About The Man Who Never Died

Chapter Seven

People in Ezocha’s time lived up to one hundred new yam seasons and above, and could still jump over bamboo fences and do menial farm jobs. At that period, men still yearned for adventures. A story was told about an old man from Nsukka who had four wives and pleaded with his children to get him another one, a new wife who would nurse his old age. The young maiden who reluctantly agreed never had it coming that Arua, her aged husband, could still be moved by a woman until three full moon periods passed without her flower blossoming. It was unthinkable! Nobody could believe, she too didn't think, that the old, weary looking man could still have so powerful a stamina to satisfy a woman!

A man could get old but not age in his third leg, such was the belief and proverb. Satisfaction was the same as potency.

In his old age, Ezocha had children and grandchildren in abundance and servants, which he got from different places. He had several wives and concubines who took turns to come to his hut and keep him warm every night, each for a separate market day of the Igbo week —Nkwo, Eke, Orie and Afor. The women knew amongst themselves who was to attend to him on Nkwo day, Nwanyi Nkwo or the woman for Eke market day. Women were not jealous of their husband’s concubines; each understood their roles and positions.

Ezocha had seen it all. He had conquered territories and done exploits from his youthful days up until this time. He had seen his grandchildren to their youthful days too. Then a special day came.

It drizzled lightly that day, and then suddenly came a harsh sun. Outside, the sun was hot as usual in Elugwu-Ezike, but the mountain breeze cooled the air. Ezocha in an unusual manner mounted his horse to set out for a journey. Yes, a journey. He had the full set of his ancient golden ring in his fingers and feet. He carried his sheath with his warring sword drawn inside and also a wooden spear and strongly weaved shield made from palm frond to curb and subdue the spear from the enemies on the way. He wore his best leopard skin on his waist and the other sewn by one of his servants, opened at one end on top to allow his right hand entrance and his left hand to rest on top of the other side. Only affluent men and women had the privilege of wearing and changing animal skins like him. But in his own case, Ezocha didn't just wear any animal skin, but leopard skin.

He had ridden past his youngest wife’s hut when he remembered that it was Afor market day of which he was to enter the sacred place of his deity. He stood smiling at the radiation of the beauty he saw in her and the thought that she willingly accepted to be his wife because of his wit. ''Obunokwu,'' he called out referring to her position as the last wife.

“Nna m," she answered, “What would you have me do?”

“Do I have food to eat?”

She knew that he was teasing her and she wittingly answered, “I don't have the ordinary food, but I can offer you the real food; which do you want?”

“Hahahaha... I have grown old by the day, can I still impregnate a woman?” He was looking at her affectionately.

“My husband, you're my world, and not the youngest maiden in Ezike Oba can resist your romantic touch.”

She then walked about the compound and danced for him.

“I wish I was still in my youthful age, I would have drawn water from your stream of nature," Ezocha said, smiling this time, opening his sets of teeth that had turned brown with a mixture of black.

“What does my husband want from me?”

“You won't understand, or is this the last time you are seeing me?”

“Never my husband, you will live for us.”

Others might have fallen for his bravery and popularity but not his youngest wife. She loved him. He loved her too. He used gifts to win her affection. How he wished that he was still young. He smiled again. This time, his mind traveled back to his first wife. He loved her too, she was the wife of his youth after all. However, the remarkable thing about his Obunokwu, the youngest wife, was that she made him believe in love again. For the first time in his life, he felt his body melting and falling away from him. Their love life was the envy of the other wives, even though they had stopped coming over to his hut. They said they were old and he had no other option than to add another person to them. Their enviable love life had on one occasion driven his second wife to sneak into his hut severally. His first wife was the first to lay a complaint and render a suggestion in that regard.

''Nnaanyi, I have become an old woman and can no longer be coming to your hut, if it's too bad I can find you a woman who will be rubbing your chest and warming your bed when your blood is hot,'' she said this the morning after Ezocha waited for her in his hut throughout the night but she didn't show up as promised.

“How can my wife be old for me!” He flared up.

“Of what use is the i*********e again when we have finished our childbearing? I have stopped seeing my monthly flow and cannot be coming over to your hut anymore.”

He didn't contest it with her, for he knew that he had lost this battle. Women in his days were fond of turning their husbands down immediately their monthly flows stopped. Of course, they all knew that they were not old. They might simply have learned it from either their mothers or friends that the cultural thing to do was to stop giving their bodies to their husbands after child bearing. This would place them highly and enable them maintain status with the women they looked up to. This was difficult to bear on the part of the men.

Ezocha would watch his wife walk around in the compound, but the thought that he wouldn't have her made him powerless. Women were never jealous when it came to sharing their husbands with other women, in as much as they were aware of the relationship. In fact, usually they made it a duty to find a wife or concubine for their husbands. Ezocha was not left out in this, as his first wife took pity on him and decided to suggest the thought of another wife. This worked perfectly well! He had not forgotten about this while he walked past his wife's hut. It made him love her the more, naturally.

This time, Ezocha rode back to his obi to speak to his wives. He stopped at the entrance, close to his huts and tied his horse to the compound defensive wall made with palm fronds and grasses fastened to a line of trees planted around the compound. The wall was constructed around the compound to give the inhabitants some sorts of securities. However, the perimeter walls of Elugwu-Ezike compounds were a far cry from any attempt to build defensive walls, with some of them being made of palm fronds, mud and wattle, some only of mud and some even of grasses and twigs. They were rarely higher than the height of an average man. It could be said that they actually made the walls, uho, to prevent outsiders and passersby from intruding into the internal affairs of the house. Some also used it as a see-through to monitor people coming into their huts without being noticed or seen. Even if the defensive walls constructed by Elugwu-Ezike people didn't wholly provide security against attacks, it did socially.

After Ezocha had tied his horse to the stem of an ogbu tree, he called out to his obiloko, the first wife, asking after the Okpala, the first son of his household.

“Nna anyi, this one you are calling me with so much vigour in your voice, are we safe?” That was a sarcastic way of answering or responding to a call by elderly people.

“Today is Afor market day," Ezocha said in a manner depicting that he had something deep to communicate.

Obiloko turned to stare at him, “What about the market?” It sounded more sarcastic this time, for she knew that it might have one thing or the other to do with his deity.

“I want any of your sons to go and observe the traditional rites at the hallowed place of my shrine.”

This, his wife refused and flared up insisting that her children would never have anything to do with such powerful deity; she lied that her sons went to war. Ezocha only stared at her and nodded instead of mumbling in rage. He went forward and said a few words, ending with, “may they never run away from trouble.” The other wife he later went to her hut misrepresented that her son went to the farm to plant cocoyam and he said again, “cocoyam will always grow in their farms and even where they did not plant them.” This he did serially, blessing his sons one after the other. He went and instructed one of his servants, empowering him to go and help him perform the rites at his shrine. He then made a decree that no son from his groin would man the affairs of his deity from that day. Obidike volunteered to be of help.

He was set to mount his horse and leave when his daughter in-law, the wife of Odumogwu, his son, reminded him of his blessings for her sons. There stood Opu and Ida who were now growing into adults. They were still tender at that time in the real sense of maturity. He came close to them and thoughtfully looked around the environment.

“You both shall grow to become wealthy, powerful and popular. You shall increase in number to the extent of competing for powers among you.” This he said with his soul having caught a glimpse of what might be of his household in the future. Yes. Maybe he had seen the future. After this statement he mounted his horse, and as the horse began to gallop, he stared at his compound for the last time, at the people and at the journey ahead of him. He rode off southwards of Elugwu-Ezike community towards the direction that would later become Umudia community, the land of the sons and daughters of Ida, his grandson.

Ezocha was a man who respected family a great deal, his fondness of his children and his wives concretised that. His father always told him that family came first before the crown and fame. He also knew of Ujah, a man who was asked to go to Igala land and collect a chieftaincy title that would make him an eze - a king, but he refused simply because their father had just died and he had to stay and take care of the position of ishi okpala, the first son of the family.

“Uroko my brother, you have to go to Igala and be crowned a chief for us, I cherish family first before power and fame; when the family is secured, we can talk about other things," Ujah told his younger brother.

“B-r-rother," Uroko called him, his tongue a little too heavy in his mouth. What he just heard made it so. He was both surprised and confused. “Are you sure about this decision? You are expected to go and bring back the chieftaincy, you know?"

“Uroko, my brother, when you come of age you will understand somethings...” He paused and placed his hand across Uroko's shoulder, then continued. “We fight for power to secure our family. When you go to Igala land and come back with the ekwa title, you may have opened a door for the success of the family across borders, but never you place the crown you receive from a foreign land above the family you have. And don't take any decision that favours Igala to the detriment of Elugwu-Ezike. Go there, I will be here waiting for you to bring back the ekwa drum of power while attending to our farms and welfare.” Ekwa was a drum collected from the Igala kingdom in recognition of one's contribution to their people, it was also indirectly given in recognition of one's effort in the projection of Attah Igala's kingdom and dynasty in Elugwu-Ezike. The drum was beaten for the person to dance after which it was handed over to him to return to his homeland. Sometimes, the Attah's palace sent delegates to crown the person at home. It wasn't beaten regularly like any other talking drums as it was a solemn moment to behold the men who beat and danced to the rhythm. Ekwa drum was a symbol of greatness and good interethnic relationship among the Igala and the Igbo people living at the borders.

“Everything we do is for the family," Uroko found words to speak.

“Family first," Ujah said finally and bade his brother farewell.

Ezocha never lost sight of that and his family blossomed like the palm tree. He knew quite clearly that power was never used to intimidate one's family or community.