Women Of Steel | ✔

XLVIII

The night before my coronation, Sade's body arrives back home along with a parchment declaring Amadi dead too, her family throw together an impromptu funeral that same night. I sit in my room, drinking stolen freshly squeezed lime juice and brooding. I want something stronger but the moment I picked up a calabash of palm wine, my gaze strayed to my flat stomach.

The door opens unexpectedly, Tobiloba steps in, wearing his usual distaste on his face. His lips twist and disapproval lines his frown.

The prince refuses to leave until I have been rightfully crowned -- his words, not mine -- and Sade has been properly buried. I despise his presence and his unwanted and unwavering support. Tobiloba has taken it upon himself to look after me and make sure I don't sink further into depression, his attempts doesn't work but the prince is a delusional optimist.

He is wearing black clothes. Mourning clothes.

I swallow a mouthful of sour lime juice and scrunch my face. My silence is our usual dance, I ignore him and he stares until I break my will.

Not tonight.

Tonight he breaks the silence. "You should pay your respects to Sade, for the last time."

"She's dead, she doesn't care for my respects. The dead want nothing." I say, I stretch my legs on the floor and flex my stiff foot.

The kingmakers have put me to all sorts of tests, they don't think I can win a fight with Tadenikawo, I am not so sure either, I've seen my husband fight and he is not an easy man to beat. Before, I was too blinded by revenge to see through the truth, before it was kill him or die, my life did not matter; not like now.

"Then pay respects to her poor family."

My eyes flash dangerously. "Her poor family sold her to Tadenikawo for wealth, forgive me if I don't pity them."

Tobiloba rubs his forehead in impatience, he is a man of little patience and we have gone through this conversation a million times. "They had no choice."

I scoff. "Is that what they told you?"

"Get up and get dressed."

"I am done answering to any mortal, man or woman. Leave me be."

I pretend to excuse my absence for hate to Sade's family, but we both know the truth, I don't want to see Sade's body lifeless and dirt is thrown on her body, I don't want to see her eyes shut in death and those lips that used to smile at me in an emotionless line.

"I will send my condolences in the form of cowries and cows, Tadenikawo bought her life, let me buy her in death."

I watch all the hope Tobiloba ever had for me leave his eyes, he finally sees me for what I see myself and it is not a sight for the faint of heart. I am selfish, yes, because I have had enough taken from me that I have learnt to guard whatever is left. I wonder what he would think if I told him of the child I carry.

Tobiloba casts one last hopeless glance at me, all his dreams of saving the wounded monster crushed and he leaves, slamming the door with all strength in his body, leaving it rattling even long after he is gone.

I sneak to Sade's funeral, hiding far behind among the bushes. Sade is not even buried like she deserves but among the countless other dead in a shallow grave in the forbidden forest.

Her father and mother huddle together, weeping for their only daughter and her brothers hunch their shoulders and try to be brave.

I shed a final tear for the woman she might have been. I can see it all in my head, Sade getting married like she always dreamed of, Sade growing old and blessing her world with her beautiful dimpled smile. Those pretty dreadlocks will never see old age.

I cast a glance at Tobiloba standing solemnly, and he turns, as if feeling my stare on his back. I am not sure if he sees me among the shrubs but I feel the intensity of his gaze before he turns his head away.

By morning, Tobiloba is gone forever from Ile Wura.

***

At dawn, the first coronation ritual happens at the river Osun that meets with the river Sango that runs from Ile Ogo, another of the eight Yoruba kingdoms. Osun and Oba river was named after two of the three wives of the god of thunder, Sango. Often because of the violent movement of the waters against each other, it is said that the rivers are actually the goddess who because of their deep rivalry turned into the river to fight each other.

The water that was red like blood from the plague of the king's curse clears magically as I set foot into it. A chief lets out a low whoop of victory and is quickly chided by another chief.

It is a sacred rite that every king goes through before becoming king, and is usually performed by the chief priest with the kingmakers present and a few members of the cabinet. The ritual is called the Etutu omi; ritual of water.

I am clad in only white wrapper and I am half submerged into the warm water, in spite of the warmness I shiver terribly, my fear of the water is not going anywhere anytime soon. Ifatunji murmurs prayers as he rubs my head with a strange soap and washes it off repeatedly with the now clean water.

"Wa sho rire,"

"Ashe." I reply, teeth chattering and hands tightly wrapped around myself.

"Orisha wa pelu e,"

"Ashe."

"Alaafia, idunu ati Ibukun ma tele ijoba e,"

"Ashe."

My heart beats a drum in my chest, threatening to jump out, in a few minutes I will be joint to a fate I have ran from and rebuked. Oddly, the ritual feels a lot like letting a part of me go, wither and die in the water. It does not cleanse me of my numerously sins, it does not drown years of guilt, hate and self loathing but I feel different.

It is too early too tell if this feeling is a good one. My hand shifts down to my stomach, still unsure of what to make of it but it is another fate I am stuck with. All my life I have been fighting a war but I am tired of running away.

I murmur and mumble my answer to his prayers until he runs out of them. With Ifatunji's guidance, I step out of the water and knee before the kingmakers as one after the other they place several bangles made of white beads on my wrists and ankles. They slip several rings on my fingers and a final necklace on my neck.

The seventh kingmaker places the traditional crown on my head, sealing my fate. It is a cap like crown decorated with numerous tiny black beads that run down two lines to my neck. I look up at the sky to see the sun staring down me in approval.

The kingmakers smile simultaneously, and the first one on the line speaks.

"Arise, Kabiyesi Demilade Dhara Adegboyega."

I don't gracefully rise, I stumble to my feet, all my sins a rock I continue to trip on, and the men before me sink to their own knees and bow face down, chanting the same word over and over.

"Kabiyesi."