18 years I was as I stood by the river bank my thought nailed me to a place as I recall the story surrounding my birth.
My clay pot still under my armpit supported with my two hands and my eyes fixed sternly on the Iroko tree.
The fluid of Emeng will salvage this lost community my mind reminded me again.
I’m Ibolli the only girl child of Emeng the poor Farmer with the smallest farm land inherited from my grand father. I never knew my grand parent, I was told they died before I was born.
I grow up in a family of six children, five boys and myself who happened to be the only girl and the last.
My community has been under the curse of Ebgeng ( the god of harvest and wind) for three decade the farm lands had not yielded well, people take ill and many dies mysteriously.
The community had had seven kings who all died mysteriously too.
The staff of leader is influence by the gods to pick a new king after the dead of a sitting king and woe betides any kindred that rejects the staff.
In my 18th year the seventh king in three decade was seriously ill awaiting the could hands of dead. Sacrifices has been offered the the deities to no avail.
I had never been told of the happenings surrounding my birth till my 18th birthday.
On that fateful day, like every girl child i was in my mother’s hut helping to pound the yam while my five brothers were with our father helping him to complete a set of Cain chair as it was a trade that brings in money for the family up keep apart from the little farm produce.
Prior to this day my father had told me I’m seen as the Emeng’s fluid ” my daughter you have become of age, you are Emeng’s fluid, you don’t have to ask what it means until your mothers tells you on your 18th birthday”
I had lived my whole life anticipating my 18th birthday.
To be continued