The Penitent

Chapter 4

Tinu bursts into the open field beside the chicken coop. "Have you lost your minds?" she shouts. "How can you be practicing at a time like this?"

“Who’s there?” Eniola stammers, looking around her.

Tinu steps into the light. "Our men could be dying right now, and you are here, dancing?”

“Tinu? You scared us. It's not funny,” Bukola says. She is one of two girls Tinu now recognizes; the other is Bisi.

Tinu stomps up to her. “I’m not pranking you. This is serious. You ought to be in the village square getting ready to leave with your teams.”

Eniola hisses. “Going into the forest is a choice. Besides, we give Modekun a sense that things are under control and there's no need to panic by carrying on with our lives.”

“Who said?”

“Aunt Abi.”

“So is that why you’re hiding out here?"

"Who says we're hiding?"

"We've never practised here. Or sung in such low, dreadful voices.”

Remi screams a scream of exasperation. “Get lost, Atinuke. No one here is your subject or your slave. You're not our leader, and we’re not hiding. We’re practising without you. Ow. Does it hurt? Good. Get used to it.

“Even if we were hiding, so what?” Bisi says. “Everyone knows our performances are secrets to be unveiled on carnival day.”

“Not true. We stay hidden from warriors, not the whole village. And they’re not here.”

“Is that what you think?"

“Shut up, Bisi," Remi snaps. "Don’t explain yourself to her. Who does she think she is?” Turning to Tinu, whom she calls by her full name, Atinuke (meaning the 'pampered one'), she says, “Think what you want, we don’t care. Now go away. Scram! Shoo!” She minces away, exaggerating her hip movements.

“You’re all chickens, admit it,” Tinu yells. “You’re the ones who should be in that cage, not those poor hens.”

“Who are you calling a chicken?” Bukola wags her finger in Tinu's face. “Wo, Tinu. Behave yourself. Be very careful.”

“Chicken. Kworr, kworr, kworr.” Tinu squawks like a chicken and flaps her arms.

Kerack!

Bukola’s punch catches her in the jaw.

She reels back, wincing. “You witch.”

Remi and Eniola bear down on her and shove her to the ground. She gets up and, almost immediately, all four attack her, slapping and scratching—and pulling at her hair. It’s too late to run. She's outnumbered. Keeping her head low, she shields her face with a forearm. An uppercut crunches against her face. They poke her in the eye, grab her by the hair, and pull.

"Stop it! You're hurting me," she screams. “Egba mi o. Iya mi o.”

The beating stops.

Three mothers have pulled the girls off her.

She staggers to her feet, scraggly and half-naked from the fray. Her wrapper is shredded in many parts. Her face hurts. But she will not give Remi and her cohorts the satisfaction of seeing her tears, even though Eniola’s siding with them hurt her very much. She strokes her face, feeling for bruises, hoping for small scars her mother will miss. Slipping a finger into her mouth, she licks her front teeth, feeling for gaps or looseness. Not satisfied, she slips a finger in her mouth.

Blood.

There’s blood on her finger.

Mother of Offerings! Her gum is bleeding. Tears stream down her cheeks as she mewls—not from the pain of her wounds, but from the trouble she knows she's in. Her mother will be so angry with her. She will think she disobeyed her and wandered into the forest.

"What is the meaning of this?” Aunt Abi, Remi's mother, shouts at all five girls. “Disturbing the village at a time when our thoughts are elsewhere.”

“Atinuke won't let us practice in peace,” Remi sputters. “She came here to dampen our spirits.”

“Hah,” Tinu says with a clap. “If your spirits aren't damp already, then you can’t be from Modekun.”

“Shut up your mouth,” Aunt Abi barks. “What a horrible thing to say. So you feel you are more Modekun than these other four because you’re a queen carrying this chiefdom on your shoulders. Please, let me hear word.”

Tinu pulls down her split lower lip to show the mothers her red bruise.

“The truth is,” Aunt Abi continues, “you’re upset because the girls are rehearsing without you.”

“No, Aunty. I don’t care—”

“See how she interrupts me?” Aunt Abi says to the other mothers. Turning to Tinu with eyes blazing, she says, “You are a spoiled child. Don’t think we don't see how you like to be the envy of all and take the lead in everything. It’s because you think you’re better than everyone else."

"Can I speak now?" Tinu blurts.

"You crave attention. You want to be the center at all times. And when you’re not, you’re unhappy. All this commotion is happening because the girls were rehearsing without you.”

“It’s not true. I’m not like that.” What could have come over her to make her lash out at her friends like that? She’s typically better restrained. It was most unlike her. Baba Folarin may be right about the strange sky this afternoon and how it was a sign of forces that bring out the worst in people.

Aunt Abi's vehemence stings, but what hurts more are the nods of the other mothers, Iya Bolaji and Iya Ranti. Iya Ranti even says, “We’ve all seen how she likes to gather the little ones to herself, just so she can tell them her useless bedtime stories.“

“Yes,” Iya Bolaji says to Tinu. “My five-year-old spends nights staring at your face while you’re telling stories. Now, my daughter thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

“That’s her plan all along,” Aunt Abi says. “She wants everyone to adore her.”

This is getting crazier. She actually thought Iya Bolaji and Iya Ranti liked her; as for Aunt Abi, she wasn’t so sure. For how long have those two held these grudges? And they choose to express it today? Today of all days. She must steer this conversation back to Remi and her gang before they forget what the fight was about. “I just don't think it’s right for them to be practising—”

“And who cares what you think? Let them be!” Aunt Abi sneers and thrusts her face close to Tinu’s. With most of her bulk concentrated in her upper body—her hips narrower than one might expect—she's a daunting figure leaning forward.

“Tell her, Iya,” Remi says.

“Besides, what else can we do?” Bukola says. “I’m not a warrior. I can't go into that mamba-infested forest. And certainly not at this time of day.”

“Is that so?” Tinu says with an 'aha' in her tone. “Oh? So saving your own skin is where your thoughts lie?”

“See who’s talking.” Remi hisses. “I don’t see you going anywhere.”

“My mother won’t let me, so I'll be going to the shrine to offer prayers to Ogun for our army's safety.”

Aunt Abi mimics Tinu's last utterance in the exact cadence with which she said it, her artistry amusing her audience. “And I bet you want the girls to join you, don’t you? Don’t you?”

Tinu stutters through a ‘no.’

"So that you can take the lead as usual,” Aunt Abi says. “So typical of you. Now get out of my sight before I slap you. Go on. Move. Get out of here. Go to your shrine and pray! Leave this place immediately!”

Battered and ridiculed, Tinu flees without a moment's hesitation.