White Men In Black Skin

Origins of Black People-2

She stared at her father in disbelief as he spoke. His suggestion to bring a stranger in their midst felt like a treacherous betrayal and a stab at her back. Her mind momentarily went blank but alcohol soothed her fury.

Surprisingly she calmly advised Nuhu to seek Asiana and Uropa’s views before deciding to bring a stranger into their fold. Nuhu was even more surprised because he had never witnessed Afrikania offering such rational suggestions. He however, reassured her that he was just kidding. But her father’s insinuation to remarry had sent such shocking shudder in her mind that she instantly decided to stop her father fast and by any means from going on his trip lest he brought home a strange woman.

One early morning, Afrikania sneaked into the bushes carrying a large empty bag, a calabash and a sharp machete. Her late mother who was a renowned, skilled healer and herbalist had taught Afrikania the effects of all harmful and useful plants, animals, reptiles, insects and other living creatures.

In the bushes, she collected poppy seeds, flowers and leaves of hemp plants, chopped off pieces of bark from a blue‑gum tree and an assortment of roots, leaves, flowers and seeds of many other plants. She killed a toad, a giant chameleon, and a rattlesnake. She managed to cut the throat of a huge rodent for its blood, which she drained into the calabash. It was a hectic day because she did not want anybody to find out what she was up to.

Back at home, she put her collection in a cauldron to boil. She pricked her finger and dripped her blood in the boiling mixture. As the concoction boiled, she chanted and mumbled verses she had learned from her mother, holding a human skull and wore black hood as she performed black magic the way her mother had taught her. Her mother had warned her never to use black magic on relatives and friends. She drained the concoction in a container and buried the murky residue in the backyard where nobody could find it.

She was sure the dark brownish concoction with its pungent, acrid smell was potent. The charm would blend well and taste nice in the sweet honey wine.

Her mother had taught her how to make charms out of various concoctions for purposes such as curing diseases, treating snake bites, antidotes, love portions and even for poisoning enemies. Although love portion was not harmful, her mother had cautioned her that if wrongly prepared and administered it could cause severe mental damage turning the victim into an i***t or even a permanent zombie.

The charm she had already prepared was for taming straying and errant husbands. It was safe and suitable for dazing the mind. It also produced love sensations necessary to keep lewd husbands at home. According to her mother the characteristics of effective love portion was drowsiness, drunken behavior, hallucinations and a bit of confusion. Anyone under the spell of such substances could easily be manipulated because the mind worked very slowly. Her mother who used to supply such concoctions to other women had told her that love portions were women’s ultimate weapons of power, which made men stupidly vulnerable. She was proud to have successfully processed what she fondly called “afrikania love portion”.

Myth had it that poppy seeds produced hallucinatory effects in the mind, while the hemp flowers and leaves made the mind travel in paradise. Chameleon products slowed the mind to a “chameleon pace”. The rodent’s blood, the toad’s and rattle snake’s organs gave the concoction the necessary spell, while other ingredients of herbs, roots and barks of trees produced the necessary colour, flavour and taste. She smiled triumphantly at her pungent smelling concoction.

Nuhu stored his mead in large ancient casks inherited from his ancestors. Nobody knew the ages of the casks. Not even his late grandfather. Due to their age, the casks made liquour mature very well and fast. Within seven days he would set off on his long journey. He made enough brew to last him the entire return trip.

He was not an irresponsible drinker. He only took his brew after work. While traveling, he usually took swigs at intervals to rejuvenate vitality. Alcohol gave the body great impetus, enabling him to travel great distances without getting exhausted. He could not endure physical work without alcohol. His three camels and five donkeys were in good shape to travel while loaded to capacity with trade merchandise.

In his long absence, Uropa would be in charge, although it was the responsibility of every daughter to take care of her assigned roles. They had completed harvesting and stored away all the crops. They had also prepared the fields for the next planting season. There was not much work in the fields except looking after livestock. Nuhu usually traveled after all the fieldwork was done and to be back before the planting rains set in. He had confidence in his highly dedicated daughters and hoped he could find as highly dedicated suitors for them.

CHAPTER THREE

His liqour brewery and store was an isolated hut further from the main house. Afrikania who spent most of the time at home had furtive access to the liqour barrels in the store. She clandestinely sampled the contents of the barrels and precisely knew which barrels contained the best‑matured brew. The largest cask contained the best brew ever made by her father. It was the beverage Nuhu was to take in several calabashes on his long trip. The honey‑wine was so mature that it bubbled and foamed with gurgling and hissing sound. It emitted such overwhelming aromatic gasses that Afrikania could not resist scooping some in a goblet and took a long swig. Her whole body shuddered with sudden warmth as the alcohol instantly rushed in her veins. Her mind lit up as she drew some more and gobbled it at a go. She sighed with relief as she continued quenching her thirst. As she took the last swallow, she filled a large gourd for her later use. She replenished whatever she had drunk with the contents of other barrels so that Nuhu did not notice any deficiency in his favorite barrel.

As she was about to walk out, she pulled out a small container and emptied its contents into the barrel containing Nuhu’s best brew and stirred it with a long stick that he used to stir the brew as it fermented. She knew her father would sample taste the contents of that barrel first for maturity. She sneaked out of the liqour store unnoticed.

It was Nuhu’s tradition to consult the oracle before embarking on a long trip. It was half a day’s journey up the hills where the divine oracle dwelt. The oracle’s medium was an extremely old woman whose age no one knew, who lived in the dark caves, which were invested with vampires, rattlesnakes, cobras and giant black spiders up in the hills. Generations and generations had been consulting the oracle to tell their fortunes. No one was ever sure whether the obscure old woman was a human being or a ghost since she had been there for ages.

Nuhu woke up earlier than usual. He took with him a spotlessly white fat he‑goat, a cockerel, a calabash of his best wine and foodstuffs. He reached the caves in the mid‑ morning. He sat under the shrine tree and slaughtered the white cockerel. The shrieks of the dying cockerel brought the old woman out of the caves. She peered and grinned with glee. She rushed swiftly towards the smoldering sacrifice and without a word to Nuhu grabbed the goat and other offerings, then skulked back into the caves. Nuhu waited patiently. He was confident and satisfied that the offerings and libation had been accepted. He knew that the more acceptable the sacrifice the more accurate and reliable would be the soothsaying. The oracle had neither misled his ancestors nor himself. The oracle had accurately foretold the coming of the floods and the scorching plagues, which wiped out the entire population together with his parents and other relatives.

Sparsely dressed in animal skins, she glided out of the caves, sat on her ritual stone and listened intently, screened by some fog. It was impossible to discern her clearly. However, after intoning the spirits of his ancestors, the gods of the hills, and the gods of bounty, Nuhu explained that he was about to set out on a long mission and was beseeching the advice, wisdom, guidance and the blessings of the divine ones. The ageless soothsayer listened drowsily as Nuhu spoke in monotone as if in prayer. She rose with surprising agility and retreated into the caves as soon as Nuhu ceased talking.

She emerged once more from the foggy caves with disheartening tidings. She warned Nuhu of impending sinister happening and some disaster in his household. She implored him to return after seven days, by which time she would have traveled into the future to consult with the gods the cause of the impending disaster in Nuhu’s household. He was only to bring a large calabash of the strongest honey brew, a brown fat he‑goat without horns, two huge cockerels, one white and the other black.

For the first time, Nuhu doubted the soothsayer and was ready to defy her. It seemed she was just interested in eating his goats and poultry. He had no wish to consult the oracle again. He had to travel with or without the blessings of the gods, so as to be back before the planting rains set in. He could not wait for a week. He shook his head with disappointment and frustrations. He felt exhausted and stressed as he descended the hills. He was anxious to get home and relax with bouts of his best brew for consolation. He had never had such a depressing and disheartening visit to the oracle. His mind which was as foggy as the mist shrouding the oracle caves could only be cleared with long bouts of his most potent brew.

He did not wish his daughters to notice his sulky moods when he got home after midday. He therefore, headed straight for his liqour store. He badly needed a drink to quench his parching thirst, relax and clear his tense mind. He pulled a long wooden rod and stirred the bubbling contents of the largest barrel. The warm stinging smell of alcohol was so soothing and reassuring that his face beamed. He relaxed on his wooden stool and took a deep breath as he gulped the liqour. He wiped dregs of the brew from his mouth with the back of his hand between long swallows.

Nuhu usually drank his liqour from a large bull’s horn. The long and frequent use of the horn had made it develop qualities that made alcoholic drinks taste and smell rich.

Although he never drank irresponsibly, the frustrations caused by the old cave‑woman accelerated his intake of alcohol. He drank so fast that he got drunk very rapidly. He missed his father with whom he used to share the brew, chatting and singing folklores. He burst into one of such familiar folk songs as the alcohol took control of his mind. He laughed mirthlessly as he belched the song at the top of his voice. Uropa and Asiana were taken aback because they had never known their father singing and laughing at the same time so loudly. Nuhu felt the urge to invite his daughters for the drink. He felt unusually high and exuberant. After some more horn‑fulls of the brew, he lost track of where he was or what he was doing. His mind was blazing and swirling with wild hallucinations. The world was turning round and round and the ground shifted under his feet. He felt terrified. He was not in control of his faculties anymore. Suddenly he was enveloped in pitch darkness.

Before he blacked out, he felt a great urge to go to sleep. He therefore stripped n***d ready to go to bed but vaguely realized he was still in the liqour store. Forgetting to put on his garments, he staggered out of the liqour store headed for his main house, stark n***d.