He
could not have known. How could he? No one had told him that they would prepare
a feast for him at the village square. Or that masquerades and flat tummied
maidens would dance their sparkly bodies in the heat of the sun till night for
him. He could not have anticipated the sounds of the canons fired in the
distance. That the Amara kingdom would be celebrating him. The Prince. The
young Nigerian boy out of the moonlight tales who aspired beyond his father’s
legacies to own his name.
Then
again even if he saw all that in a dream a night before, he still could not
catch up with his racing heart when Oma latched onto his torso.
‘I
have been waiting for you.’ Oma said
‘And
you grew more ravishing in the process.’ returning her touch, caressing her
face
‘Come
with me’ she said snatching him from the crowd.
‘Where
are we going?’
‘Don’t
worry. You’ll see.’
Now
she sat beside him in her room. Her face struck part black part gold with the
beam of the flames from the kerosene lamp and the shadows thereby. They were
breathing each other’s air.
‘He
waited for you too.’ She said.
 |
| Photo taken from a scene in 'Rags' the movie. |
‘I
know.’
‘There
was not one day he didn’t think of you.’
‘I
thought of him too.’ He eyes flashed here a piercing stare. Flaring like
lightening. ‘Take it off.’
They
had searched for Nnaji all night and were returning with the sad news when they
bumped into him and Omalinze with yellow cans headed for the stream.
‘Thank
the gods. We searched for you all night.’ Said Itche Anayo who was leading the
search party
‘I’m
sorry my fathers. I had to pay my respect to my old friend,’
‘It’s
difficult to see friends like you both these days.’ He said heaving a sigh of
relief. ‘You still remember him even after all your years in the white man’s
land.’
‘I
never forgot.’
