ÀṢÀKẸ́

CHAPTER TWO

I was terrified. I regretted disobeying màámi by taking the route she had always disapproved of. I was ahead of these men and in the course of this frantic race, I hit my foot against a very huge stone. I fell on the floor holding my foot as blood gushed out. To top my already intense and terrifying ordeal, it started raining heavily. I was on the floor whimpering in self pity when I remembered I was being chased. Glancing back and realizing they almost caught up to me, I sprung up with a foot, suspended the injured one in the air and began leaping.

They caught up to me and one of them slapped me. I couldn't see their faces clearly. While attempting to carry me on his shoulders, I bit his ear, using just enough pressure to crush a bone —or at least the cartilage. He screamed out of pain and threw me off his shoulders. I reached out for the nearest stone and threw it, carefully aiming for the head of the second man. I don't know where it hit, but it hit him, and he fell.

With both men down and groaning in pains, I stood up and ran for my life, still holding the bottle of kerosene. They struggled, trying to catch me, but I ran faster and for that period of time, as if suddenly induced with adrenaline, I had forgotten that I had an injury.

Getting home, I ran straight inside as the main door was opened. I got to the sitting room where my mother and father were, with my father reciting incantations and my mother praying to the gods on my behalf.

“kíló ṣẹlẹ̀?”(what happened?) màámi asked with her eyes wide opened, her face drenched with fear . She collected the kerosene from me and reached out for the lantern. She rushed, pouring the kerosene into the lantern and nervously searched for matches, while I whimpered in the background. My father maintained a stern look; clearly, he was frustrated.

“Ah! Èjẹ̀ rèé! Kíló ṣẹlẹ̀?” ( this is blood! What happened?!), Màámi exclaimed, bringing the lighted lantern closer to me.

My father got up, ran inside and brought out a powdery substance and applied it on the wounded part. I was relieved of the pain a bit, but the thought of my near death experience— or so I thought, escaping by the skin of my teeth terrified me so I kept crying.

My father, now rest assured, went in to have his sleep as he would be getting up very early the following morning to engage in farm activities.

“Óyá sọ fún mi, kíló ṣẹlẹ̀?”(now tell me, what happened?). I already changed clothes and eaten hot èbà and vegetable soup, topped with grass cutter meat which was hunted and killed by my father. My mother spoke calmly, using pleasant words, which got me surprised because I expected to be insulted and beaten by her.

“Mo lọ gba ibi tí ẹ sọpé kí n má gbà, àwọn ọkùnrin méjì kan wá ń lé mi”(I went through the route you asked me not to go through, then two men chased me). At this point, tears began pouring out of my eyes. Màámi, who was seated opposite me stretched her hand to clean the tears off my face.

“ Má sunkún mọ́ àṣàkẹ́ mi”(stop crying my asake), she said as she gently stroked my hair with her right hand, “mo mọ ǹkan tí mo rí tí mo fi sọpé ko má gba ibẹ̀yẹn” (I know what I have seen that prompted me to instruct you not to go through that route). I bowed my head in guilt.

She stroked my hair again and tried convincing me not to feel guilty. She assured me of her love for me, saying she wasn't just being unnecessarily strict to me regarding that subject.

“Mo ó sọ ìtan ìlú yìí, àti ìtan bí o ṣe wá sáyé fún ẹ”(I'll tell you a story of this village and your origin).

I got interested immediately. On that day, màámi narrated the circumstances surrounding my birth and what I love to call the ‘dark culture’ of our land.