Faith and encounters

Obidike reached for the kola nuts in his goatskin bag as he had done every morning. He walked out of his obi with the leisurely gait of someone just getting out of bed, towards an ancient stone in the middle of his compound, where, as a young man, he'd watched his father, Agaba, pray to the gods for their blessings and protection in the same manner he was about to.

"Gods of my ancestors, goddess of the seven streams and seven rivers of Amaokwe, hear me. May Eke bring us favour. May Orie bring worthy suitors for all the daughters in my household who are ripe for marriage. May Afọ come with wealth and good harvest. May Nkwọ bring your protection for me, my four wives and eleven children. If any man says my head or that of any member of my family should fall, may his own and that of his household fall in our stead."

"Ise!"

Obidike turned from his supplications to find his first son, Obieze, seated beside him. The young man had quietly taken his place by Obidike as he had done every morning; learning in turn from his father, how to pray to the gods.

But this morning, trouble called as Obidike, returning to his Obi, walked into his third wife's hut to find her clutching a strange statue while mumbling a prayer he never heard before: "Hail Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death." Nkwachi had learnt to pray the rosary after attending the Catholic Mission in the neighbouring Ụkwa, for four market days or so. She and a few other converts were told by the priest, Father Jones, to repent from all forms of idolatry and Nkwachi was beginning to see her husband of over fifteen harvests as an unbeliever. She was the curious type and her husband abhorred that part of her. She had found her way to salvation in her new faith and hoped to pray her children, Ụna and Iruka out of the heathen faith.

"Ere! The moment I took Obidiya as fourth wife, I knew that you would invite the wrath of the gods to punish me. I was told by Okwerike four harvests ago that one of my wives was evil and, if care was not taken, would bring the anger of the gods and of my ancestors upon me and my family." He ran into his obi, dashed out almost immediately with a cutlass and chased Nkwachi far out of the homestead.

Obidike's fury was such that in that instant he had forgotten what day it was. It was Eke, the market day. He returned shortly to his obi and like a man hastening to abort imminent calamity, Obidike reached for his goatskin bag, this time to fetch a fresh kola nut. From the keg of palm-wine he had bought from Ojimba earlier that morning, he poured into his drinking gourd and headed straight to his mbaraezi. He splattered the wine upon the stone as libation to his ancestors and gods and broke the kola nut into parts after saying prayers of remission for the sin his wife had committed. The look on his face was that of a man who was remorseful for marrying a foolish woman – a woman who had offended the gods and disobeyed her husband. He threw a piece of kola nut to the gods and begged their pardon for this mistake before he ambled back to his obi.

Nkwachi had been going secretly to the mission. She had been lured there by her friend, Ugomma. Ugomma's husband, Ụwakwe, had no issues with the new faith. Unlike Obidike, Ụwakwe was tolerant of many things his wife did. Many believed he was under his wife's spell and his wife could do no wrong in his eyes because of this. Others, like Obidike, thought him a weakling and called him a woman. Ụwakwe had seen Father Jones' church as a convenient forum – an avenue to break away from his people's wealth-adoring culture. He wondered why his people spoke of men who were not wealthy – with many wives, yams and herds – as though they were lesser mortals. He had one wife, a barn with a few yams in it, and no titles. He also farmed water yam and cassava and those were believed to be women's crops. He tried to take the Nze title a harvest before but was denied it.

Obidike had risen before everyone to protest. "Igwe! May you live forever! May your reign last forever and may the land of Amaokwe continue to prosper under your rulership! May your reign be peaceful as it pleases the gods of our land. To our sister kingdoms who want to live with us in peace, we offer peace in return and to those who covet our women and farmlands, we shall teach them that Amaokwe is not a land peopled by cowards. We have the finest warriors in this clan."

"Igwe. Elders of Amaokwe," he continued, "The Nze title is not meant for women. Ụwakwe here has planted and harvested more cassava, water and coco yams than anyone else in this gathering, and we know that a man like him is unfit for this title. Besides, he has just one wife and a house as small as a coop. He does not farm yam like other men of Amaokwe and does not sit long in any gathering with fellow men but runs home to gossip with Ugomma his wife. He is not fit for the Nze title at all."

Ibekwe, who took the same title two harvests before, agreed with Obidike. "How can such a man keep secrets? Nze title holders share many secrets amongst them like men." No one present supported Ụwakwe. Not even Ibeku his friend. Everyone who spoke pointed to his lack of manliness and agreed that Ụwakwe was a woman trapped in a man's body. Two other men were favourites for the title and most of the elders were in agreement that they were more deserving. They were honoured with the Nze title on that Nkwọ day. Ikeogu, one of the greatest warriors in Amaokwe was one of the beneficiaries. Nzekwe, a renowned hunter, was the other. Other titled men joined them in their respective homes to celebrate.