Chapter 7

It was the evening of Afor market day. The rainy season had passed us by. The vegetation had been at its lushest. It was a sign of a bountiful crop. People around were enthusiastic about the impending bountiful harvest. The sluggish farmers lamented their lack of industry. They wished they could have done more. Itanga, in fact, hadn't felt this fantastic in years. The children relished the peace and quiet of the village, as well as the end of the planting season. While some gathered in small groups to listen to older children tell folktales, others played other games. The lads playfully wrestled with their peers . In preparation for the new yam festival, some females learned new dance techniques. The girls were not left out of the fun and games at Williams' compound. The entire atmosphere was infused with happiness.

However, the moon had not shown for five consecutive market weeks. Mrs Evelyn became more concerned with each passing day. Keeping track of the date of her impending labor was becoming increasingly difficult. She had been nervous about the whole thing since the first day. She had urged Catherine for years to reveal the sign given to her by the queen of coast to signify the advent of her own child, but Catherine had kept her lips shut despite every technique she had used to pry the knowledge from her.

Catherine had shaken her head angrily every time the subject came up.She'd merely smiled ruefully and said, "Don't worry. It will become evident with time." Mrs Evelyn went on with her life, believing that things would work themselves out over time.

Today, she wasn't looking for anything specific and wasn't expecting anything significant, but her eyes were drawn to something bright in the sky shortly after the sun set. It was the much-awaited new moon. When she saw it, her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the river goddess's words from months before. "And she will deliver my prince exactly five moons after the first moon appearing on any Afor market day beginning today."

She remembers not understanding the sentence, even when the eccentric chief priest tried to explain it to her. The long-awaited new moon had finally arrived, and her entire being was stuck in a maze of conflicting feelings.

Evelyn overheard Jane and Linda singing and dancing to the tune of a well-known folklore moonlight song for youngsters. The words she heard were from a popular song she used to sing when she was younger. It didn't mean anything to her young mind back then, but she could make some sense of it today. She shuddered as the lyrics of the song came to life.

"Afor moon, Afor moon

Go away, Afor moon.

You are not welcome, The children you provide.

Come and go so quickly

'A pound of flesh is your price.'

Rehearsing the chilling words of the song in her heart as her girls sang spiritedly, she looked at the fateful moon courageously. She did not let its intimidating appearance fluster her, even though the sweat on her forehead and her cold clammy hands betrayed the frightening apprehension that had already gripped her heart. What should she expect?

The moon cheered itself distinctly in the sky. It was so bright that even a blind man could have pointed it out without difficulty. Its unusual brightness drew the curious attention of virtually everybody in Itanga.

Speculation was rife regarding the significance of its countenance. Dogs were heard from far and near barking at it. Some villagers came out of their huts to gaze at it. In reality, there was nothing too unusual about its appearance other than its near light orange radiance - a color quite different from the usual silvery hue which most of the people were used to. It was an unusual and lonely visitor standing in the sky.

An hour after she sighted the moon, Mrs Evelyn felt a shooting pain in her waist and she quickly made for her husband's room to notify him about the setting in of labour. She sent Linda to quickly call Catherine. Catherine was also to hire the services of Tessy, the experienced traditional birth attendant.

Catherine proved to be the true and reliable friend Evelyn had boasted to her husband about. Catherine had on her own also looked out for the telltale signs of when her friend would go into labour. She did not want Mrs Evelyn to miss the perfect timing for giving birth to her male child. She kept remembering how she had missed it in her own time, and had had to pay heavily for it. Because of her concern on this account, she was able to be present by Evelyn's side shortly after her first signs of labour. Catherine had left her home as soon as she had sighted the long-awaited fifth' moon. Due to her concern for her friend, she had not even waited to be sent for before leaving to see Mrs Evelyn . She had met Linda on her way. Together they had gone to fetch Tessy the traditional birth attendant before proceeding to Williams house .

Evelyn was grateful for Catherine arrival. It boosted her spirit so much. Although she had tried to convince herself that all was well about her pregnancy, very recent events had left her very scared. Her head had swarmed with scary thoughts. She even entertained the thought that she might not make it alive. Thanks to Catherine's welcome presence; however, the oppressive thoughts were dissipating by the minute.

Catherine helped her clean the house and prepare the appropriate soups recommended for post-delivery care. The uda soup was highly recommended for the purpose. She chatted and conversed with Mrs Evelyn while she worked. Her words and wise counsels helped Mrs Evelyn pull through the physical and psychological discomforts of labour pains. The hour drew close more quickly than Mrs Evelyn would have imagined.

While the intensity of labour stepped up in Evelyn's hut, an interesting phenomenon was developing outside. The weather suddenly changed. Palm fronds began to swing wildly under the powerful and violent wind that was gaining speed and force. Trees of every height and size groaned and swayed under the lashing winds. Roof rafters heaved and squeaked in protest against a phenomenon that had never been experienced in Itanga . The thatches in turn strived hard to avoid being yanked entirely from the roof. The garden about grappled gamely with whirls of dirt thrown at it by what looked like an unseen vengeful hand.

Wails and shouts from people and livestock filled the night. There was chaos all over and not a few fled to the safety of whatever they trusted to hide their skins from the anger of unknown gods.

"Was the world coming to an end?" many people asked, directing the question to nobody in particular.

Occasionally, the anger of the wind would take a dive as if needed a bedlam would be unleashed once again. At such times the sighs and mournful refrains of cocoyam stems mingled in the chaos as though striving to be heard.

It was evident that something was wrong in the community that evening. It could be felt by even the most indifferent of persons. Yet-to- be-identified deities were furious, it seemed.

Williams house was not spared the ruckus. Strange objects littered every available space in the compound. A few clothing, actually not belonging to any member of Mr Williams family, lay strewn all over the place. Matted trays made from palm fronds used particularly for drying foodstuff in the sun cluttered up the courtyard. It was nothing short of mayhem. Many people believed that the gods had unleashed a reign of terror on the people of Itanga for some reason.

Mr Williams did not understand what was unfolding. He had never witnessed that kind of night before. From time to time, in his occupation, he had witnessed strong and violent stirrings on the big river, but nothing of the nature he was witnessing at the moment.

He remembered the story his grandfather had narrated to him many years ago about one particular storm that almost blew away the entire village of Itanga . Then, his great grandfather was the traditional ruler. According to his grandfather's account, many people in Itanga believed the storm had been remotely dispatched from Okpogwu, a neighboring village in retaliation for Itanga's implication in the abduction of the first son of the priestess of their revered deity. Mr Williams was only a little boy when his grandfather narrated the story to him. Then, he had taken it as a fictitious story spun by an old man seeking to impress his grandchild.

As he observed the storm, Mr Williams remembered his grandfather again. But for the present situation, he could have completely forgotten about him. He managed to force a wry smile when he remembered the ridgy wrinkles on the old man's veined hands. He had once intently looked at them, trying to study their patterns as they crisscrossed the back of the old man's hands.