THE BOOK OF THE STRANGER

Eiish you guys who have been pressing me to post the sequel to against the sky no, hmmmmm you de3 it's coming wae 😉....Here's a little short story that has been sitting in my drafts for like. .. Well, forever! 😵....It was written spontaneously so here's to spontaneous reading ... Enjoy! 

  He walked with a spring in his steps though his tired heart warned him of the act being unwise. Soon he was panting like a rabid dog but how could he stop?

 He longed to hold Efua in his arms again after being at war for most part of the year. The prospect of this brought him an energy that was tucked away somewhere in his body and he started to jog.

"Yaw hold on! your woman will not vanish!", Donkor, his travelling companion teased.

But Yaw had already dived behind a thick grove and Donkor was forced to run in a bid to catch up to him.

" Loser buys the other a pot of palm wine" Yaw challenged.

"You've got yourself a wager" Donkor riposted whiles increasing his speed.

He had bought the five palm wine rounds the past five times he had challenged Yaw but this time he was determined that Araba, the palm wine tapper was getting none of his cowries.

He accelerated and zoomed past Yaw like a grass cutter that was being chased by five "bosanga" dogs, his finish line, their village, Bema's gates.
Yaw was just happy he had gotten him(Donkor) to race him home, it meant he'll get home soon.

Incidentally, he leapt out of the forest into the dirt path that led to their village. The sun seemed to glare radiantly at him; he also smiled back.

"The gods be praised...for today I have won a race against you!", Donkor said amidst boisterous laughter.

Yaw feigned a grim nod when he joined Donkor at the gates of the city, that were wedged between two huge Odum trees. It was what added that oomph to Bema's aesthetic, square terrain.

Yaw could have won the race simply on normal days, but thoughts of Efua were all that mattered at the moment.
He promised Donkor he would honor his promise in the morning but for now they had to get inside and brief their chief, Nana Asebu, on the victory they had attained in their battle against the raiders from the, led by that vicious Goma, whose head no longer occupied his neck.

The gates were opened by two sentries whose faces told tales of the sleep they'd not got the night before. They bowed in tandem when Yaw walked through the gates followed closely by Donkor, as was the custom for subordinate soldiers to do for their captain.

" Nana, ‘adwo ber3oo'"*  Yaw and Donkor's voice resonated in the chief's court.

"You are welcome my sons", the chief responded cheerfully.

Nana had already received the news of their victory but custom demanded that the captain who led the attack inform him in person, a mere formality as it were. Yaw had been requested for personally by the King of Oguaa to help in the war, even though it wasn't Bema that was being attacked.

 As the ancestors say," a bite to the heel, is a bite to the buttocks".  Yaw had agreed to Captain their sister-town, Efutu's warriors, against the northern raiders and had emerged victor.

Yaw was happy when Nana finally dismissed him. He parted ways with Donkor and made way past rows of palm-thatched huts, all the while thinking of what Efua could be doing at that moment.

 "Perhaps she's making those little clay pots she loves making or maybe she had a ladle in hand, trying to chase away the neighbors’ goats that had come to consume the cassava she dried in the sun", he thought to himself.

He found himself at the entry of his compound. A bleat here, a crow there, he took it all in and thanked the gods for bringing him safely back home. He walked through the gates and walked to the backyard where the kitchen stood erect, spitting smoke. A figure was in there stirring a liquid content in a cauldron.
Instinctively, she turned around and caught the eyes of the man who stood outside watching her.

The leaves of the trees nearby rustled, the air grew warm and a cackle was heard somewhere. Time seemed to stand still as the two people stood transfixed staring at each other. The girl ran and hugged Yaw tightly as she had not felt his warmth in what seemed to her like forever.

" Efua I..."

"Shhhhh...Yaw...don't talk"

The two young lovers stood in that fashion, in each other’s arms, tears of joy in eyes, whispers of love in their hearts not interested in letting each other go.

Momentarily forgetting the soup on her swish stove that boiled with vigor and the sun that went to set in the west!

Oblivious of the fact that somewhere, men were swearing revenge on the man who had decapitated their brother and master.

Two souls, oblivious of the very hell that was about to be rained on their lives!...


*"Adwo br3oo" - a greeting of good tidings on a person


Ps: don't keep, share & leave a comment ✌