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‘Did not my grandfather put a stop to ichi in Umuaro? He stood up in all his awe and said: We shall no longer carve our faces as if they were ozo doors.’
‘He did it,’ said Akuebue.
‘What was
Umuaro’s reply to him? They cursed him; they said their men would look like women. They said: how is a man’s endurance to be tested? Today who asks such a question?’
Akuebue felt that he had already agreed with Ezeulu sufficiently to be able to dissent again. ‘What you say cannot be doubted,’ he said, ‘but if what we are told is true, your grandfather was not alone in that fight. There were said to be more people against ichi in Umuaro than…’
‘Was that how your father told you the story? I heard differently. Anyhow the important thing was that the Chief Priest led them and they followed. But if there is hearsay in that one, what about events in my father’s time? You were not an infant when my father set aside the custom which made any child born to a widow a slave unless…’
‘I am not the man to dispute any of the things you say, Ezeulu. I am your friend and I can talk to you as I like; but that does not mean I forget that one half of you is man and the other half spirit. And what you say about your father and grandfather is very true. But what happened in their time and what is happening today are not the same; they do not even have resemblance. Your father and grandfather did not do what they did to please a stranger…’
This stung Ezeulu sharply but again he kept a firm hold on his anger.
‘Do not make me laugh,’ he said. ‘If someone came to you and said that Ezeulu sent his son to a strange religion so as to please another man what would you tell him? I say don’t make me laugh. Shall I tell you why I sent my son? Then listen. A disease that has never been seen before cannot be cured with everyday herbs. When we want to make a charm we look for the animal whose blood can match its power; if a chicken cannot do it we look for a goat or a ram; if that is not sufficient we send for a bull. But sometimes even a bull does not suffice, then we must look for a human. Do you think it is the sound of the death-cry gurgling through blood that we want to hear? No, my friend, we do it because we have reached the very end of things and we know that neither a cock nor a goat nor even a bull will do. And our fathers have told us that it may even happen to an unfortunate generation that they are pushed beyond the end of things, and their back is broken and hung over a fire. When this happens they may sacrifice their own blood. This is what our sages meant when they said that a man who has nowhere else to put his hand for support puts it on his own knee. That was why our ancestors when they were pushed beyond the end of things by the warriors of Abam sacrificed not a stranger but one of themselves and made the great medicine which they called Ulu.’
Akuebue cracked his fingers and moved his head up and down. ‘So it is a sacrifice,’ he muttered to himself. ‘So Edogo was right after all, though he had seemed so foolish at the time.’ He paused a while then spoke aloud:
‘What happens if this boy you are sacrificing turns out to be the one chosen by Ulu when you are looked for and not found.’
‘Leave that to the deity. When the time comes of which you speak Ulu will not seek your advice or help. So do not keep awake at night for that.’
‘I don’t, why should I? My compound is full of its own troubles, so why should I carry yours home; where would I find space to put them? But I must repeat what I said before and if you don’t want to listen you can stop your ears. When you spoke against the war with Okperi you were not alone. I too was against it and so were many others. But if you send your son to join strangers in desecrating the land you will be alone. You may go and mark it on that wall to remind you that I said so.’
‘Who is to say when the land of Umuaro has been desecrated, you or I?’ Ezeulu’s mouth was shaped with haughty indifference. ‘As for being alone, do you not think that it should be as familiar to me now as are dead bodies to the earth? My friend, don’t make me laugh.’
Nwafo who had come into his father’s hut when Akuebue was saying of Ezeulu that he was half-man, half-spirit did not understand the present dispute between the two men. But he had seen equally dangerous-looking scenes come to nothing before. He was therefore not in the least surprised when his father sent him to get palm oil sprinkled with ground pepper from his mother. When he returned with it Ezeulu had already brought down his round basket. This basket had a close-fitting lid and dangled from the roof directly above the log fire. Dangling with it were Ezeulu’s ceremonial raffia skirt, two calabashes and a few heads of last season’s maize specially chosen, on account of their good quality, for planting. Basket, maize and raffia skirt were all black with smoke.
Ezeulu opened the round basket and brought out a boiled and smoked leg of goat and cut a big piece for Akuebue and a very small one for himself.
‘I think I shall need something to wrap this,’ said Akuebue. Ezeulu sent Nwafo to cut a piece of banana leaf which he held above the smouldering log fire till it wilted slightly and lost its brittle freshness; then he passed it to Akuebue who divided the meat into two, wrapped the bigger half in the banana leaf and put it away in his bag. Then he began to eat the other half, dipping it in the peppered palm oil.
Ezeulu gave a little strand from his own piece to Nwafo and threw the remainder into his mouth. For a long time they ate in silence and when they began to talk again it was about less weighty things. Ezeulu broke off a toothpick from the broom lying on the floor near him and leaned back on the wall. From that position he easily commanded the approaches to his compound and the compound of his two sons. He was thus the first to notice the arrival of the Court Messenger and his escort.
When the two strangers reached Ezeulu’s threshold the escort clapped his hands and said: ‘Are the owners of this house at home?’ There was a slight pause before Ezeulu answered: ‘Enter and you will see.’ The escort bent down at the low eaves and entered first; then the other followed. Ezeulu welcomed them and told them to sit down. The Court Messenger sat on the mud-bed but his escort remained standing. The greetings over he saluted Ezeulu and explained that he was the son of Nwodika in Umunneora.
‘I thought I saw your father’s face as soon as you came in,’ said Akuebue.
‘Very true,’ said Ezeulu. ‘Anyone setting eyes on him knows he has seen Nwodika. Your friend seems to have come from far.’
‘Yes, we have come from Okperi…’
‘Do you live in Okperi then?’ asked Ezeulu.
‘Yes,’ replied Akuebue. ‘Have you not heard of one of our young men who lives with the white man in Okperi?’
Ezeulu had indeed heard but deliberately feigned ignorance.
‘True?’ he asked. ‘I do not hear many things nowadays. So you have come all the way from Okperi this morning and you are here already? It is good to be strong and young. How are the people of my mother’s land? You know my mother came from Okperi.’
‘There was nothing but happiness and laughter when we left; what has happened since I cannot say.’
‘And who is your companion?’
‘He is the Chief Messenger of the great white man, the Destroyer of Guns.’
Ezeulu cracked his fingers and nodded.
