THE CLOCK

Episode2:A BAD DAY TO REMEMBER

The news of Mama Nwankwo's disappearance had spread like an uncontrollable wild fire in the heart of the harmattan season. Just shortly before dawn, friends and well-wishers had come out to see and hear for themselves. As yet, there had not been any credible clue as to her whereabouts. Rumours went rife and rumour mongers were all about adding spices to any fabricated news they could gather. Worse still, Mama's children were not available to dispel the rumours.

Akamu village was an agricultural community. Although the influence of Western education had made some in-road into the area, traditional norms and observances had not in any way been eroded. Found in the eastern part of Nigeria, Akamu was famous for her agricultural production, which is the mainstay of the people's economy. Every geo-political zone was known for what it could produce and its socio-cultural leanings. Akamu could pride itself with so many attributes and, of course, people acknowledged the fact that apart from moral uprightness for which her people were known, it was, above all, the food basket of the eastern villages across the Niger.

The people of Akamu were known for their entrepreneurial acumen. Although they were not self-sufficient based on what they could produce for sale and subsistence, they still remained the melting pot of trade on farm produce including agro-allied and processed foodstuffs. In fact, Akamu's centripetal force was phenomenal as villages far and near shipped their farm produce to its market for sale, and no trader ever went back home with unsold wares. Such was her popularity that everyone was mystified as to what made Akamu tick.

Although certain factors had been attributed to Akamus popularity, most people believed that there was some hidden mystery behind the whole affair, which supported the mythical claim that the founder of the village, with his followers, performed a ritual at a place, now used as the village square to attract people from near and distant lands to cohabit with him. It was generally believed by oral tradition that he was a great medicine man whose pronouncements never went out in vain. Whatever be the case, the fact remained that Akamu would forever be remembered as the food basket of the people.

Like all the villages of the Igbo tribes, Akamu community had a local calendar of four days in a week; seven weeks in a month; twenty-eight days in a month; and so on. Social and religious practices were conducted on the science of numbers.

Farming activities, festivals, marriages, naming ceremonies, and countless others conformed to the principles of the influence of numbers on human affairs. For example, the four local days of the week were Eke, Orie, Afor, Nkwo. In Igbo cosmology, these were acknowledged pillar forces of their experiences in life. They were believed to be transcendental forces that governed and controlled human lives and activities. Some regarded them as brothers; some, as spiritual patriots; while still some called them primordial guardians. Be that as it may, one thing was certain: the weekdays regulated every aspect of human activities.

Although everyday was like a food exhibition in Akamu, foodstuffs never lacked on sale-stands, Eke was the main market day. It was a very special market day, thick with buyers and sellers and crammed with a conglomeration of foodstuffs and other wares. There were surplus supply goods like yams, garri, plantain, palm-oil, palm-fruits, pepper, okro, potatoes, coco-yams, assorted vegetables, fresh fish, tomatoes, to mention but a few.

On such days as that, one could hear continuous echoes of rumbling voices as people haggle over prices of goods.

Apart from being the people's market day, Eke was also a work-free day when men and women take a break from farm work to rest and celebrate. It was a day of relaxation when people reflected on the activities of the day's past, and made fresh plans on how to forge ahead. It was surprising, therefore, that the next Eke market day, following Mama's purported disappearance, was devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of trade activities.

"Gom-gom-gom-gom!" The gong sounded in the early hours of Eke day, long before dawn, precisely at that time when sleep was sweetest. It was the town crier. His voice could be heard piercing through the quiet darkness. As usual, everyone at hearing distance woke up from sleep to listen to the message that prompted the crier to rise up so early that morning. His words were melodious, but laden with sadness. He sang of a patriot, of a selfless leader, of a personality, who was both a giant in size and in mind. He sang of an inspirer of hope, but, who for unknown reasons, had dashed the people's hopes. He sang and sang until his voice died away in the distance.

Everyone that heard the crier's message knew that all was not well, and that he was alluding to the legendary Mama Nwankwo. The crier had summoned all and sundry to gather at the village square early that morning. He had hinted that the guardian of morality was missing, and had spoken on the urgent need to seek and find her. He eulogized her virtues and her relevance, and urged the people to turn out en masse, if for nothing else, to show that they cared as she had cared for their children and many more.

At dawn, shortly before the sun began to cast out its rays, the village square had been crowded by concerned natives. Even foreigners who had come to sojourn in the land had come out to show solidarity, many of them attesting to the inspirational moral lessons that Mama had inculcated in their children. To crown it all, the head of the village and his high chiefs were the first to set foot on the square ground.

A man called Mazi Okeke was appointed by the community head to speak to the gathering. He rose, cleared his voice and began to speak."Akamu Kwe-nu!" He bellowed, and the entire square reverberated with a responsorial chorus.

"Akamu Kwe-nu!" He cried again with an increasing

crescendo of passion, and the crowd thundered with, "E-!"

"Akamu Kwe-nu!" He shouted a third time, overwhelmed with uncontrollable feelings, and the crowd as usual responded with "E-l!"

Another man called Obiajulu got up and cleared his voice.

He was also appointed by the village head to speak at that occasion. By that time, all murmurs and discussions of any kind had died down completely. As to be expected, he recognized and saluted the gathering in the same traditional style as the first speaker. Although loud, strong and emotion packed, his voice did not convey any more impression than the usual formality exhibited in speech making. For one thing, he had no noise to check, the first speaker having already motivated the crowd and raised their minds to an emotional receptive mood.

"Akamu Kwe-nu!" He said aloud, throwing a great punch into the air, and the crowd thundered their response in the usual fashion. "Today is a black day in the history of the Akamu community. Never in the annals of this village had the cause of a single individual pulled us to this square with such a great magnetic force," he asserted and paused, while the crowd murmured and nodded their heads in agreement.

"People of our land, there is no doubt in my mind that everyone here knows why we are gathered. But for the avoidance of doubt, let me inform you that our leader, Eze Nwagu, has instructed that we announce the strange disappearance of Mama Nwankwo..."

At that, the crowd cried out with grief even though they

had all been aware of the situation. He continued to speak. "We now know the situation, but we can hardly tell the circumstances surrounding the disappearance. One thing we must do at this time---and urgently too---is to shun all rumours and those that peddle them. Of a truth, Mama Nwankwo had no reason to abandon us and opt for self-exile as mongers of rumours had situated. Why? For what reason could she do that?

She is a patriot and we all know that. No one leaves the comfort of his home to dwell in the bush, only a mad person could do that.

Therefore, I tell you: There is more to this than meets the eye. But l can assure you of one thing: Our Eze, and l'm sure, the entire clan, will stop at nothing to solve the puzzle of her disappearance.

Soon, very soon and that task will be done," he concluded.

There was a loud applause as he sat down among his peers. At least, the people had been relieved of their fears.

Already, some members of the crowd were raising their hands to be acknowledged to speak.

"What shape is this search going to take and when will it

start?" A member of the crowd asked.

Getting up with consummate courage, Obiajulu answered:

"Our Eze Nwagu has put every machinery in force for this search.

Today, as soon as we disperse from here, the Eze will send out emissaries to neighbouring villages and those far from here. He has already drafted a legion to comb nearby bushes and forests beyond," he had assured. "What if her disappearance stemmed from a health emergency, shall we not explore that possibility?" A second member of the crowd inquired.

"Yes, that is likely, and we shall look into it. Akamu can boast of countless medicine men. We shall meet with them after this time, and ask them to reach out to their colleagues in search of our illustrious daughter," he answered.

By noon, it was obvious that all that needed to be said had been marshaled out and treated exhaustively. At the end, everyone left with his fingers crossed, waiting for a positive outcome. As Mazi Okeke rightly pointed out in his speech, it was a black day for the people of Akamu. For the first time in history, foodstuffs were littered here and there begging for buyers to price them. Just as men had trooped to the village square to gather as instructed by the village head, women and children had also gone to the family home of Mama Nwankwo to register their grief and comradeship. Traders who had brought their goods from neighbouring communities had been greatly disappointed at the turn of events. They lamented their fate and came to a sorry conclusion that it was truly a bad day to remember.