Akwaudo came in the morning when Okoli had gone to see Nnadi to deliberate on important issues concerning their families. The bruises she got from him had gradually subsided and were slowly transforming into dark spots. As she entered Okoli's compound, Ibekwe heard the sound of her exculpating voice and came out from the hut to hug her."How are you doing Ibekwe?" Akwaudo asked, squeezing his head on her breast."I am fine," Ibekwe said and asked. "Why did you leave us and run away?" "I didn't run away. I went to see your grandparents," Akwaudo replied."Why didn't you take me along with you?""I forgot, maybe next time I will take you along with me. Cheer up Ibekwe and help me call your brother.""He is coming," Ibekwe said. "There he is.""Mother!" Ifeme said, running past Ibekwe. He hugged Akwaudo."How are you Ifeme?""I am fine."Ibekwe went inside and brought water for her to drink. Akwaudo drank.

The town crier sounded the metal gong, summoning the indigenes of Umuise to an important meeting in the village square. Men, women and children came out from different directions and as always, the children carried low stools from behind while the adults led the way.Osinala was the oldest man in Umuise. Also, he was once the richest man in Umuise before the incident that occurred between his son and Okoli swallowed a huge portion of his wealth. As was tradition, the oldest man was allowed to address the crowd if a good orator was not moved to speak. As the people of Umuise clustered in the village square, whispering about the unfortunate death of a man who looked like a diviner in a stream owned by Umuise before being reduced to silence by the metal gong of the town crier, Osinala was allowed to address the crowd."People of Umuise! Great people of Umuise!" Osinala chanted."Yaa!" They chorused."Great and wonderful people of Umuise!""Yaa!" 

After the burial of Adaugo and the unknown diviner, another meeting was quickly called and the people of Umuise gathered in the village square to hear what the council of elders had to say concerning the removal of the New Yam festival which some of them had refused to accept and the issue of Osisiakalaka's long stay in the village.Ekwensi was given the privilege to start the meeting and he did. He stood up and saluted the people with a short wave. He walked to the podium and waved again. The people of Umuise murmured as he began to speak. His speech was eloquent and sharp as he stressed the need of the elders to continue with their decision to stop the New Yam celebration because of the strange incidents that were happening in the village. He also mentioned Osisiakalaka name and appreciated him for the wonderful ways he has used to solve some of the problems of the people, emphasizing on his importance to the people of Umuise and the neighbouring villages. In the end, he be

James Streamer stared at the beautiful landscape, a mile away from him. His wispy blonde hair protruded from his brown trilby and covered some parts of his thick brownish eyes that were stretching to catch a glimpse at the beautiful terrain of Umuise. The year was 1873, more than a decade before the partition of Africa in a Berlin conference between 15 November 1884 – 26 February 1885. The meeting that saw the dark continent shredded into pieces and given to fellow European brothers.James blew his blonde hair with the air from his lungs, almost in a whistle and it retreated immediately. Holding his luggage firmly with a tight grip, he reassured himself that his journey had finally come to an end.The wooden luggage he held was a gift his father had given him in England. The luggage had an inscription that was carved with an old rusted nail to form a name written in bold letters: JESUS CHRIST. The most exasperating conditions James had to endure sinc

It was a small room, totally bare of any divination materials. The dreary light of the tired sun outside which filtered through the thatched roof, was totally absorbed by the muddy walls. Persistently, the vanguard horde of ants had invaded the small room, packing food in small quantities as they marched in a single file. Strangely, it was not the sound of the insects that bothered him the most but the nature of the silence that had engulfed his life.Quietly, he struck one of the ants but the full force of his palm hit an empty calabash, making him wince and curse under his breath. The ants separated from the column and dashed away, following different directions. He drew his weak body up, resting his back against the wall and stretched out his legs on the cold floor.He was covered with a weather-beaten wrapper and a rumpled shirt he had gotten from a native of Umudike who went to the mission station once in a while for help and supplies. As he stared at the shirt, h