of Seaman’s Aromatic Schnapps, all within five minutes). 

These ones eat from the community refuse dump site very close to Bara Gbotaa. Mbomkoo never ate from the refuse dump site. He begged using every skill conceivable to him. Sometimes, he sang; at other times, he prayed and blessed the prospective givers. At some other times still, he would dance and entertain and at other times, he would simply sit on the ground near the seller with the article that he desired and looked steadily into his or her eyes with the most pity-inspiring face.

Naturally, the seller would understand that Mbomkoo needed the item he was selling, perhaps cooked rice, beans, yam or bread, akara (bean balls), puff puff etc and would give him a little quantity. He would normally thank the giver and seek God’s blessing on him or her.

If he was satisfied with the food given, he would look for one of the unoccupied stalls and sleep and at the end of the day, retire to his hut at the Bara Nkobaa woods which was at the boundary between Atuuma and Kpaabee. If on the other hand he was not yet satisfied, he would do the same to the next seller with the item needed again.

One good thing with him was that he never demanded for excess and he ate little quantity of food. He was easily satisfied unlike Wee Wee who could singlehandedly finish the biggest known loaf of bread within few minutes. People wondered where he put the food he ate considering the fact that he had a small stomach and body size.

Mbomkoo never moved about naked unlike Free Will. Even when his clothes tore, he would tie the torn portion if he had exhausted his bank of clothes given to him by sympathizers. If he had not, he would abandon the badly-torn ones and take from the bank.

Free Will appeared as if his own madness was sanctioned by the devil. Lucidity tended to be torn from his own dictionary. He moved about stark naked with a manhood measuring about nine inches long, fully erect almost every minute of the day. In fact, even sane men feared the size of his manhood. Women screamed when they saw him in the woods or farmland.

“Vii … Vii! E Kpaabee Oo o! Free Will e! Free Will e!” They would shout until either he would just run away for fear or the men would come around as the security against their unfounded fear. The ones that would not shout would simply hide in the bush until he would pass; then they would continue their journey.

The lunatics live risky lives. Only few of them are still alive in Kpaabee up till now.

One named Barigodum but funnily called Sugar Baby upon being mad, lost her life in a ghastly motor accident. What happened?

Opposite Kpaabee is a community called Kpooro. The community market is situated along the tarred road which also acts as the boundary between the two communities. The traffic is always busy with vehicles plying Gokana and Port Harcourt – the Rivers State capital.

One day, Sugar Baby, as usual, visited the market for her daily bread. She, like other lunatics, was always in the habit of taking articles for sale without begging the owners. As she approached, people became very conscious of their wares.

The lunatics targeted mostly bread, followed by dried fish and other fried foods. The bread sellers knew this. Sugar Baby had just passed a woman selling dried fishes – mackerel, catfish, sardines and tuna. Oh, the aroma emanating from the newly-smoked, oily fishes were extremely inviting! 

The woman thought that as she made some steps from her table, now in front of the bread seller’s table that her own fishes were  safe. After all, they desired bread mostly. But just like the flash of lightning and with a speed resembling that of light – 299,792,458 metres per second, she swished backwards and grabbed the biggest mackerel and catfish and ran madly onto the road, determining to cross from Kpooro, as usual, to her community – Kpaabee, where she would be safer.

Unknown to her, a vehicle that had loaded passengers from Mogho Junction en route Port Harcourt and was bent on reaching in time, was approaching speedily. The road was clear and the driver was not expecting such unusual crossing of the road - actually, no one would.

The driver thought momentarily that the madwoman, being so much in a haste to cross the road, would just cross over to the other side, that is, to his own right, which is Kpaabee, so he swerved to his left, that is, towards Kpooros’ market. Sugar Baby, observing the closeness of the on-coming bus, decided to return back to the market side, thinking momentarily that it would be better to be beaten and remain alive than to force her way to the other, safer side and risk being crushed by the approaching vehicle.

The driver, observing her momentary change of mind, at the eleventh hour, decided applying the brake. Too late – the left tyre ran over her head, emptying her brain onto the road and flattening the skull like glass pane. Her body wriggled while her limbs vibrated and jerked – the spasm of a dying woman. Then, she died.

                                                 

                                                 

                                                CHAPTER  TWELVE

Mbomkoo was not like that. Even when he was alone in the farmlands, he never took any farm produce except when he was very hungry and the farm owners were not around. Even when hungry, he took just the little that would quench the hunger at that time.   

If he saw somebody in the farm, he would plead in Gokana:

“Soo soo a, takoi tam lo a. Door paa nem ma. Bari e taane ni dee ba a. Soo soo a.” – “Please, I am hungry Oo. Give me garden egg. God will bless you. Please Oo.”

The way he would plead would sometimes make him look lucid. Of course, some times, he could be described as being lucid. Even when he was in the market place, he kept calm. He only motioned with his hands, begging. He spoke very little. When he was finally given the object he sought, he would plainly say, “Oo zaa ke. Bari a kpe ne ni.” – “Thank you. May God reward you.” The market woman that gave him the item and even others would reply, “amen!” raising up their palms to heaven.

Some market women had observed that they sold more on the days that they gave alms to him than the days they did not. So, many usually set aside his gift. They knew that he would come around. Immediately he would come, they would run to him with different gift items of food – cooked rice, beans, yam, akara, moi moi, bread, meat pie, egg roll etc. He would respond, “Oo zaake. Bari a taane ni dee ba.” – “Thank you. May God bless you.” The women would echo in response, “aaaa----meeeeeennn!” 

They were of the belief that the louder the ‘amen’ responded, the greater the blessing received from the gifts given to him. Of a truth, few women gave him gifts not because they actually loved him but because they desired the blessings that they received from giving to him. However, so many gave to him due to his character – gentle, non-aggressive, non-destructive, docile, polite with innate sense of self control. He was not a nuisance like some other mad men. 

Many of the women would raise their hands up in the air while responding to the ‘amen’. Other women would use their hands to press their bosom – an exercise signifying whole-hearted acceptance of the prayer and the utmost desire that it be effective.

Some other women still would kneel down as he made the short prayer, wishing God’s blessings. They were of the belief that that would facilitate God’s answering of his prayers.

Even on farm days, they would reserve gifts for him. When they closed for the day, they would take it along, visit his hut and give it to him.

In that way, he never lacked and according to the women, they were very happy they did.

Mbomkoo was loved and cared for despite his insanity. The people never watched him move about in torn clothes. They made sure that his bank of clothes never ran dry and when the clothes were too dirty, some women took it upon themselves to wash them. He, himself, tried to wear the clothes unlike some others – the worst being Free Will. He never wore clothes, not even pant.

Some boys took it upon themselves to cut his hair low whenever it became too bushy or tangle. Besides, despite his insanity his bodily features reveal his innate handsomeness.

The boys also made sure that his hut was not leaking and that the sides too, were protected to prevent cold that could give him pneumonia. They also constructed a makeshift bed made with raffia branches with a mattress made of dried but fluffy grass and straw for him. The raffia bed was, of a truth, good enough, at least, for a mad man.

They had tried in the past to make him leave the woods to no avail. There were empty rooms in his own father’s house but he preferred the woods. Well, that was one indication of his lunacy. No sane human would leave empty rooms in his own father’s well-built house to be inhabited by rats and other rodents to dwell in the woods, worse still, in a hut, exposed to every harsh weather condition. 

His death pained so many people. It looked to some especially those who normally gave him gifts as if the object from which their blessings flowed had gone. How they wished some other mad men or even the useless Mbarida, the village drunk had died instead. Some wished that either Bullet or Zone 1, the notorious robbers was the one that was killed and not Mbomkoo. So his death pained so many and they could not help venting their utmost displeasure.      

 In order to secure some level of order, the Paramount Ruler demanded that the Dom Kere – “town crier”, bring the “Kere Bon” – “the Giant Community Wooden Gong” and beat.

In Kpaabee community and indeed among the Gokana people, the “Kere Bon” is respected. When the “Dom Kere” hits it, everybody pays attention. In fact, little noise-making children could be spanked by their parents after they had been warned and they still continued their unrepentant noise making habit.

Because of the importance the Gokana people give to the “Kere Bon”, it is hit only when important messages are to be passed to the people. The “Dom Kere” hits the “Kere Bon” with strength and no matter how noisy a place was, some level of quietness must ensue.

“Who, then, can be trusted again in our community”, lamented one Nloole, emotionally.

“Order! Order! Order!, we plead, Kpaabee people”, pleaded Chief Zorasi again passionately.

There was now a measure of silence again.

“Let’s go to the real business”, said the chief priest. “First, let’s go and bring out his clothes from Tomka’s backyard and then we go to kpo Dubarade to unearth his head and finally, destroy Tomka’s shrine – the secret of his sudden wealth.”

They all left, the chief priest leading, followed by the Paramount Ruler and the chiefs. When they reached the compound, the chief priest looked steadily into the sky and then, like someone who is spirit-remoted, went straight to the very hidden corner at the backyard and bought out a bag containing partly-blood-soaked clothes, which the villagers generally recognized to be Mbomkoo’s. There was an upsurge of commotion.

People talked variously. This was the third revelation now from the chief priest. The first was that Tomka was the person who killed Mbomkoo. The second was that he had killed somebody in the past though not caught. Thirdly, were the clothes which they knew to be Mbomkoo’s. No one had such clothes. They identified him with the clothes.

“What wrong did Mbomkoo do to Tomka?” cried Barida Ndege, rhetorically. “If he destroyed his crops, which we know he was not used to, he should have told us. Look here.” He picked up the clothes -  “Mbomkoo’s clothes, completely blood-soaked - almost fresh blood; innocent blood. Tomka you are so crude, barbaric and Oooo-oh – so cruel! You are devil-incarnate; no, Satan himself. May thunder scatter your head even in the grave you shall go soon.”

Tomka was listening to all this in silence. He did not utter a word in reply again to any of the accusations leveled against him after he had made his defense. He knew that he was perfectly targeted at and that the architect of the conspiracy did a thorough work. What would he say again that he had not said? He grinned and bore it.

At least the people of Kpaabee should have known that I am incapable of committing such crime, he thought. 

He seemed to have left his ordeal in the hands of God after his defense. The people thought that he kept silent but he was deeply and agonizingly praying to God.

“God, you are the person that delivered Daniel from the lion’s den. Please, deliver me for your name’s sake, that this people may know that I serve a living God. I feel death. O Lord, deliver me from its fangs and pangs. Within these days, I see death gnawing at my soul. Give me life for I am still very young – only forty two. I shall not die, O Lord, but live to declare your testimonies. Send your angels to fight for me, O Lord, for I put my trust in you. Remember Psalm 91 – 

                   ‘He that dwells in the secret place of the Most High,

                    Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty;

                    I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress,

                    My God in him I will trust;

                    Surely, he shall deliver me from the snare of the fowler

                    And from the noisome pestilence;

                    He shall cover me with his feathers

                    And under his wings I shall trust;

                    His truth shall be my shield and buckler…’ ”

    

“O Lord, the Bible says in Psalm 125 : 1 – 

                    ‘They that put their trust in the Lord, 

                     Shall be like Mount Zion,

                     Which cannot be removed,

                     But abides forever.’”

“I trust in you, O Lord. Let me be like Mount Zion. Let not my enemies – those who seek my death and downfall, triumph over me. O Lord, do not forget Acts 2 : 21 – 

                     ‘And it shall come to pass, that whosoever 

                     Calls on the name of the Lord, shall be saved’. 

 

Save me O Lord, for I call on you. I have no one else but you. You delivered Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.

 Consider the way I served you, O Lord and deliver me. I have tried my best to serve you the way that you want me to, as recorded in the Holy Bible. Do not make my enemies make the last laugh. Destroy their effort and thwart all their machinations that they may know that I serve the living God. Deliver me, O Lord I pray, in Jesus’ name, amen”.

 Ndobadee, the Chief Priest, was momentarily cast in the mould of an army commander. They saw him as the representative of the gods in their midst. When he spoke, they took it that the Kpaabee Deity had spoken. Such was the way Kpaabee rated him – a person half human, half spirit.

He, himself, knew that the people rated him highly as the chief priest of the Kpaabee Deity, which they believed, was responsible for their existence. Despite the fact that the new religion had started making waves in the community like any other community in Gokana, many of its adherents still had great awe and respect for the Kpaabee Deity. Some really dread the deity.

He had tried in the past to maintain justice and fairness despite the glaring fact that he was not well remunerated as other chief priests were. Despite the poverty that pervaded him, he had tried his best to maintain a façade of contentment. He always allowed justice to take its course. For that reason, the Kpaabee Deity was respected by even other communities.

This made people from far and near bring their cases for settlement and all went home in good spirit, even the ones that lost, for they knew they merited losing. Many cases, especially the ones bordering on land, which formed the bulk of the cases settled there, were amicably settled and peace reigned. It was not in his manner to truncate justice.

All this tended to end with the case of Tomka, regarding the murder accusation of Mbomkoo, which he was handling. He had seriously compromised. The “humiliation” which Chiefs Nvingah and Vigaage gave him, made him have a rethink.     

Wait a minute. Did they really ‘humiliate’ him? No. They only expressed the obvious – what they had been hiding and also dodging but which came out when it did, though in a manner that humiliation was insinuated and inferred.  

Of a truth, Ndobadee was poverty personified. Even that day when the two chiefs visited him, they had skipped breakfast that they may eat the available food in the afternoon and apparently planning to skip dinner.

He had already used part of the money given to him. Life was good. Stock fish, dried catfish, malt drinks, beer, exotic wine, Brandy, Champagne, etc, which were luxuries before, were nothing to him now. Apart from that, he had just bought four bundles of zinc roofing sheets with which to change the leaking ones. He had also given the sum of N20,000 to Nledee, the village carpenter, to produce better upholstery chairs for him.

He steeled himself to effect Tomka’s death.  Though Tomka had not committed any crime, he (Tee Ndobadee) had ‘eaten’ the money given to him by the two chiefs. Apart from that, Tomka was greedy. How could only him and his little family, swallow a whooping Ten Million Naira just within two years? He did not even recognize the fact that Kpaabee had a chief priest –  the Mouth of the Gods.

The two reasons were only to make him not to be too guilty conscious when Tomka would be finally killed. No wonder an Ogoni proverb goes: “To kill a dog, one must first give it a bad name”.

If this is what I have to do to get my own share of wealth, let me do it. After all, everybody will die some day, anyhow, including me, Ndobadee, he thought, steeling himself. 

 “Let us now go to the farmland,” he commanded.

As they reached the farmland, he looked straight into the sky as he did earlier, making incantations. Then, he suddenly ran to a hidden corner of the vast farmland and pointed out the shrine. 

There was commotion upon sighting the small shrine.

“Give me that spade,” he commanded. 

He was given the spade. He looked up again, making incantations, then stopped suddenly. He moved three steps forward, dug a place and brought out a human head.

There was an uncontrollable uproar. At this point, angry youths almost tore Tomka apart there and then, despising the custom of specifically burying murderers alive at Bara Gbotaa – the place earmarked for such from time immemorial, if not the extra-loud yelling from the Paramount Ruler.

“Take him to Bara Gbotaa”, he cried. “From today, I trust no one except myself.” Despite all the explanation and denial that Tomka made, no one listened to him. A six-foot-deep pit was dug and at the command of the Paramount Ruler, he was pushed inside after being tied hand and leg.

                                          

                                    CHAPTER  THIRTEEN

While in the pit, Tomka did something that surprised most people. He did not even utter a word. He only looked at all of them and smiled broadly. Then he looked downwards never to look at any of them again. They had expected him to cry, wail, plead, lament, give parting words to his family, try though in vain, to jump out of the pit and the likes. He looked very calm like one not perturbed a bit by the brief period of agonizing death that he would soon face when he would be covered by the piled earth surrounding the pit just above him. His mien and composure at the moment threw many into confusion.

“Are you sure we are not making mistake somewhere, Your Highness?” reasoned Chief Aleelo. “My mind is telling me so strongly that we are making mistake.”

“Which mistake are you talking about, Chief Aleelo?” Madam Cash, the women leader queried. “Let no one pervert justice here Oooo,” she warned.

“Is it because he is a chief? If he were me, an ordinary tailor, they would have chewed me raw just as men do apples,” observed Monday, the village tailor, popularly called ‘American Tailor.’

“You surprise me, Chief Aleelo. If not for one thing, I would have said that you are privy to a piece of information which we all aren’t,” observed Chief Kiebel.

“What are you insinuating, Chief Kiebel”, demanded Chief Akpe. “I am the oldest among you all and I know fully what rash decision cost Kpaabee about sixty years ago during the reign of His Highness, Chief Kobaatogo Lekova Ndorbu – the father and predecessor of the present paramount ruler here, because, by the grace of God, I was a member of the Council of Chiefs then – the only one still surviving as you can see.

Delay, sometimes, is not denial of justice. You must understand that there is a big difference between judgment and justice. We can easily give judgment, but certainly, not justice.

Tomka is already in the pit. Evidently, he will be sand-covered any moment from now and his life will end. Some will cry and some, too, will celebrate, especially those who wanted him dead if there are any,” he concluded.

“Why all this feet-dragging?” asked the Women Leader. “Listen, let me tell all of you. If this murderer is not made to dance the music, I shall mobilize all the women and we shall all cease to perform our wifely roles and if any person dares stop us, we shall all match to the Kpaabee Deity Shrine, naked ourselves  and lay a curse on the men of Kpaabee. Let no one dare me, for I mean exactly what I just said,” she concluded. 

“And what would you do if you finally discover that we had made a mistake somewhere regarding this same matter which you want us to conclude so fast?” queried Chief Nzoova.

“What kind of stupid question is that, Chief Nzoova?” retorted Chief Nvingah angrily. “Were you asleep all this while? Are you insinuating that the Kpaabee Deity is now so fallible or drunk? Maybe, he now sleeps and dwells inside Teete’s palm wine calabash or at best, he has turned to be Ntete Ngbogim, the ‘pastor’ of Saint Bottle. If we now doubt the Kpaabee Deity, let all of us march down to his shrine and burn it down right now and await the consequences. Birds of a feather…”

“flock together,” corroborated Aagbara Loo-mma, the Youth Leader. “And let me add that the youths of this community will be so hostile to everybody if this Son of the Devil (pointing at Tomka in the pit) is not dead today. The youths will really turn this community upside down. Read my lips.”

There was uproar and commotion which now developed every passing minute. No one could dare throw a shovel of sand onto Tomka in the pit when the real Commander-in-Chief had not given the green light. In the interim, red lights were still coming from his direction despite the uproar. He apparently seemed to have developed cold feet, completely befuddled. A lot of thoughts went through him within few minutes. He was simply lost in ruminations.

Is this how the person I know as the number one man of integrity in Kpaabee will end his life? What if he, for one reason or the other, is not actually guilty? But the Kpaabee Deity said ‘he is guilty’ and the deity is not known to give wrong verdicts or, has the deity started doing so? If he has, why should he?

I do not normally dream. Almost eighty percent of what I dream comes true. If that is the case, are there some people seeking for Tomka’s death? Tomka, as far as we human beings can testify, does not look for people’s troubles. He is very upright. Why should he look for people’s trouble now that would warrant some people seeking for his death?    

I have heard what happened during my father’s reign – how Kimanyieke was falsely accused by Dumtanee and what happened later. What if this is another case of false accusation? But the Kpaabee Deity confirmed that he is guilty or was it the verdict of the Chief Priest? If the last is the case, why should the Chief Priest give a wrong verdict? Did they bribe him? If so, who did? But the Chief Priest, to the best of my knowledge, does not take bribes. I have personally tested him in the past disguisedly, up to three times, using people from various communities to which I gave huge sums of money. He turned all the three down – an exercise in futility.

Apart from that, I have never heard of any complaint or even insinuation of bribery that had to do with the Chief Priest. All went perfectly – the mind of the Kpaabee Deity. Tomka’s case can’t be different or will it?

May be, Tomka has sinned against his god or has compromised his standard and his god decides…

His thought session was interrupted by the Prime Minister, Chief Zorasi, who apparently shook him to secure his attention. It was indeed an inexplicable situation. 

“His Highness, what must be done must be done. Remember, we are leading people. We must not be seen to keep sacred cows and slaughter scapegoats. Be brave and do the needful” the Prime Minister pleaded. 

He waited again another two minutes after Chief Zorasi had spoken to him; then, came the green light.

 “Cover him up,” he cried.

Kup!, the men dug; zai!, they poured. Kup!, the men dug; zai!, they poured ad nauseam. The men who were covering the ‘grave’ were momentarily taken aback. They could not come to terms with one almost at the point of death, yet is praying for God’s mercy on the people ensuring his death. Under normal circumstances, they would have preferred to halt or even quit the assignment. However, they did not, for the Paramount Ruler was right before them, overseeing the exercise. 

Secondly, that would make them appear as being lily-livered – in fact, women. They still wanted to be seen as men despite the fact that from what some of them could infer, the Tomka in the pit, which they knew so well, appeared to be innocent, despite the ‘supreme court’s’ verdict of guilt.

In Kpaabee community and indeed the Gokana-speaking people in general, men dread been seen as women. Men always try as much as possible to be seen as men – courageous and enduring pain, hunger, cold and other imperfections of nature. They are sturdy and do not cry even in the face of the death of the most loved one. They never laugh carelessly; just a little would suffice. Chuckling may usually just be enough.

They sleep late at night and wake up early before women and children, sometimes, as early as 4am. They rarely take their siesta. Taking siesta especially on farming days is looked at as a sign of laziness.  They speak in bass or at worst, baritone; never in treble, alto or tenor. Men with such voices are ridiculed and caricatured even by women and are never taken seriously.

When returning from the farm or fishing, Gokana men come behind their wives with their machetes in their right hand or sheathed and slung upon their shoulders. Even while coming behind, it is unmanly to look only in one direction. They look left and right and front and back. It is believed that the man is the security for the woman; even the women themselves know that. The women would carry every load from the man but certainly, not the machete - that is not load.

Though they do not use their machetes to cause mayhem, it is regarded as part of manhood when going to farm or fishing. A man who had reached a greater part of his journey to the farm could return home to collect his machete if he forgot carrying it – which is very rare. In fact, it is a thing of shame to tell another man and even women that you forgot your machete. That you do not have any work in the farm, woods or the fishing ports that would demand usage of machete is not a reason for not going along with it.

Gokana men are not expected to talk much. Much talk from a man makes others, including women, see him as not being man enough.

Men sit with their legs apart and never closed. Men sitting with closed legs are looked at as been women. On the other hand, all Gokana women are expected to sit with their legs closed. Failure to do that makes others, including the women themselves see such a person as being loose, ill-trained and rude.

The unwritten law extends to even when sitting or walking with a woman. The men sit or walk along on the right side of the woman, never on the left. If a woman walks along or sits at the right side of the man, others would be tempted to look at the man as being immature or simply a ‘baby man’. Some may be so aggrieved or concerned to the extent of telling the ‘offenders’ to change their sitting or walking positions as the case may be. Some, too, may be so aggrieved to the extent of correcting the offenders harshly and change their positions by themselves as if they committed a felony of the magnitude of treason, murder or even a first-rate arson.

Same rule goes for even when entering vehicle, canoe etc. The man sits close to the doors, never at the middle except the men, who came earlier, had safely taken those positions. Men do not sit between women; that would make them too, women. Women, themselves, know the rules. So when they see the men coming to board a vehicle with them, they naturally allow them to sit close to the doors while they sit at the middle, even if it entails the passengers all alighting and then re-arranging themselves. 

Talking about endurance, Kpaabee men exhibit it in its entirety. They never cry for pain, no matter how severe – that would make them mere boys. For instance, Kpaabee men exhibit one of the crudest methods of treating open wounds and take it to be a show of manhood. For instance, some boil hot palm oil and pour it into/ onto the wound. Some even pound alligator pepper and chili, mix it with the hot oil before applying on the wound. They believe that such hot treatment makes the wound heal faster.

Talking about courage, Kpaabee celebrates bravery though, certainly, not foolhardiness. Fear is looked at as the woman ‘thing’. For instance, their men never run away from wild animals – wolf, hyena, crocodile, jackal, leopard, fox etc. That would be tantamount to cowardice. They hunt them down even if they have to do that with only their machetes or even bare hands.

Kpaabee men rarely sit at home. They are always at work and when not at work, they are always with their peers chatting, reminiscing, planning the next day’s or season’s farming and fishing expedition, drinking either ‘kai-kai’ - the locally-brewed gin or toor mii – palm wine. Sitting most times in the house is looked mostly as belonging to the womenfolk and children.

Even when a loved one like wife, child or an only son dies, real Kpaabee and indeed Gokana men do not and are also not expected to cry. They all know that. In fact, shedding tears is not even approved. The ability of a man withholding his tears where women would shout, wail, lament, sob and dash themselves a hundred times to the ground, soak their clothes and wrappers with tears, mucus and dirt, is looked upon as a sign of his real maturity and manhood. Conversely, if a close family member, say husband dies, and the wife does not cry, it is quickly inferred that either she did not love the husband or might even be responsible for his death. Crying, whether genuine or not, is a first sign that the wife might be innocent and is actually going to miss her dead husband. Otherwise, she is looked at as being happy at the death of her husband. She is expected to cry and be consoled by the sympathizers and visitors.

Men don’t cry. Even when tears fill the eyes of a man, people around, including women, would tell him (if for instance, the man’s name is Koroole) – “please, Koroole, be a man”. “Koroole, know that you are a man Ooo!” 

Such was the situation with the men covering up Tomka. Changing their minds along the line would be tantamount to being women or even babies. To start with, for Kpaabee to give such a task to somebody, they recognize the fact that the person possesses manhood qualities.

Kup!, they dug. Zai! , they poured ad nauseam amidst mixed feelings. Tomka had managed to stand upright in the ‘grave’. He managed to lean himself against the wall as he could not stand well due to the hands and feet being tied.

The men filled the ‘grave’ up to the knee level. He was still looking downwards, apparently seen by many not to be perturbed. He uttered no word to the people. They filled up to the neck level. Tomka still, uttered no word in reply to the people. Many people had expected him to plead for mercy and then make fruitless effort to make a solemn promise never to indulge in such acts again, as they had observed in the past with Nkoroole and Naamanyie, who were both convicted of murder just like Tomka.

Nkoroole, had from the onset, denied the murder accusation but when he saw death approaching, being buried up to the chest level, he started apologizing and making confessions never to indulge in such acts again.

“Please, Your Highness, forgive me. I will never indulge in such act again. It was the devil that lured me,” he pleaded.

“I thought you denied the murder accusation against you. Why do you accept it now?” asked the Paramount Ruler.

“Please, forgive me”, he pleaded ad nauseam. The same was with Nnaamanyie.

                                              

                                       

                                             CHAPTER  FOURTEEN

The Kpaabee people do not take delight in burying people alive. It is an age-long tradition for the recompense for murder. Kpaabee values life and frowns extremely at any person who takes another’s life. No amount of pleading and shedding of tears will make the community change the penalty. So, when a citizen plans to take another person’s life, he or she should also plan how to accept the impending doom – being buried alive.

Everybody knows the rule, including children. Because of that, the issue of murder in Kpaabee is very rare. The few that did, saw the grave consequences of their actions, making others take caution. No wonder, one of their adages goes: “when the frog in the front falls into a pit, the others behind take caution.”

By the time they covered him up to the chin level, he started finding breathing very difficult. Then, something happened.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” shouted a stranger – an elderly man from Atuuma. Immediately there was attention given to him. He came closer to the pit, looked at Tomka for some minutes. People wondered who the stranger was and what made him so bold to interfere in the ‘business’ of Kpaabee.

“Man, may I see your face properly,” he prodded.

 Tomka looked up at him for half a minute, smiling, then looked down again.

“This is not the man that killed the popular Mbomkoo, the madman. Besides, the people that killed him were three – two did the actual murder while the third acted as their security,” he exposed.

“Who are you and how did you get to know the facts you tell us now?” interrogated the Paramount Ruler. 

“I am Nlekunuke Toba from Atuuma community. I am a palm wine tapper and a thatcher. These are the two jobs I do to fend for myself and my family.

A man from my community called Bari-alo Nlegiaa, whose bereaved father, Nlegiaa Togokpao, our community tinker, who will be buried next weekend, had placed an order for one hundred pieces of weaved thatch. I had supplied the first seventy sheets earlier. In order not to disappoint him, I stayed much longer, up to 7pm on that fateful day so that I could complete the remaining thirty pieces and hand them over to him the following day.

I had finished for the day and was just leaving when I heard the agonizing cry of a man, resembling a situation of extreme torture or uneasy murder. I followed the direction of the brief altercation in that twilight and observed that it emanated from Mbomkoo’s hut.   

His hut is not far from mine. I stealthily came so close so the people did not know that somebody was near and also eavesdropping. I observed perfectly that the people who actually killed him were two and not one. Apart from that, both men were more elderly than the face of the person I see in this pit. They appeared to be men of at least sixty and not this, who appears to be about forty or at most forty five.”

“So in essence, you are saying that you cannot identify the two men even if you see them?” queried the Prime Minister.

“No, I can’t identify them,” he responded.

There was mild uproar; people talked variously

“Since you said you cannot identify the two murderers even if you see them, how are you fully sure that this man in the pit was not one of them?” queried Chief Nvingah.

“Even though I can’t identify them, I know that this was not one of them and even if this were one of them, what about the other two?” he responded.

“Can you identify the third person if you see him?” asked HRH, Chief Monsigiaa.

He responded quite frankly.

“Yes, Your Majesty. He limps on the right leg and has a short stature. He looks like a man of about thirty or at most thirty five. He is a youth. I could observe these about him because I was much closer to him than to the other two elderly men who did the actual murder. Besides, there was moonlight.”

The clue was coming gradually. The Paramount Ruler exchanged glances with the Prime Minister and then with the other chiefs.

“Your Majesty, I suggest that you discharge this poor, old man. He does not seem to be of any use. There are upwards of thirty men that limp. Should we not execute a murderer confirmed guilty by the Kpaabee Deity on account of an old man who conspicuously lost his senses of reasoning and remembrance eons ago?” queried Chief Vigaage.

 The old man responded sharply:

 “My senses are all intact. In fact, it was this same man who alerted your community of the murder of the popular Mbomkoo. You should know his name”.

 The gathering was now a little astir again. The Paramount Ruler exchanged glances with his Prime Minister and other chiefs again. Then, Chief Zorasi, the Prime Minister spoke:

 “How did you know that it was this same man who alerted our community of the death of Mbomkoo and what did he alert as you heard?”

The old man from Atuuma responded:

“I know that he was the person because I stealthily followed him in the darkness to the nearby bank of Muu Nzorpiriko. Then he, upon reaching the bank, started shouting:

‘Kpaabee community, my eyes have seen my back today! Abomination! The worst has happened!’ That same person that alerted your community of the murder of Mbomkoo that night is the same person who was the third in the murder.”

 At this point, many people were now talking. The clue was out. Chiefs Nvingah and Vigaage were very nervous. They did not have the faintest knowledge that somebody was privy to the well-planned murder. What were they to do now? Soon Ndaki would be called out and he would point them out as the killers.

 Meanwhile, the Chief Priest, obviously seen to be guilty conscious, was just making unnecessary incantations unintelligible to the Kpaabee people. The Paramount Ruler looked at him critically and saw that, though he was trying hard to save his face, he was jittery – indication that all was not well.

The people already knew that the person the old man from Atuuma meant was Ndaki. However, to be very sure that the stranger knew exactly what he was saying, the Paramount Ruler asked further.

“If I make all the young men walk past you, can you identify the person you saw that night?”

“Yes, I can,” he responded. “But since they are so many, why not just interrogate the person that alerted the community that night.  He, too, was the person who was the third in the murder. However, if that is what you want, you can make them walk past me. I can identify him.”

The Paramount Ruler kick-started the identity parade. For more than thirty minutes, he could not see the person. Then Chief Vigaage spoke peremptorily:

“I told you, Your Majesty, that the old man is very tired and obviously confused. Discharge and discard him; let him go and take his rest. Almost all the young men of Kpaabee had walked past him like primary school children saluting their Local Government Chairman during Independence Day celebration while he sat down like a Pharaoh of Egypt but he was not able to identify the third person as he claimed he saw.”

“Chief Vigaage, hold your peace,” cried Chief Aleelo. “Almost all had walked past but few still remain. Let the few that remain walk past him and if he cannot still identify the person, then we can decide on the next line of action to take. After all, we all know the person that alerted the community that night or don’t we?”

The few people that remained walked past him and before Ndaki could even reach close enough, he shouted so loudly.

“People of Kpaabee, that is the young man that was the third in the murder. It was he who also alerted your community of the murder.”

There was general commotion. The people talked variously. Nobody had expected the sudden twist. Meanwhile, Tomka was still in the pit, still facing downwards and not uttering a word. 

The Chief Priest could not bear the shame. It was now very clear that all was not well with the “verdict of the Kpaabee Deity.” But he had to safe his face, so he uttered:

“Old Man, I listened patiently to all that you ‘vomited’. ‘When the parrot talks so much, you know too well that it has just finished eating pepper.’ Remember that the Kpaabee Deity, that has pronounced this man guilty, will not hesitate to strike you dead with thunder, lightning and brimstone if you further treat his verdict with disdain or profane him. Remember, ‘to be forewarned, is to be forearmed.’”

The old man responded swiftly.

“The Kpaabee Deity that I know does not strike people down for telling the truth. He is not also known for truncating justice or giving wrong verdicts. His Highness and chiefs of Kpaabee, I smell a rat here. Something is really wrong somewhere. All is not well. The man in that pit is not guilty. Please, bring him out before an innocent man dies in your hand.

The onus is on the Paramount Ruler and chiefs of Kpaabee to actually make this third person in the murder act “vomit out” the two other cohorts who actually did the murder.”

“Ndaki! Ndaki! Step forward,” ordered the Paramount Ruler.

“Ehenn! The old man remembered, grinning, nodding. “Ndaki is his name. I now remember. When the two men had finished the murder act, they whispered loudly, ‘Ndaki! Ndaki! You can now start the wailing.’

I could hear everything because I hid behind a thicket very close to him. So, I could see his form perfectly and also heard the loud whisper perfectly too.”

“Ndaki, who were the people that killed Mbomkoo?” prodded the Paramount Ruler.

“I do not know what the old man is saying. I was not at the scene of the crime as he is reporting. You heard the old man say that he is a palm wine tapper. May be he has drunk so much of his palm wine and he is now behind himself,” Ndaki retorted.

“But you were at the scene of the incident when Tomka killed Mbomkoo. Weren’t you?” asked Chief Kiebel.

“Ehmm!... ehmm!... N-n-no!… Yes!... But ehmm!” stammered Ndaki.

“Speak frankly, Ndaki,” roared Chief Aleelo. 

“Give me my sword,” thundered the Paramount Ruler. 

He was given his sword – an extremely long, two-edged type, fully sharpened. He unsheathed it exposing its extra-sharp blades, raised it up threateningly and then sheathed it. Then he threatened.

“Ndaki, you know that I must uncover the truth today. If you still value your life, tell me the truth and no harm will befall you. But no human being will save you from my hand when I finally discover that you were lying to Kpaabee. With this sword, I shall cut your throat as we do goats.

Don’t be afraid, nobody will harm you. I will personally protect you if you reveal the murderers now. But if after the count of five and you do not reveal them and I discover them myself, I shall cut your hands, legs, tongue, ears, pluck your eyes and finally cut your throat. I am giving you three minutes to think whether you want to reveal or not.”

The crowd was now talking within these three minutes of grace given. Some were cursing him; others were entreating him to mention the real killers while some others still, were advising him to say what he knew was the truth. Then, came the voice of the Paramount Ruler.

“Ndaki, I shall count up to five and if you do not mention the real killers, then I shall take it to be that you are the killer and with this sword, I shall slaughter you alive here so that it will, from henceforth, serve as a deterrent  to those who will think of murder and false murder accusation.

I start the count now: One! Two! Three! Four!

“It is okay, Your Majesty. The real killers are two of your chiefs,” Ndaki declared.

The crowd was astir again.

“Two of my own chiefs?” queried the Paramount Ruler with mouth agape.

“Yes, two of your chiefs,” he confirmed. “May thunder strike me down a hundred times if I lie this time,” he swore solemnly.

“So who are these two chiefs?” prodded the Paramount Ruler.

Ndaki, who was now very jittery and obviously terrified too, was silent for some seconds. That was the peak of the interrogation.

“Ndaki, please, speak to Kpaabee. Who were the two chiefs that killed Mbomkoo?” pleaded the Prime Minister.

The Paramount Ruler unsheathed his sword again, exposing its long, extra-sharp blades and brandished it threateningly, looming over Ndaki in the utmost facade of seriousness and extreme anger. Then he roared.

“If after the count of three and you do not mention the two chiefs, I shall cut off your head right now as you did to Mbomkoo. So who were the chiefs that killed Mbomkoo? – One! Two!

“It is okay, Your Highness. They are… they… they are… Chief… Chief… Chi… Chi… Chi… Chief Nvin… Nvin… Nvingah and… and… and Chief… Chief… Chi… Chief Vi… Vi… Vigaage.

     

                                       

                                      CHAPTER  FIFTEEN

The crowd was now so astir. Their reaction was so uncontrollable. None expected the twist. It was almost unbelievable. The Paramount Ruler was shocked. He and so many others were completely dumbfounded. Meanwhile Chiefs Nvingah and Vigaage were so jittery, obviously and extremely petrified. In the meantime, Ndaki had, due to fear, inadvertently urinated in his trousers.

“You mean Chief Nvingah and Chief Vigaage here are the people who killed Mbomkoo?” asked the Paramount Ruler to reassure himself that he was not day-dreaming or otherwise, but still sober.

“Yes, both killed Mbomkoo and not the Chief Tomka as I earlier reported,” he replied. “Have mercy upon me, Your Highness, chiefs and people of Kpaabee. I was greatly misled by the two chiefs. Please, I am on my knees.”

The Paramount Ruler was now very troubled. He almost buried alive an innocent man on account of false accusation. To completely reassure himself, he queried further.

“And what if I discover later again that you were lying against Chief Nvingah and Chief Vigaage as you did to Chief Tomka earlier, what should I do to you this time?” queried the Paramount Ruler, obviously to be really sure of the true facts of the case.

 Ndaki knelt down on one knee, touched the earth, protruded his tongue, touched it with his index finger and raised it up for heaven to witness – an exercise done customarily by the Gokana people when they intend speaking nothing but the truth. Then he uttered in oath.

“May the anger of the Kpaabee Deity as well as the entire pantheon of Ogoni, not just only Gokana, fall on me at the same time, a hundred times and over, if I lie. Added to this, Your Highness, cut my body into a thousand pieces if at the end you discover that I lie against the two chiefs.

In fact, they gave me the sum of N400,000. It was that money that I had been squandering in the beer parlours of Kpaabee these two days. Right here with me, is the remaining N330,000.”

He brought out the money in the denomination of N1,000 note, all totaling N330,000. 

“Everybody in Kpaabee knows that I am a jobless, trap-setting, draft player. It is only a miracle or magic that can make me hold upwards of N20,000 at a time, not to mention N400,000.”

He flung the money at Chief Nvingah, making the scene to be momentarily filled with several pieces of N1,000 notes.

“Chief Nvingah, please, take back your money. I am no longer interested in the business. Chief Tomka does not deserve to die. You, Chief Vigaage and I know that he is innocent,” he concluded.

As all this was going on, Tomka still looked downwards, apparently seen not to be a bit perturbed. He uttered no word of any kind. Meanwhile, Chief Nvingah and Chief Vigaage were raining abuses on Ndaki. The chief priest, unable to bear the situation any longer, spoke.

“Your Majesty, I cannot sit here and watch riff-raffs denigrate the dreaded Kpaabee Deity and his verdict.”

“No, Chief Priest,” retorted the Paramount Ruler. “Nobody moves an inch until all this is over. ‘When there is much smoke emanating from a hut, you know that the hut is about to catch fire.’ Stay where you are.”

He ordered the men that were covering up the ‘grave’.

“Dig Tomka out of the pit, now!”

They dug him out of the pit, cleaned him and made him sit down. He continued looking downwards, uttering no word to any person – a very unprecedented act.

“I never gave you any money and I did not kill Mbomkoo. May be, you did,” submitted Chief Nvingah.                    

 “What do you hope to achieve by lying against us,” demanded Chief Vigaage. “That is the same way you lied against Chief Tomka. May be, you killed Mbomkoo yourself and like a parrot that has eaten much pepper, you now accuse Kpaabee chiefs as if Kpaabee chiefs …”

“No! No! No!” interposed the old man from Atuuma. “Ndaki did not kill Mbomkoo. I was there myself and saw everything that transpired. Ndaki was the person that acted as the security while the other two men did the murder. Two other men elderly to Ndaki did.”

“And the two elderly men you saw in that twilight were Chief Nvingah and Chief Vigaage,” complemented Ndaki.

“May Kobaatogo destroy you before the break of…”

Chief Vigaage was interrupted by the Paramount Ruler.

“Shut up your mouth, Chief Vigaage. Kpaabee is not known for keeping sacred cows and slaughtering scapegoats. Both of you, Chief Vigaage and Chief Nvingah, step forward, now.”

They did.

“Chief Zorasi, come forward.” 

He did.

“Decap them,” the Paramount Ruler ordered.

He did.

At this point, the chief priest knew that no secret would be hidden again and that he would be engulfed by the impending ‘inferno’. He decided to run and leave the scene but decided doing so in the pretence of escaping the impending doom from the fierce Kpaabee Deity, for ‘neglecting his verdict.’ He ran, shouting as he ran.

“I must run and leave here now. The anger of Kpaabee Deity is coming. See it coming swiftly.”

He ran. People at first, gave way for him, thinking momentarily that since he was the chief priest, he actually saw something that they did not see. Apart from that, people naturally gave way due to his bizarre appearance – adornment, paraphernalia and regalia as a chief priest.

“Hold him; don’t allow him to escape,” shouted the Paramount Ruler.

He was held and brought to the scene by the youths. The Paramount Ruler ordered the Prime Minister to strip him of his office adornments, leaving only his ordinary clothes on. This was done.

“Tee Ndobadee,” cried the Paramount Ruler, “respect yourself. If you choose not to, I shall strip you and lay you bare, worse than a common criminal. Don’t dare me, for I mean every bit of what I just said.” 

So over to you now, Tee Ndobadee, our Chief Priest, why did you lie to Kpaabee,” demanded the Paramount Ruler.

“I did not lie,” retorted the chief priest. “I have given the verdict as submitted by Zor Kpaabee. It would only be an exercise in denigration going further on this issue.”

“Ehen! I see! Are you still maintaining that it was Tomka that killed Mbomkoo after the witnesses said the opposite – that he was killed by two men now discovered to be Nvingah and Vigaage?”

“Ehmm! Ehmm! No! ... but yes! … eh!” he stammered.

“Ndobadee, you are a man,” cried the Prime Minister. “One quality of a real man is the ability to speak the truth at all time not minding whose ox is gored.” 

Then the Paramount Ruler added immediately.

“We have already known the truth but my bewilderment is the reason behind you, Our Chief Priest, lying to Kpaabee on behalf of the Kpaabee Deity. 

You know that I must find out the truth in its entirety. If at all there is anything that to me is still not very clear, I shall send for the chief priest of Kporo Kinah Deity. As you know, he never lies, takes bribe or truncates justice. You were like that but I do not know what happened lately. Remember, no problem is insuperable.

If you speak the truth, maybe I shall lessen your punishment. But if you don’t and I discover it myself, I promise Kpaabee that I shall slaughter you right here and now as men do cows. Don’t dare me for I mean every bit of what I just said. After all, that is what was done to Mbomkoo.

“So, was it Tomka that actually killed Mbomkoo?” he asked.

The chief priest waited for more than two minutes without giving any response. He was deeply agitated, extremely rueful, lost in thought and grief.

I wish I had not listened to Chiefs Nvingah and Vigaage. Now my life is in a mess. Any moment from now, I must face the repercussion of my action. Every truth must be out whether I confess it or not. But my punishment might be a little lighter if I confess myself.

If I say ‘yes’, I implicate myself the more for the two witnesses said ‘no’ which is the truth that must be found out easily especially if a chief priest as prominent as that of the Kporo Kinah deity is consulted. On the other hand, if I say ‘no’, I still implicate myself because my bribery secret will be exposed. Oh! I have blotted my copybook and apparently there is almost no hope of remedying it.” He thought forth and back and sighed so loudly.

“We are all waiting to hear from you, Ndobadee,” the Paramount Ruler reminded him. “Make up your mind to say the truth. I give you more two minutes to do that.”

The chief priest observed the atmosphere correctly. He saw unalloyed determination clearly written on the face of the ruler.

Better to tell the truth and face a lesser shame and recover my lost trust and integrity than to tell lies again and face the greater shame and perpetual loss of trust and integrity, he thought.    

“Your extra two minutes have elapsed. Now, was it Tomka that killed Mbomkoo as you reported earlier?”

“No, he wasn’t,” he retorted.

The crowd was astir. The commotion resulting from the last statement was so much. In order to secure some level of order, the Paramount Ruler demanded that the Dom Kere – “town crier,” bring the “Kere Bon” – “the Giant Community Wooden Gong” and beat.

                                         

                                    

                                                CHAPTER  SIXTEEN

In Kpaabee community and indeed among the Gokana people, the “Kere Bon” is respected. When the “Dom Kere” hits it, everybody pays attention. In fact, little noise-making children could be spanked by their parents after they had been warned and they still continued their unrepentant noise making habit.

Because of the importance the Gokana people give to the “Kere Bon”, it is hit only when important messages are to be passed to the people. The “Dom Kere” hits the “Kere Bon” with strength and no matter how noisy a place was, some level of quietness must ensue. Different persons all had different things to say.

“I am greatly disappointed in you, Ndobadee. Look at what you turn Tomka into – an ordinary condemned criminal,” cried Chief Akpe.

“God punish you, Ndobadee. You almost destroyed the life of an innocent man – a man that we all know to be of high integrity,” cried one woman.

“May the Kpaabee Deity strike you dead,” cried another woman.

“Order! Order! Order!”, cried the Prime Minister.

There was a measure of silence.

So, who killed Mbomkoo now that you have told us that Tomka is not the murderer?  inquired the Paramount Ruler.

Tee Ndobadee waited for some seconds, then mumbled vaguely.

“When an old man is given a tray of eggs to carry, he should also be given a walking stick to steady his steps. I wish I had a walking stick to steady my steps while carrying the tray of eggs given to me.” He sighed again so loudly.

“We are still waiting for you, Our Chief Priest,” the Paramount Ruler reminded.  

“Chief Nvingah and Chief Vigaage did”, he responded.

There was uproar again.

“Order! Order! Order!”, cried the Prime Minister. There was a level of silence. 

“So, what made you give the verdict of guilt on Tomka instead of the two chiefs,” demanded the Prime Minister.

Ndobadee pleaded with the Paramount Ruler, chiefs and Kpaabee that they should forgive him and take him as they took him in the past. That poverty was the reason behind his taking bribe from Chiefs Vigaage and Nvingah. That he was seriously in lack so he could not help accepting the money that they offered him. That as they could observe, he had always been a sincere chief priest and the mouthpiece of the gods in the past.

“So, how much did they offer you,” inquired the Paramount Ruler.

“I was bribed with N500,000”, he responded.

“So, you mean you can kill somebody because of money as little as N500,000” interrogated Chief Kiebel.

“Please, chiefs and people of Kpaabee, ask no more. It is of no use. I have sinned against God and men. Please, forgive me,” he pleaded. 

The Paramount Ruler said that they had accepted his plea for leniency but demanded to know the reason behind the two chiefs wanting to kill Tomka.

“They thought that Chief Tomka was the only person who stood in their path to clinching the grand prize of the Esdross Oil Limited Farming Prize of N5,000,000. So, they wanted him out of the way. When they felt that the case might end up at the Kpaabee Deity shrine, they decided coming to me first and bribing me to be on their side.

The temptation was too much for me to bear because even that day, hunger was driving my family crazily. Apart from that, the heavy rain that fell that day drenched us all, including the two chiefs, as there are countless holes in my roof. 

I know that these are no reasons for effecting another man’s death; that is why I plead for mercy. Oh, how I wish I had a stick to steady my steps while carrying the tray of eggs!”  

Then the Paramount Ruler faced Nvingah and Vigaage.

“Please, give yourselves your last chiefly respect and answer me sincerely.

You, Nvingah, did both of you kill Mbomkoo or not?”

“I do not know what you are talking about. This is just a calculated attempt by Ndaki and this confused, old man from Atuuma to tarnish my good image,” he responded.

“And what about the chief priest? Is it also his calculated attempt to tarnish your ‘good image’? asked the Prime Minister.

“Ehmm! No…Eh..! Y…yes!” stammered Nvingah.

“Nvingah, why should everybody now want to tarnish your good image?” queried Chief Akpe – the oldest surviving chief. 

“I don’t know. Am I money that everybody loves? May be, for certain reasons unknown to me, they now just decide to hate me,” he responded.

“So many people now hate Nvingah,” observed the Paramount Ruler, sneeringly. “Ndaki said that you gave him N400,000 and that he had squandered  N70,000. He threw the remaining N330,000 at you. Look at the pieces all over here – bloody money! Everybody now hates Nwingah, isn’t it?

The chief priest said you gave him N500,000 as bribe; that was why he gave the wrong verdict. We all know that before now he was rated, if not the first, the second most trusted chief priest in the whole of Gokana kingdom. Because of you, he is now disgraced. Both of them, including this old man from Atuuma – a total stranger, hate Chief Nvingah. Isn’t it? They hate him as humans do faeces. Isn’t it?”

Nvingah was silent. He could not answer the question.

“Oh, are you silent now? I think you should continue stamping your feet and denying the obvious. Can’t you see that Daniel has already explained the handwriting on the wall? Do you think that we are still at the scene of “Mene, Mene, Tekel, u Pharsin?”

We have passed there. You are a chief and I expected you to know the point that we crossed there. You are not a baby. We are now at the scene of ‘God has numbered the days of your reign and brought it to an end; you have been weighed on the scales and found wanting; your kingdom is divided between the Medes and the Persians.’ If you do not understand me, I used Daniel chapter 5 to speak to you.”

 Nvingah was silent. He could not deny further. The Paramount Ruler looked at him for a long time then sighed and spoke.

“Now I know – ‘whoever the gods want to kill, they first of all make mad’.

Then he faced Vigaage and asked the same question.

“Did both of you kill Mbomkoo or not, Chief Vigaage?

 Vigaage thought for about two minutes. He already knew that the game was up and that the truth had been found out. That the Paramount Ruler only wanted them to confess the evil committed.

Better to confess the evil committed, plead for forgiveness and die with a little measure of integrity than deny the obvious truth already discovered and die with no integrity at all, he thought. Then came the response.

“Yes, both of us killed Mbomkoo in his hut at the Bara Nkobaa woods. His Majesty, chiefs and people of Kpaabee, please, forgive us. It is of no use denying the glaring fact.

Then, he faced Tomka, who up till then was still facing downwards, speechless.

“Please, Tomka, find a place in your heart and plead with your god that he should forgive us.”

The Paramount Ruler looked steadily into the sky, apparently thinking of the next line of action to take. Then, he ordered Aagbara Loo-mma, the youth leader.

“Get a youth to cut five gono kua canes for me.”

(Gono kua is a shrub that grows wildly in Gokana and is commonly used in schools as cane. They are slender and when matured and used as cane, they are sturdy and very painful on the skin.)  

Within four minutes, the boy came with the four gono kua canes requested.

“Nvingah, step forward,” the Paramount Ruler ordered.

He did.

“Aagbara, step forward,” he ordered again.

He did.

“I must end certain nonsense in this community. ‘A mistake not immediately corrected soon becomes a custom’. Murder and murder accusation should be the last things we want to see and hear in Kpaabee,” he announced.

“Aagbara, strip him of his etibo shirt,” he ordered.

“Strip me of my clothes?”, retorted Nvingah. “I will not allow…”

“Do not dare me, Nvingah, if not he will also strip you of your trousers,” interposed the Paramount Ruler. ‘When a man suddenly starts playing in the sand with children, at that time he is also looked at as a child.’”

Aagbara Loo-mma stripped him of his etibo shirt, exposing his bare upper body.

“Koo Kuru”, he called. “You are the greatest wrestler of Kpaabee. I need your strength now. Step forward.

He did.

“Call any two strong men of your choice,” he requested.

Koo Kuru called out two warriors of Kpaabee.

“Warriors, each of you hold each of Nvingah’s hand and steady him with your strength as he receives the strokes. ‘When a man exposes his long manhood in the presence of children, they drag it, taking it to be rope for their tug of war.’”

“Koo Kuru, give Nvingah fifteen strokes of the gono kua canes here”, directed the Paramount Ruler. “I do not need to remind you that it has to be done with all your strength. Of course, you should know that that is the reason why a man of your type is called upon. ‘When a man exposes his scrotum, dogs bite it thinking that it is meat.’” 

Koo Kuru did as directed by the Paramount Ruler. Nvingah’s back was oozing blood. He wriggled in pain as Koo Kuru was completely soaked with his own sweat.

“That serves you well, Nvingah. I didn’t know that you were an incorrigible liar among men that were supposed to be above board. That is the punishment for being a very good liar”, the Paramount Ruler explained.

He called out again. 

“Koo Kuru, Aagbara and the two warriors, come out again. You have a second job to do. The four of you, tie up these two evil chiefs. I wish they had not answered that name at all. ‘The child that says his mother will not sleep, he too, will not sleep.’ 

The four strong men of Kpaabee bound the two chiefs, hand and leg and waited for the next instruction from the ruler.

“Push them into the pit and cover them up,” he roared.

They pushed them into the pit and covered them up - the same pit meant for Tomka, likeable to the case of the biblical Haman, who was hanged on the same gallows he prepared for Mordecai, the Jew.

“‘When the junk bug gathers a heap of debris on its back, it carries them’. From today,” declared the Paramount Ruler, “no sane Kpaabee citizen will neither dream of murder nor peddle false, malicious and life-threatening murder accusation against another Kpaabee citizen.” 

                                         

                                      

                                      CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN 

Now was the time to face the chief priest and Ndaki. They had to pay for their false murder accusation against Tomka.

“Ndaki! Ndobadee! Step forward.”

Both slanderers came forward.

“You almost made me loose Chief Tomka, a keystone of integrity of Kpaabee. I almost lost a gem but thanks to the Almighty God, who sent his angel in the form of this old man here from Atuuma. By this minute, Tomka would have been long dead.

Both of you know the rule. The laws of Kpaabee, especially relating to murder, are like those of the ancient Media and Persia that could never be altered, not minding the personality involved.

From today, Ndobadee, you cease to be the chief priest of the Kpaabee Deity. The deity will name his new chief priest soon. 

Now, both of you go to the front. The warriors of Kpaabee will lead you to the bank of the Muu Nzorpiriko. From today, I place a curse on you. You are no longer  citizens of Kpaabee. You shall not be seen anywhere in Kpaabee whether in the day or night. May Kpaabee Deity strike you dead if you do.

Ndaki, you are going alone since you have not married. Ndobadee, take your wife and children now from the crowd and start the procession. ‘The cooking pot for the lizard is also the cooking pot for the chameleon.’”

Ndobadee took his wife and children and together with Ndaki, were excommunicated from Kpaabee. They were escorted by the crowd to the nearby Muu Nzorpiriko. Upon reaching the bank of the stream, the Paramount Ruler decreed.

“From today, I retrieve and cancel your citizenship of Kpaabee. You shall have nothing to do with Kpaabee until the end of your miserable lives. However, if your descendants so wish, they may be reabsorbed into the Kpaabee community on the condition that they take an oath that they will not follow your bad examples. Then, they will be purified and the excommunication seal will be broken.

Now, cross over to the other side. No one cares to know where and how you spend and end your miserable lives from now on. You are now on your own. So, move on.”

They moved across the stream to the other side and the Paramount Ruler struck his staff on the stream, signifying that the door has been closed spiritually against them.

When he had done this, he turned and faced Tomka, with eyes filled with tears. Then, he spoke.

“Tomka, my beloved, please, find a place in your heart to forgive me, my remaining chiefs and the entire people of Kpaabee community. We have wronged you beyond measure. Please, accept our apology.

I do not see you now as the ordinary Tomka I used to know. To me, now, you are an angel among humans – a God-sent to Kpaabee. I would have gone bonkers if you had been killed and we later discover that you were innocent. Thanks be to your god, who did not allow you to die within this trying period of your life.

Tomka, life sometimes, could be very unnecessarily wicked. We were all misled by Ndaki and Ndobadee - the chief priest. Both acted their parts in such a way that sounded too convincing to be doubted. Besides, we have not had cases of false or imperfect verdicts tendered by the Kpaabee deity. Don’t be mad at us. I just want to hear your voice, assuring me that our apology is accepted.”

Tomka rose, supported by two young men. He was now very hungry and completely stressed up due to the ‘hell’ that he passed through within the previous three days. In fact, the last meal he ate was the breakfast of the previous day, which means that he had not eaten for the previous twenty eight hours. His family was virtually prevented from seeing him and no food was allowed to reach him. Almost everybody right from the previous day took him to be a condemned criminal, awaiting execution the following day. That he had not eaten meant nothing to anybody. After all, of what use was food to a man who was to die within few hours? 

He looked at them, section by section. Some women started shedding tears while some others actually cried. Tears of love and joy rekindled for a worthy life preserved. One woman, who could not hold herself anymore, ran to him, kneeling, sobbing.

“Tomka, please, forgive Kpaabee. Find a place in your heart and forgive Kpaabee, pleeaasse.”

Many other women followed her example, all shedding tears, sobbing and pleading. Soon the scene was as if somebody died. Then Tomka spoke, his voice almost inaudible due to hunger and stress.

“Men, women, chiefs and entire people of Kpaabee, I have heard your apology and I have accepted it. Thank you for your renewed love. I shall treasure it. It is well.

I invite everybody to my church tomorrow for the thanksgiving ceremony. I was dead but God delivered me.”

Everybody was very happy. Then, the Paramount Ruler spoke.

“I’m happy that you have accepted our apology, Tomka, but if it is your will, I would suggest that you make the venue the Community Primary School 1, Kpaabee football field where it would accommodate a large crowd of people. If you would sanction it, I would love it to be a community thanksgiving and not just your personal thanksgiving.

Leave every other expense in my hand – arena, feeding, drinks, sound system etc. I shall procure immediately, two mature cows, ten bags of parboiled rice, a trailer load of Maltina, two hundred jars of palm wine, five hundred bottles of champagne and the full condiments for cooking the rice. Just give me the go-ahead signal.”

“Apart from that,” added Madam Cash, the community women leader, “we, the women of Kpaabee would like us to eat our most celebrated dishes. We are equal to the task. Just give me the go-ahead. Our friend, our brother, our teacher, our dove - Oh! Oh! Oh! Our pride was almost dead but thanks be to God that he is alive.”

Tomka, despite still being in his dehumanizing condition, managed to smile and respond.

“Thank you, Kpaabee. I have accepted your desire of making the thanksgiving ceremony community-based. We can all celebrate this together to the glory of the Almighty God. It was he who did this.”

Everybody was happy. Then, the Paramount Ruler spoke.

“Chief Zorasi, you are the prime minister. Re-cap Tomka. There is no time to waste.”

Chief Zorasi re-capped Tomka amidst thunderous cheers and applause from the jubilant and anxious-looking crowd of Kpaabee people.

“I welcome you back to my cabinet; Kpaabee welcomes you.

By the authority vested on me as the Paramount Ruler of Kpaabee community, I re-pronounce you ‘Chief Tomka’ from this minute.”

Everybody shouted.

“Ii… seeeee…!”    

“Now, Chief Akpe, you are the oldest chief in Kpaabee. Embrace Chief Tomka and lead him to the other chiefs.

Chief Akpe embraced and hugged Chief Tomka for about one minute and then led him gently, as his aging legs could afford, to the other waiting chiefs. He was hugged and welcomed warmly. None seemed to be jealous of the atmosphere prevailing.

“Hip! Hip! Hip!” shouted Chief Aleelo.

“Hurray!” thundered the crowd in reply.

“Hip! Hip! Hip!” he shouted again.

 “Hurray!” The crowd thundered again.

“Hip! Hip! Hip! Hip! Hiiiiiip! He concluded.

“Huuuuu----rraaaayy!, thundered the crowd reverberatingly. Some people obviously tried to out-respond the others, making the final ‘hurray’ last longer than three minutes. It looked as if even the grasses joined in echoing it too. Joy was pervasive.

“Madam Cash, you are the women leader. Please, go and prepare a delicious meal for Chief Tomka. I would be very happy with you if you could do that within the next forty minutes. Meanwhile, source immediately for fruits and other snacks that can sustain him till the meal is prepared. So, please, leave the scene now so that immediately he leaves here, he can be fed and have his life refreshed,” the Paramount Ruler directed.

Madam Cash hurried off to her house immediately to take up the assignment.

“My people,” cried the Paramount Ruler, “I plead with you all to be like Chief Tomka. All of us are happy today because of his life of integrity. People love, respect and value men of integrity. From now on, let no one take any retrograde step. Expect grave retribution for any felony committed. On the other hand, henceforth, Kpaabee shall celebrate beyond imagination, men of integrity and women that bring honour to Kpaabee.

Everybody in Kpaabee should serve God well. From the dream that I had, which I will publicly declare tomorrow, from what I see today and from what I have noticed about the life of Chief Tomka, I declare him a saint. He is more righteous than I am, I must confess.

Wait a minute; it seems all this was a blessing in disguise. Was God trying to use this means to explain to Kpaabee how we can successfully get the best from our land badly battered by oil exploration and exploitation? Chief Tomka gave us a full lecture on how we can successfully and scientifically get the best from our not-too-rich soil. Let everybody go home and practice it that there may be more than enough food in Kpaabee.

Chief Tomka won’t just divulge his treasured secret of his bizarre farming success for nothing. I have decided that henceforth till the next eight years, any person that clinches the grand prize from him (which is very possible now that he has divulged the secret of his weird farming prowess, which in my opinion, I think he did not reserve any to himself) will reimburse him the sum of N1,000,000.

Oh, I think I have just conceived a better idea. I shall officially write to Esdross Oil Limited and explain all that transpired these few days and our desire as a community, that the company pay him the sum of N1,000,000 each year that he could not clinch the grand prize while paying the person that clinches the grand prize N4,000,000. However, if he clinches the grand prize, the whole amount should be given to him as usual.

Chief Tomka, we are indeed very sorry for making you divulge your two-year secret. However, I think you should consider that God has made you a beacon of hope, a son of consolation and a blessing to Kpaabee which I think is very noble. I hope you are not mad at us on this issue. If you are, please, forgive us sincerely,” he concluded.

“I’m not at all mad with Kpaabee. I am now even happy that I let Kpaabee know the secret of getting the best from their land. I am okay with your proposal. It is well,” he replied.  

“Great Kpaabee people!” thundered the Paramount Ruler in excitement.

“Great!” echoed the crowd in reply.

“Great Kpaabee people!” he thundered again.

“Greeeeaaat!” the ebullient and enthusiastic crowd re-echoed.

“Great, Great, Great, Great Kpaabee people!”

“Greeeeeeaaaaaaaaat!” They thundered almost out of breath in ebullience – the dawn of a new beginning in Kpaabee.

They sang and danced and dispersed in joyful mood.