Sorrows of Udi by Ray Anyasi
Synopsis
“Narrated in a free-flowing and easy to access prose. Anyasi’s figurative language is rich and vivid…he succeeds in giving us a heart-breaking and mythic tale.” – The Nation.
“Beautifully chaotic, Anyasi gives us a front row seat in the astonishing drama and intrigues of the precolonial African Kingdom of Udi.” – Bookause Reviews.
Sorrows of Udi is an Afro-epic fantasy thriller novel series set in 13th century Igbo kingdom of Udi. A young princess who must abandon a normal life and a forbidden romance with a childhood lover for the goddess duties at the shrine while her best friend plots to become the next queen by all means necessary including seducing all the males in line of succession of the throne, a little witch who broke loose from the custody of the council of witch doctors and threatening to cause havoc on the kingdom, an ambitious witch doctor risking the safety of the kingdom for a chance to be the most powerful witch doctor in Udi history, a psycho serial killer attacking young girls who remind him of his weaknesses and a prince who plans to steal the throne from his father, all weighing in on palace politics while the king and his council have to worry about an army or Arochukwu warriors marching up the hill in their historic quest to expand the Arochukwu Empire. Sorrows of Udi is a multi-plot story now adapted into a comic series and an animated web series which has been screened in several international film festivals in London, New York, Italy, Bulgaria and Nigeria.
1
Daylight had not fully come when Mmaeze began to hear cheers and chants of the women and girls from far out the palace square. They counted themselves most fortunate to be experiencing this moment in their lifetime. “A human form of the gods in our midst!” they chanted in a disconcerted manner, but Mmaeze could well pick out the words with less stress.
“Is it not premature to already be referring to me as of the gods?” She said to her mother who was pinning the polished black cobra skin bands at her back.
Uloma turned her daughter around and patted her cheeks tenderly, “Do not begrudge the people of their excitement of seeing this day. In a short while you will be declared to be one of the gods.”
Every four generations of kings in the ancient kingdom of Udi, the first girl child of the reigning king is crowned a goddess princess. The ceremony is done when she turns 21. From that moment, her life as people know it is changed from that of humans to what was assumed to be that of the gods. Since it was believed that the gods live inside the darkest and innermost corners of the cave shrine, the goddess princess is accompanied after the ceremony to go live the rest of her life in that dark and cold cave inside.
Every four days, the Eke market day, worshipers come to the shrine hoping to catch a glimpse of the goddess before they finish their worship rituals. If they are fortunate to see her appear at the cave mouth, they bow to the ground and fervently make their requests to the gods, knowing the gods are there to listen.
“What should I say to them when I get out?”
“Say a blessing.”
“Like, the gods bless you today?”
“Like, I bless you today. You are now the goddess they know.”
Mmaeze swallowed and looked down at her feet, the ankle beads of pearls glittered off the yellow oil lamp light in front of her.
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Gods don’t need to feel like it, they only need to know it. The moment you are declared a goddess, even I, your mother will worship at your feet. Then, you will know it.”
Uloma led Mmaeze out the inner chamber to the waiting hall where the women in the royal family both old and young, aunties and cousins and daughters of cousins were waiting to behold the last moments of Mmaeze as human. At her entrance, much of the gathered women gasped at the awe of her beauty in the official goddess princess attire. Two bands of leather from cobra skin crossed in front and back, running from shoulder of one side to hips on the other side. The leather bands are shiny, scalded and adorned with pearly ornaments. Because Mmaeze had a prominent bust, she needed a breast band of woven goat skin. The band did its best but was found wanting. A third of her breasts spilled out into her clavicle in a way that perhaps only the male worshipers would truly fully appreciate.
Below she wore a dust brown skirt of antelope skin, shredded at the helm. The skirt stopped midway between her waist and knees, revealing way too much thick thigh flesh.
She stood there, acknowledging their awe, shyly fondling with the white cowries strung together round her waist.
She bowed slightly at the older women and smiled at the younger ones. It would be the last time she will be seen bowing to anyone or anything. The moment the Ada-Nze puts the golden totem on her, everyone will begin to bow to her. This was one of the many changes Mmaeze knew she would struggle with. All her childhood, she was taught to bow and greet older folks. Then her father became king, and it was becoming clear she will eventually be the goddess princess, and her mother began to tell her to control how quick she was to bow.
She ambled through the throng of familiar faces to the front porch of the east end of the palace to face the not so familiar faces of nearly four thousand women and girls. Women and girls because tradition insists that only females can watch the crowning of a goddess princess.
The air of that dawn was refreshing. It still held traces of the last night’s dew. The Ada-Nze, oldest woman in the king’s clan, was waiting for her at the porch. The Ada-Nze did not seem to be awe-struck like the women inside, she was either too old to appreciate this beauty or too weary to express it. She held the totem of gold pendant carrying the face of Uyi, the goddess of fertility, impatiently waiting for the moment to come and go.
In the gentle clan of Mmiri Oma that same morning, Atuche and his small family could not wait for daybreak. Their daughter, Akunne had been talking in her sleep and calling names of dead relatives she was not even supposed to know; people who died long before she was born. Relatives even her father only knew with a child’s eye. She talked loudly in seeming conversations with these people. Her voice sometimes mumbled that her parents could not clearly hear what she was saying. Not that alone, while she talked, she would from time to time fall into short spells of convulsions that were severe and scary at times.
Nneoma, her mother tried all she could to make her stop. She poured all her palm kernel oil over her from head to toe, but the girl did not stop. From mid night to the onset of dawn, Akunne was unconscious but constantly talking.
Once it was clear enough to see their way through the bush path, Atuche picked up the girl on his shoulder. Nneoma followed and they got on their way to the hut of Abanna the witch doctor of their clan. They hurried through the narrow path along the forest that led out to the tribal chief’s compound; they turned right once they burst onto the road split at this compound and began yet another run through a thicker forest. Akunne kept mumbling her conversations with these dead people.
Her voice was like the voice of three people speaking at once. They could feel the breeze behind them whispering voices of spirits at them. Atuche could swear he was being pursued by evil spirits. He only had to be a man, otherwise he would never do this. This was the reason he insisted on daybreak before taking her to the witch doctor.
From the time Akunne began to perform this scary show, he had felt the presence of spirits in his house. A forceful wind blew into the house from two different directions that he had to shut the windows. Everyone in Udi knows that winds only blow from one direction unless it is an evil wind announcing the presence of evil spirits. As the wind blew, his Mmiri-Oma charmed amulet fell off the wall. He had immediately gone to pick it up, but before he touched it, the amulet string tore apart and the beads ran in different directions. Nneoma did not notice this because she was lost in trying to get Akunne to stop talking. He did not tell her about this.
“She is convulsing again,” Nneoma cried.
“Woman, be calm. She has convulsed a hundred times this night and she stopped.” Atuche‘s voice was coarse and laden with frustration.
“We should stop so I can pour some oil on her head.”
“The oil does not make her stop. Only the Dibie can make this stop. We are nearly there.”
Nneoma, stumbled on a stump and fell. She cursed and picked herself up immediately. Atuche only paused briefly for his wife to get back on her feet. Those five seconds felt like five hours. Whatever he feared was chasing them nearly caught them.
2
Once they got to Abanna’s personal shrine, he placed Akuunne in front of the entrance gently, yet hurriedly. Nneoma held her daughter, held up her face to inspect it. She was still talking. Atuche had left to call the witch doctor from his hut.
“What is the alarm about?” Abanna said grudgingly as he came out of his hut.
“My daughter, Akunne. She talks in her sleep and calling names of dead people.”
Abanna turned and went back into his hut without saying a word.
“Please help me, Nnanyi.”
“Go back and stay with her in the shrine. I will join you.” Abanna raised his voice to say from inside his hut.
Atuche did not go back but waited in front of the hut till the older man came out in his proper witch doctor rigout. All his charmed amulets were complete on his neck, wrists and ankles. A tangible length of spotless white silk fabric was wound round his neck. He then had a red silk skirt that reached up to five inches before his ankles. He left his scrawny chest bare besides the long tiger tooth hanging from the string of his amulet.
Atuche studied the pattern drawn of white shrine chalk on the Dibie’s face. It was something distinct from what he used to see on him or any other Dibie before.
Abanna walked past him, “They are for a unique kind of spirit,” he said to explain the face drawing.
“You think she is possessed by a unique kind of spirit?”
The witch doctor ignored that question and kept walking to the shrine where the girl and her mother were.
He reached for his leather bag lying between two figurines of hideous faces and stuck out tongues. His hand brought out a dusty substance from the bag. He whispered some incantations with his face to the mud wall opposite the entrance. Then he turned around and instantly blew the powder at the girl’s face. She sprung up from her lying position and her eyes jarred open. She was panting and her gaze was on nothing in particular, just wide unblinking eyes.
“She is awake,” Nneoma screamed and knelt to hold her.
Atuche took two steps towards the girl. Abanna held up his palm at them.
“She is not awake,” he said somberly while studying her closely, “do not touch her.”
Just as he said so, Akunne slumped back to the mud floor, looking dead. This time she was no longer mumbling anything.
“Is she okay?” Nneoma said to the witch doctor.
He turned to Atuche and said slowly, “I suspect your daughter has been bewitched.”
Nneoma held him by his skirt and began to cry, “Please help me. Please cure my daughter.”
“If only witchcraft can be cured.” Abanna easily freed himself from her grip.
“My daughter is not a witch. She is maybe tormented by an evil spirit.”
“Have you become a witch doctor, woman?”
“You said you suspect,” Atuche said, “How can you confirm it?”
The Dibie stepped out the shrine and motioned for them to do same. Atuche went after him but Nneoma was reluctant to leave her daughter there alone.
“Woman, you will make things worse for her and yourself if you don’t leave her alone.”
Akunne laid there, nearly lifeless. Spittle from her convulsion bouts dampened the top front of her body wrapper and wet her neck from her lower jaw down.
Once the witch doctor and her parents were out of the shrine and were not looking back anymore, she rose dreamily and zombied to the leather bag between the hideous figurines. She put her hand in and brought out an amulet. She held it inside her palms for about four seconds while mumbling something. Then she returned it to the bag. She went back to the mat, laid and started another bout of convulsion.
“I would assemble the council of witch doctors of the kingdom immediately,” Abanna said to Atuche, “we would together perform the ritual to test if she has a communing link with evil spirits. It is such a powerful ritual. Too heavy for one witch doctor. Besides, if she is found to be a witch, we need them all as witnesses to carry out the next action.”
Atuche looked at his wife and held her hand.
“I hope you know what this means?” the witch doctor asked Atuche.
“Yes,” he replied with a low tone.
Abanna was not convinced. He looked Atuche in the eyes and said firmly, “She will be cast into the evil forest forever and if she is ever seen in the community again, those who see her are obligated to stone her to death and you are to cleanse the land with a white bull. This means shame for your family.”
Atuche did not say a word, but he understood this clearly even without being told.
Nneoma was sobbing without control. “My girl is not a witch,” she kept saying.
“Only the gods can tell us that,” Abanna said.
Still inside the palace, goddess princess rituals were ended but the festival was only beginning. Musical bands played to the excitement of the gathered crowd around the palace. Now men could be part of it. There were dance troupes entertaining at various corners. Chiefs of the king’s council gathered at the front porch of the king’s chamber, drinking palm wine with gourde bowls from an earthen pot. This is after they had taken gifts to the goddess princess and received blessings from her.
Mmaeze was inside her chamber with her childhood friend, Obiageli. Obiageli was a child orphan adopted by the king’s elder sister who had no child of her own when she was only 7. Both girls had not hit it off instantly that time but as they became older, Mmaeze became less critical of the few companies she was allowed to keep. Her mother had screened out most of her early friends as unfit to be friends with a future goddess princess either by perceived character or by family background.
Unknown to Queen Uloma, Obiageli who was more or less the only friend left for Mmaeze was a far worse influence than every other person kicked out of contact with the princess. The future goddess princess was not allowed to keep male friends, but nothing says Obiageli, who has no royal lineage can’t frolic about with as much boys as she wanted to. This she did with scary wantonness and did not spare the curious but innocent Mmaeze of the racy stories of her escapades. At some point in their teenage days she had even tried to get a secret boyfriend for Mmaeze. She persuaded the princess till she reluctantly agreed for her to proceed with the plan. It was only aborted because the boy Mmaeze had liked was too scared to get involved.
“So now you are a goddess I can’t be your friend anymore?”
“You have even spent too much time with me than they will be comfortable with.”
“I’m attending to you.”
“Only virgins attend to the goddess princess.”
Obiageli chuckled, “As if virginity is written on the face.”
“We both know how many men out there can attest to the truth.”
She chuckled again, “Actually, you don’t even know half of them.”
Mmaeze dropped her jaw, “You have been hiding some of them from me?”
“Not intentionally, I don’t like boring you with the unholy experiences of my life.”
“You know that is a lie. Since I can’t experience it, I am always looking forward to hearing your experiences.”
“Helps your imagination.”
“Helps my imagination, dear sister.”
“Now you are a goddess, you must keep your imagination pristine. Only imagine what the gods are doing inside that dark cave.”
“Hush. Being a goddess does not mean one cannot just fantasize about what a mortal charming hunk can do to her behind closed doors.”
“Hmmm, talking about mortal charming hunks,” Obiageli nodded at the window, “that one there should have been yours for life if you had no royal…”
“Oh, gods of the waters.” Mmaeze placed her hand on her chest and gasped as she beheld the young man her friend was speaking of. “Has he been in the settlement and no one told me about it?”
“He has been, since two months ago.”
“And I wasn’t told?”
“Why do you have to be told?”
They watched the young man spread his arms as princess Obioma ran into them. He picked her up, spun her around as she hugged him tight, straddling his torso like a palm wine taper would straddle a palm tree in a whirl wind afternoon. When he put her down, he held her face in his hands and was saying something to her with a bewitching smile on his face.
Mmaeze did not blink all the time he talked and laughed with her younger sister. She wondered if when Obioma hugged him and refuse to let go if she thought of him as an elder brother who was long lost and now back home or did, she think of him as a man…a woman’s man.
“He has turned out to be one of the finest male Udi ever had,” Obiageli said.
Mmaeze nodded but did not stop looking at the man.
“His fellow soldiers say he fights like the gods.”
“And he shows up the day I am made a goddess.”
Obiageli chuckled her natural chuckle.
