THE JOURNEY….
EPISODE ONE
IRETIOLA
In the realm where love and blood entwine,
A story of alchemy, a love divine,
Two souls fused together, forever they’ll be,
A union of passion, an eternal decree.
(Chorus)
Oh, hear this dirge, a tale of love untold,
Where hearts beat as one, with alchemy’s hold,
Through blood and sacrifice, a love does flow,
In their darkest moments, love’s ember shall glow.
As I recited the Blood and love dirge for Ajoke, I knew this was an exercise in futility. I am an avid believer of leaving things as they were. I believed that whatever had happened three days ago should be left for the gods to avenge. Our lives had been predestined. Maybe it was their fate to end like this. Maybe theirs was to pave ways for whatever new chapter that was to come. I admit that she wasn’t doing this for selfish reasons. I understood that this was to open the eyes of her people to enlightenment. This was her own way of telling everyone that people had a right to be whoever and whatever they wanted. This was her way of letting society know that there were people, people who wished that their neighbors, colleagues, relatives and any other set of humans they stumbled upon could live their lives unhindered by the dictates of society. She wanted everyone to know that there was a voice for the defenseless. She wanted to prove that irrational actions based on illiteracy, fear, anger or ancient laws could solve nothing. But wasn’t this spell too elaborate?
(Verse 2)
In chambers dimly lit, their secrets confide,
Silent whispers merging, love cannot hide,
As their blood mingles, a bond so rare,
Alchemy’s essence, love’s burdens they bear.
(Chorus)
Oh, hear this dirge, a tale of love untold,
Where hearts beat as one, with alchemy’s hold,
Through blood and sacrifice, a love does flow,
In their darkest moments, love’s ember shall glow.
In this scenario where Ajoke is attempting to bring back her son and his lover through the use of the blood and love alchemy, she might face several challenges and obstacles. These could include:
1: KNOWLEDGE AND SKILL: The love and blood alchemy is an ancient spell that requires extensive knowledge and expertise. Ajoke must have a deep understanding of the alchemical processes involved, the necessary ingredients, and the rituals or spells required to perform it effectively. Obtaining this level of understanding can be challenging.
2: ACCESS TO RESOURCES: This spell typically involves acquiring specific types of blood or bodily fluids, which might be difficult to obtain. She might face challenges in locating the required sources, especially if they are rare or forbidden.
3: LEGAL AND MORAL IMPLICATIONS: Alchemical practices involving blood have been banned even before her mother was born. They are illegal and ethically questionable in our jurisdiction and culture. Depending on the setting, Ajoke would face legal consequences or societal backlash if her attempts are discovered.
4: EMOTIONAL TOLL: Attempting to bring back a deceased loved one can take a significant emotional toll on the individual performing the alchemy. She might face internal struggles, grief, guilt and doubts along the way which can hinder her focus and progress.
5: UNPREDICTABILITY AND CONSEQUENCES: Alchemy, particularly when dealing with comlex matters like this, can have unpredictable outcomes or unintended consequences. She might have issues in controlling or foreseeing the consequences of her actions, potentially leading to unforeseen side effects.
These and several others were reasons why she should have thought this over twice. Overall, attempting to bring back loved ones through unconventional means like The Blood and Love alchemy is likely to present significant challenges and hindrances that Ajoke would have to Navigate and overcome.
But she was ready to risk it.
{Bridge)
Across the ethereal plane, their pulses entwined,
Their love, an elixir, a potion refined,
Their souls intertwined, in an alchemical dance,
A love deserving, of a second chance.
(Verse 3)
But love comes at a cost, both bleeding and bruised,
Their hearts intertwined, yet destiny confused,
In love and blood’s alchemy, they’ll pay the toll,
For love’s eternal cycle, may fracture the soul.
(Chorus)
Oh, hear this dirge, a tale of love untold,
Where hearts beat as one, with alchemy’s hold,
Through blood and sacrifice, a love does flow,
In their darkest moments, love’s ember shall glow.
I didn’t want to view her actions from the angle of a mother whose son was caught in the web of events as unsettling as this. What had happened, had happened. All we could do now was to leave the dead to rest, not pushing that which was beyond our power. As her late son’s governess, I understood the rationale behind everything. No mother can bear the loss of her 19year old son but this was beyond motherhood and its ties. It was deeper. Laolu and his lover had desecrated the land and its laws. They had to pay their debts. It was something that should not be debated. As his governess, I was the only one allowed to make him see life as what it really was. My duties were to teach him to see things as they were and never ever to view anyone or anything through rose-tinted spectacles. Life is a dirty game. We are accountable to and responsible for any decision and choices we made yet we must make them. Laolu had realized this and had chosen the easier way out.
I looked at Ajoke now. She had begun shaking profusely. She was shaking so much her headgear was about to fall off. The spirits were here now. They had hearkened to our invitations and were here to listen to our requests. But ours wasn’t a request. She wanted to implore them to back her up with their powers and grant her wish. Her wish of getting back her only son. I hope they made her see things as they really were. Right now, I must concentrate on my dirges.
(Outro)
May their love’s alchemy forever transcend,
Bound by blood and passion, their journey won’t end,
In this dirge of love, we’ll forever remember,
The fusion of love and blood, an alchemical splendor,
AYOBAMI
I could still feel the hate in her words.
I knew she relished the events of three days ago. I felt her cold words stab at my soul again and again as she congratulated me for a job well done. It was even a job. She didn’t see it as a generous assistance to her. To her cause. She had me spill contents I had promised Laolu I would never breathe to another soul. I and Laolu were so close that one would mistake us for siblings but I had betrayed him. In fact, I was her spy.
Why did Iya mi hate them so much? Why did she want to bring the family of the Oba Obirin down at all costs? What was the bone of contention between these women? In my own view, Iya mi was the antagonist of this whole plot. All Madam Ajoke, as she liked to be called, did was treat our family with love and respect. Why couldn’t my mother see her actions as genuine as they were? The Oba Obirin had even made us a part of her family by asking us to move into the palace.
I regret my actions, sincerely. I regret being used against the only person who made me feel like I was another human with capabilities and I could always dream possibilities. I wish I could reverse my actions. I wish I could push back the hands of time and correct my mistakes. I thought things would get better with time but I still need him, why is that? He is the only image in my mind so I still see him, why is that? I admit it, I miss him. I want him around but he is far away. I have sent him far away.
I sold my best friend out because I want to regain my lost honor. No. It was more than an honor. It was power and might. It was prestige and magnificence to be the first son and forerunner of one of the oldest and the most thriving Yoruba dynasties. Our family had a deep connection with the Ooni of Ife and the Alakija family. It was the family of the richest woman in Africa.
When Baami departed this world, I was in Cotonou in search of greener pastures. The news had gotten to me over there and I ignored it. This was where I lost my place, threw it away, rather. It was forbidden for a first son or daughter to miss his or her father’s funeral. Even with all of our laws, rules and regulations, our family could still be counted as one of the poorest families in our vicinity. What was the use of them, then? Who knew if breaking this one would end up in my success? I wanted to focus on my hustle and return home an entirely different man. I believed I would strike gold. An extremely huge sum. I would return home to transform our lives and everyone would forget that Ayobami was absent at his father’s funeral. At the end of the day, it was all wishful thinking. I returned home after 16 months much more wretched and penniless with more scars than I had before I travelled. I returned and found out that my whole family had cut me off and wanted nothing to do with me. They all acted like we didn’t breathe the same air. I had no other option but to seek refuge at the palace. It was there I met Laolu, the late prince. A 17year old child with a happy smile, bright eyes and the most inquisitive mind I had ever encountered. He accommodated me for a while without his mother’s knowledge. Choking me with food and spoiling me with his unbiased friendship. Few weeks later, he took me out to his mother and told her my story. It was she who helped me make amends with my family. Regardless, I still lived like an outcast in my own household and immediate environment. I was treated with shame and contempt. Was it my fault life and good luck didn’t smile at me? Would you advise me to quit the streets and come home for a few days of feasting? I know they were prepared to use every trick in the book to hold me down in the village with them when I arrived. Every one needed an elder or eldest brother to look up to.
Iya mi saw my desperate attempts in trying to regain all I had lost and used me as a readily accessible portal into the deepest secrets of their friendship.
Everyone thought it was odd that nobody, except Chinedu, the orphan from the East, had been able to cheer Laolu up after his grandmother, our first Oba Obirin, transcended 16 moons ago. I had seen him grieve like a mad man, becoming spontaneous and violent all at once then calming down like a deflated balloon. His destruction tolls could amount to hundreds of thousands at a go and when calm, he could cry times two of the Nile, leaving his eyes puffy, red and swollen. But after one contact with Chinedu, the wheelbarrow boy at the market, everything changed. He became much brighter and happier. Everyone noted this welcomed change. He visited Laolu regularly and their conversations and laughter would last hours. It got to a point where he would not eat if he hadn’t seen Chinedu. His temper would be involved if he found out Chinedu had eaten before coming.
Unknown to them, the blossoming love affair had attracted all eyes. Everyone knew what it was but no one was bold enough to speak his mind. As long it didn’t disturb the Oba Obirin, his mother, it shouldn’t disturb you. We all held our peace and watched in hopes that there would be one reason, one valid reason to break their friendship but it never came.
Only one person had seen this don’t-ask-don’t-tell scheme as a sharp knife to stab Ajoke and her household: Iya mi. It was here I came into the picture. I had unrestricted access to Laolu and his chambers even in his absence. We were still very close friends. My mother made me dig into their lives. She even made me monitor him in school and when he went out with friends. As I dug, Iya mi siphoned every tiny bit of information out of me. She was very particular about accuracy and time of occurrence. She wanted every occurrence spelled out in detail. And like a jigsaw, everything merged and became a whole picture in her hands. They were lovers.
Once complete, Iya mi did the unthinkable. She made me swear by Ogun and Sango that all my children would die mysterious deaths if I ever thought of exposing her. Pick the word ‘thought’. It wasn’t if I exposed her. It was if I ever considered telling any other person about what I did for her and what she did to the Royal family. After taking the oath, I reviewed it again. The only loophole in it was if I held my regrets in check, it wouldn’t affect me. Only regret could push me into opening my mouth and spilling my guts. But honestly, I regret my actions but I couldn’t speak out. On the brighter side, I will recover all I have lost and be free of the cares of this world.
After the oath, all she did was to skillfully circulate the information round town with three mouths. Rolake, Laraba and Boluwatife. Those girls were more active than any radio station in the whole of Nigeria. They did their job diligently and without pay.
They say that if the mountain will not go to Mohammed, Mohammed will have to go to the mountain. If the Oba Obirin will not speak about the abominable friendship thriving under her roof because of shame, they assumed, we should go and help her put a permanent end to it.
Just two days after the girls got the news, the villagers went to the palace to seek a discussion with their leader. Madam Ajoke had strolled out to calm the angry mob only to discover her son in their clutches. Where had they gotten him from? Everyone had his or her version of the story. Some said if they weren’t dealt with, they would initiate all their sons into the act. Others wanted them to be punished according to the law of the land. But deep down, what everyone wanted to hear was what verdict the Oba Obirin would place on her son. They wanted to know if her standards were really what she portrayed them to be. Iya mi had so arranged this scenario that it was impossible for the Oba Obirin to adjourn the case and do proper investigations. They were impatient and unwilling to listen to their leader. Everyone was charged.
She had no other choice but to let them go. She watched as her son was dragged and beaten like a common criminal. He was with no offence. They had no evidence to back their accusations. She watched as they tore their skins with a sharp red-hot knife for soul purification and easy passage into the great beyond. Their screams wounded her soul but could she stop them? It all unfolded like a dream before her aging eyes as her son and his supposed lover were pushed into a pit and buried alive. Buried with their scarred body and blindfolds.
There were times when the led spoke and the leader listened. It was these times the leader became the led.
My part in this whole drama is quite inconsequential and vey flat. I am sorry for my actions but cannot regret them. Iya mi had used that oath as a lesson for lifelong discipline. I shouldn’t talk anyhow. What had happened, had happened.
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