CHAPTER 2: AKEBULA

CHAPTER 2

Akwugo was really unlucky. Maybe she could have lived if that Umuokpara herbalist had met and administered the fruity-herbal powder to her. There was a certain woman that would usually come around in slave depots of Bonny Island and Calabar, and reports had it that she was also seen once in a while in so many other slave depots around West Africa. Most of her visits always coincided with the time ships were readied for loading. Story had it that the presence of Akebula was like a mystery. She was never challenged and no attempt was ever made to sell her into slavery even when she was young. She was seen as a powerful native doctor and herbalist.

There were many legends built around her person and presence. To the Igbos, Akebula was an Igbo woman from a certain Umuokpara village. It was said that she first came around Biafra slave depots four days after Ugegbe was forcefully put on board Ship Jesus in her native doctor regalia in search of her only child and son, Duruhio. The legends had it that Duruhio was fathered by a certain man who was described as a very fair-complexioned man. He had a dreadlock that was long enough to reach his waist. His name was Enu.

Enu was a wandering man with his wife he calls Nwanne, and they made a stop in Umuokpara where Nwanne died after a while without a child of her own. Her body was taken to a nearby river bank and buried according to her wish. Enu mourned his wife for many years as a widower. Very early in the morning, he would go beside his wife’s grave discussing with voices that were audible enough to some but with no visible bodies that could be seen by mere mortals. To some, Enu was always talking to himself since the multiple voices he spoke with were invincible

One day, Akebula went to the river early in the morning to take her bath and sighted Enu beside Nwanne’s grave, talking, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Leave him alone and find peace. There are women in this land. If marriage is for happiness. There are women here who can make him happy. You are dead and have been buried; allow him to feel life once again”, Akebula exclaimed.

“Who in this land can make me happy?” Enu asked as he stood up and looked towards Akebula.

“It’s just like saying there is no food in Umuokpara when you have not made any effort to look for food. I have a family, meet them and tell them what you will want to do with their daughter and you might be lucky to have her”, Akebula said and walked away.

After Enu met the family of Akebula, they were declared husband and wife. Enu built his house beside the grave of his first wife, and they had a child together who was named Duruhio.

When Duruhio was 9 years old, Enu told his wife, Akebula, that it was time to leave for his country and he intended to go back home with his family. He said he came to Umuokpara to plant the seed of longevity and good health and has achieved it. She pointed at a very rare Plum tree beside his house to Akebula and told her that the fruit will soon start ripening in a few days, and only the lucky ones would eat it and have long life. His wife told him that there was no need to leave the fruit behind when she could stay back and start using it to save lives.

“It is better you leave the lucky ones to be lucky than staying behind to break its rules and nobody gains from it”, Enu said.

“I will keep the rules. I will stay behind and it will help more people. Just leave me and Duruhio. When he is of age, you can come and have him”, Akebula said.

One day, Akebula went to the market square and when she returned, she discovered that her husband had run away with her only child. She was bitter. She quickly entered the remaining boat out of the two they had and started sail-chasing after her husband who she sighted on the water speedily sailing farther off. But Akebula became confused when she came to Bonny Island. The last time she sighted her husband and her son, Duruhio, was when Enu sailed in the middle of two awaiting ships and disappeared. It was her first time on Bonny Island. She became heartbroken when she met a multitude of people being kept in slave camps for onward shipment. She was so sad that she forgot what brought her to the island. Akebula saw people dying and others being chained, dragged, and emptied inside the awaiting ships against their wishes. Her strange fierce-looking demeanours couldn’t allow people to go close to her. They just kept looking at her and she skillfully moved around on the surface of the water.

“Why am I going after who is living with his father when there are many lives here to save?” Akebula said and turned back and left for Umuokpara.

The last day Akebula was spotted in the Bight of Biafra was on an Eke market day. It was on the day she saw little Adaora crying as her younger brother had just bled to death after being shot for trying to escape when the rusty chain on his leg broke apart.

“Mama, they have killed Ikebude. They have killed my only brother”, Adaora screamed out to Akebula, who hastily ran to Adaora and held her by her reddened cheeks. “My daughter, be strong. See how they have readied their guns to kill me. I have been coming here for many years, but all they see is a worn-out old woman that is not useful to them. It could be that their gods had rejected my blood. It makes them look silly because my blood still makes journeys in the veins of my children they bent on denying me. Listen, I can't physically help you now but fear not, they shall one day hold guns in their hands but still look helpless with them. I will be wherever they take you to, and good thing is, the good ancestors of our innocent land, Ikebude and I shall go with you. Our return gets closer each day. Look up into the sky”, she said, pointing to the sky while Adaora looked up. “I see hope for my children beyond the altered blue. Look down into my palms”, Akebula continued before she started predicting events and their years. She named these events in her Igbo dialect.

On reaching home, she was first welcomed by the fall of a ripened plum fruit planted by Enu, her husband. She picked it, washed and ate it. After a short while, she slept off and her husband appeared to her in the dream;

“When it falls again, pick it and slice, sun-dry and make a powder of it to serve out all seasons. Let the lucky ones remain lucky”. ‘Give to them’ was the last instruction Akebula heard from her husband before she woke up and it became a dream.

Ever since Akebula saw the sight of the slave camps in Bonny Islands as a young woman, legend said she always came around to administer his powdered fruits to the captives. “If I can’t save you from these men, I, a woman and a mother can at least give you what can guarantee some relief and longevity after all. They have taken our men and left only the famished”. She would always say this when putting her powder of life in the mouths of the camped slaves, as everyone would look as though they were under her spell.

On that Eke market day she was spotted in Bonny Island, she gave the slaves awaiting shipment her powdered fruit and offered them the last word before she disappeared as a legend she has come to be.

“This shall be my last time on this Island for this. The mission has given me more time to live but I am happy it has given more people more time to live to see the end of this cruelty inflicted on my children. My mates have all died and many generations after mine have passed on, and it has become childish for me to discuss with children that now call themselves old. So, what am I living for? But I was kept alive to make sure that some people, the chosen ones, are kept alive to prepare the other side of history that will suit my children. I am not dying my children, I want to go home and rest in myself”, Akebula said.

It was said that she would sometimes put some in a wrapper and tie them around the waist of one of the slaves to give to whosoever they wished when they were offloaded. It was said that she once gave Dios the powder, but he couldn’t capture the description of the taste in words. It was later discovered that this fruit powder came from a plum tree the Portuguese later named Eboe Plum, which changed the face of the winery in Portugal.

After several years, Akebula continued to age in strength and ravishing beauty and met new faces that grew to fear her in and around the slave depots. The mission remained unclear but one thing that remained noticeable was that the slaves who were lucky to have tasted Akebula’s powder lived long and healthier lives. Most of them outlived second generations of the white men that purchased them.