Millipede Chasing - Part 8

MILLIPEDE CHASING

This story is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

PART EIGHT

Umungwa was a small village which was divided into several smaller dispersed compounds. Each compound was home to the descendants of one man. The village was located just 2 miles from the busy Aba town. Most of the houses have been rebuilt in support of the C19th modern globalization that swept across Africa. Here and there, there were still a few older houses built with clay soil, with roofs made expertly from bamboo tree. Most of the houses were bungalows, decorated beautifully with beds of flowers which served as front yard fences. It was customary to sweep out the sandy compound every morning with grass brooms. The Igbos were famous for their cleanliness and tidiness.

Today, in from one of these compounds belonging to the Onyebuchi’s descendants, one of the daughters was to be married. The groom and his people have come from another Igbo state. In the bride’s compound, under the shade of one of six canopies spread out, they sat opposite from the bride’s family. They were seated at a big table covered with assorted wines, soft drinks and palm wine. There was also a myriad of kolanut, groundnut, garden eggs and black pepper. Patiently they waited to take the new bride with them, having performed all traditional rites so that she could be handed over to her husband’s people.

A loud drum sound broke the silence as the bride sudden emerged from the house, followed by her seven bridesmaids, all dressed in traditional uniform for this special occasion. She wore a traditional golden strapless top and her long red skirt boasted shiny golden embroidery that complimented her shape and her red head tie. On her feet the bride wore golden high heels to match her glittering golden top. Her beautiful traditional wedding wear was completed with a heavy red traditional braided necklace around her neck and bangles adorning both her wrists. Her beauty amazed the guests and with a glint their eyes the boys stared at the breathtaking bride.

“One day my wife is going to be just as beautiful as her,” said ten-year-old Solomon, the tallest and thinnest of the orphanage boys, who stood beside Okafor and Emenanjo. Both of them looked at him and started laughing hysterically.

“What woman would want to marry a lizard like you?” Okafor cackled, looking up at Solomon. Suddenly Solomon got upset. He swiftly grabbed Okafor’s feet and hands and without effort he threw him to the ground. But Okafor was too weak to fight and could not wrestle him, thus getting pummeled. The two rumbled on the ground. Solomon punched Okafor on his cheek so hard that a red bruise appeared and in return Okafor bit Solomon on his right thigh. Quickly the other boys and Emenanjo intervened, prying the two fighting boys from one another. It was a very disrespectful thing to be fighting at a wedding. Had they been noticed by the celebrant’s families they would promptly have been thrown out.

“Let the hawk perch, let the eagle perch, and if one tells the other not to perch, may his wing break,” said the eldest man from the bride’s compound as he blessed the kolanut before breaking it into pieces. Stately, he ate of it and then shared the rest with the bride and groom’s father and the eldest from the groom’s compound. The boys watched the bride carrying a wooden cup filled with blessed palm wine and searching for her husband-to-be among the sea of men trying to take the wine from her. Eventually she found her groom and she knelt down before him. He took the wine from her and drank from it before he allowed his bride to drink from it.

“That’s it! They are now husband and wife. In nine months we’ll come back for their baby’s party,” Okafor said, rubbing his hands on his cheek. He could still feel the pain from the punch, but this did not stop him from rocking his head from side to side. With great cheer he was shaking his bottom to the music that was playing to celebrate the life of the new mister and missus. Emenanjo also started dancing to the traditional wedding song.

“I heard that the groom lives in Lagos. If they have a baby, the party would be in Lagos. So, how will you be getting to Lagos, then?” said one of the boys dancing with them.

“Oh, that will be no problem. We’ll just use Madam’s bicycle to get there,” Okafor teased the boy, knowing very well that Lagos was more than a hundred miles away from Aba. The boy looked at him with befuddlement at first and laughed heartily at his joke.

At long last the special occasion all the boys have been waiting for arrived – the launching of the mothering foods.

“Yes! Yes!” they all exclaimed with their mouths wide open like baby crocodiles when offered by the ladies ushering plates of jollof rice with fried cow meat to everyone. In less than five minutes the boys have devoured all the food they got and still they wanted more. This time, they got even more than what they expected.

“Do you want some Isi Ewu (goat’s head) pepper soup?” the smiling women asked the boys. “Yes! Yes!” they all begged happily with mouths wide agape like hippopotami. Another five minutes later all the food were already settled in the lucky boys’ stomachs.

“Do you boys want to eat pounded yam and Ukazi soup?” the women asked them again.

“Yes! Yes!” they all replied again with their mouths wide open like whales. The last food had taken them some more time to finish and their tummies appeared to stretch out under their shirts, but the boys were too greedy to leave their plates empty.

“Do you boys want to have some Fanta and Coke to drink?” the women came back to ask the boys, who were by now struggling to breathe from the delectable feast they had just had. “Yes! Yes!” they all replied a bit slower and with less zest than before, wondering if they had space left in their tummies to accommodate the drinks as well. And yet they quenched their thirst in just one minute. Bravo to the boys!

By 9 p.m., night had fallen already and it was dark outside. Guests had begun to leave the party one by one and the boys decided to call it a day. But from behind them they suddenly heard the bride’s mother calling them, “Where do you boys think you are going?” They froze in their tracks, wondering if they were in trouble. “I heard you boys are from the orphanage, is that true?” she asked them.

“Yes ma!” the boys turned around. They were caught by pleasant surprise that the bride’s mother knew about them.

“Then come and pack some food and drinks to last you for a few days,” the bride’s mother invited them with a gleeful smile. Again the boys were surprised to hear such sweet music to their ears. They were certainly in heaven today. Before, they had overheard people saying that villagers were friendlier than township people.

“Thank you ma!”

“God bless you!”

“Your daughter will bear beautiful children!” said some of the boys politely, appreciating all the kindness. The lady thanked them for coming and she told the women in charge of the food to generously give the boys food and drinks to take home. It was a splendid and happy day indeed.