Wale and the Little Moonlight

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Seven days had gone by, the memory of the invaders and the victory at the great river Omini still remained a thing of mixed feeling and awe to Ogunta. But, to Folusho, the wellbeing of her dear son was worth more than a thousand songs of war victory, or any concern of any sort.

“Come in Wale, come and have your evening meal. Come in before it gets cold”. Folusho tried to persuade.

For a moment, Wale behaved as though he never heard her.

“Come in and eat my son, its egusi soup and pounded yam, the type you like”. She persuaded harder, approaching him in worried look.

“I will have my meal mother even before it gets cold”. He finally broke the worrisome silence. “Don’t come too close mother”, he warned.

Folusho instinctively, as though pulled back by supernatural force, retraced her steps. She knew and could read every tune and tone of her son’s voice. This was not a tone to disregard; although she really had become disturbed over her son’s new habit of denying himself food and water, sitting outside alone without talking or at least, working on one thing or the other. Since after the night of the celebration of the victory at the great Omini, Wale had been this way.

“Come in woman. Leave him alone, he is now a man. He knows what he is doing. Can’t you see he is in deep meditation?” Kehinde said as Folusho came close to the door again.

“Meditation?” Folusho responded inquisitively as she lifted her hanging face to look into her husband’s eyes.

“Yes, not only do I think, but I also know that the gods are preparing him for something. He is communing with them, that is why he cannot eat or drink anything that fattens the body”. Kehinde explained.

“If you say so my husband”. Folusho responded in a somewhat satisfactory tone, “then let the gods guide him well”.

“They will, my woman. You can get some rest”. Kehinde said smilingly as if he was happy to see his son in such an austere mood—perhaps, he was; perhaps he was absolutely convinced of what he knew. So, he stood by the door for a while watching his son and smiling as he gently swung his head after the rhythm of the joy in his heart. “The gods are indeed with you my son” he soliloquised as he went inside the hut.

Not too long afterwards, Wale, just as he promised her mother, went into the hut, straight to his meal, took a sip of water, and then devoured every ounce of what was in the plates. The hotness of the meal could not match with the hunger in his belly.

Later at night, unknown to his parents or anyone, he walked quietly out of the house. Then he ran, he ran back to the blood-flooded great Omini. He walked into the river, in the glaring light of the Moon, he searched among the beheaded bodies and their heads, and found what he wanted.

He returned home with the heads of the two alien leaders, and quietly went into his chambers. The next day he would hang them each on a stake at Ogunta square for the heat of the sun to dry them till they turned to mere skulls. This he reasoned, but he failed to consider  if or not  the Oba, the chief priest, all the whole of Ogunta would like the idea.

“I am Wale; I will dry their heads up in the sun, and use their skulls as seat and or cup”. He prided himself in the valour of his name.

The following morning with its new light and hope was not going to change a thing on Wale’s mind—not even a thing out of the many things he had conceived the previous night. With the glaring rays of the sun, the whole of Ogunta was made to stand still at the sight of Wale, the stakes, and the heads in his hands, heading towards Ogunta square.

“May the gods be wiser than men as always!” An elderly voice spoke.  The man, like everyone, was disturbed at this strange sight.

Wale walked the whole path to the square without even an utterance to disturbing chirping of the morning birds that filled the air.

“Even our ancestors are grumbling through the birds”. Another voice came, yet it was as good as the loud silence.

Wale got to his destination, and had his wish done. As soon as the news got to the chief priest, he hurriedly chased after him with his servants. As soon as the news got the Oba, he sent his guards to stop him. As soon as the news got to Wale’s father, he smiled and was at ease, but that made Wale’s mother most worried.

The chief priest with his servants and the royal guards met themselves at a crossroads where Wale was caught in between.

“We thought we knew you Wale, yet how wrong we were.” The chief priest yelled.

“The Oba summons you at the palace”. The leader of the royal guards declared.

Without a word and any act of rebellion, Wale followed the leading of the royal guards, and the chief priest and his servants walked behind them chanting the rhythm of the wrath of the gods. The whole of Ogunta, was again made to stand still at the sight of this tense scenario. At the palace, the nature of Wale’s few-word-ness was not in any way altered by the fierce outburst of the Oba’s bile.

“What evil do you intend to bring upon us by this sacrilegious act of yours?” The Oba yelled, “have we not suffered yet too many things already in so little time? Yes, your valour brought us victory at the great Omini, and for this we sing your praises and we will continue to sing your name even on the lips of a thousand and thousand generations. But what have we to do with this curse you are about to curse?”

 Known for his ability to speak more than a thousand words in ten words, he answered still: “I am Wale; I will dry their heads up in the sun, and use their skulls as seat and or cup”.

The Oba stood confused and amazed. His words failed him as Wale’s response jostled his wit. He soon realised his fuming did nothing to dampen Wale’s morale. “What do you mean by that?” he questioned, somewhat rhetorically. But Wale was done with his talking.

The chief priest could not have said much where the Oba was short of words. Perhaps the Chief priest knew the gods would not mind to have the heads of the trespassers of their landed staked for public exhibition of the invaders’ conquest and the valour and glory of Ogunta. “Let the gods be wise in their decisions, may no evil befall the land, and may you Wale incur not the wrath of the gods upon yourself and your family!” The Chief priest said. And Wale turned and left, still without saying any more word.

In the evening, Wale felt a strange change in the whole of his being while he was still lying down in his chamber pondering of the new development of things in his life and what might be the fate of Ogunta in the nearest future. It was like his senses were growing sharper than they had always been—as though he could see, smell, feel, and hear things beyond the veils of this world. Then he really felt his spirit was opened.  Then a voice came, this time clearer and closer than he had always heard. “Say it and I will do as you say”. Wale, stood amazed but not afraid. The voice was familiar, but the sound of it was strangely clear.

“What do I say my Lord?” He stammered.

“Your wish, only your wish”.

“My wish is to talk to you anytime I want to, and to travel to the land of the invaders of our land to know who they really are, so I could stop them from any more attack on Ogunta in the future. I worry, another band of these strange-looking beings might come for revenge”.

“You have your wish.”

“Just like that?”

Before, Wale could ask further questions, everything seemed normal again; his senses returned their natural state. But his physically strength was renewed.  He knew it was not a dream at all. He hurriedly got up, rushed out of the hut, and beheld the beauty of the night sharpened by the light of his dearest Moon. He knew what just happened.

So, he rushed out of his father’s compound, towards the path that led to the great Omin, he went. At the bank of the great Omini where the moon was bigger, closer, and brighter he knelt down and cried out from the depth of his spirit: “Talk to me the Great Moon, for I am here”. But he heard nothing in response. So, he cried, and cried, until the darkness covered the Moon and the earth began to quake, the storm was coming again. He immediately stopped his act, his spirit told him to fetch a handful of the sand of the earth and speak. He did as his spirit directed, and he said in a mile tone: “my lord, come to me”. And brightness and calm returned. The Moon came closer upon the great Omini, and shone even brighter than the morning light. Wale’s smile could be said to have reflected the Moon. It was the best night for him since after the invaders’ experience. To hear from the moon and speak to him was greatly awesome enough, now knowing how to summon the moon at will is a gift of eternal glory and matchless power.

“In seven market days, I wish to go to the land of the invaders with the warriors of Ogunta. We are waging war on them. It’s the only way we can defend Ogunta, and all of Oduduwaland”. Wale declared.

“You have your wish,” came the response.

The Moon soon receded at the steady wind that blew through the surface of the great Omini leaving Wale to regale himself in the ecstasy of the moment; his long dreadlocks waving through the rhythm of the wind; his eyes half-shut by the force of the wind and the brightness of the Moon. Like a man made into a god, Wale stood un-moved in the midst of it all. The terribleness of the scenario only animated his spirit for the task ahead.

“I have been favoured among men”. He admitted.

At home, Wale’s absence had left his parents fretful, and Folusha had been particularly restless for many reasons, the main being that Wale had brought to Ogunta the heads of the two leaders of the invaders, and had provoked reactions from all of Ogunta.  And now it was almost midnight, and Wale had not returned since he left home at nightfall. Kehinde was only worried about his wife’s worriedness. He seemed to have had more confidence in his son than even her wife had ever had.

“The coldness of the night breeze is piercing through my ribs”, Folusho complained even with her wrapper wrapped all over her body, “but I will never leave this place until I see my son return”.

“Woman you have to go and sleep, our son will surely return from wherever he went to”. Kehinde persuaded.

They had waited till the night birds and insects started their unharmonious singings and chirpings, and the sound of the night’s silence increased. But the Moon kept them close company with his shinning light so that they were not worried about the lateness of the night. Then Wake appeared as though from the trees. They had not seen him when he walked in for their eyes were partially blurred by the heaviness of the stubborn sleep that kept snooping on them.

“Wale is that you?” Folusho startled, asked with a bit of trembling in her voice, blinking off her snooziness

“That is our son”. Kehinde affirmed.

“Mother, I am the one”. Wale responded.

“What in the name of the gods held you bound till this ungodly hour of the night, my son?” Folusho attempted to querry.

“There is no need for such questions woman, our son is a man now. And not just a man, he is the greatest warrior and saviour of Ogunta”. Kehinde intercepted.

“Mother, if you must know, I am always fine even at the oddest of hours. And may you know that no hour of the night is ungodly. The gods always own the hours”, Wale commented, “tomorrow we shall see at the full light of the day. Good night father; good night mother.

Wale walked into the hut looking like an entirely different person to her mother, but his father knew his son, and even knew that the ways of the gods were not the ways of men. So he smiled at the new Wale he had just seen.