KINSMEN ARE SUPREME

"Ugomma sit down! Listen to your husband for once," Ụwakwe prevailed on his wife as she sat impatiently beside him. They sat in front of their hut on a wooden bench supported at both ends with bamboo sticks planted in the red earth. Ụwakwe cleared his throat many times in his habitual earnestness and then began to speak to his agitated wife.

"I have observed that since our first son, Nwaigwe, left for the city that he has not done anything about my discussion with him the last time he visited the village." He paused to allow his wife to speak but she said nothing.

"Are you deaf, woman?"

"I was getting set to go to the mission to see Fada before you summoned me. He wants me to organise the women for the mission's thanksgiving," Ugomma said, avoiding her husband's stern look.

"Does it not bother you that our son has refused to look the way of another maiden since Akụerika's daughter, Ulimma, turned down his proposal?" It bothered Uwakwe that Ugomma was unperturbed by his worry.

"Nnaanyi that can wait. Fada will be waiting for me by now and I do not want to keep him waiting for long. It is a big sin."

As she walked out to see Father Jones, Ụwakwe shook his head in disbelief. He wondered why Ugomma had changed so much since she started going to the mission and why the white priest had to, of all the women in the church, choose his wife to organise the women. "Does this white man they call Fada teach them to disobey their husbands? Ugomma has never been an easygoing woman but she has grown much worse recently."

Ụwakwe was out of patience with his son. He went to discuss the problem with Ibeku, who was in his obi when he got to his house. He felt no need for any of their usual pleasantries and immediately started with what troubled him.

"Because he gives me money from time to time, that son of mine thinks he can live as he wishes. And in this land, I have not seen a woman like Ugomma who is more concerned about Fada and his church than the situation of her family."

He was lamenting to a silent Ibeku, lost in deep thought. When he did speak, his manner was pointed.

"Leave your wife out of this matter and speak like a man for once. You, your wife, and your son are not serious. Maybe the money your son gives you and your wife has shut your mouths. He cannot shut the mouths of his kinsmen. That son of yours does not think or live like us. But he is one of us and we, the Ọdụeze kindred, will not allow him take us for granted.

"I will see Ukegbe on this matter immediately. But first, you must send a message to your son wherever he is. Tell him that his ụmụnna have summoned him. He must return to his people at once because we have questions for him. If he answers them to our satisfaction, he will be allowed to live as he wishes."

Ibeku rose from his seat, "I am going to the farm. When you are done here, let my wife or son know so they shut the entrance to my obi. Too much learning is not good." The last words he said while walking out.

The urgency conveyed in the message Ụwakwe sent to his son made Nwaigwe restless. He could not afford to wait long before making preparations to return home to his people.

"Two market days to come home and listen to your ụmụnna," an unsettled Nwaigwe muttered repeatedly to himself.

He grew up in Amaokwe and knew the implications of ignoring such a summons. He also knew the consequences of his failure to return within the period stated in the message.

The Ọdụeze kindred were the foremen of tradition in Amaokwe. They were respected and feared by the rest of the clan. If they summoned one of their sons, he had to appear before them. If he failed to answer the call, the chief priest of Itu could be approached to seek the help of the dreadful deity to bring him home. Their son knew these things and was not prepared to be compelled in that manner.

Nwaigwe informed his employer that something bad had happened at home which required his immediate presence. A few days later, he returned home to a cold reception by his father. Ụwakwe was determined to bend his son's resolve, and that included being aloof to his occasional presence which he had truly missed.

"Where is my mother?"

"Where else would your stubborn mother be if not Fada's house or his church?"

"What is it, Papa? Did something bad happen?"

"You ask too many questions. I am your father but you belong as well to the kindred. The message was sent by our ụmụnna. Be patient until you meet them."

Ụwakwe left his home shortly after his son's return to inform his eldest kinsman, Ukegbe, that his son had responded to the summons. The old man reassured Ụwakwe that the matter was not beyond the kindred to handle and all would be well.

Nwaigwe had a long and rough journey from the city the previous day and was still tired the following morning. He was yet asleep when he was sent for. A small crowd had gathered in the middle of his father's compound early that morning and each came prepared as they were unanimous in their intent.

"Ụwakwe!" Ibeku called.

"Ichie Ibeku," Ụwakwe answered.

"I heard your son is back. Is that so?"

"He is also our son and that is why we are here to speak some sense into his head," a few other voices from the group added.

"Ichie Ibeku, our son is back. He is my son and he is your son too," Ụwakwe answered.

"Then send for him," Ukegbe ordered.

The looks on the faces he saw sent a strong message to Nwaigwe. He greeted his kinsmen with a slight tremor in his voice.

"Ọdụeze! Udo dịrị unu o!"

Only a few men in the group answered his greeting. After a pause, Ukegbe spoke up.

"Your kinsmen sent for you because we want to know some things concerning you."

"Nnaanyi I am here. I have returned to my people as requested." Nwaigwe knew it was tactful to be polite in such a meeting.

"Our people say that a child is not expected to be crawling while his mates are flying. We do not understand why your own case should be different. Most of your mates are flying, some are running, but you have remained a crawling toddler. What exactly is your problem? If you offended Ani, tell us when, where, and how so we can appease her on your behalf," Ukegbe said.

Nwaigwe looked on confused, staring at the group until a man younger than him in the gathering grew impatient with his lack of answers.

"Look, we did not abandon all we had to do to come here and look at your face. You better tell us here and now what exactly your problem is. Even if we had nothing else to do this morning, at least a visit to our farms would be a better option than this joke." The young man who spoke was Okwudili.

"How can a fully grown man in his right head refuse to marry and bear children at your age? Okwudili here has three sons. Are you not older than him? The people of your age grade are all married. Some with up to five children. Some are married to two or more wives already. Ibekwe's son, Udoka, has two wives and six children. He lives with one of his wives, Nwamma, in the city. Is it that your blade is not well sharpened or that you are a bad barber? If you are no longer a man down there, tell us now so that we can begin to look for the black goat while it is still daytime," Ibeku said.

"Elders please! My kinsmen, it is not that I do not wish to marry but marriage is not meant for two strangers and . . ."

"Shut up, young man," Ibeku rose and would not allow Nwaigwe finish what he was saying. "You think you are wise but you are obviously foolish. Who told you that Ụwakwe, your father, and Ugomma, your mother, were known to each other before marriage? They were two strangers before they married and that union gave you life. I said it that the way of the white man is a tragedy to us and any man that is deceived by it is not wise. Ụwakwe, your son here has been misled," Ibeku shook his head as he took his seat again.

It was time for the Ọdụeze kindred to state their resolution to Nwaigwe whom they believed had lost his way. Ukegbe rose to the occasion as the eldest and everyone paid rapt attention.

"Listen very well, our son. This bird feather in my right hand is an indication that if you fail to heed to our message today, you will have no one but yourself to blame. Take it and clean your ears so that you can hear me clearly," he attempted to give the feather to Nwaigwe who declined and urged him to speak on.

"Nnaanyi, I am listening," he said.

"If you like, travel to the land of the white man, learn all of his ways and speak as though you are one with him. But as our son, you cannot be above our order. We are your ụmụnna and we have given you eight market days, izu asatọ, beginning from this Eke, within which you are to take a wife or face sanctions."

Such was the finality of Ukegbe's decree that everyone, including his own father, deserted Nwaigwe so that he alone could use his tongue to count his teeth.