“If you like say fi.”
“Do you think I am scared of you?”
“If you are a man, with a branch and two fruits between your legs just say fi.”
The sound of thunderous slap that emanated from the left cheek and ear of Bra Laryae was more resounding than a church bell which had been rang to assemble people. It vibrated in his head like Nokia 3310 on vibration as his obviously reddened eyes tried not to shed tears at the market square. He had to be a ‘man.’ His wife had just shown him his real ‘size.’
This is a story of the people of Alata Samina.
Narrator: Towns people have gathered at the market square to witness another fight among the warriors. Men with slim chests and broad stomachs lined up the first row to have a better view of the fight. They know that one doesn’t enter a battle because of the size of his stomach acquired from drinking fermented palm wine. The women, with their hair neatly rolled, stood behind the crowd smiling at the warriors as they showed them the better side of their bodies in order to gain their love. The strongest gets the prettiest and, in this case, it’s the daughter of the king.
Light fades from Narrator unto the people. Chattering among towns people is silenced when the Chief Priest raised his wand.
King Kofi [speaking with strict voice and stern look]: My people, the time has come for tradition to be continued. I am ready to give my daughter to the strongest man in our land. One whose strength is given by Abiola, the god of iron, and whose sense is given by Taduna, the god of wisdom. Our elders say that “give a man whose strength is stronger than a hundred lions and whose wisdom is richer than gold to your daughter and he will give you a generation of sane grandchildren.” May Gidiga, the god of war, bless this fight.
Towns people cheered happily as the fight was about to begin amidst applause. Linguist takes over from the king to ginger the crowd more.
Linguist [poised with strength]: People of Alata…. kwenu!
People [excited]: Yaa!
Linguist: Again, I say, kwenu!
Linguist: kwezue nu!
People [with more vigour]: Yaaaaaaa!
Linguist [gesturing to the palace drummers]: Let the drumming begin!
And failing to time his action with the sound of the drums, the Chief Priest’s fart, was heard loud and clear. And as the Queen gave him a surprising look, he said “Your Highness, the gods have spoken.”
To be continued…
A Verse by Kotey.