* * *
With the three month deadline required by tradition to bury the King fast approaching, and Albert still unable to take the staff, the focus shifted to giving the Ideme the most befitting burial possible. The entire kingdom became frantic as they were reminded of the imminent danger. Farming seized, and farmers resorted to sowing crops around their homes and managed whatever they could reap until the risk of getting captured by headhunters no longer existed. Market places also became deserted, and hunger reigned as people preferred to starve than have their heads accompany the dead King to the afterworld. Since the headhunters were known to first seek the required number of heads from feuding neighbors before plundering their own people, neighboring towns like Ntebe were forced to maintain vigilance during coronations. Travelers also kept their noses to the ground to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. These henchmen applied all kinds of techniques to catch their prey, from using saboteurs within families to instigating clashes and gathering the spoils until they got enough heads.
Since failing to bury the King the right way carried its own set of consequences. Everyone offered unsolicited advice from the safety of their homes to ensure no stone was left unturned. Everyone, except me. If Albert couldn’t pick up the staff, he could not be crowned the King of Ide, and I could not become his wife. To my relief, the wedding was postponed indefinitely, and I could not help but feel that everything was working altogether for my good.
Chapter Fourteen
AS PREPARATIONS FOR the Ideme’s funeral began, bizarre incidents started occurring in Ide. Strange ailments struck both the young and the old, citizens disappeared in record numbers, and the soil became barren. Crops that were ready for harvesting suddenly withered and died. Fear gripped the populace. Rumors swelled that the gods were angry about the state of the town. Their wrath was so great that they needed more than the required human sacrifices to be appeased. There were claims that the Ideme’s hunters and henchmen prowled the residential neighborhoods after midnight in search of victims. The whole town became infected with terror. Everyone retreated inside by dusk and remained so until sunrise. The tension in Ide transferred to Ntebe and my home.
“Ona, you have to avoid going out from now on,” my grandmother pleaded when we sat down for dinner. “I know you’re a grown woman now, but I have never seen such chaos in my life. I was a young girl when the last king was crowned, and though there was human sacrifice, it was not of this magnitude. I don’t want to endure any more loss. Have you heard me?”
“Grandma, is this not mostly Ide’s wahala? Is it not their problem? I know it’s possible for the headhunters to prey Ntebe, but I always come back before dark. Besides, the only place I ever visit these days is Amah’s house. Are you saying I shouldn’t even go there?”
“Hmm, Ona. There is no difference between Ide and Ntebe when it comes to things like this. Our borders are so close that anything affecting one will trickle down to the other. Don’t even visit Amah. If Amah wants to see you, she can come here. It’s best to exercise caution in these times. Is it not better to be safe than sorry?”
“Grandma, I’ve heard,” I said, reaching for her hand. “I don’t want to be used to appease the gods of Ide. That will not be my portion.”
My grandmother retrieved her hand and snapped both fingers, pursing her lips. “Yes, that will not be your portion,” she reiterated. “You won’t believe what I heard from the market women.”
“What could be worse than what we already know?”
“They need twenty heads.”
“What?” I screamed as unease slithered down my back.
She nodded and began at once to fill her glass with wine.
“Two for every decade he has ruled and the rest for whatever reason I don’t know. People are saying all kinds of things. I strongly believe all this has something to do with Albert not being able to take that staff.”
“I can’t believe these things are still happening in this day and age. Grandma, is this honestly real?” I asked wide-eyed.
“Yes, and by the look of things, they’re bent on reaching their target. Do you know how many people were reported missing this past week? People are disappearing in record numbers. Hoodlums are also taking over. The timing has never been more perfect for people that feel they have a score to settle with their fellow human beings to attack. Murderers and ne’er-do-wells are seizing this opportunity to rob and kill and perform all manners of ills.”
“But they’ll get caught.”
“No! They won’t. Not if things get out of hand. They plan to get cover under the lawlessness that will surely follow.”
I didn’t know what to believe, but I took my grandmother’s advice and stayed within the confines of Ntebe. Soon, the disorderliness resulted in the resurfacing of old ills. Rumors of pending clashes between Ide and Ntebe reached our ears. A curfew was set in Ntebe to avoid the actions of miscreants. The two towns were yet to recover from the last clash, which left several injured and many properties destroyed. Land that was previously ruled on by the courts, again, became a source for dispute. Cases that were assumed to have been settled several years back were reopened. Some of them were at least a hundred years old. The files had rotted, and the original owners of the land had long since decomposed in
