Monday, October 17, 2016

Unlike Father, Unlike Son

Unlike Father, Unlike Son
By Jolah
Two mercenaries lugged the haggard body deep into the bush where no one would ever find him.  The soon-to-be corpse’s limbs were as thin as the surrounding branches of the ohia, and his belly was as swollen as a kim-kim.  
“My name is Unoka.  This must be a mistake.  Please help me.  Take me back to my home.  Have you no mercy in your souls?  I have done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?  Shame on you!  You are a disgrace to your village.  You are lazy and wasteful.  You are a debtor who owes many cowries.  You have taken and sought no titles.  You play the flute while others work and fight.  You do not deserve to live.  Umuofia is not a sanctuary for cowards.”
“I…I am not a coward.”
“Ha!  If not a coward, then what are you?”
“I am a peaceful man.  I am a poetic musician.  But, most of all, I am a proud father.  I care not for blood.  I care not for war.  I care not for wealth.  I care not for titles and fame.  I have dreams and desires for a peaceful life, and...”
Unmoved, the men proceeded to kick his emaciated frame and left him to succumb to the harsh elements.  Alone and dying from the ravages of his addictions, Unoka began to hallucinate.  The whirling images in his head seemed as if he were viewing them through the lense of a kaleidoscope, continually changing focus in-and-out and from side-to-side.  Not like the calming dreams produced when he would partake of gourds of palm wine and pinches of snuff, these were anxiety-provoking nightmares that challenged his soul.
Naked, without his wrapper, he stood in the middle of his village.  There was a steady crescendo of muted whispers that turned into audible mockery as the villagers voiced their displeasure with the parasite.  Suddenly, he was surrounded by hundreds of mask-like figures frantically dancing around him.  They danced the Adamma, Omuru-onwa, Agbacha-ekuru-nwa, Nkwa umu-Agbogho, and Ikpirikipi-ogu.  Finally, he saw an Ikenga mask sailing to the heavens, just out of his reach, heading towards Choukyou.  Then a figure appeared to him in a far away haze.  The visage of the god of war, Ikenga, came into focus.  
“Why would you choose the flute over the machete?” Ikenga asked. “The Igbo are proud warriors.  You bring disgrace upon our people, and you bring shame upon your family and your respected son.”
Before Unoka could answer, the setting shifted once again.  Okonkwo, his son, came running through the door of their obi, a satisfied grin plastered over his face having just defeated Amalinze the Cat in front of the adoring elders.
“I wish I could have seen him triumph over the Cat.  He is much different from me, but that is his nature, and I respect our differences.  If only he could respect my nature.”  
Out of nowhere, Okonkwo’s grin transformed into a blood-thirsty glower as he lunged towards his father.  Fangs sank deep into Unoka’s legs.  Instantly, he returned back to consciousness, a hyena scratching his face and gnawing at his legs.  Summoning the last ounce of his limited strength, Unoka fought back ineffectively.  Blood dripped from the cuts on his face, his limbs quivered from exhaustion, and his skin burned in the oppressive heat as the hyena left him alone to die.
Unoka began to cry.  He cried because of the immense pain.  He cried because his own son did not love him.  He mourned that his musical talents would be extinguished.  He cried because no one would remember him after he died.  He knew his fate was sealed.  His final words escaped his dry lips, “Ikenga chim nyelum, taa oji.” (Ikenga, gift of my chi, participate in the offering). Slowly the weeping came to a halt, and Unoka cried no more.


Bibliography
https://www.pinterest.com/bczerniewski/african-drums/ - a tradition Igbo drum called a kim kim
https://www.naij.com/949030-igbo-amaka-5-photos-will-make-fall-love-igbo-culture.html - a traditional Igbo flute called an Opi
https://www.igboguide.org/HT-chapter10.htm - Igbo Village
https://www.igboguide.org/HT-chapter9.htm - a masked Igbo god
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ikenga - statue of Ikenga the god of war

1 comment:

  1. Justin, similar to Yale, I also enjoyed how you incorporated dialogue into your story, especially dialogue in the native language which helped give a greater effect to the story. I especially enjoyed your ending as the climax was directly before, an interesting choice as I wanted to continue reading. Great job overall!

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