EJIMA

CHAPTER 19

Thick bamboo fences separated the King's compound from the rest of the village. As usual, the urine fustiness trimmed the outer court, bringing back the image of the decayed deer Jide had seen some months back. Old women of different sizes and shapes promenaded to and fro, with royal animal skin, lining their waist, leaving their breasts to flap from side to side like a banana leaf. They were chatting the morning away, obviously unaffected by the stench looming on every corner. Jide has never seen so many old people clustering in one place before. That must be the reason for the stink. Perhaps they rarely bathe or wash. Or was it unanimous with old people? Well, if growing old means smelling like an abandoned cloth that was soaked in a smog of wasted garbage, then Jide prefers to remain a kid forever. He would rather smell like butter every day and remain a kid than have gray hairs and folded skins with flies as a company.

“This way,” Maduka said. Taking the lead.

Jide hurried behind, not willing to leave his father’s side. If he had his way, he would drag all these women to the stream and have their bathe with sand and gravel until those creases on their skin straightened out like that of a newborn baby.

They walked away from the courtyard, into the King’s garden, and into a hallway, large enough to accommodate five people abreast. The walls were made of red earth, designed with delicate white patterns, an ostentation of wealth and prestige. Some women greeted them and walked past and Jide couldn’t help but smile. Unlike those smelling rags on the courtyard, these damsels were beautiful and had air so sweet it could cause a tingling sensation at the back of the head. If such beauty exists, what were those old women doing in the courtyard?

“These are for the Kings,” Maduka said as if reading Jide’s thoughts. “They are meant to be cleaned up and ready for presentation.” 

It took some time for Jide to connect his father’s words. The way he had said it, it was as if the women were some kind of property or trophy, meant to be hung on the wall for exhibition.

“What about those women in the courtyard?" Jide rubbed his nose as if the thought of them brought back the fetor.

“They are no longer needed by the King or by the Kingdom. They work in his royal farm now, but their place beside the King has exceeded its limit.”

“Because they are old?” Jide shook his head. If the women were not smelling bad, perhaps he would have had compassion for them.

“Part of it.” Maduka shrugged. “They are not needed any longer. Just see it as an old cloth which one has to put away when they become weak and worn out.”

“Old and worn out?” Jide laughed. “If that’s the case, then I think the King should be sitting among those women. He is twice as old as my father.”

“I am your father Jide. Stop talking as if I am not here.”

“Oh, sorry Papa. Just that everything about adulthood is just so confusing and varied that sometimes I feel my head swirling like a kite. Speaking about old and worn out, why is it that the queen is not among those women. The last time I checked, she could barely move a muscle without a walking stick”

Maduka grunted. Jide could not explain, but it was as if his father was a bit irritated. Maybe the smell had gotten into him too.

“The King and Queen are just old. They are not worn out yet.”

“Oh. That explains the fact.” Jide nodded as understanding seemed to flood his being.

They rounded another bend in silence and was presented by an oak door that demarcated the inner court from the courtyard. Jide has a vague image of this place. He has been here before, perhaps when he was very little. He couldn’t tell for sure.

“Papa,”

“Yes, son,” Maduka responded without looking down.

“Are you and mama old and worn out?”

“Jide!!” Maduka yelled, not able to control his anger.

“Yes, Papa.” Jide jumped back when he saw the anger in his father’s eyes. 

Maduka took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the anger was all gone. It was replaced now with a fatherly kindness that Jide was more acquainted with.

“You are talking too much again. Have you forgotten what I told you? Too much talk will make you remain a kid forever.”

“But Papa.” Jide shrugged, “After seeing those women in the courtyard, I don’t think I want to grow old. Old people tend to become worn out. I don’t want to be like that.”

“No my son,” Maduka rested his hands on Jide’s shoulders. “You must desire adulthood. There are many things to uncover, so many adventures. And remember, not every adult who grows old becomes worn out. Just like your mother and me. We have grown old but not worn out.”

“But how can that be?” 

“Oh, it’s easy. We have the greatest power in the universe, and that’s love. Love binds us together,”

“Hmm, I see,” Jide nodded. “It makes sense. So, while those women in the courtyard have no love, the King had maintained his binding force with the queen. That’s why the king and queen are old but not worn out.”

“Emm…” Maduka cleared his throat as if in deep thought but he suddenly smiled, “Exactly son. Oke amamihe agaghi egbu gi (excessive wisdom will not kill you). But you should desire adulthood.”

“Yes, Papa. You just gave me a reason to. Since I can become old but not worn out, then why not? All I need to do now is find love. The binding force.”

Maduka sighed and slapped his face. Was he tired? Jide could not say for sure. There was no patch of sleepless night or anything to suggest where the uneasiness was coming from.

“Just remember everything I told you to say,” The older man turned, “We have only one shot at this. Try not to ruin it.”

“I will try, Papa,” Jide said and hurried after his father.

There were two guards standing side by side with long spears and shields. Each of them had the white hands of the King, emblazoned on their watermelon-sized chest. The frown on their face also suggested that they had not left their standing post all their lives. They probably have not tasted battle. They looked too important to have.

Jide raised his chest and mimicked the pose of his father. Even though he had not been to war, he wouldn’t mind tapping the aura of importance from his father who has been to battles a countless times.

"Osu (Outcast)," the guard at the right said "you have no business among the people. Depart now or..."

“Friend of the throne,” the other guard said when he recognized Maduka. He lowered his spear and nodded to the other. “The King got your message and is waiting for you inside,”

“Good,” Maduka said and walked into the room. If he was offended by being called an outcast, he didn't show. Jide however was fumming. 

Why would his father keep quiet?