A fictional story by Usman Adamu Attaboh
The Ifa priest—Baba Abejuka—swayed to the left and to the right as he moved with his goat-skin bag hanging on his right shoulder. He had only one eye; an open space partly covered by the eyelids was visible for all to see where the left eye should have been.
The king’s three special messengers who had been sent to fetch him, followed closely behind him. It had taken them seven weeks to locate him and bring him to Idah. Seven weeks in which they were barred from entering Idah or visiting their families. After traveling hundreds of kilometres on horseback, they had finally found him by a cave at Lokoja, close to the point Rivers Niger and Benue meet after five weeks. They had used one whole week persuading him to follow them to Idah and another week returning.
“Attah gabaidu !” Baba Abejuka greeted from the doorway to the king’s large palace.
“May your reign be long and peaceful, son of Idoko, the lion of Igalaland!” he continued. Attah Ayegba simply waved his staff of office—a horsetail crafted beautifully into a staff—to acknowledge his greeting.
“ Agabaidu !” the messengers shouted in unison, prostrating before the king who was now standing on his feet. The chief priest was forbidden by the culture of the people from prostrating before the king or anyone for that matter. He bowed only to the gods.
King Ayegba only returned to his stool after the priest had taken his on the bare ground, as his custom was. Ayegba came down momentarily from his stool to handover the usual consultation fee of a cowry to the priest before returning. The priest gesticulated for him to drop it near his “okpele”—his divination tool.
“May the gods have good news for you, oh king,” he prayed. “Amin!” the people answered.
Abejuka picked up the “okpele,” threw it on the ground, peered into it and picked it up again. He threw it a second time and smiled broadly. All was silent in the palace.
“May your reign be long great king. Inikpi is the reincarnation of your grandmother, Oja Ologoma,” he said tersely. A shout of adulation went up from the crowd and the king smiled broadly. No one had told the priest why he was wanted. Even the servants sent to fetch him did not know. It equally surprised all how the priest knew Inikpi’s name as well as that of the king’s grandmother. “She is on a positive mission,” Abejuka continued adding “she shall deliver the Igala people from the yoke of their major enemies but…it…it…shall be at a great cost. A great cost, oh king. Agabaidu !” he greeted with a tone of finality.
“ Agabaidu !” the people responded prostrating before the king. This was good news and called for celebration.There was no cause for alarm. If the prediction had been negative, anything could happen. It was not uncommon for a child who is said to be on an “evil mission” to be cast into the evil forest and left there to starve to death or be eaten by wild animals. Every of the king’s twenty one children had a similar inquiry made at their birth. Inikpi’s mission was particularly pleasing.
Baba Abejuka left with some goats after which a big party followed with plenty to eat and drink. The chief musicians were hastily summoned. The party lasted far into the night.
The years passed and Inikpi grew into a very beautiful lady. She was very fair in complexion with hair reaching to her slim waist. She had a pointed nose and carried herself regally and with dignity. She was forbidden from doing any household chores.
Once in a while, however, she disobeyed her parents and accompanied some of the female servants to the stream, three kilometres away, to get potable water especially during the dry season.
On one such occasion, she accompanied six of the female servants on the trip. It would have been the usual uneventful type where those they passed on the way curtsied before Inikpi by bending their knees before her but for the fact they ran into Ogbadu—the first son of the war general or “Inalogwu” of the kingdom. Ogbadu was tall, dark and extremely handsome. He had hair all over his chest and spoke with a rare baritone.
“ Abumele ?” He greeted the maids until his eyes fell on Inikpi.
“ Asholafia ,” the maids answered bending their knees slightly but Ogbadu did not hear them. His eyes were fixed on Inikpi’s and for about fifteen seconds, time seemed to stop for both of them. He was returning from checking one of his traps and had a machete in his right hand.
“Greetings Princess Inikpi,” he said. No one had told him she was the princess he had heard so much about. “I greet you sir,” Inikpi replied blushing.
“Call me Ogbadu. I am the first son of the Inalogwu,” he said smiling. Even though he had heard so much about Inikpi, he still was dazed by her beauty. “Greet your family for me, please,” she replied. “I will, great princess and may the king live long,” Ogbadu responded and they all moved on. Inikpi could not explain it but she felt an urge to try to see him again.
No sooner had they parted, however, than distress cries were heard from the direction of the stream.
“ Megbawa o! Help! Help!” people screamed throwing away their pots and fleeing in different directions. The Jukun warriors who had laid a siege near the stream had struck. Inikpi was dumbfounded into inactivity but the girls she was accompanying had scattered in different directions. Three men appeared clutching machetes. No one needed to tell her they were the dreaded Jukun warriors—age long foes of the Igala people. The three men were momentarily dazed into inaction by the sight before them. They exchanged quick glances. No one needed to tell them the damsel standing before them was from a royal home. Hurting her was out of the question. They would simply abduct her to their territory. The tussle over who deserved to have her would follow afterwards. As if reading their thoughts, Inikpi attempted to run but a vice like grip pulled her back and soon, Tervese, the tallest of the three men, scooped her up unto his shoulders after dropping his machete.
“Drop me! Drop me this minute!” Inikpi screamed but he simply turned in the direction of the stream prepared to go across it as fast as possible.
“Stop there!” Ogbadu commanded brandishing his machete and waving it in the air.
“Who are you, young man? Are you not afraid of us?” Gwazza demanded. “Drop her now!” Ogbadu responded putting more bite in the command. “Young man, you just lost your chance to escape,” Terverse said coldly dropping Inikpi in a heap and picking up his machete. He suddenly lunged forward with the weapon aimed at Ogbadu’s head. Ogbadu ducked, picked him up on his right shoulder and threw him hard against the trunk of the nearest tree. Terverse landed with his head and went limp after convulsing for a while. As if on cue, the two remaining warriors took to their heels.
“Quick princess!” Ogbadu urged Inikpi. “Follow me!” It was no use. Inikpi was dazed by everything happening around her and could only stare ahead of her prompting Ogbadu to pick her up on his shoulders and run as fast as he could.
Chapter 2
The six female servants returned to the palace panting. For some minutes, none of them could find her voice or courage and explain what had happened when they were summoned before the king.
“Where is Inikpi, my beloved daughter?” the king kept demanding. “If you don’t answer me this second, I will have all of you beheaded!” he threatened. Ele found her voice at this point. “She…she…we…we…were…attacked by…by Jukun warriors… and…she…she—”
The king could take no more.
“Summon the warriors!” he commanded the town crier and rushed into his chamber to put on his armour.
In three minutes, King Ayegba returned fully dressed in his war gear. The skin of a lion covered him all over with his head covered by the lion’s mane. He was holding a sword in place of his staff of office. “Where are the warriors?” he demanded rushing outside only to meet people gathering around two human figures sprawled on the ground. He soon sighted Inikpi and rushed to her, picked her in his arms and made for his chamber once again. No one is supposed to see an Attah Igala cry for that was what King Ayegba did as soon as he was alone with her. He only stopped when his fourth wife—Inikpi’s mother—came in.
“I am alright, father,” Inikpi whispered. It was her mother’s turn to cry. “Where is Ogbadu?” she soon demanded. “Ogbadu? Who is that?” the king asked?
“The brave man that rescued me, father.”
With that, they all rushed out to find people still surrounding Ogbadu who was now sitting on the floor beside his machete. He did not know how he had managed the distance of about two kilometres carrying Inikpi on his shoulders. Some of the warriors arrived at this point. ” Agabaidu !” they greeted prostrating. “Move at once to the stream and ensure the marauders are dealt with!” Ayegba commanded. ” Agabaidu !” they responded rushing out promptly. There were fifty of them.
The warriors moved fast but stealthily especially when they got to the about one kilometre stretch of forest that completed the three-kilometre journey to the stream and scattered in different directions. Without warning, men suddenly sprang out from different directions clutching matchetes and thrusting, slashing and stabbing at them. The battle was bloody but by nightfall, the invaders were sent scampering through the stream to their territory. Ten of them laid dead while the Igala people lost two of their men. The maidens they had earlier tied to tree trunks in preparation for the return journey to Jukun land, across the stream, were all released. Tears of joy flowed from their faces on the return journey home amidst singing and dancing.
Back in the palace, Ogbadu prostrated before the king on regaining his composure. ” Agabaidu !” he greeted. “Stand up! Stand up my son,” the king replied bending to pick him up. “You acted gallantly and rescued my daughter, my precious daughter, Inikpi, and you shall be handsomely rewarded. Whose son are you?”
“I am the first son of the Inalogwu, your majesty,” Ogbadu replied.
“No wonder. I am not surprised at all. Your father’s blood flows in your veins. I shall give you two of my rare white horses and ten cows. In addition, you shall be drafted among my chief warriors,” the king offered.
“Thank you very much, your majesty. I am most honoured but I only did what is expected of me. Anyone would have done the same thing. The gods only should be praised so I humbly decline to accept the gifts but will gladly accept to join your elite warriors. It is high time we put a stop to the activities of these marauders and secure lasting peace for our people,” Ogbadu replied prostrating.
“Aww! Stand up my son. I see you are even more noble than I thought. I know what to do. I shall persuade your father to keep the gifts for you,” the king said smiling. “I shall send for you soon,” he said and left Ogbadu smiling. He made straight for Inikpi’s room.
Inikpi was being forced to eat by her mother when the king entered. She just did not have the appetite. But for Ogbadu’s bravery, she knew she would have been somewhere in Jukun territory at this point and, going by the look on the faces of the men, she knew she would have been in serious trouble.
“Has Inikpi eaten enough?” the king asked. “She has hardly touched the food, my lord,” the queen replied. The plate of akara or beancakes as a well as the bowl of pap or akamu was truly barely touched. “Don’t worry. I shall soon have a cow slaughtered in her honour so you can prepare pounded yam and oro okohio for her. You know that’s her favourite food.” The queen nodded.
“How are you feeling Inikpi?” he asked. “Fine, father. The hoodlums did not harm me in anyway, thanks to Ogbadu’s bravery,” she replied. “The gods be praised,” the queen stated raising both hands to the heavens. “From today, no more visits to the stream for you,” the king stated. “But father—”
“No buts Inikpi. That’s an order,” the king said and walked out of the room.
Ogbadu visited the palace three days later carrying an antelope or atu as the Igala people call it, in a basket he placed on his head. “This is for the royal family,” he said after prostrating before the king. “I caught it while hunting today.”
“You don’t cease to amaze me, young man. Thank you very much Ogbadu,” the king replied smiling broadly. “We really appreciate this.”
“How is the princess doing?” Ogbadu asked. “Oh. Very well, my son. She recovered from the shock that same day. She is somewhere in the garden since I have left strict instructions she is not to be allowed outside this palace for now,” the king replied and beckoned on one of the guards to take him to her.
Inikpi was sitting on a low, beautifully crafted wooden stool when Ogbadu entered. She was watering some flowers but she jumped to her feet instantly on seeing him. “Oloroka ,” she greeted blushing and bent her knees slightly. Ogbadu was touched. “Good afternoon princess. How are you doing?”
“Fine, Ogbadu. Thanks to your bravery. The story would have been different.”
“Anyone would have done same. Only a blind man would have acted differently. You look just like the goddess of beauty herself, you know, princess.”
“Thank you very much. I am flattered.”
“I did not mean to flatter you. It is the truth.”
Their conversation stretched on and on. Soon, it was time for Ogbadu to leave.
“Are you leaving so soon?” Inikpi quipped. “So soon? I have been here two hours and even had lunch here and you still feel that’s too short a time?”
In truth, though, Ogbadu was wondering how two hours could have passed so soon.
“You call the little snack you were offered lunch?” Inikpi was unrelenting. “You call that potful of goatmeat and oje abacha snacks?” They both laughed heartily.
Inikpi returned the visit a week later in the company of three of the king’s elite guards and some of her maidens and Ogbadu and his entire family was overjoyed. They were treated to a royal banquet. At the end of it, Inikpi rejected almost all the gifts presented to her. They were so many. She only kept a crown made from beads and thanked Ogbadu’s family immensely. It was so beautiful.
Later that night, King Ayegba and Inikpi’s mother discussed nothing but the growing intimacy between Inikpi and Ogbadu.
“Have you noticed how Inikpi blushes anytime he is around?” the queen teased. “Only a blind man would not notice that,” the king replied and they laughed heartily.
The conversation ended with the king promising to accept Ogbadu anytime he came knocking on their door with wine and the queen acquiesced smiling broadly. “I think they will make a fine couple,” she said.
Chapter 3
The Aku-Uka of Jukun land—His Majesty, King Aper Torkula—did not like what was happening in his kingdom and discussed it with twelve of his chiefs within his massive palace. He carried a deep frown on his face and raised his voice from time to time. “How can you all sit here and tell me the Attah of Igala land has continued to be stiff necked? Igala land is part of the vassal states of the Jukun people. It was so during the reign of my great grand father, my grand father and my father before I eventually ascended this throne. Why would it be different during my own reign? Does it mean I am weak?” He thundered looking from one face to the other.
“Be patient with us rankadede. We will bring them to their senses the hard way,” said the war general seated on one of the handcrafted stools in the room. “For how long shall I be patient, Kpera?” The king flared. “For how long shall I listen to your effeminate voice? I have heard the same thing for the past three years; three whole years!” Torkula fumed.
“Our people say if you stay on it long enough, you can cook a piece of rock until it is soft.” It was Aku, one of the oldest men in the kingdom and an adviser of the king who spoke.
“I have waited long enough Aku. If a man stays too long in the latrine, all kinds of flies will perch on him. Sometimes, patience can be mistaken for cowardice. I am not a coward; the Jukun people are not cowards. You all know it,” the king continued angrily. At the end of the day, it was decided a full scale offensive should be launched against the Igala people.
“If it means involving all our warriors, we should do so. Igala people are our slaves,” he concluded.
” Lafia zaki !” the men chorused and the meeting was adjourned. The war general of the Jukun people—Ortom Kpera—knew he had to do something and fast too, if he must continue to retain his job. The Igala people must be taught a bitter lesson, he reasoned. The Igbirra people were beginning to reduce the quantity of foodstuff they sent annually to the Jukuns. “Soon, they too will stop altogether in emulation of the Igala people,” he told his deputy, “so we must act fast. I want the Igala people to be used as a scapegoat of what the Jukun people do to those who refuse to pay their dues,” he concluded laughing mirthlessly.
A week later, the best of the Jukun warriors gathered at the village square with their swords, machetes, bows and arrows, clubs and even horses. At the end of that day, over ten thousand foot soldiers with about one thousand, five hundred horsemen were ready to be deployed for battle.
In Benin kingdom, Efosa was preparing to attend the emergency meeting the Oba just summoned in his palace. He took a long look at his wife and smiled. Omoye’s beauty is spoken of in Benin and environs. She was six feet tall with long hair which she held up in a loop on top of her pretty head and her hips swayed from left to right gracefully as she moved. Indeed, no man could ask for more in a woman and this, naturally, attracted the admiration of men and even women not easily given to envy.
“I wonder what the Oba would want to see us for so early in the morning,” Efosa told his wife. “Why not go and find out, my lord? At least, we know it is not a call to war else the alarm would have sounded by now,” she replied. “Thank the gods for that. I am not prepared to fight any war again in my life; not when I am blessed with a woman as beautiful and as faithful as you are, Pretty One,” he said patting her behind.
“You must leave now, my lord or be late. Even if there is a war, I will always be there for you and you alone,” she said. “Of course. I trust you, Omoye. Is it for nothing all the men in Benin envy me?” He wrapped his hands tightly around her. “What do you want me to buy you, my love?”
“What about the gold necklace you promised me?” Everyone in Benin knew Omoye loved gold. “One would have thought you are satisfied with gold ornaments by now, Omoye. You have almost a bagful of them.”
“Can any woman have enough of gold, my lord?” she queried smiling mischievously. “Okay, okay. I will get them for you after next harvesting season, when I would have sold my crops,” he replied. Omoye felt it was too long a time to wait but she did not say so. “I will see you when I return,” Efosa said and hugged her tighter again.
” Oba ghatokpere ! Ise !” the ten chiefs greeted as soon as the Oba stepped in. They went on to lift up their white wrapper and show the Oba their behind as custom demanded and the meeting commenced. “The Udezi of Akure has been proving stubborn lately,” Oba Ewuare said with an expressionless face. “One more week’s delay and he shall feel the wrath of the Oba,” the Army chief said. “No one can try that and get away with it!” At the end of deliberations, Uzazakpo and three of his fellow servants were sent out to deliver the message to the affected kings in their kingdoms. “Let them know I shall wait an additional one week only,” the Oba emphasized. ” Oba ghatokpere ! Ise !” The men chorused and the meeting shifted to the dining session.
It was while lunch was being served that Efosa offended everyone. He refused to eat.
“Your majesty, my wife is not only beautiful and loyal; she is also a fantastic cook. After eating her meals, I find it difficult to enjoy any other meals,” he explained proudly. Ewuare was visibly angry. It was not the first time Efosa will be boasting about his wife. “Even the king’s food, Efosa?” the king demanded angrily.
“Yes, your majesty,” he responded and everyone gasped loudly. “But since you are my king, I will take a morsel so I can have space for Omoye’s own when I get home,” he said smiling broadly. Ewuare shook his head and smiled.
“When a masquerade thinks he has become too powerful, it is time to show him the tree his mask was carved from,” he said to himself.
As soon as the meeting adjourned, Ewuare sent for the cunning cripple—Uwaifo, and he set to work instantly having been handsomely rewarded by the king.
Chapter 4
Uwaifo waited patiently on a lonely stretch of road through which Omoye normally passes to the market and hid himself among the bushes. As soon as he saw her approach, he jumped out and sauntered towards her on his walking stick. He was looking his best and had a beautiful gold necklace hanging around his rather long neck.
“Greetings Pretty One,” he saluted and bowed slightly still clutching his walking stick.
“I salute you Uwaifo. How are you?” Everyone knew Uwaifo because of his cunning nature and ability to tell good jokes. “Fine, thank you, Beautiful One,” Uwaifo replied making sure the gold necklace was visible. It shone brightly from the rays of the sun reflected on it. “Are you on your way to the —”
“Is that thing around your neck real gold or imitation?” she interrupted him.
“How can it be imitation, Beautiful One? Am I now too poor to own one of these?” he asked, feigning anger. “Ah. Not so now, Uwaifo. Have I said that just now?”
“Well, for your information, I have several of these at home.” Omoye’s eyes opened wide in shock. “Really, Uwaifo?”
“Yes of course. If you doubt me, just follow me and see for yourself.”
“Follow you home?” Omoye asked surprised. “Well, you all accuse Uwaifo of being cunning. How do I prove to you I am not being cunning now if you don’t follow me home and see the twelve pieces?”
“Twelve pieces!” Omoye screamed. “Yes, twelve pieces. You know my house is on your route to the market, so you may as well see them if you want,” he said.
Omoye was lost in thought for a while.” Okay, but I will not stay more than a minute, “she stated.
“No problems at all,” he said and sauntered on his walking stick towards his house as fast as he could move. True to Uwaifo’s words, Omoye saw eleven other pieces of the gold necklace when they got to Uwaifo’s house. Her eyes sparkled in admiration.
“Wow! So it is true after all,” she said drooling over the items.
“Touch them and confirm they are not fake,” Uwaifo urged passing them over to her. Omoye was carried away. “Who would have thought you, of all people, can amass all of these. They must have cost a fortune!”
“Of course, they have. Nothing good comes easy or cheap, you know. Would you want some of these?” he knew he had to thread softly.
“Which woman wouldn’t,” she replied and they both laughed. “What would you pay for them?” he asked.
“Well, my dear husband promised me one at the end of the harvesting season but, I must confess, that is no where as beautiful as these. Money, money, money!” “I did not say how much can you pay. I said what can you pay for several of them?”
“Did you say several of them?” It sounded incredible to Omoye. Uwaifo appeared lost in thought then said hesitantly. “There are, well, er, many ways, er, a woman can pay for such items without money, you know.”
Omoye’s jaw dropped.
“What are you insinuating, Uwaifo?”
“Me, insinuate? I am not insinuating anything o,” he stated but the message had been sent. A heavy silence followed. Soon, Omoye’s heartbeat seemed to have increased and she got up to go. Uwaifo felt he had been defeated. He played his joker. “You can think about it till next week. I can give you six of these, Omoye,” he explained calling her by name for the first time and tapping her lightly on her lap. Omoye could not breathe properly again. Six of these, she wondered. “Let us wait till next week then,” she said and headed for the door. “You can come at exactly the same time. My wife would be at the market then,” he said. Omoye stepped out and banged the door loudly.
At exactly the same time the following week, Omoye was at Uwaifo’s house.
“My husband must not hear of this,” she said. “You can trust me, “Uwaifo replied making for the loose end of her wrapper. There was no time to waste. Uwaifo made love to her twice within a short time and gave her six pieces of the gold necklaces. It was heavenly. He took time to note the dark birth mark on her right breast in case the Oba asked for proof of his success.
It was at the next council meeting that the Oba summoned Uwaifo to narrate his escapade with Omoye to the hearing of all after Efosa, in his usual manner, sharply rebuked a maid who mistakenly splashed water on one of the chiefs while serving lunch.
“My wife would never make such a mistake, you know,” he said sarcastically and laughed heartily.
Uwaifo took time to explain how delicious Omoye had been.
“Liar!” Efosa screamed laughing hysterically. When Uwaifo mentioned the birth mark on her right breast and went on to describe the shape of the breasts and nipples, Efosa stormed out in shame in a fit of rage that threatened to choke him. It was the turn of the Oba and his council to laugh and they did heartily. They were all pleased Efosa would now be humble.
“ Oba ghatokpere ! Ise !” The chiefs screamed in unison.
The story of how Efosa brutally murdered his wife—Omoye— is still told in Benin till date. The story does not end here, however. After confirming the Oba’s involvement, Efosa decided to avenge the hard way. He plotted his move carefully, after all, it takes two to tango, he reasoned.
His Majesty King Ayegba Om’Idoko of Igala land summoned an emergency meeting as soon as the sentries stationed around the Inachalo River brought the information from the spies in Jukun land of an imminent attack from the Tor Jukun and his warriors. The spies said they counted close to twenty thousand warriors on ground who were set to attack.
Ayegba knew he could barely raise five thousand warriors in an emergency situation so he summoned the meeting pro-actively to find a way out.
The meeting was at an advanced stage when the sentries stationed around the Benin border with Igala land demanded an urgent audience with the king.
After initially refusing them entrance, the king’s chief guard soon allowed them in after hearing the message the three men came with.
“ Agabaidu !” They greeted prostrating before the king. “May your reign be long, your majesty.”
The king’s bards momentarily joined in eulogizing the king with a flutist playing beautifully in the background for a while before the king silenced them. He knew whatever news the sentries had to deliver must be very important for them to have been allowed in.
“The Oba of Benin is planning to attack Igala land and expand his territory?” He asked the sentries after hearing their message.
“Yes, your majesty,” they confirmed. For a moment, there was confusion and pandemonium threatened to be let loose among the people gathered, important dignitaries from all over Igala land.
“We are here planning how to defend ourselves against the Jukun warriors and you say the Benin people are planning theirs too?” The war general asked rhetorically. He is Ogbadu’s father.
” Elelelele ! One of the old advisers cried out. It was a cry of agony of impending doom among the Igala people.
“Shut up, Acheneje!” The king yelled at him.” Are you a woman?”
At the end of deliberations, it was decided only the gods could deliver the Igala people from imminent doom and, as such, Baba Abejuka, the spokesman of the gods, should be sent for with immediate effect. Seven servants were instantly sent out to begin the search for him.
What the Igala people did not know, however, was that Efosa was the one who bribed the sentries from proceeds he got from selling Omoye’s jewels to deliver the message they just did. At about the same time they were delivering their own message, another set of sentries Efosa had equally bribed, were telling the Oba of Benin that Igala warriors were preparing to attack Benin. It was a carefully mapped out ploy to cause war between the two neighbours.
As soon as Efosa saw the coded fire message go up in various parts of Benin to warn all warriors to be on alert, he knew his plan was working and he laughed heartily.
Chapter 5
It took several days to locate Baba Abejuka. In actual fact, it was he who located the messengers. They just discovered him sitting by the bank of the River Niger one morning as if he was waiting for them and he immediately accepted to follow them.
“Attah gabaidu !” he greeted in his thin voice as soon as he was brought before the king.
“You are highly welcome, Wise One,” the king responded rising to his feet. The relief on his face was glaring. Baba Abejuka had not changed an inch from the way he looked when he appeared before the king eighteen years earlier. He even had on the same costume and goatskin bag.
He swayed from left to right in his usual manner as he moved and finally settled on the bare ground. He proceeded to produce his “okpele” from his bag after which the king handed him the usual consultation fee of one cowry and returned to his throne. The tension among the people gathered, chiefs and elders numbering twenty four, was palpable.
Abejuka threw the “okpele” the first time, his brows furrowed, arranged it, picked it up again and threw it a second time. He frowned instantly.
“I smell doom!” he proclaimed.
“ Ojo kiko !” the crowd yelled in unison. “May the gods forbid!”
“Hmm. I smell doom but there is a way out,” he said.
” Agba sho !” the king shouted. “Thank you very much. It is not for nothing we sent for you. Please tell us that way out.”
Others nodded their approval of the king’s comment. Expectations were high.
“Hmm. There is a way out,” Abejuka repeated adding quickly “but that way out is equally as demanding as the doom itself.”
“Don’t speak in riddles, Wise One. Go ahead and tell us the way out,” the king pleaded rising to his feet. Others applauded the king’s comment. ”Attah gabaidu !” they chorused.
“The way out, the way out. Can the king pay the price the gods are demanding to avert the impending doom?” Abejuka asked starring intently at the king.
“Try me, Wise One. Try me and see whether I will not surpass the expectations of the gods,” the king replied.
“Okay then,” Abejuka said before clearing his throat loudly. “Nine virgins!” he screamed.
“Nine virgins?” The people asked in unison.
“What do we do with nine virgins, Wise One? Speak!” The king was beginning to be impatient.
“Nine virgins must be sacrificed on the nine strategic borders into Igala land,” Abejuka said and added “one of these virgins must be Inikpi, the king’s daughter.”
” Ojo kiko ! the gods forbid!” the people screamed again. The king was confused into silence but soon found his voice.
“My own beloved daughter to be sacrificed to the gods?” He asked rhetorically.
The war general spoke for the first time.
“Please, Wise One, tell the gods we shall offer the blood of a hundred virgins from Jukun land and Benin kingdom to them. Let them leave our daughters alone.”
” Agba sho . You have spoken well general. Ojo ki di enyon eh, the gods bless you,” the king said waving his staff at him.
“Ha! Ha!” Abejuka suddenly laughed exposing rotten teeth. “You all speak as children. How dare you decide for the gods?” He began to get up but was prevailed upon by the chiefs and elders who held him down not to storm out in anger.
“ Agabaidu !” He greeted. “You have seven days to comply.”
“Seven days?” The people screamed.
“Yes. Seven days,” Abejuka replied coolly. “Anytime after that could be very dangerous. The doom is so close. I smell it!”
Abejuka gathered his “okpele” from the ground and returned it to his bag. “I shall be where the messengers found me for the next seven days. After that, you will not find me again,” he said with a tone of finality.
The king signaled to some servants for some he goats and tubers of yam to be carried along with him. He knew the gods were not willing to go back on their decision. He summoned an emergency meeting instantly as soon as the seer was escorted out of the palace.
“This is a precarious situation,” the king said as soon as the people had taken their seats.
“I have not heard anything of this nature in all my years as a warrior,” the war general stated sighing.
“Neither have I,” said Acheneje, one of the oldest men in the kingdom and well respected.
“Nine virgins, one of whom must be the king’s beloved Inikpi. Abominable!” screamed Ocheni, one of the advisers.
The king looked confused. For a while, he seemed lost in thought, unable to find the right words.
The leader of the women whose only contribution so far has been to scream “ Ojo kiko !” got up and spoke for the first time.
“ Agabaidu !” she greeted. “This is a very delicate situation we find ourselves today. Sacrificing our children including our dear Inikpi is not a small demand to make.”
Inikpi, my own beloved Inikpi,” the king said in a weak voice. “Inikpi I love more than my own soul.”
“There is no one who does not know that, your majesty,” Ojah Ojone, the women leader said. It was clear she was holding back her tears with an effort. Deep pain was written all over everyone’s face.
After a while, no one seemed to have anything to say. The only alternative was to confront the Jukun and Benin warriors on the battle field and all of them knew that was suicidal. The Benin warriors clearly outnumbered those of the Jukun people.
Outright surrender to the adversaries was not even an option worth discussing. It will simply mean living in perpetual slavery.
It was soon decided the meeting should be adjourned to the following day so they could all weigh their options through the night.
No one slept a wink that night.
The news of the chief priest’s message spread like wildfire all over Igala land and soon reached Ogbadu’s ears.
As soon as it was nightfall, he went to the king’s palace where he was already well known.
“What brings you here tonight, Ogbadu?” The king’s chief guard asked.
“I must see the princess at once,” Ogbadu replied.
“The mood here tonight is not a happy one” the guard said.
“So it is true then,” Ogbadu stated.
“Yes it is. The oracle has made demands but the king is not under any obligation to honour it,” the guard replied.
“Please, let me see her. I promise not to stay more than five minutes. The king and queen need not know I came”.
The guard gazed intently at him for a while and agreed. “You have only five minutes,” he said and took Ogbadu through the back door.
Chapter 6
Ogbadu met Inikpi in the garden alone. Their eyes met and they ran into each other’s embrace. Ogbadu wanted to make the most of the five minutes.
“You have heard the news or haven’t you?” He asked still locked in the embrace.
“Not from my parents. Just snippets from my maids,” she replied.
“I think we should run away tonight, now. I know somewhere we could run to and no one would find us,” Ogbadu had an urgent tone in his voice.
“Run away?” Inikpi asked with an incredulous look on her face. She pulled away from his grasp.
“Don’t you care for your life? I…I…love you,” Ogbadu declared. He knew he had little time left to convince her.
Inikpi looked down shily. Ogbadu was her first love and she did not know how to handle the way her heart was beating too fast. Finally, she returned to his embrace. “I love you too, Ogbadu,” she admitted. Time suddenly seemed to stand still. Both were experiencing their first romance.
“Please, Dear One, let us run away from here—”
“For what, Ogbadu? My parents have not consented yet,” she explained.
“What makes you think they will not consent?” He was beginning to sound frantic.
When Inikpi spoke again, there were tears in her eyes.
“I love my parents very much. If they consent, I…I…will have no option but…but…to…to…consent as well,” she stated.
“Where does that leave me? Do you think I can live without you?” He asked, tears beginning to form.
“Don’t be silly, Ogbadu. You will eventually find another woman who you may even love more than me,” Inikpi consoled.
“Never! Inikpi. I will never find another woman outside you.” Ogbadu was calling her by name for the first time.
The guard arrived at this point and the duo broke the embrace.
“Goodnight, princess,” he said.
“Goodnight, Ogbadu,” Inikpi replied blushing for the umpteenth time.
That same night, the king visited Inikpi in her room together with her mother. Even though there were no tears in her eyes, they knew she had been crying.
“We must talk, my beloved Inikpi,” the king said clutching her in a tight embrace. Tears soon welled up in their eyes. The queen inclusive. She went and sat quietly on the bed sobbing softly.
“Do we really need to talk, father?” Inikpi asked.
“What do you mean, my beloved?” He replied.
“If the oracle says I should be sacrificed for us to win the war, what is there to talk about?” Inikpi repeated adding slowly “I am willing to, father.”
The queen’s silent tears soon turned into loud sobs.” Elelelele ! Ene agbami o? Who will save me, gods of our ancestors? Who will save me from this nightmare unfolding before my very eyes?” If the king had not left Inikpi to hold her, she would have thrown herself on the ground and sustained injuries. After calming her down enough, he returned to Inikpi and placed her on his lap. Tears flowed freely now.
“When the oracle told me you are my grandmother, Ojah Ologoma’s reincarnation, I never doubted it. You just re-enforced that belief because Ologoma would have done same. Only promise you will come back to me again.”
Inikpi smiled for the first time. “I promise you, father.”
A dark cloud hung over Igala land like the harmattan fog.
Soon after the meeting held earlier that day, the town crier went round announcing to all that Princess Inikpi had willingly accepted to do the bidding of the gods. The people wept; some, especially women, publicly while the men did so in their closets. Inikpi was everyone’s beloved.
People discussed nothing else but the issue.
Baba Abejuka was summoned from the exact spot he told the people he would be waiting and he responded promptly.
“ Agabaidu !” he greeted as soon as he came before the king and his council of chiefs.
“Greetings, Wise One,” the king responded. For the first time in ages, Abejuka did not attempt to bring out his “okpele” from his bag to consult with the gods. He seemed to know what was to be done.
“We must proceed instantly. I salute Princess Inikpi’s gallantry,” he stated.
“We have got eight other volunteers as well; virgins willing to join my beloved Inikpi,” the king said.
“Very well then. The issue is finally resolved,” said the chief priest. He smiled for the first time.
“I would, however, want ten slaves, prisoners of war, all of them, to accompany my daughter so they could serve her in the other world. We must not forget she is a princess,” the king stated. He was in a pensive mood.
“That will not be a problem at all,” the chief priest said. Sadness sat etched on the faces of all gathered.
“Wise One, are you sure there is no other alternative we can settle for?” It was Ojah Ojone, the women leader speaking.
“If there was, I would have told you all before now. So keep quiet ,woman and let us proceed before you incur the wrath of the gods,” Baba Abejuka warned.
None spoke after that; no one wanted to incur the wrath of the gods.
As soon as it was nightfall, Ogbadu managed to convince the royal guards to allow him see Inikpi for the last time. Considering his personal sacrifice to rescue her from the Jukun warriors earlier and the fact he truly kept his promise to see her for five minutes the last time he came, he was allowed.
“You have ten minutes,” their leader said. He sounded like someone who had been crying.
“Thank you, Akpala. May the gods reward you,” Ogbadu replied.
Ogbadu met Inikpi at their usual spot in the garden. The light burning from the different pots around the area cast shadows that looked like they were equally mourning.
“I have been expecting you,” Inikpi said running into his hands. Ogbadu did not come to try to persuade her to change her mind. He knew it would be a waste of valuable time.
“Inikpi, my beloved. Princess of the Igala people and deliverer of her people. Inikpi my Inikpi. Words fail me at this point; words fail me,” Ogbadu whispered in her ears clutching her tighter.
“Ogbadu, my love. The only one my heart yearns after on this earth. My would-have-been-husband. Weep not for me. I die for you and for all Igala people. Weep not for me,” Inikpi said. The tears were beginning to form.
“Weep for you, Inikpi? Me, Ogbadu, weep for you? I will do no such thing princess,” Ogbadu replied.
Inikpi was astonished. “How do you mean, my love?” She asked. “Promise you will tell your children about me, about us, about what would have been but for this fate that awaits me. Promise me, Ogbadu, promise me,” Inikpi urged.
“I will do no such thing, princess,” Ogbadu said defiantly. Inikpi pulled out of his embrace and stared at him in bewilderment.
“Why should I stay here and be making promises when I can simply go with you on this mission?” He questioned. Inikpi could only stare tongue tied.
“Living without you is meaningless. We shall consummate our love in wedlock in the other world,” he declared with a tone of finality.
“You shall do no such thing,” Inikpi exclaimed returning to his embrace. She was weeping softly now.
The chief guard came in at that point. Ten minutes had passed very quickly
Ogbadu left without telling Inikpi his plans.
Chapter 7
It was two days before the set day for the sacrifice of the virgins. Ogbadu knew he had to act fast or risk his plan failing.
“This plan is crazy,” Seidu, Ogbadu’s childhood friend, said. “Have you considered how your parents and siblings would feel, not to talk of us your friends?” he asked.
“Have you considered how the family and friends of the virgins, my beloved Inikpi’s included, will feel or how they would feel in that godforsaken hole?” Ogbadu thundered.
“Beware of risking the wrath of the gods,” Seidu warned.
“I have made up my mind, Seidu. If you will not help me, I am prepared to risk it alone,” Ogbadu replied.
Seidu was pensive in thought for a while.
“Okay then, you win but hope you won’t regret this?”
“My only regret would be staying here to watch my beloved Inikpi go on that journey alone,” he said with a tone of finality. Tears welled up in Seidu’s eyes.
“I shall miss you greatly,” he said and the two friends clutched each other in a tight embrace.
The duo had investigated carefully and discovered that the largest hole being dug near the bank of the Inachalo River , is where Inikpi and the slaves will be buried alive in. The king had insisted they made it as large as possible so some cooking utensils for Inikpi to cook with at the other side would be able to enter. The hole ended up being almost like a grotto.
Ogbadu played his joker on the eve of the final day.
As food was being taken to the prisoners in their cell, he and Seidu tagged along with the guard who carried the food.
“Are we all ready now?” The guard asked. Convincing him to be a part of the plot had been a herculean task.
“All is set,” Ogbadu replied. Seidu was silent.
The head of the prison did not bat an eyelid when he saw Ogbadu and Seidu go into the fenced prison compound with the guard bringing food to the prisoners. It was late in the night and the last meal the prisoners would be served before joining Inikpi on her journey, the next day.
“Good evening,” he greeted them all raising a lamp to scrutinize their faces.
“ Olane ,” Ogbadu replied.
The head of the prison did not notice that the person who came out wearing Ogbadu’s clothes was not Ogbadu but a particular slave with the same body shape as his. The swap had been done while others were eating with Ogbadu now dressed in the prisoner’s own clothes.
As soon as the guard, Seidu and the slave got about a hundred metres from the prison, the slave was asked to run as fast as his legs could carry him. He swam across the stream to Jukun land that night.
The rites for the sacrifice of Inikpi and the others started by dusk since it involved burying one virgin in each of the nine strategic borders into Igala land.
One of them was buried by the bank of the River Niger bordering Igala land with Benin kingdom, another was buried by the border with Onitsha in Iboland and yet another by the stream leading to Jukun territory and so on.
Inikpi’s was last. It took place around midnight. The slaves were first brought in with their hands tied behind their backs and their faces in hoods and sent into the grotto-like tomb and ,at exactly midnight, Inikpi was brought out, accompanied by the king who held one of her hands tightly. Servants holding torches made from firewood lighted the way for them. The moon also shone brightly overhead in all of its glory as if urging them on. Only the flutist, of all the king’s bards was allowed. He followed behind playing a sad, melancholic tune on his flute.
The queen was not allowed to accompany them since no one wanted the creation of an unwanted scene that could disrupt the rites. She cried and cried but resolved the wishes of the gods must be carried out.
Inikpi was dressed in an all white gown and she looked as beautiful as the goddess of beauty herself. The crown made of beads Ogbadu’s family gave her sat on her head gracefully. If she had been crying, there was no trace of it. She was determined to accept her faith stoically. Her father trudged beside her. It is doubtful if any father had been prouder of a daughter since the world began. The deep pain written all over his face was, however, sad to behold. It was the pain of someone about to lose something more precious to him than life itself. The chiefs and elders followed silently behind them. They dabbed their faces now and again with hand kerchiefs.
Her siblings had taken turns to hug her but even they were not allowed on the final stretch of the journey.
Even though Ogbadu could simply loose the rope tying his hands behind his back and walk away, he did no such thing. Even when they were herded into the tomb, he raised no alarm. He had opened a little hole on his hood through which he could see the things happening around him. When he saw Inikpi being carefully taken into the tomb with the crown of beads his younger sister had woven on her head, he wept silently. The other prisoners accepted their fate defiantly. None protested even slightly.
The chief priest chanted some incantations and then ordered the tomb to be covered. A lamp was kept burning inside the tomb. No one was willing to leave the revered princess in darkness for a second.
As soon as the grave was covered, Inikpi sat on the bare ground of the tomb and awaited the spirit of death.
“My dear princess,” Ogbadu whispered suddenly.
At first, Inikpi thought she was beginning to hear voices and wondered if that was one of the pranks the spirit of death played before claiming its victim and remained quiet.
“It is I, my princess,” Ogbadu said standing up from where he was and loosing the rope behind him as well as removing the hood covering his face.
“How dare you do this?” Inikpi screamed running into his hands. “How dare you?” The tears flowed from both of their faces at this stage. They both knew there was no going back. The deed was done.
When the spirit of death came to take their souls away across the River of Life to the land of the dead, he met them lying beside each other, holding hands. He took their souls tenderly and took them to the other world, respect written all over his face.
A heavy rain accompanied by thunder and lightening fell in Idah that day. It was as if the gods were acknowledging the enormous sacrifice they had made.
A seven days mourning period was declared in Igala land by the king in which no one was expected to go to the farm or the market. Indeed, the people complied, stayed at home and cried.
As the Igala people were performing their sacrifice and mourning their dead, the Jukun warriors were busy practicing. They spent all day fighting among themselves careful not to hurt one another. Food and medicine was in abundant supply as the king ensured these were adequately taken care of from state resources and tributes from vassal territories.
In the evening hours, the warriors gathered and were entertained by such masquerades as the Ukpokwu , Ekwe , Obadajaka , Agbanabo , Inelekpe etc. It was assumed defeating the Igala people was something of a mere formality. The preparations was just to ensure they dealt with them in a way that will send jitters down the spine of any of the vassal territories that will attempt to rebel against Jukun authority in the future.
The date of the attack was soon announced.
“I will use the Igala people as a scapegoat to convey a message to vassal territories that will attempt to challenge the Aku-Uka in future,” King Torkula boasted in a council of states’ meeting.
In Benin kingdom too, Oba Ewuare wanted to be proactive in dealing with the Igala people. From the information the sentries were bringing, the Igala people were planning to take Benin empire by surprise and totally destroy it.
He summoned an emergency meeting and a date was fixed for the operation that will totally bring Igala land to her knees.
“I will teach Attah Igala what surprise attack is,” he told his council smiling mischievously.
Efosa heard about it and laughed mirthlessly.
For three days and nights, Ogbadu’s family searched for him. They knew he could not have gone hunting since the king had declared a one week mourning period. On the fourth day, however, they organized a search party to look for him in the forest, with the king’s permission, with fears he may have harmed himself.
Seidu wept and was inconsolable. He did not know how to break the news of Ogbadu’s action to his family especially as he promised Ogbadu, along with the guard, not to break the news to his family for, at least, three days after the sacrifice.
Chapter 8
For three days, Seidu refused to eat or drink anything. His parents were on the verge of seeking external assistance when he suddenly told his mother what he was hiding.
” Elelelele !” she screamed before throwing herself on the ground and rolling from one end of the room to the other, attracting neighbours.
“I tried dissuading him to no avail,” Seidu said amidst sobbing. The neighbours could hardly believe what they were hearing. Igala land had not only lost a loving princess but also one of her most promising youths. More tears flowed and soon, the news got to the king and Ogbadu’s family.
“The gods forbid!” the king screamed when he heard it and Seidu was sent for instantly. He went in the company of his father and mother who was still screaming.
They met Ogbadu’s family waiting with the king when they arrived.
Seidu repeated the news still sobbing and Ogbadu’s mother fainted. She was rushed to the house of the king’s physician before she regained consciousness.
The king promptly sent for Baba Abejuka and, fortunately, he was discovered at the same spot by the River Niger.
“Tell the king it is not yet time for me to see him. When it is time, I will come,” he told the messengers adding quickly “Ogbadu’s sad involvement has not spoilt the sacrifice. In fact, it has been accepted by the gods.”
The messengers rushed back to deliver the message to the king relieved by the latter part of it.
The king refused to eat anything all through that day. The gloom over the land increased tremendously.
Some servants were mobilized to Inikpi’s tomb and they returned with news that it was the way they left it.
That night, Inikpi appeared to her father in a dream beautifully arrayed with Ogbadu by her side also gaily dressed. They looked like husband and wife prepared to attend an important function.
“Inikpi my beloved daughter, welcome back home. Ogbadu, you two come into my arms,” the king pleaded stretching out his arms to embrace them.
“You cannot touch me father”, Inikpi said with Ogbadu smiling broadly.” We are all in a better place. Please listen attentively to what I have to say.”
She went on to tell the king what to do and made him recite a particular incantation three times to ensure he did not forget.
Attah Ayegba woke up and broke into tears. The dream had been so real. He immediately recited the incantation he received and as soon as the first cock crowed, he sent for Baba Abejuka.
The chief priest got to the palace by the first light of dawn to meet the king and his council of chiefs already waiting.
The king repeated the incantation he was given and the priest could not hide his excitement.
“Do you remember the leaves she mentioned?” He asked feverishly.
“How could you have known that?” The king asked surprised but went on to mention them all the same. They were seven in number.
“Good. We must proceed at once to get them,” Abejuka said heading for the door.
The king and his council of chiefs and guards followed the chief priest who moved with surprising agility for his age at a respectable distance. It is not as if anyone knew his age though.
Abejuka proceeded to pick seven pieces of each of the revealed leaves from the forest they had entered and dropped them in his bag. It took a little over two hours to get them all. Even the king did not know all of them. He simply mentioned their names and the priest searched them out.
At midnight, the same crowd moved to the bank of the Inachalo River and, after reciting the incantation three times, on Abejuka’s instruction, the leaves were all poured into it.
“We can all go home now,” the chief priest said and disappeared into the night.
In Jukun land, the Aku-Uka gave the signal for the warriors to proceed.
“Enough of training, my people. Now advance and teach those bastards how we Jukuns treat rebellious slaves and vassal territories,” he spat biting off every word. “Spare none, my gallant warriors. Not one soul!”
As swift as the wind, the warriors on horseback moved first heading for the banks of the Inachalo River. They were given supplies for a week only.
“Feed from the spoils of war of the Igala people or starve,” the king told them. The nine masquerades of the Jukun people and their entourage followed next. The people anticipated a cheap victory and felt they would be needing entertainment as soon as possible. The foot soldiers in their number followed last.
In Benin kingdom, Oba Ewuare just finished fortifying his warriors. The witch doctors in charge assured the soldiers no weapon can penetrate their skin. It included a ritual where the soldiers moved around a bonfire several times by midnight stark naked. The exercise lasted a week due to the number of warriors on ground.
As soon as the exercise was over, the war general gave the command and the men, in their number, advanced and camped by the banks of the River Niger.
Efosa’s anger was beginning to be pacified.
In spite of their supplies the Benin warriors still drank water and had their baths from the water of the River Niger and occasionally caught and roasted the fishes from it.
The same applied to the Jukun warriors; they equally drank, had their baths from the waters of Inachalo River. The large sea food in it also excited their palates from time to time.
This was to lead to their downfall.
Following the incantations made on the Inachalo River on the instruction of Inikpi’s ghost by the priest and king of Igala land, the waters surrounding Igala land became poison to their adversaries.
The story of the littering of corpses along the banks of the Niger and Inachalo Rivers, is still spoken of in Igala land and environs till date.
Out of the about twenty thousand warriors in both camps, less than five hundred returned home alive.
When Igala warriors finally believed their spies and reluctantly crossed over to see things for themselves at the different camps, corpses spreading for kilometres could be seen and it took one week to fully transport the spoils of war from these camps into Igala land.
Among the spoils of war taken from the Jukun side are the different masquerades which still exist in Igala land till date. Not many know their origin is Jukun land.
Celebration followed in Igala land almost instantly. For a full week, no one went to farm or to the market; it was feasting from one house to the other, singing and dancing.
Delicacies such as “ oje ushu ” were served with “ obo igogo ” or “ oro okohio ” garnished with goat meat and “ eja egbe .”
A week later, the Attah summoned a meeting where he announced the immortalization of Inikpi, Ogbadu and the eight other virgins. Indeed, their statue, where they are holding hands, is still by the banks of the Inachalo River, on the very spot they were buried, till date and it is a popular tourist attraction in Igala land.
All favourite daughters in the area are also called Inikpi till date while Ogbadu is reserved for favourite sons.
