SOMALINZE: THE GREAT RIVERS

ATO : THE RETURN HOME (2)

Somma sat in the almost wall less Obí. The only wall stretched between the north pillars, bore the painting of her grandfather and grandmother, and his parents, and theirs. She loved the painting, she loved the fresh air. She just sat there, looking at the painting. She occasionally read a book she brought with her. The people were welcoming and kind. She remembered the welcome they received, as dad drove into the town. The smell was a little different, it had a hint of beer. There was music everywhere. At every corner it changed. It was beautiful, igbo highlife. And igbo flute songs.
The youths caught a glimpse of mum and dad, and started running with our car, shouting welcome. Dad gave them some money, and they thanked and prayed for him. Though I think some of those were praises. It was all in igbo, I really couldn't make out everything.
The welcome party back home was even more intense. About fifteen women, wearing matching traditional outfits, danced around us and sang several songs. They came in respect of grandma. She was one of the major matriarchs of the whole local government area. They honored her son and his family, and so had honored her. The men sat in the Obí. Grandfather was there with his friends and kinsmen. Most of the men sitting were old, while their young sons stood behind them. What was odd was that one of the young men stood under the guava tree at the far right of the obi, he just stood there, the shadow of the tree covering his face. But light shone on his left arm. He had a tattoo. A snake biting itself forming almost a circle. And another snake biting its tail and curving around the former snake. This formed a spiral. I couldn't stop staring until mum called me. Grandfather was also a major player in traditional and city politics, as well as a notable philanthropist. These men came at his call to honor him.
We had Akpu and Egusi soup for dinner. I couldn't finish the whole thing. I felt so heavy. Jeff hungrily finished his. How it all entered his small stomach? I wonder. After that it was bedtime. And gosh, I really needed the sleep.

THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

'Now it's eleven in the morning. And I haven't done anything useful with myself. ' she thought. Somma looked over to the pumpkin gardens, where mom was looking at the pumpkins. "These pumpkins are huge and juicy... How do you it? " she heard mom ask. Mom was trying to bond with the women, as it was traditionally a responsibility of a wife, to be friends with the women in her husbands family. Though that was a far cry from what actually happens in the books Somma read.

Somma turned to her left now, it was just the wall and vast expanse of tall palm trees. She inhaled deeply and exhaled smiling, looking at the trees. Suddenly, something caught her eye. It was a girl. Somma could see her standing in the distance, like as if she stood on a branch of one of the tall trees. 'That's not possible. ' Somma thought. Somma knew that the palm forests of the southern igbo states were secondary. They didn't have huge, buttress root trees with giant branches. Plus, she didn't see the branch the girl was standing on.

Somma continued reading her book, she had gone a few pages, when she felt like checking the trees again. She turned to look at the trees. "Ha! " she jumped in fright. The girl was still standing there, the same position and everything. Somma laughed, picked up her book, "If you like kill yourself there, which kain nonsense be dis one. I don't have time for this play... " Somma muttered to herself partly in pidgin as she walked out the obi. She looked back again. The girl was still there, she walked quickly to the front door. And went straight to her bedroom and locked her door. She had heard the stories of the powerful traditional practicing witches and false priests that plagued the indigenous villages. And the stories of spirits that walked about the land of the living. Mmuo, they were called. Somma didn't care if the girl was either of those things. She had heard enough troubling stories to know that if you see something you don't understand, you run.