02 THE SHOCKING NEWS

BINTA

I arrived home in the evening coming from the Sarki's palace. I had been there all morning helping him write letters to the local government chairman, requesting the government to build a school and a health clinic for the people in the village. It was about time, I had thought, and for the first time in a while, I enjoyed my work, knowing if the Sarki was successful, the lives of my people would be affected positively. It was, after all, part of my dream.

On getting home, I found a small crowd of people in front of our hut compound. My mother was sitting at the door, weeping bitterly. A dark, scary feeling sunk into my heart and soul. Something was wrong; something was terribly wrong. I hoped my father would be able to comfort her when he returned.

I sauntered toward the crowd. On getting there, they all fell silent. My mother stood up, hugged me and continued crying. I asked her what happened in our language, but she did not respond. I looked around, searching the people's faces hoping one of them would be kind enough to relieve me of my curiosity by telling me what had happened, but they all kept silent, shaking their heads and making sympathising gestures towards my mother.

I got impatient and scared, so I shook my mother to answer. The people were shocked at my actions and showed it, but I didn't care. I needed to know what was going on. My mother refused to respond, so I stood up angrily and stormed into the compound, heading for my room. I decided to sit there and keep to myself until someone came and told me what was going on.

As I sat on my bamboo bed, I was trying to figure out what was going on, but I was not psychic, nor was I a clairvoyant. The best I could do was wait.

***

It was morning. I must have fallen asleep while pondering on the situation. I did not eat dinner, so I was hungry. The daylight was out. I figured my mother should have made breakfast by then. I headed out to get a chewing stick to clean my teeth. Heading out, the compound was empty and silent. Usually, by then, my father and his friends would be having breakfast sitting on the mats in the compound. I did not read anything to this as I figured whatever happened yesterday must have affected our routine. I washed my mouth and took my bath. I headed out to the compound. There was still no one, then I saw my father's sister Mimi coming out of my mother's hut with a clay kettle that had just been used to brew fresh tea. I greeted her and asked her when she arrived. She told me she came in the morning and said nothing more. She walked straight to the kitchen to attend to the wood in the fireplace, where she was cooking. I headed straight to my mother's hut.

On entering my mother's room, I demanded an explanation. I found another aunty of mine, Gogo, sitting on a mat on the floor. Gogo was my favourite aunty; although she was the eldest, she also was the most lenient and kindest of all my aunties. Knowing she would give me her attention, I decided to query her instead.

"Oh, my child, come sit with me," she said. "I have something important to tell you, and I need you to be strong."

The moment she told me to be strong, my spirit flew from me. I was numb in fear. Scared to continue the conversation, I started scolding myself for asking. Deep down, I knew that what she was about to tell me would hurt me for a long time.

"My dear niece," she hesitated and paused, looking at me while I stared into oblivion.

"Your father could not return yesterday. He was attacked by a group of hyenas while hunting." She paused. Tears started rolling down my eyes. I knew what she was about to say, "I am sorry, Binta, but your father did not survive the attack."

"NO! NO!" I screamed in disbelief. My world was collapsing right before my eyes. This must be a joke, I told myself, but I knew it was real. Everything was real. My father was dead.

I summoned up some courage and decided to ask where his body was. My aunty started crying, my mother wailed, and I joined in.

"That is the worst part, my child. The hyenas took his body away as food. Nothing of his was recovered," she completed.

The whole world went silent. My father, hyena's food. They ate him all. They could not be kind and considerate enough just to take an arm or leg and leave his body for us to give him a proper burial. What was I thinking? They were animals, after all. Wild animals. They had simple minds and simple reasoning. Being considerate was way too complicated an emotion to expect from a bunch of wild animals.

"The village hunters have set out to hunt and kill the hyenas that attacked your dad," she continued.

"And how will that bring him back?" I cried.

"It won't. But the witch doctor said we have to kill the hyenas that ate him and bury them in two days so that his soul will move on," she explained.

That was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. But I was in shock. I couldn't respond, and neither could I reply; I just cried. Being an only child and female, I feared for my future and my dreams. I had lost my father, and there was nothing I could do to bring him back.

***

Two days later, the hyenas were hunted, killed and buried. A prayer ceremony had been carried out for my father to enable his spirit and soul to find peace and rest in the afterlife.

Most of the people who came for my father's burial had left. My grandmother and my granduncle lingered, both from my father's side. I had been lifeless for the two days that had passed. I even refused to help read or translate for the Sarki. I knew the Sarki was unhappy with me, but I was sure he understood my situation and grief.

I overheard my father's mother urging my mother's sister, Mairo, to convince my mother to mourn my dad for only a short period and get herself a husband because she believed she could not survive on her own as a widow with a daughter.

I was irate hearing this. I began to wonder why my grandmother would give such a piece of advice barely three days after the death of her son. What did she mean by saying my mother couldn't survive as a widow with a child? Her old age must have caught up with her; if not, she would know I was no longer a child. I was ripe for marriage. I was also working in my own little way; therefore, I could contribute to the daily expenses of the house; thus, my mother would not be alone. At the thought of this, a truth dawned on me. Because my parents were all right, I was able to save what I earned, hoping I would gather enough to escape to the city one day. With the misfortune that had now befallen us, I could no longer keep the money to myself, therefore, pushing my dream farther away from reality.

My dad had a couple of lands on which we farmed. Since I did not have a brother, and I was the only child and my mother his only wife, it meant we inherited his properties. I began to suspect that this was why they were trying to urge my mother to remarry, therefore forfeiting her rights to my father's properties.

My suspicion could not be correct because even if my mother remarried and forfeited her rights to my father's property, I became his sole heir meaning they would still get nothing. Something else was happening.

On this conclusion, I decided not to bother myself on the matter anymore; after all, My Nana was old and old-fashioned. She might have just been concerned.

I went about minding my business and tried to help around the house.

My mother was still in shock, and it had been difficult feeding her ever since she got the news of my father's death. I just wished this phase would be over and we could move on with our lives. But even though I thought that way, I was still mourning my dad, and everything still felt like a dream. Secretly in my heart, I hoped and wished I would wake up and find that all of it was one lousy nightmare, but it was just a wish.

I saw a woman linger behind after the guests had left. She was sitting on a mat with two boys. I decide to talk to her.

"Good evening, we are very grateful for your visit. Now the family will like to mourn our loss alone. We appreciate your kindness and..."

"I'm waiting for Nana," she said immediately. Nana was what we called my father's mother. I found it strange that my grandmother would choose this time to receive visitors in our home but all the same, it was her son's house, and she was family. I looked at the woman with her two sons and realised their faces looked familiar. I believed I had seen their faces before but couldn't remember when or where.

"I will call her to you," I answered and walked away.

I went into my grandmother's hut and informed her of her visitor. She rushed out and greeted the woman and her sons with a warm embrace, then suddenly, they started crying together, and I headed straight to my room to have some alone time to mourn my loss.