THE RISING SUN

Chapter ONE

THE WHITE RAM

The heavy rains fell furiously, splattering the mud underneath. After seasons of drought, the rains were the perfect cleansing the lands yearned. As the sky dripped in tears; the people of Anioma were jubilant that the gods had at last heeded to the incantations of the Uhammiri diviners assembled from the rising sun in the east of the Aro, to the southern lands of the Omambala. 

When the thunder struck in fury, the skies reflected the image of the white ram; a symbol of the greatest of all gods in the Igbo land; Amadioha; the god of thunder and lightning. He, whose wrath set ablaze villages and all its inhabitants. The god of justice and vengeance.

The thunder struck again, the sky reverberating to the angst of Amadioha. The thunder reflected the voice of the symbolic white ram crying to the people in the hinterlands to abstain from the wrath of her master.

Beneath the dancing moon in the clouds, a young woman lay screaming back at the thunder. Eke could feel the blood draining from her thighs. She could feel the pain lurching inside of her like a spear had been driven into her chest. As much as she cried…as much as she groaned in so much pain, the child would not leave the comfort of her belly. Maybe, the child was not ready to come into the world just yet. The diviners had promised her that she would have a safe delivery. She would give birth to a son of the soil who would be a proud son of Anioma. But, this lump of pain on her throat reflected an irony of the diviner’s words.

Mama Orie, as referred by everyone in Anioma because of her magical hands in bringing forth children to the world urged Eke to be resilient. Once, Mama Orie had to enter into the lands of the spirits to bring back a child to the thighs of her mother, after she had been held back by the Ogbanjes.

“The lioness is the fiercest of all animals in the jungle. You must be fierce!” Mama Orie hurled at Eke, her voice towering the shrieks in the hut.
Eke felt the pain again. She pushed harder than she had ever done before, but the child still wouldn’t leave the comfort of her thighs.

Mama Orie placed her magical hands on her thighs softly. Somehow, it made the contraction release slowly.

“Nwadiala! Nwa Amadi!” Mama Orie sang praises to the child still recalcitrant to leave the uterus. “You have stayed in the womb for too long. Now, you must come over to this side. Come and see the flowing rivers of our land down to Oji. Come and see the fertile land where our crops grow in bountiful harvest. Come and see the warriors of Anioma with their spears, arrows and machetes ready to cut down men to smaller sizes. Come and see the beautiful women of Anioma dancing to the rhythm of the Atilogwu. Come and have a taste of the early morning freshly tapped palm wine. Come and see the land of Anioma, where the sun rises, where the moon blossoms. Come, my child to your home.”

Mama Orie pushed her hands further into the thighs of Eke. Slowly, she could feel the head of the child rested firmly on her hands. She could feel a soft smile cross her old scraggy face.

“Ekeoma!” she called, “The child is close. He is very close to mother earth. I need you to push with all the strength in the world.”

Eke replied with a nod. She exhaled, gasping slowly, then pushed with all the strength she could muster, her shrieks vibrating the small hut.

Mama Orie pulled the child out almost immediately, while Eke felt relieved at last from all the hurdles of childbirth. 

“Nwa Amadi, Ndewo!” she reiterated, the child strapped softly on her arms. The child let out a soft cry to announce his welcome to the world. At the sound of the first cry, all the women outside the hut started singing and dancing to Ani, the goddess of fertility.

“She, who hears the prayers of women.
Ani, the goddess of fertility.
We revere thee.
As women, we are empty with no seeds.
Left barren by mother earth.
Nature takes its toll.
Turning us into the fertile lands for children.
May our husbands not plough in vain.
May the Ogbanjes avoid us in their torment.
May our wombs grow with many children.
Children who will plough the land.
Children who will protect us from the invading soldiers and raiders.
Children of Anioma, who will take proud husbands and be ravished with the blessings of Ani.
Ani, make us fertile”

“Now, Eke, you must rest from this journey.” Mama Orie softly whispered to the weak young mother still lying on the mat. She left Eke in the care of her hand maidens who would clean her up, and allow her get the rest she deserved after such a tedious journey. The rain was drizzling softly at the moment.

Mama Orie strapped the child to the comfort of her firm experienced hands, slowly taking him to meet all who had assembled to hear the first cries of the new child.

In the land of Anioma, barren women were known to flock around the scene, when a child was ready to come to the world. It was well known that Ani may pass her blessings to them during this period to become fertile. Also, members of the Umuada, family and friends were among those who were keen to hear the first cries of the child.

Mama Orie walked in a meticulous fashion as if the child would vanish from her hands bridging the distance between the new born and his father. When she got to the man glistening his teeth to the reflection of the moon light, she dropped the tender child in his his palm - Amadi, the conqueror of Igbo Uzo.

His face beaming with smiles to welcome his first son…his okpara. He looked into the eyes of the child. He glared at him meticulously trying to find a semblance of himself in the child.

After a while, he smiled again, revealing his brown teeth to the crowd. He raised the child towards the moon, while the small crowd that had gathered outside the hut chanted repeatedly in euphoria, reeling their voice to the rhythm of the splattering rain and the cackling thunder.

Translation

Okpara - First Son
Uhammiri - Rain makers
Umuada - first daughters of the land
Nwadiala - son of the soil
Nwa Amadi - son of Amadi
Ani - the Igbo goddess of fertility
Ndewo - Welcome.