Christabel Morrison

The joy of having a solid mom in-law. She stands with you no matter what.

Who did she call?
Why did she ask them to leave?
Can you guess?

The Dancers Sword Episode 3

Three days had gone by, and there was no trace of Ola’s body anywhere around the village. The villagers had come to the conclusion that Ola was blown away by the wind, but Mazi Ibe refused to accept that.
‘Mazi Ibe’ Igwe Uzodinma called his attention. The elders had gathered for their weekly council meeting, and the king had decided to use the opportunity to intervene, since Mazi Ibe had turned down the opinion of the elders who encouraged him to make preparations for his daughter’s burial.
‘Igwe.’ Mazi replied.
‘I cannot say I know how you feel right now, but I know you must be going through a lot of pain. Losing a child is a dreadful experience, and Ola happened to be a really special child. But as it is Mazi, a terrible fate has befallen our land. Our most beautiful flower has dried out in the rain, and we cannot deny the facts before us. As it is customary, the three days of waiting has elapsed, and a burial has to be conducted.”
“Igwe… May your days on the throne be long and prosperous,” Mazi Ibe said, getting on his feet.
“Ise…,” the other elders chorused.
“Igwe, my Ola is not dead. I don’t believe my Ola is dead and if she is, then give me time to find her body and bury her. At least I will know where she is. Can you imagine what my life will be like, waking up every morning and wondering, where is Ola today? Has she eaten? Is she trying to find her way back home? Or has she been eaten up by a wild beast in the forest? I can’t spend the rest of my life like that, Igwe, I will lose my mind.”
“It’s a terrible situation, Mazi, but we can’t break the custom. I have sent a message to Dibịa Nze Mmadu, he will be here by sunset tomorrow to perform the rituals of her burial. That will be all for now,” the king said, dismissing his cabinet.
Mazi Ibe walked back home with Mazi Ignatius by his right and Mazi Okosisi by his left. He didn’t hear a word of all they had been saying; his mind raced all over seeking answers that didn’t seem forthcoming. He could hardly believe that a burial would be organized for Ola the next day. He found it hard to take it in; he didn’t know how to relate this information to his wife.
“Mazi Ibe,” Mazi Okosisi called for the fourth time.
“Okosizi, you called me.”
“Yes, for the fourth time now. Listen, Mazi Ibe, I know this is a horrible experience. I mean, what could be worse than a father burying his own child?”
“Aru!” Mazi Ignatius swore. “But you need to prepare your mind for what must happen tomorrow,” Mazi Okosisi concluded.
“Thank you, Mazi Okosisi, but I have to leave you two now. I hope you don’t mind?”
“No, it’s alright,” Mazi Okosisi replied. Mazi Ibe shook hands with his colleagues and walked ahead of them.

THE DANCERS SWORD EPISODE 2

Adaugo could hardly contain herself as she watched the young men return with a pained look on their faces, and her daughter nowhere in sight. She got up from the stool where she now sat in front of the hut and began to pace around the hut as afternoon sun began to give way to the soft caressing evening breeze.
“Mazi, calm down. Mazi has not returned, so we can’t conclude yet.”
“Ezinne, don’t tell me to calm down, there is nothing to be calm about. If Mazi had her, he would have been here by now,” she replied still pacing.
“Adaugo, please put yourself together,” the other women said.
“Mazi!” Adaugo screamed, ignoring the futile counsel as she ran towards her husband who was approaching with Mazi Ignatius by his side.
“Mazi, where is our daughter?” she asked, throwing herself to the ground and weeping hysterically.
“Oh my ancestors, my daughter is gone. Hei! Where did I go wrong? Who did I offend? Why will the gods take my only child? What have I done to deserve this? Olamma! Olamma please come back home.” She continued to wail until Ezinne was able to get a hold of her with the help of other women that were present; she took her into the hut.
The villagers began to gather as the news circulated. The villagers wept, some maidens threw themselves on the floor and wept profusely. Ola was loved by everyone in the village except for a few who envied her. She had been crowned the best dancer of the year, but the title never got to her; she remained as humble as she had always been, and maintained a good relationship with the old ones, the youths and the maidens. She was her parents’ joy; her father never wished for another child. Ola was all he wanted in a child; it didn’t matter that she was a female child. She was her mother’s best friend, and they talked about anything and everything. She was her mother’s angel, and she couldn’t contain this horrid reality.

THE DANCERS SWORD.
OLAMMA IS MISSING! HELP!! HELP!!!

It was a windy morning, all the villagers stayed in their huts to avoid the disaster that came with the wind. Pots were carried away by the wind, clothes flew in the air, and the trees danced vigorously. The wind was so strong that it could lift people; the villagers knew better than to come out during such storms. They believed it was an evil spirit visiting the land.
Olamma had gone out in the early hours of the day before the wind started. Determined to finish her chores earlier than usual, she woke up very early and headed for the stream. She was returning to the stream for the third time that morning when the storm launched out. She ran for a while, leaving her pot at the foot of an orange tree, but the wind came harder. Realizing that she wouldn’t make it far before the wind started lifting things and people, she left the path and went into the forest. She held onto the trunk of a tree and started screaming for help. In spite of her doubt that anyone could hear her amidst the noisy wind, she persisted. Kneeling by the foot of the tree, she held onto it and began to sob with her face bowed to the ground as she thought of villagers who had been carried away by the wind. Some were found dead, and some were never seen again; she sobbed hysterically. Suddenly, a branch fell from the tree and hit her hard on the head.
Adaugo paced the room with her hands on her head as she begged the gods to save her only child. She looked through the window and could see nothing but dust; she quickly closed the window and withdrew.
“Woman, I have told you not to look through that window again. We know that there is no way she can walk in the wind,” her husband scolded.
“I know, but how can I help it? My only child is in the storm.”
“Well, pacing around is not going to bring her back, so sit down!”
She quickly sat on the stool at the center of the hut, knowing he had lost his patience with her. Being a man who rarely let his emotions show, he remained calm. At moments like this, when he was at the height of his emotions, he would rather withdraw and remain quiet than show how worried, scared, or nervous he was.
The storm went on strongly for over an hour and gradually subsided, but the villagers waited a while before they got out of their huts.
“Remain inside,” Mazi Ibe ordered as he swung the door open and headed for the stream. Adaugo remained where she was without a word as she watched him leave the hut. She desperately hoped he would find her, although she knew that Ola didn’t stand a chance of surviving the storm. Several minutes passed with Adaugo still on her seat, unable to stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.
“Adaugo?” she heard her friend calling her by her first name.
“Yes,” she replied quickly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Please come in, Ezinne.”
“What’s going on?” Ezinne asked as she came into the hut.
“How do you mean?” Adaugo asked.
“What do you mean by how do you mean? See how swollen your face is, and I just saw Mazi running towards the stream like a wounded lion, calling for Ola.”
“Nwanem, lenu anya. Look at me. Ola woke up very early this morning, insisting that she must go to the stream because she wanted to make it early for her dance rehearsals.”
“What’s your point, Adaugo?”
“She had gone to the stream for the third fetch when the storm started.”
“Ewo!” Ezinne screamed, placing her hand on her head. “Ezi we data onu gi. Bring down your voice so that we don’t call the attention of the villagers. We can’t say if anything has happened to her until Mazi returns.”
“What do you mean by can’t say? Anyway, let’s pray that somehow the gods will show us mercy this time.”
“Udo diri unu.” Mazi Ignatius greeted as he came into the hut.
“What’s going on, I heard someone scream from here. Where are Mazi Ibe and Ola?” He asked looking around.
“Ola went to the stream before the storm and Mazi Ibe has gone to look for her.” Ezinne replied, while Adaugo stared into thin air, not blinking an eyelid.
“What! No, this is not good. Adaugo, I don’t want you to worry, we will find and bring Ola back home. Ezinne keep an eye on her.” He ordered and left the hut.
“Umuokobia… Umuokorobia…” Mazi Ignatius called at the top of his voice as the young men of the village gathered together. “Listen everyone, Olamma, the daughter of Mazi Ibe, went to the stream before the storm began.”
“Chei ewo! Ihe eme!” the young men exclaimed as some shook their heads pitifully.
“This is not the time to mourn,” Mazi Ignatius continued. “We are all going to the stream. We will search its environs for any trace of her. We will find her and bring her home to her parents. Is that clear?”
“O… Mazi,” they replied in a rhythmic chorus as they dispersed, calling out her name.
Mazi Ibe stood by the bank of the stream, looking across and all around it, but neither Ola nor her clay pot was in sight. He turned around and walked away from the stream, exhausted from calling out her name. As he walked back, he kept looking into the forest. Everywhere around him was quiet except for the soft music made by the trees.
“Mazi Ibe!” he heard a familiar voice call out to him. Turning around, he saw Mazi Ignatius walking towards him.
“Mazi, what are you doing here?” Mazi Ibe asked.
“I heard about Ola, so I summoned the youths. They are all over looking for her now.”
“Thank you, Mazi Ignatius.”
“You are welcome, my friend. I think you should go home; you look really exhausted.”
“Hmm,” Mazi Ibe sighed. “There is no chance I’m going home without my daughter.”
“I know how you feel, Mazi, but we both know how capable our young men are.”
“I don’t care how capable anyone is. I just want to find my daughter.”
“It’s okay then, let’s keep searching.”
“Thank you,” Mazi Ibe said as they went on calling her name and searching all over.

She didn't change

☹️😓😥

Get over yourself

LITOTENE PRT1

They threw her to the street, watch what happens afterwards