With another passing night, chaos ripped the small town apart as a shrill cry pierced the cold air; another soul had bowed to the chilling hands of death.
Sulking babes left abandoned to their fate while their mothers stared into the emptiness of the dark sky; bravest of men had gone to other worlds and the children had been left to roam. Even the maidens were not left out as they found succor in the arms of the young lads.
For the people of Opohri, Sex was not a mere word; it was a regular phenomenon, a frequent event that the youths used to replace the lost souls, even though the available ones spent time seeking attention.
And in the heart of this now-forlorn community once lived Abena, the harbinger, the one who had foretold the bad omen that now plagued them; the omen known by the people as the big man’s curse.
***
Long before now the indigenes of Opohri had, in their ignorance, enjoyed a peaceful life.
The ground yielded crops and the streams flowed calmly but with the appearance of the first black streaks in the streams, everything changed.
In their ignorance, they ignored it and called it waste from the shop of Oroma, the blacksmith. But when the first person died; they had a rethink.
River pollution was unheard of and the villagers had to cry to the Ovie for mercy.
“Urhobo wado!”
“Eh!”
“Urhobo wado!”
“Eh!”
“Urhobo wado!”
“Ehhhhhhhhh!” The villagers responded to the Ovie’s greetings.
The Ovie was their traditional leader and they trusted him to proffer a solution to their problem.
Looking around to ensure he had their full attention, he continued “I have listened to your complaints and I have heard your cries. But I must confess, you are not alone in this dilemma because I have felt your pain,” then moving to stand amidst the people and causing a few heads to turn his way he finished. “This problem has affected my family too; the river Okwagbe is now polluted.”
“Ehnnnnnnnnnnn?!” the exclamations began.
“Oghenebiko!”
“Chai!”
This was unheard of, hence the exclamations. The Okwagbe River was assigned to the royal family because the people believed the gods had blessed it by causing it to flow from the shrine of Erivwin’s; one of the town’s highly revered divinities.
“Oteri! Oteri! It’s okay,” Otota, the spokesman of the Elders council commanded, ensuing silence again.
“My people, we would put a stop to this as soon as possible! The council of elders has decided to present a sacrifice on Edurhe, the fourth day of the week, to the divinities Edjo and Erhan. We know that the gods are not asleep and we promise you that help is coming!”
The Ovie tried to assure his people and he raised his staff for emphasis, but while his hand seemed strong, his heart quivered for he was afraid, he did not understand what was happening. But he was sure of two things: the gods were unhappy with their town and this had started when the big men had first come.
“Urhobo wado!” a young man in his late twenties greeted as he stood up, then prostrating before the Ovie he saluted the older man.
“Oviemé,” he began “For now what do we do? Our people say Urhieri Warri vwakokodo (Warri river is deep), Urhie r’Arhavarienkpevwiere (Arhavwarien river is shallow). Oviemé, our people are dying. There is no good water to drink.”
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OVIEYA√ (Completed)
Short Story[COMPLETED] The discovery of black streaks in the ceremonious river was the last straw on the camels back for the people of Opohri. The big men promised succor but peace is temporary in the hands of the enemy. When all hope is lost they realised he...
