THE UNKNOWN HANDS (EPISODE SEVENTEEN)

…wailing on top of our voices as we watched him gasping for breath. Our noises attracted some men working a short distance away from where we were who came hurrying to us to find out the cause of the bedlam. One of them carried baba on his back and within a short moment of our arrival at the hut, the whole place

was full with people. Different balms were brought and some were quickly used to rub baba’s body all over. Adigun and Gbile too soon arrived and their reaction to the state in which they met their father sparked off another round of wailing. A suggestion was made that baba be carried into the village as his condition was fast deteriorating. As things turned out, baba was not to set his eyes on Ayedaade alive as he kicked the bucket before our very eyes. Perhaps, it was even better that he died at the time he did. The pain he went through before he finally gave up was too serious for anyone to pray to have prolonged. But as he breathed his last, everywhere was thrown into pandemonium. There was no one to console another as everyone went wild with wailings.

Later, some of the adults around were able to summon courage. Arrangements were made to get him back to Ayedaade for burial that evening. Some of those from a nearby hut brought raffia-mat with which Baba was wrapped and the silent procession home began. As we went, various thoughts occupied my mind. Why is it that misfortune continued to dog my step? Where was I to go from there? How on earth could I find someone as helpful and caring as Baba again all my life? Could it be some enemies were after me and if so, what was my offence? In the course of my journey through life, I had learnt that enemies exist and that once they are after a man, their evil eyes will follow that man everywhere he might go except he had made some sacrifices of propitiation. Was my case requiring sacrifices? I could not tell.

It was very disturbing that the man left us without parting a word and when we least expected it. How could death be so wicked? Someone who had been hale and hearty in the morning of the same day now wrapped up as a corpse. We had all hovered around him to hear what he would say but he had simply groaned to death.

Some of those in our train to the village were of the opinion that something must have been responsible for the sad occurrence.

“Snakes have hidden limbs”, they insinuated. Some even suggested that a rite be performed on baba so that he could fight back his detractors from the great beyond.

We arrived at Ayedaade in the evening, when most people were trying to retire to their hut. But the wailings which began as soon as we got there were loud enough to wake even the dead man himself. In fact, in my childish thinking, I had hoped the man would wake up as screaming from various people rent in the air. Surprisingly … to be continued on Thursday

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