attempted to squash any signs of rebellion from villagers who didnât want to pay their annual tributes, he solved riddles Anuje liked to set to amuse himself. All to no avail, Odion was not even a crumb on his fatherâs plate. Through the years, he longed for his fatherâs approval.
Sometimes when Odion dozed at night, he imagined that a Mammy Water with her big tail wriggled into his head through his ear and like a broom sweeps dirt, swept away the faults his father saw,leaving behind multi-coloured scales that glittered like rare gems. Despite this, Odion continued to suffer under his fatherâs hand haunted by one dream; a human heart swelling, then shrinking on a copper plate engraved in a foreign language and his father eating the heart with his bare hands before releasing his bloody mouth to the kingdomâs sky. He never asked Anuje to whom that heart belonged.
Years later Odion, now a young man, stumbled on Anuje in one of his rooms, clutching at his throat and gesturing wildly for help. Aware in that moment of being the only person his father needed and the only one who could help him Odion stood rooted to the spot, basking in his fatherâs weakness. Something exchanged between father and son that was worse than death tapping you on the shoulder. Anuje had been poisoned. Fully aware his son had no intention to help; with his last breath he cursed him.
After Anuje returned to the ground, flesh to dust, Odion was left still chasing a ghost. And even as king he heard the mocking laughter of his fatherâs ghost sneaking through the gaps in the palace gates and laying claim to the Obaâs chair.
And so against the advice of the head councilman and private berating of his priest, Odion insisted on marrying Adesua. âSuch insolence Oba! She is not fit for marriage and will embarrass the palace. Think of your reputation!â Odion could no more explain his choice of a new bride as he could the desire that drove him to be king. Seeing her for the first time reminded him of a stalk that refused to be bent by the wind and for reasons unknown to him he equated such strength of character to mean loyalty. Adesua bid goodbye to everything she knew. To days spent exploring and wondering where her adventurous feet would take her, to nights around a fire listening to her fatherâs stories while Mama threw in a word here and there. Goodbye to old friendships and maybe blossoming new ones.
Her village rejoiced, their daughter had been chosen. If Adesua, a beautiful young woman, but one who walked purposefully rather than swung her hips to catch a young manâs eye and preferred playing with animals to learning recipes, could become queen, then therewas hope for all their daughters! But there was a muted uproar, too. Within the palace walls vicious whispers circulated amongst courtiers, noblemen and women like a plague amidst its victims. Preparations were made to celebrate the kingâs new bride under what struck Adesua as false jollity. Some people smiled but were not really happy. Others seemed to welcome her with open arms but their embraces left her cold.
In the days before the wedding Adesua paced the palace floors with a lump in her throat no amount of spit swallowing would push down. She wished her Papa and Mama had never brought her to the ceremony but wishing could not erase what had already come to pass. In the palace walls something dark hatched in the stomachs of hungry creatures growing small, ambitious tentacles, whispering to body organs at night. Adesua prayed and pleaded with the Gods, feeling like a small stone catapulted into a dense forest.
During the night before the wedding, after pre-celebrations had slowed to a close and the trees sunburnt leaves still trembled with the last notes of music, Oba Odion wound his way through the back routes of the palace. Benin was beautifully shrouded in a feverish orange glow, as if the lines of the buildings would shift beneath
Sometimes when Odion dozed at night, he imagined that a Mammy Water with her big tail wriggled into his head through his ear and like a broom sweeps dirt, swept away the faults his father saw,leaving behind multi-coloured scales that glittered like rare gems. Despite this, Odion continued to suffer under his fatherâs hand haunted by one dream; a human heart swelling, then shrinking on a copper plate engraved in a foreign language and his father eating the heart with his bare hands before releasing his bloody mouth to the kingdomâs sky. He never asked Anuje to whom that heart belonged.
Years later Odion, now a young man, stumbled on Anuje in one of his rooms, clutching at his throat and gesturing wildly for help. Aware in that moment of being the only person his father needed and the only one who could help him Odion stood rooted to the spot, basking in his fatherâs weakness. Something exchanged between father and son that was worse than death tapping you on the shoulder. Anuje had been poisoned. Fully aware his son had no intention to help; with his last breath he cursed him.
After Anuje returned to the ground, flesh to dust, Odion was left still chasing a ghost. And even as king he heard the mocking laughter of his fatherâs ghost sneaking through the gaps in the palace gates and laying claim to the Obaâs chair.
And so against the advice of the head councilman and private berating of his priest, Odion insisted on marrying Adesua. âSuch insolence Oba! She is not fit for marriage and will embarrass the palace. Think of your reputation!â Odion could no more explain his choice of a new bride as he could the desire that drove him to be king. Seeing her for the first time reminded him of a stalk that refused to be bent by the wind and for reasons unknown to him he equated such strength of character to mean loyalty. Adesua bid goodbye to everything she knew. To days spent exploring and wondering where her adventurous feet would take her, to nights around a fire listening to her fatherâs stories while Mama threw in a word here and there. Goodbye to old friendships and maybe blossoming new ones.
Her village rejoiced, their daughter had been chosen. If Adesua, a beautiful young woman, but one who walked purposefully rather than swung her hips to catch a young manâs eye and preferred playing with animals to learning recipes, could become queen, then therewas hope for all their daughters! But there was a muted uproar, too. Within the palace walls vicious whispers circulated amongst courtiers, noblemen and women like a plague amidst its victims. Preparations were made to celebrate the kingâs new bride under what struck Adesua as false jollity. Some people smiled but were not really happy. Others seemed to welcome her with open arms but their embraces left her cold.
In the days before the wedding Adesua paced the palace floors with a lump in her throat no amount of spit swallowing would push down. She wished her Papa and Mama had never brought her to the ceremony but wishing could not erase what had already come to pass. In the palace walls something dark hatched in the stomachs of hungry creatures growing small, ambitious tentacles, whispering to body organs at night. Adesua prayed and pleaded with the Gods, feeling like a small stone catapulted into a dense forest.
During the night before the wedding, after pre-celebrations had slowed to a close and the trees sunburnt leaves still trembled with the last notes of music, Oba Odion wound his way through the back routes of the palace. Benin was beautifully shrouded in a feverish orange glow, as if the lines of the buildings would shift beneath
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