SCENE ONE
Light opens on five masquerades dancing on a stage—a revealing dance of skills, thrills and yells, punctuated by drumbeats. They disappear as the light quickly goes off. Coming on, we see a room, poorly lit and rough. Clothes lay all over the place, one above the other. In the room’s centre, lies the bed; on the bed are NDAA OKENTA, 62, and his new wife, PRICILLA, 27. As the drumbeats cease, she jerks up, screaming and panting. NDAA OKENTA is awoken by her scream.
NDAA OKENTA: You saw them again?
She nods.
NDAA OKENTA: How many are they now?
She raises her five fingers.
NDAA OKENTA: Okay. They are complete. Your eyes are well. [He turns his head to sleep].
PRICILIA: There is something you are not telling me, Ndaa.
NDAA OKENTA: Now you want to talk? I thought you woke up dumb.
She stares at him.
NDAA OKENTA: [Softening]. Sleep, we shall talk about this again in the morning. Nothing will ever make a lizard grow hairs.
She stands up from the bed and begins to gather her clothes inside her bag.
NDAA OKENTA: What do you think you are doing?
PRICILIA: I’m going home to my father.
NDAA OKENTA: Why?
PRICILIA: You ask why?
NDAA OKENTA: Yes.
PRICILIA: If you are not willing to tell me anything, my father will.
NDAA OKENTA: Your father has nothing in his coconut head, except coconut water.
PRICILIA: You lie.
NDAA OKENTA: Why do you think he calls me Ndaa?
Silence.
NDAA OKENTA: You have no mouth again? My grey hair is wisdom. The day you were born was the same day I told your father, “Iwuagwu, I will marry this child.” And here you are.
PRICILIA: Odozi made this marriage to happen, and not because of anything you said the day I was born.
NDAA OKENTA: Your mouth runs like river. Odozi did not teach you well.
PRICILIA: I don’t care.
NDAA OKENTA: They fed you poison in school. That’s why you are this spoilt. Didn’t I tell your father not to send you there? Now, look at who I married. But I just blame Odozi.
PRICILIA: Why did Odozi arrange a second marriage for you before packing out?
NDAA OKENTA: Her head is not coconut.
PRICILIA: You have said nothing.
NDAA OKENTA: Why didn’t you ask her?
PRICILIA: She said it’s for your good.
NDAA OKENTA: She’s right. It’s for my good, and yours too. In fact, she knows what is at stake.
PRICILIA: [Stops packing her things] What is at stake?
NDAA OKENTA: These are things you could have known long ago if your head was down, and if your mouth was shut.
PRICILIA: Tell me.
NDAA OKENTA: What do you think I do as Chief Priest of Ala?
PRICILIA: You preserve the affairs of the Ala in this village.
NDAA OKENTA: What else?
PRICILIA: [Thinks] I don’t know.
NDAA OKENTA: Keep thinking.
PRICILIA: I don’t know.
NDAA OKENTA: You have resigned to the fate of your ignorance?
Silence.
NDAA OKENTA: I believe you don’t know.
PRICILIA: Yes.
NDAA OKENTA: Because if you do, you won’t park those bags because you will leave nowhere.
PRICILIA: [Keeps her bag] Tell me, Ndaa.
NDAA OKENTA: I can never live without a woman in my life. Before I married Odozi, there was Akwaeke; before Akwaeke, there was Ulaku. I lived longer with Odozi than all of them, and that’s why she knows me better. When Odozi wanted to end my marriage of twenty years with her, she did the needful.
PRICILIA: The needful? Which is to get me?
NDAA OKENTA: You’re the lucky one.
PRICILIA: I am leaving today.
NDAA OKENTA: Only if you can. [He goes back to his bed].
PRICILIA: [Carries her bag and approaches the door and tries to force it open] Open this door for me, Ndaa.
NDAA OKENTA: Say me well to your father.
PRICILIA: The door is locked, I can’t open it.
NDAA OKENTA: Then sleep.
PRICILIA: What?
NDAA OKENTA begins to snore.
PRICILIA: [Goes to the bed and begins to shake him]. Open the door, Ndaa. [Begins to scream].
Ndaa Okenta drags her to the bed, ties her mouth, hands, and legs.
NDAA OKENTA: Let me see how I can’t have peace in this house. If your father had ears that hear, he would have listened. Now look at the poison they feed you. You think you can wake up under my arms one morning and go? Just like that? After all I have done for you?
Carries Pricilla from the bed and sits her on a chair.
NDAA OKENTA: [Begins to cry] I love you so much. I can buy the world for you. I can kill for you. Odozi saw this love burning in my eyes and she just knew it was her time to get you so she can go. I had a covenant with her, and by the time I married you, I broke the one I had with her and entered a fresh one with you. This covenant binds us. I did not need your consent to enter into it, but I will need your consent to break it. But we won’t break it yet. The day you die is the day I will die; the day I will die is the day you will die. So, this is what binds us. There are five cowries buried in your stomach that binds you to me. They are the five masquerades you see in your dream; they are your friends. When they dance, dance with them. That is how friends do.
The drums start beating. Ndaa Okenta begins to dance. Drums cease, he stops and bursts into laughter.
NDAA OKENTA: Pricy, Pricy, how are you doing? You’re doing well. [He laughs]. I am not laughing at you. I am laughing at that brother of mine who spent all his life in America but still has coconut water in his head. [To the audience] How can one spend all his life in America answering ‘Professor, Professor, Professor,’ and forget his umunna? He was told to server Ala by our father, but he ran way, and I took over the shrine many years ago. Now, oyibo doctors have told him there is something covering his belly and it will choke him and he will die soon. So, he is back home. He is back to die and be buried. That is when they remember home, when they want to die [He laughs]. Our land is now a funeral land. He is coming home to be buried and left his son is obodo oyibo—a son who does not know the pegs that separates my own boundaries and his father’s, a son that speaks with his nose; Iwanna, I gonna. I wanna eat eat, I gonna shit shit. [He laughs].
Pricy, Pricy, I am keeping you in this house for your safety. I mean, what if something happens to you outside? I would definitely be dead. Remember what binds us. Our troubles will be over the moment my brother dies. All his properties will be mine. Have you thought of us going to America and then sending his wife and his son back to the village? You don’t ever think about these things, Pricy, Pricy. Shine your eyes!
The drum starts beating again. As the drum beats faster, Ndaa Okenta dances even more, till light fades.
SCENE TWO
OJEMBA, 70, is Okenta’s brother, who has just returned from America. Ojemba’s house is adorned with all the ethereal of an American returnee. He sits on a wheelchair, and standing beside him is his wife, ORIAKU, 58.
OJEMBA: Why do I still have this feeling that you won’t keep all you promised?
ORIAKU: My word is my bond, Nna anyi. I wish the dead could see from the spirit world.
OJEMBA: I am not asking you what is binding you. You have failed enough for me to ever trust you. When you planned to keep Osinachi back in New Orleans against my order, I lost all the trust I had for you.
ORIAKU: I don’t like it when you judge me with my past. Allow the things of the past to remain in the past. Just face the future.
OJEMBA: I have no future, and you know it. The doctor said so. And why do you always act as if you are ignorant of my present predicament.
ORIAKU: It is our present predicament. Not yours alone.
OJEMBA: You are not suffering this cancer with me, are you? I am the one the doctor said has cancer that has spread across my lungs and stomach. I am the one they said will die soon. Not you.
ORIAKU: I am the one that vowed to live with you in sickness and in health.
OJEMBA: I see.
ORIAKU: Yes.
OJEMAB: I really see.
ORIAKU: Yes. `
OJEMBA: So, you will live with me but not to die with me?
ORIAKU: I don’t have cancer that has spread to my lungs and stomach.
OJEMBA: Exactly. What then is the aim of living with someone you can’t die with?
ORIAKU: You want me to die with you?
OJEMBA: Whatever!
ORIAKU: If I die with you, who will keep the promises I made?
OJEMBA: If you die with me, I won’t need anyone to keep the promises.
ORIAKU: You will.
OJEMBA: I won’t.
ORIAKU: You will.
OJEMBA: I won’t.
ORIAKU: I can die for you. But I won’t die with you.
OJEMBA: What do you mean?
ORIAKU: If my death will keep you living, I can die in your place. But as it is, you are the only one with a failing health. And someone needs to live and keep the other’s name and that is me.
OJEMBA: You are a master of words. You see how words sound so sweet in your mouth?
ORIAKU: I don’t see.
OJEMBA: But let’s be frank, will you keep the promises when I am gone?
ORIAKU: I will keep everything.
OJEMBA: You know I don’t like you when you make exaggerations.
ORIAKU: I am not exaggerating anything.
OJEMBA: If you are not exaggerating, then tell me my darling wife, how will you keep the promise of keeping my name alive when I am gone?
ORIAKU: I will compile all your plays in one big collection and republish. Your name ‘Ojemba Enweilo’ will be written boldly on it. It will be a must read for schools, and staged at universities.
OJEMBA: You don’t say. I will be so glad. No matter how small. I will be smiling from heaven. By then, I will be sitting beside Shakespeare, Ibsen, Sartre, Moliere and Camus. Oscar Wilde and his Ernest brothers will offer me the best jokes. I am sure Beckette will be waiting endlessly for me now, like Godot.
ORIAKU: Stop, Nna anyi, stop! [Crying].
There is a knock on the door. Oriaku goes and opens it.
ORIAKU: Welcome, Ndaa, please come in.
NDAA ODENTA: Husband and wife, why on earth will people keep hearing your voices? Every time, it’s one matter or the other.
OJEMBA: You can help me ask her why her words can’t just be her bond.
ORIAKU: You have started again. There is no single trust left in you for me?
NDAA ODENTA: One problem or the other.
OJEMBA: Okenta, ask her how she planned with Osinachi to stay over in America.
ORIAKU: He has a master’s degree to pursue in New Orleans. Why would he abandon it and come back here to sit in this house?
NDAA ODENTA: Ojemba, if your son is still going to school in America, why will you force him to come back?
OJEMBA: Who will bury me when I am gone? The doctor said it has spread over my lungs.
NDAA ODENTA: And your stomach too. ButOlisa gives life, not doctors.
OJEMBA: Olisa gave them wisdom to know when times are up.
ORIAKU: You have never been positive about your condition.
NDAA ODENTA: But all these shouldn’t make couples fight. In a morning like this when we have life, we should live it to the fullest in joy.
ORIAKU: I have asked him to learn how you put your family together; I have never heard Pricilla shout up and down like I do.
NDAA OKENTA smiles.
OJEMBA: Why don’t you be like Pricilla?
ORIAKU: You won’t let me. Why don’t you be like Ndaa?
NDAA ODENTA: It’s enough. My Pricy Pricy is very understanding. That’s what you both need.
OJEMBA: One day, Okenta will bring Pricilla in this house to teach you how to be a proper wife. America entered your head.
ORIAKU: Ndaa comes here every day, yet you haven’t learnt how to be a proper husband like him.
NDAA ODENTA: Enough. It is Olisa that preserves marriage. I must thank Him.
OJEMBA: I can imagine.
NDAA OKENTA: So, tell me, how is Osinachi?
ORIAKU: He is well.
NDAA ODENTA: I see. I hope he is not one of those that wake up in the morning and begin to run.
ORIAKU: I don’t understand.
NDAA OKENTA: They usually run on the road early in the morning when nobody is chasing them.
ORIAKU: They are excising, keeping fit.
NDAA OKENTA: No. They are running away from their past. But their shadows keep chasing them. When a hen pollutes the air, the land starts chasing her.
Oriaku laughs.
OJEMBA: Who is laughing with you? You are laughing when Osinachi issquandering my riches in America.
ORIAKU: What riches? Education is now a waste?
NDAA OKENTA: Enough!
ORIAKU: Talk to him, Ndaa.
NDAA ODENTA: Osinachi should be allowed to school. He is the only hope for the continuation of our lineage. He should be allowed to get the white man’s knowledge in the white man’s land. Look at me; 62, going to 63, I have no child. I have lost all of them. They say I ate my children with my mouth. They say their dead bones and skulls are swimming in my stomach. Death is wicked, onwu, onwu ajoka. [Begins to cry].
ORIAKU: Take heart, Ndaa.
Ndaa Okenta begins to sing a dirge for his dead children, as Oriaku consoles him. When he stops singing, ORIAKU stands up to leave.
ORIAKU: Let me find you something to eat, Ndaa.
NDAA OKENTA: My brother’s wife, why do you want to bother yourself?
ORIAKU: I am not bothering myself. My husband’s brother is my husband.
[She leaves].
OJEMBA: [To NDAA OKENTA in a low tone] I am still shocked that since I returned, none of those in my age-grade have ever come to visit me and sympathize with me over my troubles. Or haven’t you told them yet, Okenta.
NDAA OKENTA: [Laughs] Those in your age-grade? The ones dead or alive?
OJEMBA: Don’t be silly. Obioma hasn’t come, Obasi, Ukwuije, Okoro, Ugorji, and not even Akunese. Haven’t they heard that I am back and critically ill?
NDAA ODENTA: You are calling names of dead people. [Covers his ears and spits]. May dead people never visit my brother.
OJEMBA: What are you saying?
NDAA ODENTA: All these people are long dead and buried.
OJEMBA: Since when? Ehh, since when? Be careful with your words.
NDAA ODENTA: Their wives and children have even long removed and burnt their mourning clothes.
OJEMBA: What are you saying?
NDAA ODENTA: You’re probably the only person alive in your age-grade.
OJEMBA: What?
NDAA ODENTA: So many things happened while you were in obodo oyibo.
OJEMBA: What happened to Obioma?
NDAA ODENTA: He fell from the palm tree and died there.
OJEMBA: Just like that?
NDAA ODENTA: Yes.
OJEMBA: What happened to Obasi?
NDAA ODENTA: Obasi died while sleeping with a woman in an evil house, where men pay to sleep with women.
OJEMBA: You don’t say.
NDAA ODENTA: He was a disgrace to your age-grade.
OJEMBA: What happened to Ukwuije?
NDAA ODENTA: Hunger.
OJEMBA: What?
NDAA ODENTA: Hunger killed him.
OJEMBA: I see. He has always been lazy.
NDAA ODENTA: Nothing good came out from your age-grade.
OJEMBA: Shut up. What happened to Okoro?
NDAA ODENTA: He didn’t wake up from his sleep.
OJEMBA: Ugorji?
NDAA ODENTA: That one is hot tempered. He was set ablaze the day he killed his brother.
OJEMBA: You don’t say. What of Akunese?
NDAA OKENTA: That one is the worst. A moving lorry ran over his shop and destroyed all his goods. Akunese went home and hung himself on a tree.
OJEMBA: These stories are both gory and pathetic.
NDAA ODENTA: I don’t know what you mean, but they sound bad.
OJEMBA: Yes. Very bad.
NDAA ODENTA: I know.
OJEMBA: So, all those in my age-grade are dead?
NDAA ODENTA: Yes.
OJEMBA: I am the only living one?
NDAA ODENTA: Yes. But you are very sick.
OJEMBA: I know.
NDAA ODENTA: You’re not any different from them.
OJEMBA: I know.
NDAA ODENTA: But Olisa gives life.
OJEMBA: Exactly.
NDAA ODENTA: And He can take it back.
OJEMBA: What do you mean?
NDAA ODENTA: It is His, isn’t it?
OJEMBA: You sound so cool with my soon-coming passing.
NDAA ODENTA: Oh, how do you say that? My only brother, how can you? [Begins to weep].
OJEMBA: You are crying?
NDAA OKENTA: No, I won’t cry. These are not tears. I can’t. [Begins to wail aloud, refusing to be comforted. Begins a dirge].
Light fades.
Chetachi Igbokwe is an alumnus of the Purple Hibiscus Creative Writing Workshop, facilitated by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. He edited The Muse 48.