For the next four days, delegates from the capital and the elders of Ilale kept coming to her father’s compound to discuss the details of their new alliance with the Ariwa men. This kept Bukunmi away from her father’s presence until the evening of the fourth day, when she decided to seize the bull by the horn and approach him in his room.
He was about to retire to bed when she came into his chambers. He asked her to sit down, sang her praises, and discussed mundane topics with her, before Bukunmi decided to be straightforward.
“Father, do you hate me so much? Why are you planning on giving me to those strangers? You do not even know anything about them and their strange customs. What if he takes me across the river, to their lands, only to have me sacrificed to their strange god?”
Ajanaku looked her in the eyes before responding. “Shehu Danta is now a citizen of our land. He has agreed to remain here with you. He is rich, good, and we need his army.”
“For what Father? For what? The war is over and you need not his men anymore. Do you know what he was doing during your absence to Ede?” Bukunmi pleaded.
Ajanaku’s expression was losing its softness. “The war is not over Olubukunmi. Shehu Danta has agreed to fight with Ilale and extract our freedom from the clutches of Ajeji Kingdom. We will be an independent nation and I will be the leader. You know what that makes you? A princess.”
“I don’t want to be a princess.” Bukunmi implored. “Don’t you feel it is all too good to be true? You do not know this man’s ulterior motive. What if…”
“Silence Bukunmi.” Ajanaku roared. “You will marry Shehu Danta and you will be happy. Do you hear me? Now go to your room and speak nothing more of this matter.”
Bukunmi stared shell-shocked at her father. He was not lax with her discipline, quite the contrary actually. But he was not harsh, and he rarely raised his voice to bark commands at her. Bukunmi’s heart broke, as she stared at the now strange man in front of her.
“Bukunmi!” He thundered again.
She looked down meekly, eager to escape his suffocating prescence. “Father?”
“Did I make myself clear?”
She nodded.
“I can’t hear you.” Ajanaku was looking at her with none of the warmth he usually reserved for her.
“Yes Father.” She whispered.
The tears rolled down Bukunmi’s cheeks as she made her way out of her father’s chambers and out of the main building. She crept quietly, watching out for the guards, before she made her way to the back of the kitchen, in the dead of the night.
She was not disappointed. He was waiting for her there; her lover. No words were spoken, because he understood the meaning of her tears. Under the shady crescent moon, they undressed each other feverishly, before laying down on the banana leaves set for the occasion.
She was not going to lose her virginity to the Ariwa man. Never!
***
“Keep up Bukunmi.” Agbonyin called out to her.
Bukunmi placed a hand on her swollen belly, looked back at the town they were leaving behind, and wondered if she would ever see it again. They called her pregnancy forbidden and disgraceful, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she had something to remind her of him; her lover.
She would put to bed soon enough, it had been nine months since their love-making at the back of the kitchen. Within that period, Ilale had fought and won their independence away from Ajeji kingdom. They were now an independent land.
The war hadn’t been an easy one, and Ilale suffered great casualty, but theirs could not be compared with the number of casualty that Ajeji Kingdom suffered. It was quite ironic that a Kingdom like Ajeji, with several towns under its command could not win a war against a mediocre town like Ilale. It was simply unfortunate that a ton of the best warriors in Ajeji were away on other assignments; trying to conquer surrounding villages and settlements.
After the war, her pregnancy was discovered, and Shehu Danta rejected her as a bride, while her father disowned her. No one wanted to be associated with her shame, but Agbonyin and her family had taken her in by the river bank.
It wasn’t as if her mother wanted nothing to do with her, but being under Ajanaku’s roof meant that one couldn’t disobey his command. Bukunmi had been shocked and pained to discover Ajanaku had no love lost for her once she was no longer useful to him. The slap of reality had stung, but it had shown her that anyone could turn on her at any moment.
To everyone’s surprise but Bukunmi and her new family, Shehu Danta declared war against Ajanaku, and won. He declared himself the new Emir of Ilale, and proclaimed his allegiance to the sultan of the land he came from. It was a sad day, and Bukunmi could imagine the look on her father’s face when he realized his own men had turned against him. He had sold his birthright and his children’s own to the Ariwa men, in exchange for power that he could not enjoy.
In the dead of the night, a secret messenger came with the news that Emir Danta was slaughtering all the known relatives of Ajanaku, because he wanted no contender for the throne. Agbonyin and her family had packed up that same night, and they made their way sneakily out of town through the old forgotten paths.
Ajeji could not come to their defense anymore. They already seceded themselves from its rulers.
Agbonyi came towards a sad-looking Bukunmi. “Bukunmi, we have to move now. Danta’s men must have realized we are no longer by the river bank.”
Bukunmi was silent, as she stared back at the direction they came from.
“I know you miss the town, but is your stolen birthright worth dying for? What about your child?” Agbonyin pressed on.
A tear made its way down Bukunmi’s left cheek. Agbonyin caught it with a thumb and drew her friend in a hug. “I’m sorry Bukunmi. Let’s go.”
Bukunmi finally let herself be led away from the spot. They continued out of town in silence, while Agbonyin’s family took the lead. When they were well out of the boundaries of Ilale, they stopped to make camp by the bank of the Oya River running through the neighboring town. They said it was called Yagba.
While the others rested and ate, Bukunmi sat by the river bank, thinking about the past and all she had lost. Even though he had cast away so cruelly, Bukunmi couldn’t help but miss her father. For all his faults, Ajanaku was actually a good father to her; until she outlived her usefulness. She missed the warmth of her mother’s body. She missed playing with the twins. She even missed the girls at the square and stream.
So lost in thoughts was she that she did not hear the ongoing ruckus behind her. By the time she realized what was going on, she was already surrounded by the narrow nosed, and long-legged men she thought she had left behind.
Seeing the shock on her face, their leader laughed, while wiping his bloody blade on the sleeve of his garment. She recognized him. He was one of the men that initially followed Shehu Danta to her father’s compound. The glint in his eyes wasn’t always there, but Bukunmi knew she was the one that chose not to see it before.
“Did you really think you could escape from Emir Danta?” He asked. “Ilale belongs to us now, and we aim to tie all loose ends.”
Bukunmi’s blood ran cold as he approached her with a cold smile. She was not afraid. She was not even sure her spirit was in the earthly realm anymore.
“Any last word, you infidel whore?” He asked her with a malicious grin.
She could only whisper it, but he heard her nonetheless.
“Why?”
He moved behind her, his blade at her throat, bent and whispered to her before slicing the throat and spurting blood on the cold, sandy bank of the river.
“Ajanaku.” The word rang through the air.
Glossary
Ayo: A carved wooden game with twelve holes, six holes on each side, and 48 seeds.
Bashorun: A high chief, second in title to a king
Kakanfo: The military commander
Ifa: The oracle
Osun: A river goddess
Orunmila: god of ifa
Aso-oke: Hand-woven thick clothing material
Agbalumo: African-star apple or cherry
Oya: Niger
Babalawo: Soothsayer
Aran: Velvet clothing for the rich
Iyan: Pounded yam
Ariwa: North
Oodua: The father of Yorubas
Kembe: Three-quarter baggy trousers
Buba: Male or female blouse
Oriki: Praises composed for a particular person.
