If you no gimme, I no go take
Only your love I appreciate
-No Kissing Baby, Patoranking & Sarkodie
...
Papa was a typical Yoruba man. At his age, he had already gained a potbelly, mostly from drinking palm wine and eating pounded yam all the time. A sturdy man, he was swift in his steps, inspite of the potbelly, and had his lips permanently pressed in a thin, ugly line.
It was strange to think that he had once wooed Mama Abebi, but no one bothered to think about that. He was a hunter, during the night, and a farmer by day. A stern man, he was quick to distribute punishments on whoever bothered to disobey him, wife or child, yet slow to give cowries for anything his wives asked for.
So when Abebi saw the large pouch of cowries that her Papa had given to Mama for the shopping, she couldn't mask her surprise.
"You're surprised abi? Your papa wants one of you to catch the eye of the Oba. If one of you do, and I pray to the gods that it would be you, this one that I'm carrying in my wrapper, would be nothing compared to what the King would give to us." Her Mama explained gleefully as they left the house early the next day. Mama refused to let Mama Yetunde know about her plans, part of the usual rivalry between the two wives.
The children knew it was because Papa called Mama Yetunde to his hut more often than he called Mama Abebi. When it came to food, Mama Abebi was his favourite, but to lay with one of his wives, Mama Yetunde was his first pick. She couldn't blame him, the second wife was still young, her breasts were still firm, her stamina still going strong, but that didn't stop the jealousy.
So she cornered Papa first, getting as much money as she could for her only remaining daughter Abebi. Mama Abebi had brought ten children into this world, three that had to be sent back to the gods, and the other seven, Oshun was generous to let her have them. As Abebi was her only remaining daughter, she was going to make sure she married the Oba.
Being the in-law of the King? Now Mama Yetunde would be nothing compared to her.
...
After walking about the market square, looking at eager women pushing their tie and dye fabrics into their faces, Abebi was finally happy when Mama picked one. It was a two piece wrapper, one for her breasts, and the other as a skirt. She liked the pattern of blue and white on it and would have loved the attire if it wasn't for the event she had to wear it to.
Mama had made sure the bottom wrapper was cut to reach just below her knee, saying that men loved modest women, yet she would tie it tight so it showed off her hips. Mama also made an appointment with the local hairdresser, one of the best in the kingdom, begging her to please do something about Abebi's short and uneven hair. After getting various beads for her hands, waists and ankles, they finally got home.
Mama warned her to keep silent about it to everyone, and dismissed her for the day, which was good because there was something Abebi wanted to do.
Walking deep in the forest, Abebi knew the trail by heart, and knew the exact tree that she would be going to. This happened once a full moon to avoid suspicion, but every evening, before Mama began to make dinner, Abebi made her way into the forest to meet him.
"My Lord, are you there?" She called out gently, afraid that someone else would be there and catch her in the act. For a young maiden herself to meet with an unmarried man in a secluded place, that was as good as prostitution.
"Abebi?" His deep voice called and her heart missed a few beats.
"That is my name." She replied, walking closer to where he was. "My Lord." She greeted, going on her two knees.
"Rise Abebi, you do not know how happy I am to see you again." He replied and she smiled shyly.
"I am happy to see you too my Lord, I was afraid when you left for another war, but I should have known that you would always come back with the heads of your enemies." She praised him and his lips curved up just a little bit. If not for the fact that she was used to his manner of smiling, she would have thought it was a sneer.
Her lover was the chief warrior, fierce and fearless, and did not waste his muscles in doing such pointless things like smiling and laughing. That was for women to do, but when he was around Abebi, he reserved the little curve of his lips for her. A tall, built man, he was only older than Abebi by a decade, yet he understood her more than any other person she knew.
"Your belief in me is overwhelming my love, but tell me, there seems to be something wrong with you. You have been shifting on your foot since you arrived. Are you not happy to see me again?" He asked in concern, although his face gave no emotion away.
"Oh no my Lord, I am always happy to see you. I cannot wait for the day that I would see you every time I open my eyes in the morning, and before I close my eyes at night." She cried hurriedly, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.
"Then what is wrong Abebi?" He asked again, although he did not touch her. Sh was not yet his wife, and he could not taint her until he had the right to. All he could do was look, but he was forbidden to touch.
"You cannot come and ask for my hand in a full moon from now as planned." She said sadly.
"Oh, I was about to tell you that too. I am leaving tomorrow on business," she didn't need to ask what the business was, she knew it was war, "and so I can only come in two full moons from now." He replied.
"Oh my Lord! You must be careful. Although that is not the reason I wanted to give." She said.
"Because of the beauty pageant announced by the Oba?" He asked and she nodded.
"My family is preparing us all for the pageant seriously, and it would have to pass before my Papa considers another suitor." She explained. "So after the pageant passes, you can come and ask for my hand."
"And what if the Oba picks you instead, to be his wife?"
"The gods forbid it! I would rather kill myself than be the wife of any other man but you." She snapped immediately.
"Abebi, watch your words." He scolded. "The gods are watching."
"I apologize my Lord."
"Let us wait till after the pageant, then I will come for you." He promised.
"And if by an unfortunate circumstance, the Oba picks me-"
"Look at me Abebi," he used his index finger to raise her head, their brown eyes locking. This was the first time he had ever touched her, and the feeling of his skin, combined with the way his rich voice pronounced her name, sent unexplainable feelings down her spine. "I will come for you."
"Yes my Lord."
...
"Abebi my child." Mama hummed as she rubbed more locally made shea butter on her face, making her black skin glow. "My only remaining daughter."
The day of the pageant was already here, and since the first cock crow, Abebi and Mama had been preparing, just like every other mother and daughter in the whole kingdom. They got to the stream very early in the morning, and it was already crowded with mothers watching their daughters bath with scrutiny in their eyes. Using the usual ose dudu, Abebi washed her body until her mother was satisfied.
Now they were in their dimly lit hut, as Abebi was adorned with all forms of beads, from her head, neck, waist, down to her ankles. Her mother had purchased shea butter from the one of the best local beauticians, leaving no stone unturned. Even her unruly hair was neatly done in a tight koroba hairstyle that was pulling at her scalp. Now Abebi was sitting on a stool, glowing and ready to be given away, and from what she saw the reflection in the calabash of water that Mama showed her, she felt beautiful.
"Abebi. May the gods be with you."
"Ase."
"May they give you favour before the King."
"Ase." The gods forbid it!
"May he look upon you and see beauty."
"Ase." Hopefully he would be repelled by the smell of this shea butter.
"May he marry you."
"Ase." I hope not, I really do not want to be the eighth wife of a pot bellied king who would soon join his ancestors.
"May you bear him sons."
"Ase, Mama let's go so we would not be late." She quickly said, stopping her mothers prayers and praying fervently in her heart that all the gods were busy while her mother was praying.
"You are right my daughter. Your papa wants to inspect you all before we leave for the palace square. Let us go, do not eat anything oh! Do not ruin your beautiful appearance." Her mother instructed.
Abebi ignored the rumbling in her stomach and nodded obediently, following Mama out of the hut.
...
She felt like a woman on a mission as she hid behind the palm fronds that hopefully hid her from anyone's view. After arriving the palace square, they had all gone to take their places, but instead of Abebi to line up like all the eager girls in the kingdom, she had found a spot to hide and had been there for a while.
She could hear the sounds of the drums and shekere, as the people hollered for the maidens showing off their beauty to the King.
She was so tired of squatting, when would this stupid pagaent end? She hoped Mama and Papa did not notice her absence, or the punishment of death would be minor compared to what they would do to her.
Shifting in her position, she froze when she heard the heavy footsteps of a guard coming closer to her. He pushed the palm fronds away and glared at her with so much intensity.
"You there! You have defied a direct order from the King, and the gods. Come with me." He said harshly, dragging her up with his rough hands and pulling her towards the crowd of people, ignoring her protests and cries.
They interrupted the display of Dotun, the daughter of a chief, as the guard dropped her before the King.
"Oba, I found this one hiding in some palm fronds just behind the square." He said smugly.
"Are you not a virgin maiden?" The Oba's voice came out sharp and clear.
"I am." She said, keeping her head down in respect.
"Then you know the punishment, throw her in the dungeons. After the celebration, we would deal with her." He dismissed and the guard nodded, grabbing her up.
"Wait." The priest suddenly called out from the mat he was sitting on. He had been silent during the whole celebration, and Oba Eniafe was beginning to think that his chosen bride did not exist. "That is her Oba. She is the one."
Abebi froze in the grip of the guard, then tried to push the guard to move an take her to the dungeon. The dungeon would be better than such cruel fate. The muscular man however, did not budge, and brought her back to the front of the King.
"What is your name?" The priest asked.
"Abebi, from the house of Adeyemo." She replied in a shaking voice.
"Well Abebi, come closer and greet your new husband." The priest ordered, gesturing to the Oba. The latter had now stood up, looking proudly at his new son producing machine, and could not wait to lay with her.
She burst into tears.
...
Uh-oh, poor Abebi. Picture of Abebi at the side though.
What do you think about how the pagaent turned out?
And Abebi's secret lover 😉
General thoughts?
Very long chapter huh. I could not stop writing! 😆😅😅
Bride Price moved to $474 in Historical Fiction! Unbelievable!!! 😊😊😊.
Ose dudu means black soap. Its local soap made by the Yorubas and is still really good and well used till today.
Ase means so shall it be.
Shekere is a musical instrument. Its a calabash adorned with beads so when it you shake it, it makes a musical sound.
Any questions?
Advice, suggestions, criticism, they are welcome. Let me know what I'm doing wrong or right.
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- Olori Timi