This is not a
story about pounded yam and leopards, or maybe it is; just not quite the way
you imagine. But it is definitely a story about a couple- a couple whose
marriage is threatened by, not unfaithfulness or lack of love but by the
monotony of stereotypes and old-fashioned beliefs.
Cupid is
thought to be accurate, pairing hearts deserving of one another. But sometimes-
and nobody knows why- probably for his own private amusement, he sets two seemingly
contradictory characters together, settles back with whatever passes for
popcorn in his world and watches. Just as he did with Romanus and Ezinne.
Romanus 42, an
international textile merchant with an ego the size of Owerri’s own Grand
Canyon (that deep gully erosion after Egbu, along Mbaise road) is great at what
he does. An astute businessman with ties spanning across Singapore, Malaysia
and greater China, Romanus controlled majority of market share for imported
lace and similar woven fabrics in Eastern Nigeria and some parts of Lagos. With
his amicable charm and tenacious attitude, there was no doubt he could sell
fire to a dragon as he often boasted to his numerous Chinese dealers.
Evidently, he
was rich and successful, but that was business. Unfortunately what Romanus gained
in wealth, he lacked in domestic matters. For starters, he was an absentee husband
and father. Not to be mistaken, he loved his children and was very affording,
but his idea of family was merely providing all that they needed as long as
money could afford it. However, raising them was not his responsibility…after
all that was why he had a wife, right?
Ezinne, his young
wife, a first-class graduate in Physical Ergonomics (not economics) and a
former Miss Federal Poly Nekede was now a modern stay-at-home mum. Not by
choice though, they had both agreed (well, Romanus mostly) that it would be far
more suitable for their children to be brought up by their mum rather than unknown
nannies with questionable backgrounds, as he put it. Not one to argue much,
Ezinne gave up her promising 9 to 5 job to manage their home.
For many, it
may seem that to Ezinne, life was good. And it should have been, they lived in
a mansion on Nollywood side of Owerri, complete with a swimming pool, several white
Grecian columns and enormous leopard-head sculptures carved into various parts
of the impressive edifice. This included the entrance to the house which was
shaped like the open jaws of a leopard. For some reason, Romanus was obsessed
with leopards; and had even once considered having one as a pet but Ezinne had
to put her foot down on that.
In spite of
all the extravagance, she wasn’t contented at all…why?
You see,
Romanus had many positive attributes about him but the one thing that threw a
monkey-wrench into the whole fairy-tale life of Ezinne’s marriage was his
archaic, out-dated, old-fashioned, antiquated, obsolete (I have run out of
synonyms!) way of thinking. And it was such a shame because he was exposed to
several foreign cultures from his many trips yet neither of them opened his
mind to more contemporary ways of luxury living.
I have often
believed that Romanus strict traditional upbringing by his village-wise father
is responsible for most of his ancient values and I may be right but that is a
long parallel story that shouldn’t be told with this one.
One such
belief Romanus held was that the meat in any household MUST be bought by a man.
African men were hunters in the past, and it was their sole responsibility to
handle the meat. Today, even though men no longer hunted food per se, it was
their duty to buy.
Because of his frequent trips, Romanus never allowed meat to
run out in his home so he put up a large cold room which he frequently stocked
up with large hanging chunks of beef, goat-meat and grass-cutters, antelopes and
whatnots whenever he was in town. If for some reason they ran out, his family
would have to feed on fish until he returned. Ezinne had been warned.
Another quirk
about Romanus was that he always expected his “nri ji” (pounded yam) to be
actually pounded in the traditional way. He disliked factory processed ones
like “Poundo yam” and abhorred using pounding-machines; to him they never
tasted like the real thing. This would have been okay with Ezinne only if he
didn’t insist that she did it herself.
According to him, he couldn’t bear some
stranger’s sweat dripping into the mortar while they pounded it. So it wasn’t
unusual to see Ezinne, former Miss Federal Poly Nekede, pounding away in the
kitchen with her polished nails and all.
There are a
few other peculiarities which I hesitate to include in this story- one of such
that includes Romanus’ bedroom habits but let us keep this mainly PG13 for now.
So Ezinne’s dilemma was quite understandable and while her peers envied her
lifestyle from the outside, few knew what was really happening within. And,
whenever she tried to voice her discomfort about any of these issues, Romanus
would get into a fit and yell; “Do you want me to give up my omenala (tradition)?” Or
"That is how women always did it in the past; my mother pounded yam and so should you!” Such statements usually ended the conversation immediately.
"That is how women always did it in the past; my mother pounded yam and so should you!” Such statements usually ended the conversation immediately.
And so it
was, one fateful night just before Romanus went to sleep, they had just had an
argument about Ezinne’s plan to start a yoga class for other stay-at-home mums
in the Nollywood estate (remember her first class in Physical Ergonomics?). But
Romanus who couldn’t understand why women would want to wear skin-tight pants
and stretch all day turned it down; saying if it were in the past, women would
be too busy raising hunters and warriors to think of “yogurt” pants.
Ezinne cried
herself to sleep.
I know many
people do not believe in karma but
let me quickly say here that there is always a consequence for anything you do
whether good or bad. It just has different names used to describe it. That
night, Ezinne’s tears reached Aleruchi, the
goddess of divine feminism- if you believe in that sort of thing- and she
decided to give Romanus a taste of his own medicine via the phantasm of a
turbulent nightmare.
It began as
all dreams do, suddenly finding yourself in the middle of something or
somewhere with no recollection of how you got there. For Romanus, he was in the
thickets of a dense forest very much like his hometown, he didn’t know what to
make of it but he knew something was not right.
In the dream,
it is dark and hazy; surreal in a Lynch-esque manner. Romanus can hardly see
clearly in front of him and while trying to make his way through the bushes his
hand brushes something sharp and bristly, like the muzzle of a cat. The feeling
is unpleasant and he begins to run blindly towards the nearest source of light.
Before long,
he runs into a group of men who ask him if he has seen it. He doesn’t know what it
is but he suspects that they are hunting something dangerous, because they all
have spears and knives. As one of the men leans forward to explain, a large cat
swoops down on him and begins to rip his neck apart. The hunting party yells
and thrust their spears at the creature.
Romanus tries
to break away from the pandemonium but someone hands him a knife and pushes him
inside the mob. By the faint light of the moon he can recognize the
unmistakable patterns on the animal’s skin. It is a leopard.
Blackout.
Most dreams
come in phases which we often can’t tell where they begin or end. In the next
phase of Romanus’ dream, he finds himself inside what looks like small mud hut
with a thatched roof. He is with a heavy-set woman in her 40s (who is not
Ezinne but is Ezinne). There is something unusually off about her.
The Ezinne woman asks him if dinner is
ready. Submissively, Romanus offers her a bowl of what appears to be pounded yam.
As she eats, he sits by her feet on the earthy floor and begins to pound more yams.
It is never enough because she keeps requesting for more and he tries to keep
up by pounding faster. But why is Romanus the one pounding yam?
He looks
closely at Ezinne and sees why she
really isn’t Ezinne; she has a beard on her chin. A beard similar to the kind
he grows. It dawns on him then that the Ezinne
woman is actually he. Which makes him wonder, who is he?
Romanus
stretches his forearms; they are uncharacteristically feminine and covered in
henna dye designs. On his left wrist he observes a familiar birthmark belonging
to his wife, puzzled he walks up to a mirror and sees that his lips are also
dyed black. He is wearing hessian fabric as a skirt to cover his hips…and
breasts. He is a woman! At this point Romanus begins to scream…
He woke up to
see his wife Ezinne (the real one now) staring at him. She looked scared. There
was a patch of sweat on his pillow. Romanus was relieved to find out it had
only been a dream.
"Sorry, I was having a bad dream", he explained. But she wasn’t
worrying about that.
"I think
somebody is in our house. I heard noise downstairs", she whispered.
Downstairs he
found a flashlight by the stairs, for some reason he decided not to switch on
the light bulbs; he went to the sitting room and into the kitchen. They were
both empty. A kitchen window had been left open and the wind was blowing the
utensils against each other like a wind chime. That was probably what Ezinne
had heard.
Romanus often
blamed the unwarranted paranoia of women for the stress many men suffered and
this was one of them. He shut the window and started to ascend the stairs when
he heard a sound. It was faint but repetitive like the idling engine of a car
and it appeared to be coming from outside where his garage was.
None of his
cars were on; he had gone outside to inspect them. But he saw a light on in the
window of the cold room. Why didn’t Cook switch it off? As he approached the
door, he discovered that that was where the sound was coming from. When Romanus
entered the cold room, nothing in his 42 years on earth prepared him for what
he saw.
All the
frozen meat he stored was now alive; the hanging chunks of beef, headless suspended
antelopes, pigs and even the birds- without their feathers- cried out as they
swung from the racks on their iron hooks. A nearby pig with its hollowed-out
belly and eyeless sockets clawed at Romanus as it cried for attention; they all
appeared to be in pain. Everything was hazy and surreal…again.
By now you
may have guessed that Romanus never really woke up from his first dream. In
fact, he is in another phase of his nightmare; a dream within a dream…the worst
of nightmares.
He is now on
the floor crawling and shivering, more from fear than the cold. The horror
before him can’t be tamed. Yet Romanus is aware of another presence. One that
disturbed his assorted meats; an evil presence he doesn’t want to see but can
feel. It lands noiselessly- on all
fours- on the cutting table with precise feline agility and leaps at a
suspended antelope, taking it down with its
powerful jaws. The antelope’s cry is one of anguish and resignation.
Bloodcurdling.
Romanus
watches quietly. He is trying not to draw attention to himself. At the moment it is backing him, feeding voraciously
on the now silent antelope. The door is only a few feet away, if only he can
crawl quietly to it… Unfortunately, the creature stops mid-meal and sniffs the
air in typical cat-like fashion before turning quickly in his direction.
He has been
seen. It approaches him unhurriedly
with the grace of a patient animal; a deadly one that knows its prey can’t
elude it, no matter how hard they try. It
is huge, almost six feet high at upright length with a face unlike anything on
earth. But the markings on its skin are unmistakable.
Oddly, the
song that begins to play in his head at that moment is Bushmeat by Sound Sultan. Romanus had always liked the song but
right now, not so much.
He is stiff
in hypnotic shock as its bristly wet whiskers
brush his neck. Then the only light in the room goes off and he is left in a
staring match with a glowing pair of callous yellow eyes. A sharp pain surges
through his neck as he feels its
teeth cut through. The last thing he hears is the gushing sound of his jugular
emptying its contents into the creature’s open jaws…
The first
thing Romanus did when he woke up was not to pray for his Chi to bind the evil elements and principalities from his life. No, It
was call his chief architect, Mr Wei Tin Chang. The Chinese engineer was to
come and demolish all traces of ‘leopard’ from his house before the end of the
week. From the building entrance to the leopard grotto he had set up by the
pool, everything was to be removed.
Ezinne was
surprised when a few days later she received a home delivery of a Yam Pounder
from Konga. It had been signed by Romanus himself. He had also told Mr. Wei Tin
Chang to include a studio in his new design, one where she can teach her “yogurt” classes. An elated Ezinne couldn’t
understand her husband’s recent ‘strange’ behaviour but happily welcomed it.
As for
Romanus, if anything, he now appreciates his wife more. The last time he attended
the Ichies’ meeting in his hometown,
the other chiefs noticed that his traditional Ishiagu shirt now had lion head patterns on it (which was the
proper way) instead of his trademark leopard heads.
Maazi Romanus
still feels somewhat uncomfortable about entering his cold room alone at night.
Of course he wouldn’t admit this to anyone. He buys the meat in his house
though, that’s the one part of his father’s nketa
(legacy) that still remains. Maybe Aleruchi
would have to come down herself and battle him on that.
-The End-
Click the audio file below to hear the song Bushmeat by Sound Sultan Ft Tuface