SCENE—ACHALUGO is standing, rubbing her stomach. ONYEGBULA enters the sitting room, stares at ACHALUGO and begins searching around.
ACHALUGO: (Without turning her back.) Are you looking for your two black goats in a sitting room?
ONYEGBULA: (Stops the search.) I am searching for my brother. (He continues his search.)
ACHALUGO: (Aside.) He searches for his brother like a lover would. Will I ever understand these things? Oh, Achalugo, do you not love your lover enough? Now you must be taught how to love by his brother. Look at him, searching for his brother the way he searches for his goats. What manner of man is he? See how his body trembles in a brother’s search, as though his brother were a lover. And his eyes, scanning for a man with a huge body as though he is an ant. (Turns to ONYEGBULA.) Dimkpa has gone to join the boat!
ONYEGBULA: Boat! What boat?
ACHALUGO: The boat heading to Emene. They have asked for battle.
ONYEGBULA: Battle? Who asks for battle? Do people sit and beg for battle? I don’t understand.
ACHALUGO: They killed three tax collectors at the river shore. That is how to ask for battle.
ONYEGBULA: Battle…I mean, is that how quickly things happen? I was with him few minutes ago right here, wasn’t I? I only went in to have a warm bath. He never spoke of a coming battle. He was right there. He said, Onyegbula, there is water for you to wash your feet. And I said, I will wash my entire body, and so I headed in to have my warm bath.
ACHALUGO: Warm bath.
ONYEGBULA: Yes. A long warm bath. The kind that one allows warm water to reach the underside of one’s body and relaxes from over-laboured bones. It helps me sleep when I am stressed and somehow keeps my mind away from my troubles. I believe my missing goats will be back. Something tells me they were not carried away by the flood. They could just be trapped somewhere by fear or hunger. Poor goats. Small body. Short legs. Black coat.
ACHALUGO: Why are you giving me the features I already know?
ONYEGBULA: Not a bad thing to remind you, in case you have forgotten. They are smart. Something can bring them home. Anything. Anything small. As little as one’s footprint on the sand. When you hear them bleat, just bleat back too like this. (Bleats). That is how they will know I am home. That is the only way, isn’t it? (Silence.) I have been meaning to ask. What is this with you and my brother that you both discuss with your eyes? It is always intense; eyes-rolling, or stuttering, or silence when I arrive. And I have been saying to myself, Onyegbula, are you the cause of the crisis? And the other self says to me, how possible? Am I supposed to be worried at all by all these? Are these questions my brother must answer? (Silence.) But this battle…why does it seem different from the others? There is something about this battle, isn’t it?
ACHALUGO: There is nothing with it. It is just Emene. And the gods said Dimkpa will return. He has life.
ONYEGBULA: Yes, he has life. But Emene…why is the ownership of a river a cause of a serious conflict? A mere water? Why can’t people just use water that the gods have given us without fighting over who owns it or what name it shall be called or what day it shall be used or who pays what tax or not? Emene. They were defeated thirteen months ago and suddenly they are ready for another battle. How did they rebuild themselves in thirteen months? What do we not know?
ACHALUGO: Why do you ask questions and questions?
ONYEGBULA: Dimkpa has all the answers. It is not always a headache for him to reply.
ACHALUGO: I didn’t say you give me headache.
ONYEGBULA: (Goes to sit.) Does it seem strange?
ACHALUGO: What?
ONYEGBULA: Does it seem strange that I do not know much about these communal clashes?
ACHALUGO: You are asking another question.
ONYEGBULA: Sorry. I was about to clarify by asking. I grew up with my mother’s people in Umunkwo where I learnt to raise goats. They say, Onyegbula, you’re your mother’s child, because I have her looks. If I came to life after her passage, they would have said my mother is back. (Now looking at ACHALUGO’s stomach.) But we know how our mother is coming back. I look forward to seeing my mother-baby’s tiny fingers and small nose.
ACHALUGO: You will carry her, won’t you?
ONYEGBULA: I will, but that won’t last long. Carrying a child makes my heart race. I don’t want her to grow up and say, This is the uncle who broke my fingers.
(They laugh.)
ACHALUGO: Why are men scared of little things but ready to do the big ones?
ONYEGBULA: Does that have to do with Dimkpa, the war-leader?
(They laugh. Then, silence.)
ONYEGBULA: My brother told me how you kept the secret of our mother’s hidden corpse.
(ONYEGBULA begins to sob).
ACHALUGO: (Goes to him.) Don’t cry. It’s all over now.
ONYEGBULA: Is it? What we did was grave. By paying for our mother’s levies in the women’s association, and collecting her rights as a member, it means she was eating with the living. We made the living women dine with our dead mother. It is an abomination.
ACHALUGO: I understand.
ONYEGBULA: No, you don’t. (Calmly.) In the past, we could have been ostracized. But the price of evil is diminishing these days. When Dimkpa struggles to fight and win battles, he is trying to erase that part of our family history from the people’s consciousness. When he is not celebrated enough, his mind tells him it could be because of our past. Our past is our burden.
ACHALUGO: (Begins to sob.) And he told me how you sold all your goats to raise money for her funeral. And now, you are rising again. From one to two goats.
ONYEGBULA: But they are missing, just this morning at the fields.
ACHALUGO: Are you losing hope?
ONYEGBULA: Hope? No. To lose hope is death.
ACHALUGO: Your Chi will bring them back whole.
ONYEGBULA: With Dimkpa.
ACHALUGO: Yes, everyone. Today. We shall sit around this table and feast tonight. This is just noon. Everything will be whole at sunset. The gods said he will be back. He has life.
ONYEGBULA: Everyone. And I will build a bigger hut for my goats at the backyard. Don’t you think they freed themselves because they wanted a wide space for a chase?
ACHALUGO: You are asking another question.
ONYEGBULA: Oh, true. I am sorry. But Dimkpa would have answered. He would have said, Yes, brother, I will build that space, and he would go forth to build it himself and we would lay the goats. He would, won’t he? Oh, that’s just another question. (Silence.) I will be going in now to have some rest. Before I wake up, everyone will be home. I will hear my brother say, Onyegbula, come out and let’s have a drink with the skull of the Emene war-leader. He wouldn’t drink with it, of course. But he would hang it up there for the sun to smite it. (Turns to leave.) See you soon, Achalugo.
ACHALUGO: (Watching him as he enters inside). You, too. Let me know if you need anything.
ONYEGBULA: Nevermind. See you at dinner time.
ACHALUGO: (Aside.) Onyegbula is just an old man with a child’s heart. Give your soul rest, Achalugo, there is nothing to fear about a man who doesn’t know the way of the world.
(There is a sudden loud knock and the pulling down of the door. Enter MESSENGER.)
MESSENGER: Where is the other man?
ACHALUGO: Who are you? Why did you break down the door? Don’t you know Dimkpa?
MESSENGER: You know me already. I guess I was gentle when I first came. There are no many words now, woman. We shall fix things when the battle is over. Where is he?
ACHALUGO: (Looks sternly at his face.) Did he not join you as you left? Did you not come some hours ago to pull a man from his house for a battle as you just pulled the door?
MESSENGER: I am not looking for Dimkpa. I am looking for his brother, the one who returned from his mother’s people. I am looking for every man in this village to join the second boat to Emene. There is some trouble with those in the first boat. It is the Onyishi’s order.
ACHALUGO: A second boat? Some trouble? Are our warriors not enough? (Silence.) Dimkpa said he would get Emene on their knees. Why does the community need more warriors?
MESSENGER: You talk too much, woman. Where is he?
ACHALUGO: Who?
MESSENGER: Onyegbula!
ACHALUGO: He is not here. He has gone back to his mother’s people.
MESSENGER: You are wasting everyone’s time.
ACHALUGO: I don’t understand.
MESSENGER: If we are being watched by people who have paid and gathered to be amused by the tragedy happening to our community, you are delaying our haste to surprise them.
ACHALUGO: Which people?
MESSENGER: I am just imagining. People imagine a lot in time of battle.
ACHALUGO: No one has the time to make up imaginations in the face of danger.
MESSENGER: Time. There you go, again. You are wasting everyone’s time.
ACHALUGO: We are alone in this house.
MESSENGER: We? (Laughs.) You see how your lies are catching up with you. Who is We if you are alone?
ACHALUGO: I and my daughter in my belly. She is my jewel and her father’s pride. We are just here, amusing ourselves. If there was anyone else, wouldn’t the person be out here with me waiting for the news of victory like I am here. This is where I wait and then, I sight Dimkpa coming and he would say, I told you they would be on their knees, and he would plant a kiss on my face and I would say, Just a kiss? From someone returning for a battle? And he would laugh and say, Achalugo, you have all of me to yourself.
MESSENGER: You talk too much, woman. There is a time for love and a time for battle. This is battle time! (Tries to enter inside the house.)
ACHALUGO: Are you entering Dimkpa’s resting home? The home he lays his head after duty and loyalty to this community. Is this how you pay back a warrior who has served for most of his life? Dimkpa, the one who has survived death nine times in the face of one battle with one community? How would he take this story after the battle? That you stripped him of all his sacrifices for his people and went inside the only thing he has to himself? His home.
(MESSENGER retreats. A five seconds silence.)
MESSENGER: Did you say there is no other person in this house?
ACHALUGO: I am saying that the hundredth time.
(Silence.)
MESSENGER: That’s fine.
(MESSENGER turns to leave. Then, there are sounds of two bleating goats).
ONYEGBULA: (Backstage.) Where are they? Two stubborn goats belonging to a gentleman goatherd. Where are they?
(ONYEGBULA appears on stage, facing the ground as he searches for his goats.)
ONYEGBULA: You were right, Achalugo, that my Chi would lead them back. I told you I have hope, didn’t I? Where are they? Small little things that shattered an old boy’s heart. I didn’t have a good sleep. Just dreams about goats and a wild deer in an animal farm. It might just take a longer time but there is something about these dreams I had today that have blown my mind away.
(Still facing down and runs around searching for his goats.)
ONYEGBULA: Where are they? Who would have believed this total submission to non-human subjects? Isn’t this love and sheer devotion unimaginable? That a man loves his goats like he would love his mother and brother. If this is not love, I don’t know what it is. Those who say one cannot find love in animals do not know what they scorn. Where are they?
(Still facing down and runs around searching for his goats till he finds the feet of the MESSENGER. His eyes move from the feet to his face.)
ONYEGBULA: Messenger of my Onyishi.
(Now starring at ACHALUGO and MESSENGER.)
MESSENGER: (To ONYEGBULA.) Follow me.
ONYEGBULA: To where?
MESSENGER: Emene.
ONYEGBULA: Emene? There is battle there.
MESSENGER: Men will fight for us. You are a man. Even Diochi, the tapster, is going to join the boat.
ACHALUGO: Please, please, messenger of my Onyishi! (Tries to hold his feet.)
MESSENGER: I should have known you were telling a lie by the way you were talking too much. Leave my feet!
(MESSENGER drags out his feet, as he drags ONYEGBULA with him. ACHALUGO screams and falls on the ground.)
ACHALUGO: (Soliloquy.) There is no greater sorrow than that of one who witnesses alone. Did you see my husband? Did you see the brother close to his heart? Are there signs of them like the rain? Will hope save me? Are there signs of you, Dimkpa? Any sign of you, Onyegbula? The town is dead and silent. Who is there? Who? Who can hear my heart?
(Goats bleat. ACHALUGO goes in and comes out with her husband’s other rifle.)
ACHALUGO: Show yourself. Show yourself and know why I am the spouse of a war-leader.
(Silence.)
ACHALUGO: No, Achalugo, if you want to deal with things, don’t say it, show it.
(ACHALUGO hides the rifle behind her back.)
ACHALUGO: I have cut some fresh palm leaves for you. And what is your favourite meal? I don’t know what it is, but I made it. Show yourself.
(Goats bleat. She picks the gun and there is silence. She drops the gun.)
ACHALUGO: I made it. Where are you? How do you want it served?
(Goats bleat as light fades. End of play.)
Cheta Igbokwe is an MFA candidate and Graduate Teaching Assistant at the University of Iowa, United States. He has a BA in English and Literary Studies from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, Where he served as the editor of the University’s student’s journal, The Muse. Igbokwe is the winner of the ANA Prize for Drama 2021, for his play, Homecoming.