The hut was very hot; it was a humid day, but the atmosphere was radiating heat, in fact, scorching. Bukunmi rolled on the uncomfortable mat and cursed under her breath, as she bemoaned her seemingly excruciating circumstance.
If she strained and listened to the sounds coming from the other compounds in their vicinity, she would hear children laughing and quarrelling, young men arguing over a game of ayo, and her own age mates singing or dropping gossips about the latest migrants in their small town.
Unfortunately, being the only daughter out of seven children, meant that her parents, particularly her father, were very strict with her upbringing. Yes, they allowed her mingle with her peers, but on days like this particular day, they kept her inside the compound, so that they might call on her and parade her youthful beauty to the lecherous eyes of the ever-salivating guests.
Ariyike, her mother was an outstanding beauty in her youthful days. Traces of that old beauty could still be seen on her now weary and line-stricken face. Being the most beautiful maiden of her time meant that she was fit for a prince, a Bashorun, or her husband’s current position; a Kakanfo. An Aare Ona Kakanfo was the military commander of the armies of the different towns that made up the glorious Ajeji Kingdom.
Ajanaku was the only son of the old Kakanfo of Ilale, and he was trained in the hard arts of war, strategies, and peace-making. As a gift for the wonderful pillages made by the old Kakanfo, the king presented Ariyike, the most beautiful maiden as a gift to his general. The old man saw no need for a child bride, so he gave the beautiful girl to his son in marriage. Once his father died, the Oba of Ajeji Kingdom automatically made Ajanaku the new Kakanfo of Ilale town.
Unfortunately, Ariyike could not produce children, no matter how hard they tried. They consulted ifa, but they were told to be patient. Ariyike made the tedious journey of five days from Ilale to Obokun, the home of Osun, the giver of children, but it was all for naught. They made countless sacrifices to all the gods they knew, but none answered them.
To save face and ensure the continuity of his lineage, Ajanaku took another wife; Ariyike’s younger sister, Morenike.
To the glory of the gods, and as an attestation to the prowess of Ajanaku himself, his new wife gave birth to a set of male twins at her first pregnancy. The next two came in successions, and they were also boys. Morenike knew how important it was to have given a Kakanfo a herd of sons to carry on his legacy, especially at a time when women were just bargaining chips.
Finally, the gods decided to answer Ariyike, and she conceived in her ninth year of marriage to Ajanaku. The pregnancy was not an easy one. She had to stay in bed after her first trimester, while the traditional healers came and went. It was no secret that she was still Ajanaku’s heartthrob, and his fifth child was growing with difficulty, in her belly.
The fifth child turned out to be a girl, the replica of her mother. Right from birth, the child had beautiful eyes, skin the color of earth bronze, dark and luxurious hair, and a nose that was reputed to have been carved by Osun herself. Ariyike knew the gods had blessed her indeed, so she named the child Olubukunmi. Two years after Bukunmi, Morenike produced another set of male twins, before Orunmila finally tied her womb.
Bukunmi grew under the watchful eyes of her parents and the whole town; after all, the Kakanfo’s children were also the children of the villagers. She knew her father had a special fondness for her, probably because she looked so much like her mother, his very beautiful senior wife.
Being a Kakanfo came with mouth-watering perks, and one of them included the large palatial compound inhabited by Ajanaku, his wives, his children, his slaves, and guards. His main building was a rectangular mud structure with a spacious courtyard and tightly thatched raffia roof. He had a room to himself, while Ariyike and Bukunmi stayed in one. Morenike and her personal maid servant took one, while the unmarried younger twin boys lived in one. The slaves and guards had to make do with two big huts at the rear end of the compound, close to the kitchen and the outhouses for bathing and stooling.
Bukunmi sat up on the mat, loosened the tight aso-oke wrapper tied to her chest, and started using the edges as a fan, though it did little to ease the heat in the poorly ventilated hut. The hut she shared with her mother only had one tiny window at the back, and it was not letting in enough hair that hot afternoon.
She was supposed to be on the other side of the wall with her friends, or having a tete-a-tete with one of the female slaves under the big agbalumo tree by the entrance of the compound. Unfortunately, that particular tree was occupied by her father, the town elders, the King’s representatives, and the new stranger in town.
Bukunmi did not know much about the new stranger, other than his unusual name, unusual appearance, and strange beliefs. They called him Shehu Danta. He arrived in Ilale from the northern side, which was strange because the river Oya bordered Ilale on the North. The strange man had crossed the great river with his slaves and fellow Masters.
Ilale had their own share of tall men, but Danta and his men were taller than most men in Ilale and the whole Ajeji Kingdom. They were light skinned with narrow noses, and they did not speak the common tongue in Ajeji. Only Danta spoke Ajeji language, but even he had a funny way of pronouncing most words. They were also rumored to practice strange beliefs including facing the east to pray five times daily.
Bukunmi only heard snippets of the slaves’ conversations earlier in the day, but it seemed like the king sent his emissaries to discuss with the Kakanfo and the strangers, to find out their reasons and intents for coming to Ajeji.
Bukunmi hated the act of locking her in her mother’s hut anytime important male visitors came knocking. Only, it was a common occurrence, given her father’s important position. She knew they were hoping to find her a worthy suitor amongst the great men that never stopped visiting, but Bukunmi couldn’t help but feel like a piece of meat, anytime they were around.
She peered at her bare chest. Her heart swelled with pride when she saw the round, firm, and standing mounds peeking back at her. She had seen enough breasts at the stream for her to know a lot of maidens coveted the shape and size of her moderate but attractive breasts. At 17, Bukunmi was ripe for marriage, but she did not want any of the men she knew her father was bound to throw at her.
She was a smart girl. She knew the shame for not being a virgin at the time of marriage would not only harm her, but would probably send her frail mother to an early grave. So, her clandestine meetings with her lover never passed the occasional fondling of her sensitive breasts, and holding each other in the presence of one witness; the moonlight.
Lost in thoughts of her weekly rendezvous, her hand slowly descended on her hardened nipples with flourish. She rolled one attentive nipple in her fingers and moaned silently from the weight of the pleasure she was giving herself. Her body, slick with sweat from the excessive heat, teased her to descend even lower.
The heavy handcrafted wooden door slid open slowly, jarring her from her lustful pastime. Hurriedly, she tied her wrapper to her chest and tried to maintain an expression of demureness. Her mother came into the room, stood still, and surveyed the room with a glint of suspicion written clearly in her eyes.
The smell of smoke and the tantalizing aroma of cooking meat stuck to her body and clothes, because they followed her into the tiny room.
“What were you doing?” Ariyike’s masculine voice asked.
