Nneli's Confession

As a rationalist Ebuka had always believed that two and two made four, that life was simple and there was nothing really that could make it more complicated than that. Life had its rules and it followed them logically; well, that was until he met Nneli and found out that there was nothing simple or logical about life.

The first time he saw Nneli, she was washing her clothes by the village stream mmiri ndu which literally translates to ‘water of life’. In the past, barren women were said to have had their bath in a fertility ritual there at midnight on the first Sunday of April every year if they wanted to conceive. But that was long before the Irish missionaries brought Christianity to Umuoma and expelled such fetish practices.

That afternoon, the sight of Nneli scrubbing innocently at the stream bank, her anthill complexion glowing in the twilight sun, and her straight long legs modestly tucked to the side was a beautiful vision that stole Ebuka's attention beyond anything else he had ever seen. At that moment he knew she would be his bride.

Being a city boy with a buddng future he wooed her in only the way he could, with the promise of love and loyalty, in spite of several wealthier but older suitors who fell heavily at her feet. Unlike other rural maidens Nneli wasn’t materialistic; it was hard to imagine that a beautiful girl who could have asked for anything she wanted was merely contented with his fidelity. However, Nneli had just one request, to be allowed to stay in Umuoma where her family was.

This request baffled Ebuka very much, he couldn’t understand why his new bride wouldn’t want to join him in the city where his work and friends were, where the big dreams and opportunities lay; it was just the right thing to do. Traditionally it was the usual thing for the wife to do.

But Nneli insisted, it was the only condition if they were to be married. And without further ado, he eventually agreed. He would visit her every fortnight when he could.

The first two years were blissful; life was good, Ebuka made progress at work and rose quickly to management roles at his firm, a feat unheard of at the company for somebody so young. Somehow everything in his path seemed to give way to his good fortune. Soon enough he became quite rich. He had often heard of blessings that came with marriage but this to him was simply arcane.

Nneli remained in the village and his visits were as agreed, every fortnight weekend. They were however, yet to have a child. Before long, the excitement and distractions of being rich caught up with Ebuka and his regular fortnight weekend visits to Nneli became less fevered. There were months when she wouldn’t even see him and whenever she called, his excuses were always the same; work.

One evening while working late at the office, he noticed one of the new associates, Laide was working late too. Pretty and ambitious, she had her reasons for being at the office that late. Before he could think twice about his vow of fidelity to Nneli, Laide’s soft seductive charm clouded his consciousness and will-power. He gave in; after all it had been long…

He shouldn't have.

When Laide didn’t show up at work the next day everybody thought it was the usual flu or something, however news soon reached the office that Laide had never made it home the previous night, in fact she was brutally murdered in front of her house. Her assailants remain a mystery to this day.

Things didn’t fare well for Ebuka either, the office security revealed that he was the last person who left the office with Laide the night she died and autopsy tests confirmed he had had sex with her too. In order to avoid the scandal of the investigation, the company fired him. After exhausting his savings on numerous litigation fees he lost everything and had to lie low in the village for a while.

Nneli didn’t ask for much explanation, he was even surprised at how understanding she was. He had after all failed to keep his promise. Instead she maintained her wifely duties and went on about her work without so much as bringing up the topic again.

One dry harmattan morning, when Nneli had gone to Afo’oru market Ebuka decided to change the sheets and noticed that there was a single muddy footprint on her side of the bed; at the time he didn’t think much of it until he saw it again few nights later. Perplexed, he meant to ask her about the muddy foot prints that kept appearing on the bed-sheets but he forgot.

One night he woke up to notice that Nneli’s side of the bed was empty, assuming that she had got up to use the toilet he went back to sleep. Another night he woke up suddenly again, or maybe something had woken him…it was the sound of Nneli leaving the room. As he watched her, he observed the odd manner in which she walked, it was the way someone would walk if they were in a trance and he decided to follow her, wondering why he had never noticed her sleepwalking before.

Nneli was barefoot; now Ebuka’s mystery was solved but was that all?

As he walked behind her he became worried, if she was asleep should he wake her? He had often heard that people who sleepwalked were not to be woken suddenly or it would affect their mind orientation severely. With that in mind he resolved not to wake her up but to guide her carefully back to bed, but that was going to be hard as Nneli was already several steps ahead of him. She didn’t walk like she was sleepwalking anymore, she moved like someone with a purpose…a destination.

Curiosity got the better of Ebuka and there in the dead of that moonlit night he decided to follow his wife’s trail which now led outside into the forest. With her extremely long hair draped over her white sleeping gown, Ebuka shivered at how ghostly Nneli figure had suddenly become now that they were in the darkness of the village forests. He didn’t bring a torch, he hadn’t expected them to walk this far. He was also finding it hard to keep up, she seemed to hover rather than walk.

She walked past the empty village square, the town halls, farms and further into the bushes where there were no more houses or living quarters. He recognised the route she was taking and suddenly realised her destination; Nneli was going to the village stream…mmiri ndu.

When they finally arrived there she slowly disrobed from her sleeping gown and began to walk naked into the water. The moon light bounced off the waters, shimmered over her smooth skin and accentuated the softness of her delicate curves. Her moonlit nudity was a glorious apparition of womanhood. All this time she had never looked back once.

Ebuka hid himself behind a tree and watched his wife, hoping that only he could hear the sound of his pounding heart. Midway into the stream when the water had risen to the level of her hips she paused and began to sing. She sang a sweet soulful tune; Ebuka had always known Nneli had a beautiful voice but this was different, the voice he heard that night could tame ferocious lions and put rabid wolves to sleep. It was truly mellifluous.

Immediately, three other girls like her emerged from the waters and they all began to dance. In the moonlight Ebuka could see that their wavy long hair did little to cover their mango-shaped breasts. They were just as beautiful as Nneli, in fact they could have been sisters. Somewhere at the back of his mind he wished he was dreaming but he knew he was not. These were water nymphs just like Nneli; he had married a water spirit, an mmuo mmiri.

He watched them dance and splash water at one another, and afterwards they groomed her hair; combing those long tresses he had always played with while they made love. Then it hit him, the realisation of it all; that for more than two years he had shared his bed with a spirit being. Aru! 

The panic came in strong and he tasted it on his tongue, it was bitter. He flinched backwards and accidentally snapped a dry twig, drawing the attention of the nymphs. He quickly withdrew into the forest and began to run…

He ran so fast, he ran so hard. He ran like a pack of wild dogs were after him, he ran like he had never run before. Most of all, he ran from the truth; the truth that he knew running was futile, unfortunately. The knowledge of this increased his fear even more and his head seemed to expand on his shoulders, and by the time he got home he could run no more. He opened the door to find Nneli in the sitting room, waiting for him.

“We need to talk”, she said matter-of-factly.

He couldn’t find his voice, either because of fear or from running so fast, he wasn’t sure so he nodded his agreement. That night Nneli confirmed what he had just seen and more.

Years ago her ‘human’ mother was barren and couldn’t have any children so she went to mmiri ndu one April night and dedicated her loyalty to the water spirit. Nine months later Nneli was born, she had reluctantly left her ‘water family’ to live in the human world but the nne mmiri (Water goddess) had allowed her to come back every three nights to play with her sisters whom she loved so much. She could also marry, and whoever she chose will come to great wealth and fortune, granted that he remained faithful to her otherwise he would suffer a grave misfortune. That was the fidelity vow Ebuka had failed to keep.

“As it is now, you can never succeed anywhere outside this village, you shall stay here with me and farm. Our destinies are tied together; if I die, so do you. Every three nights I shall join my sisters for the night and there is nothing you will do about it.”

“What if I tell someone about this?” Ebuka asked

“If any harm comes to me, be assured that you will suffer the same fate too.” She answered coldly.

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After that night Ebuka accepted his fate. He couldn’t risk anything happening Nneli; he was trapped. When I went to the village last week he confided in me about his dilemma and made me promise not to get involved. Unfortunately after seeing my formerly successful friend tying wrapper and using chewing stick like a village farmer I couldn’t not do something about it.

Please if you know any way or something Ebuka can do about his situation without losing his own life let me know so that I can help. I just miss my friend.

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