EJIMA

CHAPTER 45

Ugomma swam through the bodies and screams of the people who kept jumping and calling out to the eleven gods. The ceremony had eaten deep into the evening, breaking the sadness that kept meddling with her soul. Nothing will remain the same, even though the happiness on the faces of these people seemed to keep the fear at bay. She knows deep down that the world would change after today. It was politics like her father would say. This was the last blow that would give the heated iron its shape. The king had pried with the affairs of the people; he had stretched his hands into a furnace and only time will tell if he will get burnt or not.

Rubbing off the smell of sweat, Ugomma shouldered past some group of men who were drinking away what was left of the evening. They seemed not to care, even though her struggle had spluttered the wine on their clay mug. She didn't care either, her eyes just kept track of the red and white animal skin, bouncing back and forth on the princess's shoulders. With the number of people here, she wouldn't want to lose track of the princess again. The last three attempts to find the princess had been way difficult for her. And with the direction everything was going, it's just a matter of time before a civil war breaks out. She needed to act fast. She needed to save Jide before the people revolted.

Ugomma finally broke away from the people and hurried into the forest, following behind the princess who sat proudly on her ostrich. The evening shadows gave the forest a darker and lonely feel and the hoots of the owls were beginning to flurry those of the wolf. If one had not seen the heat earlier, the chill air in the forest would have been convincing that harmattan or perhaps the rainy season was dwindling. Satisfactory enough, the metaphor was a song of the soul. For someone who had lost everything in the world, Ugomma could not help the sadness. How would Jide feel if she broke the news of his mother to him?

She wiped the tears and increased her pace.

Adaku had disappeared into the narrow path. Only one servant was with her and while she seemed to know where she was going, the female servant was the one that took the lead. It was a cordial walk, nothing formal, not even confetti as the culture of the people had proposed.

Ugomma slowed and surveyed the princess and her servant from a distance. They seemed to be having some kind of conversation, but Ugomma was too broken to care. Her heart was soiled with sorrow and pain over what had happened in the procession. If only she knew what to do. She was just the child of a politician who happens to hate the family of her best friend. Her place in society was rather friable, but that doesn't mean she would cuddle up like a ball and watch the world fade away. She was tired of waiting. The least she could do was to save Jide from jail. It was the only reasonable thing she could do at the moment.

"My princess!" Ugomma called as she trotted towards the girl who was the same height and age as her, but a few months younger.

Adaku and her servant turned sharply at the sound of her voice, and the way their eyes parted and dilated, made Ugomma realize how badly the princess wanted to get away from the crowd. Ugomma was not surprised. She hated crowds too and not one where the mother of her best friend was being roasted alive.

"This is not a good time for a friendship reunion," Adaku muttered and she slid down from the ostrich.

"That's not the reason I am here," Ugomma said, "There is something I need to tell you."

"Not today, Ugo." Adaku breathed in as if suddenly tired, "For old time sake, please let's do this some other time. My body system is too broken to listen to an apology."

"Apology? What is there to apologize for?"

"Oh," Adaku's brow elevated, "You've forgotten how you virtually set me on fire? Anyway, I am not bringing you back to my maiden's court. I have a new stylist now. Just go. I will summon you later when I want a girl's chat."

"Please hear me out," Ugomma walked closer, but her eyes were settled on the princess's servant, who had her back turned to them all this while.

"Get on with it," The princess said, "And my servant will stay with me. He is not going anywhere."

"Alright I will do...Wait, did you say he?" Ugomma averted her eyes from the servant.

"No...I mean, she," The princess stammered, "she...she. She is not going anywhere."

"Oh," Ugomma swallowed and rubbed her palms on her skirt. Until that moment, she has forgotten how much talking with the princess on pressing issues made her sweat. "I have a friend in your father's net. Please, help me free him. For old-time sake, I beg you."

"You mean, Jide is your friend?"

The question was rather blunt and Ugomma had to struggle with it for a while. She shifted her weight to the other feet but did not meet the intelligent bright eyes. How had the princess known Jide's name? Was it because of his notorious behavior or was Adaku trying to pin her to the wall?

"Hmm, Ada. Will your father hang my head on a spike if I say yes?"

"That's an expensive joke." Adaku snared as if warning the girl to know her limit. "Your friend is free." She said and walked back to her Ostrich, "I disguised him as a servant to aid his escape. But after what happened in the procession, he had vowed to remain in the village until he avenges his family's death. He had even refused to listen to reasons. Perhaps, you can talk some sense into his woody head."

Ugomma's stomach knotted as she studied Jide's sagging shoulders. His dark hair was longer than the last time she had seen him. The servant's clothes also dangled with the gentle wind, but they seemed to magnify the feminine nature of the boy. If indeed he was a girl, Ugomma would have been jealous of his beauty and well-framed structure. Even as she walked towards him, the vacuum of sadness seemed to envelop her and one question kept chiming in her head. How did your beautiful life get so messy?

Speaking was difficult, even if she wanted to, what would she say? Should she begin by telling him a story or by garnishing words and hoping they would make him feel better?

She breathed out and sat down on the dust, abreast of his towering features. The weight of the world was almost crashing on her, but this was not about her. This was about a hurting friend, the best among equals.

Jide remained silent, but as if reading the unaided writing on the wind, he sat down on the floor, taking Ugomma's hand as if they were the solace he craved for.

Their heads met somewhere between the small space separating them and for the first time that day, Ugomma let out the anguish as she and Jide wept for the lives that were lost, all because of money, prestige, and tradition.