I
Twilight at a clearing in a forest. Two teenage boys, NNANYELUGO and UDOKA, sit, holding hands and licking ụdara.
They are about 18, and look so alike they could be mistaken for brothers, or twins even. Skin the colour of the night, muscular, with the beginnings of great beards.

NNANYELUGO: [Looking at the ụdara in his hand.] Our love is like a beautiful, ripe ụdara. Red and sweet and succulent. We are two seeds in it, cushioned by the flesh of
passion.
UDOKA: [laughing] Is this another of your poems?
NNANYELUGO: When I’m with you, when I look at your eyes, the words in my throat
metamorphose into wild flowers. And come out as poetry befitting your beauty.
UDOKA: I love it when you talk to me. It makes my insides warm.
[Nnanyelugo kisses his hand]
NNANYELUGO: I wish we could see more often, more than a few snatches of stolen time.
UDOKA: Stolen water is sweetest, isn’t it?
NNANYELUGO: But it only adds more firewood to the fire of the thirst. I want to behold your face out in the open of the village. The square, the stream, the farmlands. Not just in
the shadows of the woods.
UDOKA: [sighs] I want to hold your hand and cup your cheeks when I see you outside your
father’s house. At the dances, when your limbs course gracefully through space,
and your back glistens with pretty dots of sweat, I want to stand and shout at the
people that you are mine, the soulful dancer of Amankume.
NNANYELUGO: How can they forbid a love as pure as ours? Can they not hear the tender ballad our hearts beat? Can they not feel the warmth our eyes kindle when they meet?
They look tenderly at each other and kiss. Udoka breaks away.
NNANYELUGO: What, Udo? What worries you?
UDOKA: By Eke, you will get initiated into the Leopard Society.
NNANYELUGO: [beaming] Yes, yes. I am excited, so is my father. It is a family tradition that
every first male gets into the Society, and I am glad to carry it on.
UDOKA: I am afraid.
NNANYELUGO: Why, my love?
UDOKA: I am afraid the Society will change you.
NNANYELUGO: Never.
UDOKA: It does strange things to men. I watched my cousin go from a kindly man to a
beast.
NNANYELUGO: [softly] Udoka. Udo m, listen to me. The Society reveals the true man, nothing more. Touch my heart. [Udoka places his palm on his heart.] Who am I?
UDOKA: You are mine. My tender, gentle man. My own.
NNANYELUGO: And I will remain the same. The Society will not change me.
UDOKA: Promise? Promise you won’t forget me?
NNANYELUGO: On my chi, I will never. You are engraved in my heart, always.
They kiss tenderly. There is a rustling close by. They break away.
UDOKA: What was that?
NNANYELUGO: Some animal. Pay it no mind.
They kiss again.
Light fades.

II
Two middle aged men sit at an obi in the evening, drinking palm wine and chewing kolanuts. One,
EZENWA, is Nnanyelugo’s father. The other, OBIOHA, is the leader of the Leopard Society.
OBIOHA: In three days…
EZENWA: I have never been prouder. The gods may have given me just one son, but they
took time in picking him out.
OBIOHA: Nnanyelugo has the markings of one who will lead the Society in time to come.
EZENWA: Iseee!
OBIOHA: But there is a clog that threatens the wheel.
EZENWA: What?
OBIOHA: Nwafọ’s son.
EZENWA: Udoka?
OBIOHA: The very same.
EZENWA: How so? I know that they are friendly.
OBIOHA: Too friendly, Ezenwa. I walked in on a scene in the forest last night.
EZENWA: No.
OBIOHA: Those two are skirting the edge of taboo.
EZENWA: No!
OBIOHA: It is embarrassing, I know, and difficult to imagine. But think how much greater
your suffering will be, should this darkness make its way into the light and
common knowledge of the people.
EZENWA: Nnanyelugo cannot do this to me.
OBIOHA: Youth is not renowned for its wisdom. You, the adult, must step in as the hand of
the gods. In three days, that boy will become a man. There is time yet to act.
EZENWA: What must I do?
OBIOHA: We are in the season of the floods. The river is treacherous now, swallowing
everything in its way. That may be a blessing. [In a lower voice.] Who do you
want it to swallow?
EZENWA: Obioha, Nwafọ…
OBIOHA: is an efulefu, and his ụdara did not at all fall far from the tree. You will be doing
the village a great service.
[He drinks off his wine, stands, dusts his buttocks.]
I greet you, my brother and friend. See you in three days.
He leaves. Ezenwa sits, shaking his head.
EZENWA: What is this thing that Obioha is asking me to do?
[He sighs and shakes his head.]
But, my boy. This is a danger to his glorious future.
[He rises and walks around.]
No. It has to be done. It has to.
[Just then, Udoka walks past the compound.]
Is this a sign from the gods? Udoka! Udoka!
Udoka hears and comes into the compound. He walks up to the obi and bows to
Ezenwa.
UDOKA: Maazị.
EZENWA: [Lifting his shoulders.] My son, how are you?
UDOKA: I am well, father.
EZENWA: I hear you are a wizard with the fishes. I will need help catching some for your
friend’s ceremony on Eke day. Will you meet me at the riverbank tomorrow
night?
UDOKA: Certainly, father. I’ll be happy to help.
EZENWA: Indeed. Thank you, my son.
Udoka goes on his way.
Light fades.

III
Night at the river. It is raining heavily. Ezenwa stands under a tree, looking out. A figure approaches in
the dark, a boy. He stands stands by the bank and looks about.
EZENWA: [Under his breath.] One… Two… Three!
He rushes towards the figure and pushes him into the river.
Light fades.

IV
Inside a woman’s hut. MMAUGO, Nnanyelugo’s mother, plump and late in her late 40s, sits on the floor,
threading beads for a bracelet. Presently, Ezenwa, walks in, dripping wet.
MMAUGO: [standing] My poor husband. The rain has beat you badly.
EZENWA: It poured with a vengeance.
MMAUGO: Indeed. Did Nnanyelugo meet you?
EZENWA: Nnanyelugo?
MMAUGO: Yes. Udoka sent a boy with the message that he sprained his ankle and as such
couldn’t keep the riverbank appointment anymore. He sent his apologies too.
Nnanyelugo set off to tell you, so you wouldn’t wait in vain. You didn’t even
mention the appointment to me. Must have skipped your mind.
EZENWA: Wait. Nnanyelugo, you say?
MMAUGO: Yes. He went to the river to call you back. I take it you did not meet him.
EZENWA: Nnanyelugo went to the river?
MMAUGO: Has the rain deafened you?
EZENWA: [Looking around in confusion.] No, no, no.
MMAUGO: My husband, what is it?
EZENWA: Are you certain Nnanyelugo went to the river?
MMAUGO: Would I lie to you?
EZENWA: No. No, no, no. No!
MMAUGO: What is it, my husband, please?
The weight of realisation pulls the man to the ground, leaves him speechless.
MMAUGO: Ezenwa, what is it? What has happened?
The man bends his head and bellows to Anị.
Light fades.
THE END

koso Agboanike is a writer exploring prose, poem, plays and their intersections. Her works have appeared in Praxis Magazine, Olongo Africa, and the Muse Journal. Besides writing, she dabbles in photography, filmmaking, and cat worship. She writes from Nigeria.