Short Story: Son of The Soil

Akintade was furious, not only had they accepted one of the enemy into their camp, they were now prepared to take advice and share battle plans with him as well. Had they gone mad? Surely they know of the pain that boils in their veins that the fathers and brothers of Ifagbemi had thrust upon them. Surely they too had their own dead put to sleep by the greedy and wicked blades of the Ife people. So why Oduduwa, have they brought a case for one of the Ife dogs as a possible adviser before the war council.

“Ifagbemi was a soldier before the dispute! He knows Ife military strategies, and tactics favoured by their commanders!” barked Olugbenga in favour of listening to Ifagbemi.

“But Olugbenga, were you not with us when we voted against allowing him stay in our land? Then why now are you in support of hearing his words?” Akintade asked in surprise.

“At the time I thought the man an enemy, and rightly so, every son of Ife was an enemy of Modakeke. But now Ifagbemi has proven that his love for his wife and children exceeds that which he has for Ife. Was he the only Ife man to marry a Modakeke woman? But he was the only one to choose our side, and would you blame him? He knows the truth of this war. Any man brave enough to stand on the side of truth, even against his blood, is a good man, and we should take advantage of the help this good man has to offer.” replied Olugbenga.

Akintade was well aware of the sacrifice Ifagbemi seemed to be making, but he wasn’t buying it. To him who held allegiance to Modakeke more sacred than anything else, it was impossible for a real man to abandon his home, especially one trained to be a soldier; he couldn’t make himself believe Ifagbemi was genuine. The loss of his first son to the war was no help either.

“We do not yet know how pure his intentions are, what if this was their plan or along. Lead us astray with some false information while the Ife dogs ambush us at the moment we let our guards down.”

Everyone present had considered this possibility, but it seemed highly unlikely. Tales of how Ifagbemi killed two men to protect his wife while fleeing to Modakeke had long spread through Ife and Modakeke, his people spoke of him as a traitor, and the elders in Modakeke had –after a long debate –agreed to provide him permanent residency in Modakeke, much against the wishes of Akintade and his supporters of course. Akintade could not fathom how a man could reject his motherland for another, he did not believe in such. When he saw Ifagbemi, he saw the human manifestation of Ife, Ife who took his son, Ife who took his brother, Ife who took his friend and his friend’s son, he hated Ife.

“The truth remains, we are losing this war. Ife has more men and weapons than we do, we have been lucky to hold on this long, without a miracle we are sure to lose, and everyone here knows this. The heavens have blessed us with an opportunity; do we not make use of this because of something as improbable as what Akintade just suggested? We are on the losing side here we do not have the luxury to not take this opportunity, and the longer this war drags on, the more we lose. My elders I have said my piece, let me take my seat before they say I have come again with a speech.” Akinsola said.

Akinsola was an old friend of Ifagbemi; he was the one who set up the meeting between Ifagbemi and his sister, the same woman the Ife man called wife. Akinsola was the one who brought Ifagbemi’s case before the elders the first time, and it was he who did it again. After his statement there was murmuring in the gathering, they knew what had to be done, but Akintade and his faction would not budge.

“Have you all forgotten the madness we have suffered at the hands of the Ife scum? Do you believe a man would be as bold as to not just oppose his motherland, his kin, but to also have a hand in their destruction? The very blood that runs in his veins would cry vengeance. I am not in support of this. The gods have kept us this long; they will make a way for us still.” Akintade spoke with pain in his voice.

“The same gods that Ife prays to help make our defeat tarry no longer?” replied Akinsola.

“Akintade, we all feel the pain you feel, but are you not tired of this? This is our chance at victory. We must take it with both hands. You are not the only one who does not like the man, but do not be blinded by your pain.” Olugbenga added.

Modakeke had no king; all the decisions were made by a council of elders, and on this day the council adjourned taking votes to the next day. They needed time to think before casting a vote. Akintade could see he was fighting a losing battle, he felt somewhat betrayed by his fellow elders. How could they choose to rely on the enemy instead of believing in their own people?

There was no sleep to be had that night, not for Akintade. After tossing and turning for a while on his mat he knew what he had to do. He went to his son Adigun’s room, woke him and armed him with a mission that could not wait. He watched Adigun leave the compound that night as he assured himself he embodied the true sentiments of the Modakeke people.

The morning of the next day saw the emergency gong rung. Intruders, Ife spies had invaded the land and killed Ifagbemi during his routine jog through the bush paths right before dawn. But how did they know where to find him? Their scouts must have been on alert along the boundary between the two communities; they must have noticed his routine and planned an ambush. At least that was the word circulating the community. But the elders knew, there were no such scouts and there was no ambush. Two girls on their way to the stream had seen Adigun and his huge cousin returning from the bush shortly before dawn.

Akinsola cried for death, but how could the elders oblige, the victim was not one of their own, and the architect was one of them, everyone knew it but only Akinsola admitted it. There was nothing to be done, blood is thicker than water, and Ifagbemi was no blood of theirs.

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