Omowumi and the gods

 She was the last woman to lay her feet on Akanni's threshold. That night was very memorable : as cold water was poured on her limbs by the household's middle-aged women and lifted into her husband's warm room, chants of "iyawo wa" pervaded the air. And some men drinking palm wine said the tears on her cheeks were that of joy.

"That is how it feels like" a bald man among them added, guffawing, with his set of blackened scattered teeth. "My first daughter, Anike wept just like egbere on her marriage night". He guffawed again. And his drinking friends joined in the stint.

Of course she knew herself that the tears were not joyful ones, not at all. Her mother knew that too.  She had even promised to sulk throughout her marriage night. She had promised to harden her heart against any forms of happiness that come with getting married. She had seen her friends and how their faces glowed with ecstasy when they were about to marry. Secretly in the room she had vowed to herself not to be overwhelmed by the rhythm of the talking drums and "omele" and "shekere" or songs from those household's women. But her mother implored her, in bitter tears, not to do so. And so she did not sulk on her marriage night. She only burst into tears at intervals, the silent pains locked in her heart tingling her.

And three moons after her wedding with Akanni, the popular palm wine tapper of Oluode town, she came to pay her mother a visit. 

She was dozing on a bamboo bench when Omowumi, her daughter arrived.

"Ekaasan iya mi" the greeting jolted her to reality.

And as she fluttered her eyelids open Iya Mogaji appeared. Her eyes fixated on the broom-swept ground, she was obviously searching for something which by not finding it on time made her mumbled and hissed like ghost. Omowumi called her by her favourite name. She was her father's oldest and eldest wife and great reputation was usually associated with her.

"Ah! Omowumi!" Her mouth fell open, raising her head. "You have turned to be a big woman now. Look at her cheeks" She gave a gap-toothed smile and embraced her, beautiful old woman with little wrinkles. This is a woman Omowumi has admired for years. 

She continued by asking of her husband and how she has been coping with the senior wives. 

"Fine. In fact, they are all kind and generous to me" she lied, faking a smile.

When Iya Mogaji thanked the gods about that, she looked at her eyes and saw love there. She was sure it is genuine one. Not the type of love which other step mothers sprout in their heart. She knew Iya Mogaji really love her mother and her. Their cooperation and doing things together for years reinforced this. They don't quarrel with each other, they understand each other, which is strange and a tight puzzle in a polygamous home. There were even nights when Omowumi slept in her room.

And so she told her she came to visit her mother. 

Iya Mogaji pointed at the old woman who just come back to life and laughed teasingly. 

"I know already. I know you come because you have missed her breasts. Go to her oo. And let her breastfeed you" 

Omowumi laughed too. 

"Are you leaving today?"

Omowu nodded. 

"I'm coming" Iya Mogaji turned her back. "There is a bastard snail I am looking for" 

Omowumi's smile faded as she moved towards her mother. Her heart become heavy with words. She carried a low footstool from the fireplace and sat with her mother by the house doorway. 

"You're welcome my daughter. How is your husband doing?" 

She yawned and adjusted her wrapper. 

The word - "your husband" irritated Omowumi and she gave her mother a strange look for the first time. 

"He is fine" she replied after a while. 

Her mother understood everything all. But she persisted. 

"And your senior wives too?" 

Omowumi broke into tears. 

An uneasy silence snatched the moment from the woman and her unhappy daughter. The only sound been made was a goat's tiny bleat from a distant house in the neighbourhood. And Omowumi's constant sobbing. Her mother's head was bowed low now. Something is obvious - her daughter is not happy with her union. And while embracing the fact that she is helpless to her situation a chilly feeling of guilt ran through her, her heart giving a wild thump. She's the cause of her daughter's predicament, oh she is. She should not have allowed her husband's will to prevail. She ought to have stood neck to neck before him, grappling him by the cloth and telling him to do Omowumi's wish. Of course she is grown up and knows the difference between good and bad. But she tried her possible best. Omowumi's mother felt a bit comfortable now. She remembered those efforts attempted to convince her husband. She remembered that midnight she awakened him up and after she sprouted her words her husband hissed and went back to sleep. "Baba Wale really proved being stubborn. I could not persuade him. His heart is made of rock"

And indeed his heart is of rock, if not iron. Days later when Omowumi and her mother were conversing about the matter his father passed by them to the corridor. He wore an angry look. They greeted him but he did not answer. They were floored, mouth agape. As they continued their conversation in low tones, Omowumi pouring out her bitter mind, telling her mother that she would not marry a man she does not love, her father stormed outside, face still solemn, machete in the hand. Omowumi's mother almost fall from the round stone she was sitting out of fear and her daughter's heartbeat was loud as the clock's ticking. One could hear it from inside. With a face that did not look like a father or husband Lamidi said his words:

"I don't know why you two will keep reiterating on matter that had been sealed. I have decreed, nothing else, no going back. You see, all your discussions are but useless. Your mother knows me quite well. You can ask her and she will tell you how firm I can be on decisions I make. You, Omowumi will marry my old friend Akanni." he beat his chest and paused, for a while, maybe to allow the words to sink into their heads. He attempted to talk again but he forbore himself from doing so, turning his back. As he left Omowumi and her mother heard sound of laughter. They knew quite well its direction. They knew it was coming from Arike's room. Lamidi's newest wife. And she was not the only one who was gloating about their situation. Other wives were there except Iya Mogaji. Omowumi's mother ignored them. It was her daughter's issue that riveted her. 

Since that day, Omowumi was convinced of her father's cruelty. Of course he had been cold to her, yes she knows that, everyone knows that, all of her father's wives know that her father is not a soft person. But this is a matter that is attached to her own happiness, her own life. Why on earth would her father did such a thing? 

Thinking about all of these, Omowumi hands trembled. Indeed, the gods are not benevolent to her. She was still swallowed up in silence until her mother drew her close, and she felt warmth of her embrace. A true mother indeed. Omowumi understood all what these mean. Her mother was comforting her, yes, and one more thing. She was telling her to possess spirit of fortitude and patience. She was telling her to remain unflagging even though her happiness seem to be in a critical situation. According to her mother "these little things are but greatest weapon ever with which one can use to wade through the muddy road of life". Her mother has been portraying these to her all these years of course. She has been patient even in the travails of polygamous home she has found herself. This is her greatest fear - the possibility that her daughter would suffer the fate she was suffering.  She always quake at the thought of it. And now as tears gushed from duo's eyes there seem not to be anyone to comfort them, and so they wept long and bitterly, they are tears of haplessness, of anguish, of sore pain and mutual sorrows.

***

Kehinde Adedeji is a young poet and writer. He lives in Ibadan, Oyo state.