A fourth year into her marriage to Ononiru's family, Amanke was yet to conceive. Many herbs and roots had been tested on her for this, but none showed potency in her case. Edoro was as worried about this as any reasonable human would. No doubt the problem was not coming from Ekwulu. He had fathered multiple births.
At this point, the impatience of Edoro had started telling on her, so much so that she was willing to break any wall to have a child in the name of her husband. And now in her heart, bringing in another woman was not in her line of thoughts. Many things had started losing their cultural taste. They had lost their flavor and were becoming more or less dangerous routes lately, and that included easily marrying a woman into a home to raise children in the name of a dead man instead of a man they could point at.
It was a revolutionizing moment at this time following the death of a young lady, Ukamaka, who had died at the hands of a co-wife who had married her on behalf of her late husband. All she wanted was a name for her husband, and not even for herself. The accused had acted in self-defense, and that led to the death of the pregnant Ukamaka.
It was on Orie market day that that message came to Amanke that her father was dead. She cried her heart out and was seen being consoled by soulful Ekwulu. This moved Edoro in hundreds of ways. ''Such a man deserves women'' she muttered these words as she went back into her hut. It didn't take time before Amanke prepared, and made a quick journey to their village, Oguike.
Two days after she left for her village, Oguike, Edoro came to Ekwulu's hut at the setting of the sun. She met Ekwulu washing off his hands after eating porridge yam. He greeted her, but, surprisingly, she immediately knelt down before him.
''What's the problem, mama?'' Ekwulu asked as he tried lifting her up. ''Please, Ekwulu, I didn't come to enjoy the contours of your manliness and make my body sweet. I am begging you to make me a mother again. As you know, it has been four years since I married Amanke. She is yet to conceive. You and I know how much we have spent making her conceive, but we have not seen anything changed for her. The name of my husband is about being wiped from the memory record of Isumeh. I don't know, but I can't watch or see this happen. I can't steal people's children for this. If not, I would have gone for one to adopt as a son. Don't look at me tonight as your mother. Of course, you found out for yourself that I am not, although you still take care of me as your mother. I thank you for that. God will reward you.
''You see, I know the risk it is to think about pregnancy at my age. But as water and blood still make exit in-between my two legs, I can conceive for my husband. And your strong presence will help me to wade through the storm with great ease. There is nothing you can do for me that surpasses helping me and my husband, Ononiru, to have a successor to call ours. Please, anyhow you choose to do it, do it. Let me not die in silence. I need something good to tell Ononiru when I meet him again. You know he died a broken man. See me as a stranger tonight, and not as your mother'' Edoro pleaded. Ekwulu was dumbfounded, there are things too dirty for the mind but too holy for the head. Ononiru, a man who raised a son for another man, deserves one.
Ekwulu asked Edoro to get seated. She did. ''I know your feelings about all this. But I know I can help you marry another woman, and try our luck on that one'', he continued. ''What if the Gods had destined only me to have children for Ononiru? I am more concerned about myself now than any other woman. Stop talking to me like your mother. Talk to me as a woman just tonight'' Edoro said, thunderously. Ekwulu looked as helpless as a man held by a fox by his balls.
''With these eyes of mine, mama, I can't do it. But I will make a suggestion. Let's pick a date on which I will drink my soul out and become helpless. You will come in and utilize anything you see on me. Let it happen that way, like a dream, so that we will remain afterward what we used to be. We may continue this until you become pregnant. Just make sure it's not the same Ekwulu each time it happens, because you will always be my mother. Eish, I don't know'', Ekwulu replied. Edoro was all thankful as she left Ekwulu's hut.
Edoro went back into her hut and was all honey in her heart and mind. At least, she was sure of a man that would father her child. A man she raised herself. A noble and caring man. The joy couldn't let her do anything as she was walking around her hut imagining so many things, among which was the possibility of her child being fathered by Ekwulu for the man who saw to it that Ekwulu survived, and became who he was. She suddenly took up her keg, and dashed out to Diochi Ibe's house. He was the nearest palm wine tapper in their neighborhood.
Her entry into Diochi Ibe's house at such a time was least expected. She told them that her brother's son had visited his friend, and she needed palm wine to keep them busy while she prepared a meal for them. She also told Diochi Ibe that they preferred the fermented one to the fresh one.
When she wanted to pay him, Diochi Ibe refused, and instead gave her another keg of fresh palm wine for herself. ''Do not worry about payment. I still remember what your late husband meant to me. I am earnestly waiting to reward him very soon. I really pray that our ancestors grant your wish through Amanke, my niece'' Diochi Ibe said. ''Isee- may it be so'' Edoro said, thanked him, and left. When she got back home, she quietly went inside her hut, through her backyard, and took a breather on her stool, reminiscing as goosebumps filled up her body. ''For the sake of you, Ononiru, I have to do this'' she said as she leaned heavily on the wall.
Later on, she took her bath, rubbed palm kernel oil, put on her clothes, lifted the two kegs of palm wine and headed to Ekwulu hut. She knocked at the door, and was told to come in. She met Ekwulu, who had just taken his bath. ''Mama, it smells like palm wine, where did you get it by this time of the night?'' Ekwulu asked. ''Ekwulu, listen, there is nothing about mama, between you and me this night. Have your drink. You may choose to give me. My eyes are clear; I know why I am here. I am not pretending about it. You may choose to make me drunk anyway, but alas, let me achieve my purpose'', Edoro said, unashamedly. Or maybe she had swallowed shame on purpose.
Ekwulu was stunned, and sat down. He quietly went inside and took out two bamboo stem cups. They started drinking with familiar talks that landed them in unfamiliar ones of nothingness that only burns out of the bellies of drunkenness. Minds had been made up; it thus only needed a boast to launch them into the bubble that was nature. Things were made to look great when looked at with innocent and beautiful eyes of ignorance and naivety.
Within three hours of their drunkenness, the seeds which held the promise of life had formed an entourage that accompanied one of their kind on a journey of proof that would take nine months to bow before the sun above it, and the earth would house it.
With little consciousness, Edoro literarily crawled back into her hut with her kegs of palm wine. She had really served her guesses. Ekwulu was fast asleep as he was not a drinking type. If wine was heaven, he would have tasted its sweetness tonight and if it was hell, he might not recover from its pangs. From next morning how he survived it all shall be told if he eventually does.
Edoro was surprised to have noticed that Ekwulu had not woken up since the morning. She went to his hut and found him still sleeping. She called him, and woke him up. They exchanged greetings, before she went back to her hut, and prepared a highly valued Ukwa meal for Ekwulu.
When she went to present the meal to Ekwulu, she noticed that Ekwulu looked disturbed. ''What is it, Ekwulu, are you not well?'' Edoro asked while caressing the back of visibly weakened Ekwulu. ''The dream I had was so dirty mama'' Ekwulu replied, trying to be strong. ''I have told you till I see sign; keep the word 'mama' aside until we achieve this. I still kept the remaining wine'' Edoro said, laughingly.
''I saw myself leaking up my sour wound on my right palm. What could this be mama?'' Ekwulu asked. ''Stop calling me mama for now, at least Amanke and Nene are not here. About your dream; that was the power of soured palm wine. It shouldn't disturb you. You took more of the sour palm wine last night. Meanwhile, I wish you had stayed as Ononiru's son to inherit all he labored for and me. I have been wondering why you chose Idomma over Uyom,'' Edoro said, stuttering with a soft but daring voice.
In some republics of theirs, a willing son could marry his willing late father's wife, and even raise children. Those children were his. But in this case, Edoro's child, if she has any with Ekwulu, would still remain Ononiru's because he was no longer his son, and paid no bride price on her. It was purely a sacrifice if it was for procreation. At least that was how it was seen culturally, and was a respected practice among the people.
The night journeys of Edoro and Ekwulu continued with its kegs of palm wine till Edoro was visibly pregnant, and resorted to nurturing her pregnancy. When Ekwulu noticed that Edoro had become pregnant, he consciously recoiled back into the mother-son relationship they used to have, and Edoro became once more comfortable answering the mama she used to be. Purpose had been achieved and the lust and lure created for it had also waned. Ekwulu's seed was germinating in the womb that was Edoro's. From this moment on, noticeably, Diochi Ibe's fermented palm wine no longer made its way to Ononiru's house almost every evening.
Nine months after their conjugal meetings, Edoro gave birth on Afor market day. It came as wished; a cute baby boy. It was a thing of joy for relatives, friends, and well-wishers of Ononirus. It was a full house as the news came before people were prepared for their Afor Isumeh market square.
Diochi Ibe was one of the first runners that graced his late friend's house, with acrobatic dances he performed beside the strip his friend was led to rest. It was a mixture of tears of joy and a moment missed by a dear friend of decades. People around could read meanings in each of the steps he took. They knew these two so well, and how far their friendship blossomed before they were parted by the force of nature that is called death.
Two days after the birth of Edoro's son, whom people had started calling Ononiru incarnate already without consulting divination, Edoro had a dream. It was a short dream that did not come with detail. That was the face of Ononiru on the body of the little child of Edoro. ''I am the face of the wrong, and you are the back of it'' the voice said.
This dream nearly gave Edoro a serious devotional time on thinking. However, the joy of motherhood has many ways to make big things appear small and small things appear big. There was gainsaying that she was now a part of this. She quickly rebuffed the dream as mere malaria symptoms, and asked Amanke to prepare malaria herbs for her. From the first day she took the herbs, such dreams stopped.
However, the truth is, her heart, which was full of joy, hardly allowed her to have a no-hold-barred type of sleep that gives details to dreams. Hers were now in trances, as dreams come through sleep. And good dreams come through good sleep. Edoro didn't have any. She rather used the time to lecture Amanke on how to raise her legs while conjugating with Ekwulu to achieve her own pregnancy. ''Be in charge of what goes into you,'' she would advise her.
Astonishingly, however, the striking resemblance was a way out of this world. It appeared as though Ononiru the old man had been reduced to baby-size with just an evener, and a much younger skin on a baby who was now the owner of a group of downing breasts. It was all a joyful reminder of a face that once adorned his family for nearly seven decades. It was such a visibly striking resemblance!