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SILENCE took the centre stage in my family and rendered its worst performance. With Ofo’s death and Ógù’s disappearance, I, Ekwe and Ekemma brooded and hardly talked to one another. It was as if we spoke with our silence and made known our intentions and suggestions to one another. It is not easy to lose a member of one’s family, let alone when the loss came through an abominable and heartrending means.

Ekemma was the most hit by the tragedy. On the day she learnt about Ofo’s death, after I and our few surviving men returned from the war, she threw herself to the ground with such an earth-shattering impact that I feared that she must have broken her bones, and wept so much that her eyes reddened and sagged, making her look like an old witch.

She refused to be consoled by anybody, not even her mother. And when I tried my luck, she faced me with every bit of strength in her and vented her spleen.

‘‘Leave me alone!’’ she howled like a wolf. ‘‘Ju…Just leave me a…’’ Her voice cracked, and she coughed. Mucus trailed down from her nostrils and coalesced with her tears. She was a pitiable look.

I tried to come close to her, but she scooped earth in her hand and threw it at me, as if I were a dog she must chase away.

‘‘Go away! Just leave me alone! You caused all these! I told you my nightmare and…’’ Her voice cracked again. ‘‘And begged you not to allow Ofo go to that war! You refused! You You refused! See it now! ’’ She threw open her palms in confirmation of her assertions. Then, she ran inside, into her mother’s room, and banged the door behind her.

As days went by, Ekemma looked like a mad woman — unkempt hair and same dress. She looked into an empty space and spoke to herself. She hardly ate. Then, she felt ill.

Ekwe, her mother, broke down in tears. She accused me of bringing the doom on my family. She cursed me for being insistent on my own opinion, and neglecting hers and Ekemma’s.

I think she was right, because, everyday, I blamed myself for letting Ofo go to that war with us. Now, I had lost two sons of mine. Who would succeed me? Hot tears pricked my eyes.

When Ekemma’s strange illness exacerbated, we invited a herbalist. But that didn’t help at all. Then, her mother saw the first signs few days after she received medication from the herbalist: vomiting, spitting and shivering. Ekemma was pregnant!

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