The population census in Makoko village took place every 7 years. It was an unfortunate happening in disguise as a blessing.
Olabisi’s mother woke her up the morning of her 14th birthday, before the rooster had a chance to. Nudging her feet and whispering as she kept an eye on the bedroom window.
“wake up! wake up!!” she hissed as she stood up to make sure everything was packed and prepared.
You could not predict or anticipate what the next census would bring, her mother triple checked the bag she had packed the night before for her daughter, giving her new clothes that to the village would portray how grown up olabisi seemingly was.
They both looked behind every tree they passed as olabisi and her mother walked the path to her husband’s house. Farmers, being the first to wake up were headed to their farms, herding their goats and beasts along the way. Yes, they were curious what two women were doing out before sunrise, but they kept those thoughts to themselves.
Olabisi’s mothers’ heart skipped at every turn. A plan she had started to formulate from the last census and now it was coming to pass. Nothing was allowed to go wrong. naturally she worried that her daughter would have to grow up a lot faster, but was that not better? than being dragged to the kingdom on the hill to bear heirs for the king or work deep in the forest with evil spirits?
Ever since the wicked curse upon king ojuku, all his wives had been unable to bear male children. And so for past decades he had been in search for the ripe womb that will give him the heir, worthy enough to allow him step down from the throne, but to no avail. With every girl that gets plucked from their families, they were never heard from again.
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Her first night, Olabisi joined other thirteen wives of her husband on the floor of the house, they tried to console and patronize her. Telling her how this was a better fate than what awaited anyone who was sent to the king. But the blood in her ears boiled at a rate that discarder her hearing.
On the next market day, after the commotion from the population census had subsided, olabisi after asking her husbands permission, sojourned into the forest to change her situation for the better.
“how can you help the earth today my child?” the tree asked her. Her chest rising and shuddering as she looked around at the forest around her. The trees all looking the same, owls watching her ever move with curiosity in their illuminating eyes.
“i see” the tree responded after olabisi cursed and wept, using the wrapper around her waist to clean the sweat that had built up on her forehead, around her neck.
“if you wish for that to happen, it means you wish for the stars to rearrange in your favour” the tree said. She looked up to find the stars, but that trees canopied over her, blocking any sight of the sky, it looked almost intentional. Like the branches weaved themselves together for that purpose.
“that’s not an impossible feat” the tree responded to an unrelenting Olabisi.
“oya, pick up the soap, use it religiously and make your intentions clear” the tree said. She fidgeted as she dug her hands in the mud puddle that laid beside the tree, the smell putrid, piercing her nose.
“be warned, the consequences might be dire-” she cut the tree off, solid in her conviction. Nodding and bowing down in thanks, walking backwards with her eyes monitoring ever living and non living thing she could set her eyes on.
Olabisi followed the instructions of the tree as her first weeks as a newly wed went by. Naturally the time came when olabisi was expected to submit to her husband, the wives before her had coached and advised what would please him the most and how to get it done quicker. she dreaded the day that it came.
He sent all the wives and children to the market, keeping the house empty for the both of them.
He put his black lips around her body trying to serenade her as he smiled, taking in the length of her growing body, a visible drool on his face, his eyes hungry. Olabisi laid stiff whispering to the ceiling for this to end, holding her breath in intervals as he brought his lips up to meet her.
The tears streamed down her face, a silent prayer leaving her lips. He fidgeted with the drawstring around his native trousers, using his other hand to keep her still. He moved to grab himself from underneath the trousers when he screamed. He held himself in a fetal position, his hands on his groin, Cursing at the gods “what did you do to me you stupid girl!” he spat.
Olabisi got up, ran to the corner of the room watching in fear but grateful that the moments prior had ended. He stood up, wailing, peeking through his fingers that were held closely to his groin.
“WITCH!” He screamed, his face a distorted image.
The space that once housed the brain of his lust had now been vacant, empty. He took his hands and started to dig, there was only pubic hair, a space absent of genitals. He dug through the hair, almost like he expected to find something hidden underneath.
Olabisi watched as he dug deep, crying and cursing, the skin peeling under the weight of his nails, he started to bleed as he kept on clawing at the empty space, hoping for a different result. His distorted face looked up at Olabisi in fear and rage, asking her to undo whatever it was that she did.
She ran out of the house with the material from the bed wrapped around her breasts. Running as the sun started to set, the labourers on their way back looking at the young girl that ran like she was being chased. She did not stop until she got back to her mothers’ house.
A goat was tied to the tree in front of the house, a visible reminder of what she was worth. She burst into the living room, a bowl of unfinished yam and palm oil still on the table.
Behind the chair she saw her mother, splayed on the floor with her hands covering her face. Olabisi kicked her hands away, wanting to see what she was hiding from. She jumped back in horror as she saw that her mothers face was empty. The nose that once looked liked hers was no longer there, the eyes that were the same color as olabisis’ had vacatedthe sockets.
All that was left were the supple cheeks that looked out of place on a face with no other organs. She held onto herself, creeping away from the faceless corpse,a laugh finding its way out of her wailing mouth as she backed up against the wall.
Olabisi sat back down to eat, dipping the white yam in the palm oil, the red oil running down her fingers and into her fingernails.