Maybe Tari was dreaming. She had to be. That was the only explanation she could give for the sight before her eyes. Ebiowei was dead. He died in the war, not in an honourable way, but he died and she knew it. But the sight before her, she could not explain. The words spilling out of his lips in the same fashion it used to 15years ago, his shy lopsided smile in between statements when he couldn't fully express himself. His accent though was foreign, and from the story he told, although she zoned out minutes ago, she heard him say something about 'Canada' and 'asylum'. She couldn't put those 2 words together at the moment.
Everyone in Peremabiri knew about the love story of Tariere and Ebiowei. They were exemplary to the young and distasteful to the elderly. Their childish love which began with a playful jest when Tari was only 5 and Ebiowei, 10 had playfully and seriously grown into an early marriage between them 10 years later.
Tari was pregnant, you see, and unlike the times of today, 15 was a ripe enough age to tie the knot. Besides, Ebi was a fisherman. And everyone knew fishermen were the wealthiest of men. He could provide food for his father's entire compound. His 4 stepmothers adored him, much to the disappointment of their own children, but who wouldn't love a man who always has a basket full of the tastiest catfish.
Ebi was a man. Not the everyday village kind of man. He was a man who had enough potential to outgrow the small Peremabiri town. He had the mind of a 'white man', they would say and a body 'fit for the gods'. His lean muscle, honey tone skin, his sharp eyes, and carefully shaved beards had all the girls in the community making hushed sounds of admiration when he walked by.
But they knew their place. From the age of 10, his eyes only belonged to one woman, Tari. She was the light in his life and as they often teased him, 'the only fish in his large pond'.
The birth of their child, whom they casually called Ebitari, a fusion of their names which described how they truly felt for each other, 'good love' or 'love is good'. Her life was short live. Only 3 years after she was born, the peaceful rice producing community, Peremabiri, was ravaged by a clash between the Biafran and Nigerian army.
'The village town crier has been at it all morning', Tari said in Ijaw, 'the soldiers are coming o'. Tari knew the look on Ebi's face, it was his look of annoyance, but in his usual fashion, he stayed silent and swallowed his bowl of fisherman soup and starch. All-day out at sea and this is the welcome information his wife had to offer.
He knew more than anyone what the situation was with the approaching army. Even the fish were frightened. He already had plans of sneaking them out of the community that night, he could comfortably paddle his canoe to a community far out of Bomo clan, and maybe seek refuge in his fellow fisherman's home. They had all been quite fond of each other.
He was the protector of his home. A young man of 23, he was, but he still had to do what he could to keep his family safe. HIS family. His baby girl, Ebi, named lovingly after him, had been so weak lately. He worried about the journey of the night. She would be asleep, he prayed, but he knew better. The little girl was fascinated by the strangest things. He worried she might stay up all through the journey, talking endlessly and crying endlessly when he would ignore her. But he would find a way, he always did.
The night came, and as he had imagined, he and Tari picked up the few essentials they had and took off to the waterside. The sea was calm and the tide was low but he knew his waters well enough. When he managed to set the canoe at sail, heading towards Ekowe, where he would take a detour through the creeks, he never imagined what he would encounter.
The war boats were silent. Their plan was properly crafted, and Ebi fell right into a trap that wasn't even set.
They were surrounded within seconds and taken into the swamps.
'where una think say una dey go', said the mad with the half of a yellow sun badge on his uniform. Ebi knew what the outcome would be, but he never expected such brutality. The first blow struck him unexpectedly, and when he made the mistake of catching the second punch, he knew he was finished.
He heard Tari's scream last before he blacked out from the pain of the next hits, he couldn't even tell what he was hit with.
Tari was glad she took the initiative of packing things before it got dark. Ebi was one to do the unexpected, and the look in his eyes all day, after his midday meal told her that there was a journey playing out in his head.
Making sure Ebitari was properly fed so she would sleep through the night was something she was glad she accomplished, but even a dead man would come to life with the sounds that emanated from her husband while she saw him being beaten by the very men who were meant to save them. What she never expected were the hands that grabbed her already fragile baby off her and tossed her into the water.
'Swim, river baby, swim', said the drunk soldier with what looked like a plank of wood being used as a chewing stick, 'where mummy is going, she won't be needing you anymore'.
Tari died at that moment. She watched her baby scream until she could hear and see no more. She saw her husband being killed. She was a dead woman, her screams were futile. Her soul was ripped clean out of her very being.
To Tari, Ebiowei died that night.
She mourned him, although she never saw his corpse. She lived the next 15 years of her life as a widow. Up until the moment, she saw a man in all 6ft of grace strutting towards her little firewood kitchen.
At first, she ignored the figure, but she couldn't help but wonder who could be the lucky recipient of such a being. Her flatmates weren't ones to accommodate male visitors unless they came at night and had a belt filled with cash.
When he came closer, past images in her head began to reconnect and pieces came together. Her first instinct was what she responded to. The moment she fully recognized him, she got up quickly, grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at him, while she covered her eyes, hoping for the image to disappear.
'I deserve that', said the familiar voice in an unfamiliar accent. 'Tari...'
Contact me on Fiverr for your articles
I loved this piece because it has everything. I just hope it is curated because....I had goose bumps
Hello @ebingo, how are you? Will you be joining the Fast and Furious Festival?
Tell me more, at the edge of my seat!😀
Thank you for posting in The Ink Well.
Please check The Ink Well Manifesto with our plans, community rules and posting guidelines.
The Ink Well is hosting the Fast and Furious Festival until 1 February - hope you will join us!
That was a beautifully written piece, look forward to seeing more of your stories.
Wow! This is beautiful. I almost shed a tear.