Jamin says nothing would deter him from Ulari
By Lechi Eke
At the verdict of the Tiv Ruling Council, J experienced momentary hot flashes. Unknown to him, that’s what some grown women go through in menopausal transition, but he snapped out of it with sneeze speed; after all, he was a soldier. Over the years, he had accumulated strength both physical and psychological; not wanting in spiritual strength either. However, he had stood up a moment later than others as when a fellow forgot what he ought to do. Bern Uma who had been observing him hurriedly made his way through the excited crowd to get to him, but the palace security wouldn’t let him. He navigated his way to a less noisy corner and put a call through to Pastor Marfi who was his kinsman. He picked it immediately.
“Hi, Man of God! I want to see the Wan Tor, Jamin.” Bern sensed Marfi’s slight rebuff. He might be wondering, why at this sensitive moment.
“Hi, Bern! Why, now?” Marfi’s pause made Bern conclude that Marfi must have decided that it might be something important since he was not on the divide of imprudent fellows. He was an automaton engineer of repute.
“He needs the counsel I have right now on how to move forward.” Bern sensed Marfi hesitate, then he discerned his breathing, as one who took a quick decision. Then he said, “Stay where you are, let me talk to him.”
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The meeting with her father (2)
Less than five minutes later, Marfi called his cell phone, and repeated, “Stay where you are, someone is coming to bring you to him. Thanks!”
“Courteous buddy,” Bern thought. He knew Marfi. He was the brother Jamin didn’t have. Sure, as hell, few minutes later, one of the uniformed palace guards accosted him and led him through an entrance where they used a keke napep (golf car) to access. Bern was ushered into a reception lounge where Jamin sat alone, Marfi out of earshot and two guards farther away. Jamin looked relaxed and wore a faint smile. Bern’s steps faltered, but he was already in and couldn’t turn back.
“Under vee, Wan Tor!” Bern greeted good morning.
“Msugh!” Jamin replied hi because they were peers.
Although his face was pleasant and at peace, Bern knew he wouldn’t want his time wasted with small talks. So, he went straight to the point. “I thought that although you knew it, you needed to hear it again, my prince, that there’s no impossibility with God. (He saw Jamin’s face relax fully.) What He cannot do does not exist.” Jamin did not say anything but Bern knew he had his attention. “I’m led to tell you, don’t give up, not just hope, but on the issue of your heart’s desire.” Jamin nodded with a slight movement of his head. “In my field, we’ve made tremendous breakthroughs. This issue on ground may take years, it may take weeks, but I came to offer you comfort (Jamin sat up straighter), you can acquire a humanoid robot made to the specification of the honourable lady you want to marry and keep her by your side to comfort you until the storm is over.” Jamin looked stunned. From the corner of his eyes, Bern saw Marfi watching them with the body language of one who wanted to come over, but he did not move. An eye blinking moment passed and Bern held his breath praying he would not be tagged a frivolous fellow.
“M sugh u kpishi.” Jamin stood up thanking him wholeheartedly. Because Jamin was really a nice guy, Bern couldn’t tell if his suggestion was helpful, acceptable or silly. Marfi came over smiling at him.
“Thank you very much for taking time from work to fly down to Nigeria for the Wan Tor. The Giver of life will reward you,” Marfi said in Tiv. Bern was relieved. They were not playing nice, they seemed to appreciate his gesture.
“Pastor Marfi has my number, in case you want to …” Bern began.
“Of course, I know how to reach you,” Jamin said with a smile.
Marfi walked him to the door. “People are being entertained in the hall, if you want to eat something here…”
“No one will eat anything,” Bern said. “The Tor rejected our request.”
“Thank you very much for supporting our Wan Tor,” Marfi said with an appreciative handshake and then let him go leaving him with a palace guard.
Jamin bore no grudge to anyone, least of all his uncle, the Tor Tiv. He told Marfi that they could rest a little before flying back to Lagos, with their phones inaccessible. They sent SMS to close ones who might need to reach them quickly and then crashed in Jamin’s Gboko palace apartment. He was mentally exhausted and slept like he was wasted.
“I had a dream you married Ula,” Marfi said when they woke up.
Jamin smiled. “No negative dreams, dreams of contrary, talk, feeling, predictions, and what else have you, would deter me. Keep your dream!”
“It might not be negative,” Marfi said.
“I don’t even care,” Jamin replied with a short laugh.
Marfi knew he was as strong as they came. They had been friends, all their lives.
“You heard Bern,” Jamin said.
“Loud and clear. But would it not amount to …”
“Sin, you mean?” Marfi nodded.
“That bothered me too, but fleetingly.”
The Tor kwase coming to visit Jamin brought that discussion to an end.
The impasse that followed the Gboko palace meeting threatened to stall development in Tivland. Some of the community development being paid for by MUT and MUTA at different places in the nine LGAs of Benue state suddenly developed shortage of funds. The state governor cried out saying that government needed the help being rendered by the union. When contacted on why they stopped funding such projects as roads, building of an airport (the state had only an airstrip. It had been using Jos airport for major travels), solid mineral mining, and others, the union said, they were not recognised as a people. If the royal family recognised them, they would at least try to meet them halfway in their request. The governor was most displeased as every group held out.
Jamin stopped visiting his parents in Jos and stopped calling them. His father recovered and became well again. Ulari’s mother after waiting for a while and hearing nothing from ‘the northerner’, revived. Ulari was embarrassed for her father as nothing was heard again of the Tiv prince. Her father’s friends must be wondering, snooping to know ‘what was up’. After many discussions, Major General Fiberesima reached out again to Ulari’s father, pleading with him to exercise patience that the young man they spoke about would come later. He was “busy with work”. It was an insult, but better than remaining silent.
Ulari resumed physical school, but heavily guarded and still quartered with Iveren. Then, Ulari’s father received a surprise invitation from Delux Paints to visit their Headquarters in Lagos, and he took his second son, Felix, who served as his auditor. Felix bought tickets and it was his father’s first trip by air. He was in debts to the foremost national paint company that supplied him with paints. It turned out a great meeting of debt cancellation as the company took a decision to place his debts under bad debts, meaning that he was no longer required to pay them. Thereafter, he received an invitation from General Fiberesima to have dinner with him in his house before flying back to the East. Words could not describe what the experience did to him, plus the debt cancellation. The icing on the cake became the surprise phone call from the general followed by the invitation to dine at his house. And there, the duo of father and son, met the Wan Tor Tiv, Jamin, in the general’s house. And nobody knew what was discussed behind closed doors.
When Elder George Ugorji returned to Aba, he was a changed man: his flesh had returned to him, and despite vehemently rejecting assistance offered him by the Wan Tor, he suspected that the debt that had thinned his hair, raised his blood pressure and kept him awake praying noon and night, was magically cleared by the Tiv. And on returning to his workplace in Port Harcourt, Felix received a letter that his job’s status had changed from casual worker to permanent staff. Suddenly, George Ugorji understood what playing in the big league was all about.
The news broke fortunately for Ulari and her mother, of Jamin and a strange lady that looked like Ulari, when she was on holidays in Aba. Both the print media and the electronic carried it that the Wan Tor Tiv had broken Tiv age-long tradition by choosing and insisting on a non-Tiv wife. They were photographed together, hand in hand emerging from a boutique, shop attendants carrying their shopping bags behind them.
Senior left work and ran with two newspapers to her parents’ house. Her mother who was supervising a facial treatment in her inner office was surprised to see her. What happened she wanted to know? Senior took her upstairs, sat her down in her bedroom and admonished her to choose to live, and not allow any child to kill her. Then, she opened the dailies and showed her mother, Ulari who looked lighter and very polished now, leaving a boutique her hands laced with Jamin’s. Her mother got up hurriedly and began to run from the room to only-she-knew-where. Senior followed her calling, “Mama, I warned you. Hold your heart, hold your heart. Don’t die because of any child, you still have us.”
Mrs Ori Grace Ugorji ran to Ulari’s room. Ulari was sleeping, still in her nightgown, some books piled up near her pillow for it was just 10 am. She turned to Ugochi, “When was the picture taken? Ulari is here.” Senior bumped into her and stopped.
“Is she home? Is she home?” she asked her mum half-running after her, quite out of breath. She began to cry saying, “Ah, Mma, true is the saying, Live long and see evil!”
“She’s been home for two days,” their mother said.
“It’s not taken today. Let me see when…” Senior returned to the paper and read the small letters. “It was taken yesterday.”
“Then, it’s not Ulari,” their mother said.
“Who is it then? Who is it? He’s dumped Ulari for ‘onye ocha’…”
“…white lady that looks like Ulari. Hey!”
Ulari woke up. The din they were making in her room woke her up. Senior thrust the papers into her face. “The northerner has another girl who looks like you. He’s abandoned you!” Ulari sat up. She was up almost all-night reading. It took her a while to get her bearing and understood their story.
“What I do not understand is why he sent someone to ask your father for your hand, and then turned around to go out with someone else.” Their mother sat down on a chair because her waist ached when she sat on soft surfaces.
“But, is this not you, enyi (friend)?” Ugochi asked sitting down at the foot of Ulari’s bed.
“It’s not me. Tiv culture doesn’t permit their prince to marry outside their tribe,” Ulari said matter-of-factly.
“So, it’s off? His intentions are no longer valid?” her mother asked hopefully.
“Mma, nde Tiv don’t want me.”
“If this is not you,” Senior said, “he never was interested in you.”
“Maybe. I’m going to have my bath,” Ulari said and began to move out of the room. When she looked at her mum, she wore a happy face.
Culled from The Girls are not to Blame by Lechi Eke.
To be continued.
