07/09/2023
ANAMANA
(Historical Fiction)
In the past, there rose a young man whose strength was unrivaled among his mates. His name was Anamana. Just like his name, he was uncontrollable.
He was huge and a head above most men in the clan, young and old. Because of his uncanny stamina, stature and stubborn spirit, everyone, especially his mates, always gave him his way. No one would naturally argue with him over any issue—farm land, food or rights. While the other young men would look for a long stick to pluck a ripe paw paw, Anamana would simply shake the paw paw tree and then wait to catch the ripe fruit among the fruits that would fall from the force of his hands.
Just like most tragic heroes, Anamana could not manage his natural gift. He allowed his strength and the privileges people willingly gave him to enter his head. In time, he began to insult his elders. He did not even spare the old men.
"Go and call your son to fight me," he would challenge an old man after speaking or behaving rudely towards the old man.
"The rat that dances absent-mindedly in front of a trap must have an evil-minded drummer drumming for him," an old man once warned him.
"The rat, then, must be confident that the trap is nothing but a mockery," snapped Anamana.
"When a child starts challenging his elders, if he doesn't have money in his pocket, then he must have some charms there. What is really drumming for you, Anamana?"
"My strength, nna. My father is proud to have me as a son. If you are proud of your son, bring him out to challenge me."
"Be careful, Anamana. The ancestors are watching you. Make sure you have a seat reserved for you among them when you leave this earth."
Sadly, Ananama did not heed the old man's advice. In fact, he never regarded any piece of advice from the elders. He would simply tell them that the rat that is still growing teeth does not try it on a stone, that they should avoid him.
You would surely ask what role did Anamana's parents play all along, wouldn't you? Well, I will tell you.
In Edda tradition, it behoves a man to raise a man. It is a general saying that a snake killed by a woman does not bleed. It would only take a special kind of woman, a manly woman, to raise a hero out of a male child. All that the women are accustomed to are the kitchen work, raising their daughters in a way they will make good wives in future, the use of 'omere Ugep' machete, as against the 'oge' machete a real man in Edda is expected to wield, and the planting of the 'feminine' yams—'ona', 'nkasi', 'edu' and 'mbula'.
Given this background, the onus was on Anamana's father to put a check on the erring young man. But did his father stand up to this responsibility?
Anamana's father was a great dibia. He too was boastful of his art. He never feared or respected anyone because he believed that no man could do him any harm. His charms were a potent protection for him. Thinking that he would always be there for his son in times of severe confrontation, physical or spiritual, he was adamant against the community's call to put the unruly young man in check.
With Anamana's increase in his sauciness to his elders came a heightened hatred against him. The elders plotted secretly and waited for an opportunity to deal with him.
The opportunity came at last. It was the 'Igba Mgbom' game of the year. The 'Mgbom' was a game the Edda people used to test the strength of their young men. As such, it was not a game for effeminate young men or those with lumps of flesh on their chests instead of muscles.
All the young men participating in the game had to walk or run from Edda to Mgbom in Afikpo and come back with objects purposely left at Mgbom Afikpo as a proof that they really got to the finish line. They had to do this without taking either water of food.
As I had earlier said, it was a game of the brave. Only young men who could endure hunger and thirst for hours and those with exceptional stamina could succeed in this game. Again, it used to be 'war', because a lot could happen along the way going or coming back. Some young men would faint along the way or have their enemy or the enemy of their fathers waylay them along the track roads and eliminate them.
Those who completed the task were highly welcomed back to the village and honoured. Their parents would be given yams, goat, c**k, palm wine and so on to appreciate the heroism of their young men. The young men called 'ewa Mgbom' would also be honoured with farm land presents referred to as 'ali ike'.
While Anamana was itching for the event and hoping to be declared the champion of the year, some of the elders were waiting to use the event to show him what the spirits do with the ears of the fowl.
As expected, Anamana took off from Edda, ran manly along the narrow paths to Mgbom Afikpo, got his souvenir and then started on his way home. A lot of the other competing young men trudged far behind him while some fainted along the way. With the gap between them, it would only take a dint of sorcery for Anamana to be overtaken.
However, Anamana had three hills to climb before tramping down the slope that would throw him into the hands of his over-excited villagers. Then, as he mounted on the first hill, his feet began to weigh more than a rock. To lift one foot would require the strength of seven mighty men. But Anamana was only Anamana, and no seven mighty men.
This reminds me of the arrogant woodpecker. The woodpecker used to peck wood for the burial of other birds. Then he began to brag that he would peck all the wood in their vicinity the day his mother would die. But when the day eventually came that his mother did die, the woodpecker had boils all over his mouth!
At the foot of the first hill, Anamana was like the woodpecker. His strength, the one he used to brag about, was just rendered a crap. He pulled and pulled, mounting all the strength he had, but all to no avail. In time, it became clear that the young man was being manipulated. A great charm was working on him.
You would ask again where his 'dibia' father was, right?
Before the take off of the young men for the marathon from Edda to Mgbom Afikpo, Anamana's father had 'fortified' his son to his taste, 'clearing' his path to and fro and 'liquidating' any obstacle, human or spiritual, that might come his way along the lonely, dreary distance between the two clans. As I had pointed out, his charms were so powerful that he had little or nothing to fear about men. So, he considered the year's 'igba Mgbom' as nothing and went his way.
So, by the time Anamana was wrestling with bewitchment from his enemies, his father was in the bush gathering some herbs with all the cares of the world cast behind him.
Back in his village, the people had their expectations dashed to shreds when it had way passed the time they anticipated the emergence of Anamana on top of the last hill that was overlooking the village. It was then that one young man went running and searching for Anamana's father. He later found him in his usual bush.
"Come quickly, ette!"
"What is it?" said Anamana's father, dropping the herbs in his hands and stepping forward to meet the young man.
"Come! Come, nna. The duck is drowning in the water!"
"Tufia! Not in Edda will such an abomination begin! Get out of the way!"
Anamana's father took off from the bush and trotted behind the young man who ran ahead of him. The young man was surprised that the old man simply broke into a run without asking him any further questions to get the information he had come along with. But as he picked his steps slowly now to help the the old man keep in pace with him, he concluded that 'dibias' had four eyes, anyway—two for the physical world and the others for the spiritual realm. Yet, he wondered why he had to alert the 'dibia' in the first place before he sensed his son was in danger.
When Anamana's father found his son reduced to nothing, sweat was pouring out of his body like the quick drift of Iyi Okali down to Ali Ugwelu. Although he was now halfway up the hill, he was losing his chances of arriving the village on his feet and risking tumbling down the slope on the other side of the hill like a stone.
The old man touched his son and said, "The fowl knows the size of the chick he carries. Anamana, you are too big for a baby hawk to mess you up. I command you to move!"
At that instant, Anamana felt an incredible lightness and agility come over him. He picked up the race again with the vigour of a spirited 'egede' masquerade.
When the enthusiastic villagers were informed of the turn of event, their curiosity heightened, and their expectations renewed.
Anamana ran victoriously ahead of his father, but he could not triumph anymore. The old 'dibia' climbed down from the first hill only to find his son again at the bottom of the second hill powerless and stockstill. His trouble was double as much as the first his father had just released him from.
The old man cast off the spell again on Anamana and had him speed off again with a stamina greater than the one he had begun the marathon with. But Anamana had to run again ahead of his father, for he was losing time. The other few young men who were making it successfully back to the village were gradually closing in. So, he had to run as fast as he could to not only arrive the village on his feet but also to be the first to be welcomed back from Mgbom. The celebration he was going to enjoy was above all. So, he had to run ahead of his father.
By the time Anamana's father met him hypnotized again halfway the third and last hill to the village, the young man was lying helplessly on the hill like an exhausted beast of burden. He was too burned out for any more magical experiment from his 'dibia' father. So, Anamana did not only lose the Mgbom game and the honour that was undoubtedly his but was also carried on a stretcher into the village.
What societal lessons can be derived from this story?
Geared towards restoring the lost pride
