DANUSHIKI

CHAPTER ONE SAVAGE MEMORIES He felt his feet deep in the mud but cared less about them, while ignoring omataina ele[1]that lay majestically at the four edges of the dancing ground. In the distance, they seemed to be looking in his direction at intervals while paying no attention to the dancing maiden.   Four metres from where he concealed himself, Danushiki saw her and immediately knew she was the one for him. The way she turned, twirled, shook and vibrated to the musical sounds, while other girls surrounding her looked on with admiration and envy on the large field. The way she captivated her peers and the mysterious elderly male musicians, with her dancing made him want her more. He was soon hypnotized by her dancing which was done with ease and precision like an average king cobra whose head was up, with the hood spread and swaying sideways. He watched her waist move like a palm frond in the wind, and paid less attention to other parts of her glistening skin. The movement of her waist and the rattling of her white waist beads could make the daughter of King Herod feel like an amateur dancer, due to the effortlessness in which it was been done. He continued watching for 15 more minutes, and was soon released from her ‘spell’ when Sarme’s dancing reached a graceful stop, and was immediately followed by a loud applause from the other girls. It was at that moment Danushiki remembered that no male was permitted to be anywhere near the dancing ground, for whatsoever reason, because whenever they danced, they showed reverence to the gods and goddesses of Shaingwa Island. As he walked back home, he vowed to make Sarme and no other girl his lifelong woman no matter the cost. __________________________________   The horse finally stopped neighing but Danushiki could barely hear it because of the pain he felt due to the deep wound on his right side. “...from the break of dawn to the setting of the sun, you’ll fight till you drop…” These were the only words he kept recollecting, while forcing the horse to lie sideways before tucking the child carefully in the horse’s bosom… *                                              *                                              * From the cliffs in the western part of Shaingwa to the vast body of water which surrounded and separated the large island from the outside world, one could clearly see the burning sun and the birds flying in the sky. Gusts of wind blew dust in all directions, while several women worked on the fields harvesting corn, barley, millet, sorghum, and other crops in many farms. The `hidden` island of Shaingwa had had no visitors in a long while, and wasn’t expecting any at the moment as the gods and goddesses which the people of Shaingwa deeply revered, punished severely, anyone who had any dealing of any sort with an outsider. The land consisted of vast plains and numerous valleys, which were demarcated by a long line of palm trees, which separated the farmlands, plains and valleys from the part in which the people lived. It seemed to be a normal state of monotony for the habitants of the entire island, but little did they know that the future which awaited them would forever leave an indelible impression on them for a long time to come. And so the story begins… The year was 1320 in the island of Shaingwa, home to more than 7500 inhabitants who had been hardened by the harsh weather while tilling the soil, rearing domestic animals and hunting the wild ones, raising children, and several other ingenious activities to keep body and soul together. It was not difficult to adapt to the daily lifestyle in Shaingwa as one grew, due to the informal training a child received from his parents, as well as the ‘education’ received in the sacred grove between the ages of six and twelve. The sacred grove was a frightening and mysterious place to be at any time of the day. It was a large space carved inside the rock which was as big as an underground Olympic stadium and housed the statues of past warrior commanders in its encircling ‘spectator stand’. In the centre of the space sat a large 250 litre steel pot which always contained fresh human blood, from which male and female interchanging voices, laid down the island’s customs and traditions from one generation to the next. These voices also conversed with anyone who had a problem or wished to thrash an issue with the gods and goddesses of Shaingwa. King cobras could be seen slithering and crawling through the shrubs at the base of each statue inside the sacred grove. The entire area surrounding the large steel pot was covered with diamonds except a footpath measuring two feet in width, which connected the inside part of the sacred grove with the outside. One of the thrilling features of the sacred grove was its ability to keep its insides illuminated at any the time of the day. A careful observation of the ‘spectator’ stand which housed the statues of past warrior commanders would reveal a single space which overlooked the carpet of diamonds. Although the Shaingwans knew these stones were precious and easy to dig out from the ground, they also knew the consequences of using them for personal or any purpose declared forbidden by the two voices in the large steel pot – instant death from the gods and goddesses of the island. Twenty-one middle-aged women simply known as ‘guardians’ looked after the sacred grove and its immediate surroundings, and also ensured orderliness among the several persons who went inside daily, to converse with the voices in the large steel pot. Apart from the diamonds on the ground inside the sacred grove, it was never unusual to see ‘extra’ two dozen diamonds floating in a clockwise motion, two metres above the large steel pot whenever a conversation began between an inhabitant and the voices inside the pot. The floating diamonds soon become still immediately the inhabitant had walked out of the sacred grove, or when it was empty.   Sitting on a low stool, late in the afternoon, Darjer worked by a small fire scraping ram horns in order to make a necklace for his eighteen year old son Danushiki. His son had come of age, according to the traditions of Shaingwa, to undergo a sacred training-c*m-initiation, alongside other boys of his age in a place simply known as Cobra Land. Any durable object was permitted by the gods and goddesses to be used in the making of such necklaces for the prospective warriors except diamonds by their fathers, and no other person. Exactly three weeks ago, he remembered how he trembled that fateful afternoon inside the sacred grove, which no one entered unless he was expressly permitted to by the guardians of the sacred grove. At a certain point inside the sacred grove, he couldn’t feel the covering of the white woven cloth wrapped around his body. At his age it could not be said that he was going there for the first time, but the aura of the place simply awed him with each visit. While walking inside the sacred grove with his son, he watched the diamonds suspended above the large steel pot, as he kept reverencing the island’s gods and goddesses in his heart. When it was his time to be told of his son’s destiny he took a deep breath and stood at a respectful distance from the large steel pot, while his son stood beside him. All of a sudden, a deep male voice emanating from inside the pot ordered the both of them to come closer to it.. Darjer felt a deep chill as he stopped inches from the large steel pot, while a king cobra slithered some inches from his right foot. “Your sson is the chossen one.” This was another reason the sacred grove awed him – the voices from the large steel pot.  Whether it was a male or female voice, it always sounded as if a hissing king cobra was ‘talking’ with its head submerged in the blood the pot contained. He knew very well that no inhabitant on the island dared to speak while a voice spoke, until he or she was expressly permitted by a voice in the pot. The punishment for such an act was slow agonising death while the blood of such a person was mysteriously drained out of his body, through his ears, eyes nostrils and mouth and anus. “Ssix years from now,” a male voice continued, “Shaingwa will be attacked by strangers…pink-facced sstrangerss, for its treasuress, and your sson will lead the liberation of Shaingwa through the sspecial powerss of transformation that will be given to him during his initiation in Cobra Land.” Darjer and Danushiki exchanged glances, without daring to utter any word while the suspended diamonds kept rotating. “But…” a female voice now boomed, “he will transform into a sstatue the day the lasst battle iss fought and won in Shaingwa…and that’ll be the last time any stranger will ever locate or disturb Shaingwa again.” Father and son were relieved as the voices stopped talking and the blood which had been bubbling inside the large steel pot soon ceased; another indication that the meeting was over. The blunt and abrupt nature of the gods and goddesses thrilled the people of Shaingwa because they always went straight to the point without beating about the bush, when there was a man or woman standing before the large steel pot with his heart in his mouth. Although Darjer was in his sixties, tall, thin and very alert at any hour of the day, he had never been more terrified and confused in his entire life, as he was that moment. Listening to some hissing king cobras made him think of the circumstances which surrounded his son’s birth. Two hours had passed after Danushiki’s birth that fateful day and it looked as if he wasn’t going to survive the strange ailment he’d been born with. The strange ailment seemed to weaken him by the moment, until two guardians from the sacred grove arrived with a large basket and beckoned on him to follow them outside his house. When they were out of earshot, they whispered to him and walked back to the sacred grove. Thereafter, Darjer fetched a sharp knife and skinned the python in the basket they’d left behind, before proceeding to wrap the baby with it. He ignored his wife’s whimpering and proceeded to the sacred grove with the little boy in the snake skin. Thereafter, he placed him seven feet before the steel pot, and kept looking back every minute until he was sure the sacred grove was no longer in sight. While thinking of how best to explain what he’d just done to his dear wife, he diverted his thoughts to the python he’d been skinning some moments ago. He still could not believe what he’d seen as he worked on the large brown reptile. It didn’t resist, nor try to attack him as killed it, rather it remained still until it finally shut its eyes. The next morning, after a sleepless night, he woke his wife who had cried herself to sleep, and instructed her to get up and proceed to the sacred grove where she’d retrieve her baby. Darjer had used the rest of that day to reflect on what his wife had promised to do to herself if she arrived at the sacred grove and realized her baby had died due to the inability of the gods and goddesses to heal him of the sickness he’d been born with. He smiled whenever he saw her breastfeed the little boy afterwards and imagined how a woman who had just given birth could think of crying herself to death, because she’d lost her baby to a strange ailment.     [1] Omataina is the Igala translation for ‘leopard’ while ele means four; ‘Omataina ele means four leopards.