She tries to turn her head to ascertain the source of the
voice, but not successful. Besides, how would she see the person in this brilliant
darkness? She wonders sadly.
The hailstones withdraw and the noise in the sky die down. Surprisingly,
her feet unlock from the earth and she turns around. The question repeats
itself from the path behind. She spins around and around; she never gets the particular
direction.
“I…I was sent by Yemoja, yeye olokun – the sea goddess,” she
says anxiously.
“To do what?” The voice barks.
“To set my brothers free from bondage of cruel mankind,”
says she, now in a stern voice, “and I
want to break the eggs of life which represent their destinies,” She begins to
wonder, at this moment, what has befallen her magical endowment.
“Your powers are not active at this very spot, young
goddess,” says the voice, in a less severe manner, “and your thoughts are like
spoken words in my ears. No matter how
much power you possess, I am invisible to
every eyes. I’m only visible to Eledumare, the god of creation, because
I dwell between heaven and earth. Are
you aware you are in Aginju Iberu?”
“Ye…Yes. I am aware,” she stammers, groping around in the
dark like a blind beggar that has just misplaced a walking stick.
“ I will not hurt you due to the nature of your assignment.
If you had come for evil, I will not hesitate before sending you to the river
where you belong. Many humans have come here to keep glories and destinies of
their kinds. Some succeeded. Majority did not. I’m not sure if your mission will be
successful with all you shall come across on your way. From here, your disappearing
force would be impotent until you mission is fulfilled. May the head of Olokun
stand solidly behind you.”
“ Ase!” she says, rubbing her palms together in prayer.
“I am heading to my abode. I saw you by chance on my way to a
journey. Now you can leave.”
“Thank you,” she says, bowing her head slightly in
obeisance.
At that instant rivers of withered leaves and dust gather in
clouds, sweeping and whistling in the air. Trees swaying wildly like drunk dancers,
twigs and branches breaking down, snapping
and crackling under the violent wind. The shadowy clouds begin to clear way for
less dark masses when a blood red moon creeps to the center of the sky. In the
course of the upsurge, Mojisola shields her eyes from the dust.
Woo—woo—woo—woo—woo! Woo—woo—woo—woo—woo!
At once the silence is replaced by creepy, bloodcurdling
roars, rising and falling with howling of the wind. The continuous chirpings of
insects and cries of night birds blend with the noise to compose a more
dreadful tune. The darkness barely breaks down under the peering moon; so, she
picks her way aimlessly towards the path ahead. She wishes no creature would
attack her before she regains her power. Every single sound seems to startle
her; even the slightest crunching of dry leaves under her bare feet. Acrid
odour of muddy shrubs and trees squeeze into her nostrils, clenching her stomach.
She feels empty, apart from the privilege of being in her future image. She
wonders why Yemoja hasn’t told her this before. She prays silently to olokun
that no evil should befall her. After walking several feet further she feels a radiation
in her body. She halts abruptly. Instinctively, she knows that her power has
returned. To verify it, She picks up a twig-covered stick that is lying among
the scattering leaves, then dilates her eyes which snappily reddens like
burning coals— the stick flares up with yellow flames. She smiles and let out a
sigh of relief. After squinting prophetically at her left palm she starts
clearing her way with the flame. Hanging on the tree-branches above are human skeletons
of different frames covered by cobwebs, and at the feet of each tree are heaps
of human skulls, soiled fabrics, rust swords, machetes, and rifles. She wonders
if any war took place on the land in the remote past – perhaps thousands of
seasons ago since she can see swords hanging from the chests of some skeletons.
Crack-crack-crack-crack — a sharp
noise from behind prompts her to turn
around like a whirlwind. It is a broken-down twig landing on the ground from
tree branches. Before turning back on the path the strikes come again in
doubled successions. Turning around again, there is no tree at that spot, but
tangled undergrowth. Meanwhile a certain animal rushed into the undergrowth.
Mojisola stumbles when the earth starts
quaking under her feet as if hundreds of elephant are approaching. The quaking
would stop for a measured moment and continues again as if it has been timed. She
wants to move, but loses balance—almost falling off her feet. Then like the snap of a ‘Y’–catapult, a
painful slap descends at the back of her neck. When she waves the flaming stick
in the direction of the blow she sees nothing—she can only hear a mocking grin
like the one made by a naughty two-year old baby. Again and again, slaps lashing
at her back like spit of angry fire. Suddenly, the earth stands still. With her
eyes reddening with rage, she tosses the flaming stick away and thrust her both
hands in all directions of the forest. With that, lightning radiate into the
night, hanging from one tree to another in a mighty web. Unfolding before her
is a dwarf with a mat on his head, eyes hollowed out between a head twice
bigger than a burnt-looking body.
“Why did you burn my skin?” The
creature barks, showing clenched decaying teeth.
From his appearance Mojisola knows
he is Egbere—a mat-carrying spirit.
With her hands resting on her
hips, Mojisola snarls, “The reason is so obvious!”
“You deserve that!” the dwarf
yells, “You stirred me and my children from sleep with that fire in your hand.
After wandering endlessly during the day; you don’t want us to have a good
sleep in the night? Many humans have come here, and they ended up as meats for
the vulture!”
Mojisola smirks between a calm
anger, “Now, show me your house around here.”
The creature points at the oak
tree behind him, “Are you blind? Is that not a house? Don’t just let me drop this
mat on the ground. Or else!”
Mojisola wonders what would
happen if he drops the mat; nevertheless she doesn’t panic.
“Or else what!”
On hearing that, the creature
spread out the mat on the ground, and at once the earth begins to vibrate again.
Mojisola loses her balance and falls on her back. She feels her back stuck to
the earth. The Egbere roars with a triumphant laughter which immediately drives
his family out of the tree wall. All of them, with spears and swords in their
hands, surge over Mojisola, swinging their weapons for finishing blows.
With blue flames shooting from
her glowing red eyes Mojisola melts down their weapons into cloud of ashes. Yelping
and screeching in pains, they all stagger backwards to reinforce. Again she
uses her eyes to heighten the force of the wind which abruptly kicks the mat into
the air like a dry leaf—the earth becomes stagnant at once. The creatures’
attention immediately divert to the flying mat. Like a rising piece of wood, Mojisola
stands swiftly on her feet.
“My mat! My mat! My mat!” The
father dwarf cries out, soaring after the mat in the air, but before he could
reach it Mojisola has set the mat on fire with her glowing eyeballs. While the
mat is blazing they all disappear into the night, wailing and screeching
hurtfully.
Gasping in devastation, Mojisola
wonders if the mat is their strengths. She believes they have gone to gather
more force; maybe overpowering ones. Squinting into her palm again, she
discovers that her destination is nearby. Just as she bends down to pick up another
stick, she hears crowd of chatty voices waking
and dying under the wind. She wonders if there is a village where normal people
are residing there.
She is baffled once she perceives
reflections of fire afar off — that is the only path that leads to her
destination. She lights up the stick
with pale orange flames. After walking a little further, she can see lamps
twinkling like masses of stars in the blackness ahead. “Is this a night market?”
She wonders aloud.
“Yes, it is a night market, but
for the spirits of Aginju iberu,” a manly voice answers from nowhere.
“Who is that?” Mojisola asks.
“ I’m right beside you, if only
you can use your inner eyes.”
Waiting for the next part
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