The Lingering Scent of Fakindi War



"During the days of Akimba
Things were different
Boys travel down to the sacred groove to become men
With the blessings of their mother hanging around their neck
They eat the hearts of the leopards
And drink with the skull of lions

"They were prepared to terrify death
To laugh at the booming of guns
To survive when the daggers are drawn

"They were the heroes who fought in Fakindi war
Those born in our days still met the flakes of clashing spears
We heard the sound of clashing swords
The spark of war reached us after her heroes are all gone
They are the giants who rose and fell in battle
Who are born only to one end
To stand and die defending their people

"How can we forget the tradition
Of the heroes of that war
Their broken bones and lost graves
Are the sacrifices the earth cannot ignore
Their ghosts is the wind of bliss that blows across our world
That steadies our boats and readies our guns

"The great Fakindi himself was the brother of Akimba
Akimba our king joined his brother against nine kings
Those days when Akimba danced in the rain of guns
The days when my father, Batuyi bathed in the blood of our enemies
When Fakindi became the smoke that oceans cannot quench
The days of life
The days of death
The days of great groanings
The days when we still knew who we were
The days when men were men
The days when our pride was bravery
I still met the scent of that tradition
Lingering on the mountain top
Aching to survive but hastily dying out

"Time has changed my son
The next lorry that will pass the street Tansa
Will carry our sons away
The defender of our race
To lost them in places far away from home
Far from their own origin
Where they will be beggars all their lives
Begging the same people
Who once placed chains in the ankles of their fathers
Who stole their lives from them
The days when life is life are over

"But Kante, my son
It is your destiny to know who you are
Where you come from
The stories of your fathers
What you are
To know from which hole of the earth your ancestors sprout from

"You will go to the sacred groove to learn
How not to die
To walk in moonless hours with confidence
To answer with your guns not your legs when the lions roar
To become a man, a true man of Tansa"

Bambili voice sometimes has magic in it
But this night, it was the liquor of wisdom and silence
Flowing from his bleeding heart
Over an unredeemable past
Over a civilization buried in the grave of antiquity
That strained the air with a tinted smell
Making me feel what I couldn't feel

He stood with his eyes on the road
And hands on the door
I took off the leather sack
The door closed behind us
Tansa street lies beneath our feet
As we manoeuvre our way through a starless moment

The night was cold and quiet
Too dark that my little hunting lamp struggles with blindness
Soon we were on the path leading into the forest
Bambili suddenly came to a halt
Looked round and beckoned me in still whispers

"Kante, I must leave you now
From here you will find the route into your fate alone
A man will meet you as you go
But don't be afraid my son
I can only father a child
I can't father a man
You must be a man to survive alone"

Bambili took two steps backward
And then started walking away
Leaving me along in the palace of death

I wonder if this is truly happening
Or it's just another dream like the ones I had about Amanda
Few days ago when I saw her walking away from home
I checked the content of the bag I was carrying
A white wrapper was folded in it
With some kola, cowries, razor and two black strings
I wonder what all these are meant for

I stood there alone in dark
I had to make my first choice
Either to hurry back to the safety of my home
And jump into the arms of my mom
And remain a child forever
Or walk on into the dark with a trembling feet too weak to stand
Defiling the threat of beast and death
And become the man I see in Bambili
Fearless and loving
I stayed minutes at the crossroads of choices
Pondering which way to turn

Then one simple step I took forward
One more and yet another
Soon I was on my way into a realm I do not know
To do what I don't know
To meet people I don't know

And as I pressed into the sacred groove
I forgot death or life
I forgot Amanda and Tansa
I forgot Kante or Bambili
All that matters was to just keep going
With my little hunting lamp
And my leather bag
As my only companions into my own future

© Olatuja Oloyede
To be Continued on Monday
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