The child stealer faces the community
By Abraham Nwankwo
Before the community he stood in fear:
In the full gaze of elders, women and children,
The latter two wailing and cursing him.
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“What have you done? Where’s Akunna?” they asked.
He could not utter a word in reply.
But something stronger spoke for him:
Drops of sweat, as thick as blood,
Like water drops on luxuriant cocoyam leaves,
Heralding end-of-rainy season rainfall,
Down his face in full force dripped.
Straight into infinity he steely gazed,
His eyes weird, fierce and expectant,
The bond of consanguinity he has threatened,
“Erima” – the spirit of blood bond he has profaned.
He had extended his eyes from ear to ear.
The “Ichies” – college of elders – for the ancestors spoke:
Pronounced his banishment from the clan to wit:
“Before the sun its bloody beam from the west has poured,
You must flee the clan and return no more.
Or else your blood will be spilled to wash the land.”
