CRADLE OF THE GODS

Chapter 2

The people of Eguoma gathered around the town hall where the elders normally met. It was usually a quiet place especially during their private meetings, but not that day. The thatch canopy was filled beyond capacity and more people were on the way. The elders sat on a high table to attend to the crowd before them.

"My elders!" a man shouted. "A bushfire started from nowhere and razed all my crops to ash..."

"Ndi ichie! The gods have ceased to bless us with water from the heavens!" another yelled.

"All our crops are withered and the streams are running dry..."

"The last time it rained, the entire community was flooded!" yet another said.

These and more were the complaints that bombarded the elders in torrents. The elders had hardly contained the situation when a woman ran in. The rambunctious town hall became silent as all eyes were fixed on her. She was wailing with her son's charred remains in her arms, singing songs of lamentation. She was accompanied by other family members and some sympathizers.

"My fathers!" she yelled. "My fathers! Why? Why have the gods decided to treat me so? Chai...!"

She broke down in tears again continuing her song of lamentation. Some people gave her support as she almost collapsed.

"Calm down my daughter!" one of the elders said. "It is well, o? My child, what happened?"

"My fathers", the woman's husband managed to speak.

"We begged the goddess of fertility for 10 years! Ten good years before we got Isioma...! Hmmn! The goddess of fertility gave and the god of weather has taken."

He shook his head in silence.

"Okoro", an elder said. "Tell us what happened to your son?"

"Isioma was coming from the farm when lightning struck him..." the woman's husband continued.

"From nowhere... lightning struck him and it was not even trying to rain!"

The room became rowdy again. One could hear words like "Ore!" rise above other murmurs

"What is going on?" some elders asked, "How can there be lightning in this drought?"

"Surely we must have angered the gods", they concluded.

"Someone must have committed an abomination! When we catch that person he will be sacrificed!"

"But we have offered sacrifices", some replied.

"We have given the best of our goats and our largest tubers of yam to the gods. What could we possibly have done that is beyond appeasement?"

The hall suddenly became silent. All eyes were on the chief priest as he walked in backwards, his staff making a chinking sound each time it touched the ground. He uttered some incantations as he came in. He was the custodian of the oracle in all the communities.

"Alas the problem at hand cannot be solved by the blood of goats and tubers of yam", he said. His hoarse voice sent a chill down every spine.

"There is trouble in Paradise. Some communities are scorched; some are flooded... The weather is hysterical... The gods need the bravest, strongest and the wisest of men from every community to embark on a journey. Once you have selected these men, bring them to the shrine. They must be there before dusk tomorrow... Be warned! The fate of mankind rests in our hands."

"Wise one!" the elders asked.

"What have we done wrong?"

The chief priest burst into laughter much to the dismay of those around.

"We always think the world revolves around us, 'surely we must have done something wrong'. This problem is beyond you. It is no fault of yours. Just bring the men tomorrow. That is all the gods wish to say at this time."

He began to utter some incantations as he danced around the hall. People avoided him as he approached them like a masquerade. Then he stopped.

"Even the blind know when the rain is falling", he said.

"Bring the men tomorrow!"

He then walked backwards out of the hall, continuing his incantations.