Christabel Morrison

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

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.