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|Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 3:33pm On Jan 03|
Hi, please do enjoy this story. It is completed on this part. Editing can be infuriating but I hope to draw strenght from here as I once used to. It's a long ride. I'm sure you will enjoy it.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 3:34pm On Jan 03|
Simisola Owolabi stared at her chubby face in the toilet mirror and pinched herself to be sure she didn’t hallucinate the event that happened a few minutes back.
How was I there and back? She wondered.
The cold from within, sweat on her body, nose-raising feeling of soap, and her shaky breathes made her know she wasn’t dreaming. What happened to her was absolutely real.
From the corner of her eyes, she sighted a tiny fair hand trying to grab her shoulders. Hurriedly, she pulled out of reach and turned to face her date, Maxwell Omoleye, a slim fair guy with an oblong head full of white hair that made people dubbed him Wole Soyinka, the Nigerian writer. Him buying into the idea and retaining the hairstyle nauseated her because it transformed him to a scarecrow, especially with his black glasses fashioned with thick industrial rims.
‘What happened there?’ Max’s voice quivered. The fear in his eyes as he stared at her that moment assured her of her own sanity.
His mountain flower body spray graced her nostrils and sparked a ravenous desire to release herself into his arms, which was her initial plan, careful about nothing, especially her virginity.
Simi shook her head, frantically. ‘You don’t understand’.
‘Help me understand!’ Max adjusted his glasses.
Simi wheezed and looked around, wanting for word. She herself couldn’t explain what happened. Fortunately, two ladies cackled as they pushed their way into the toilet.
Seeing them, the ladies stopped. A derisive grunt came from the darker of the ladies. Simi wished for her body, which despite being donned in the smallest adult t-shirt Simi had ever seen, still looked smaller in it.
Max turned from one side to another, confused.
Simi seized the opportunity, fled the scene, squeezed her fat body past the ladies into the main part of the restaurant, grabbed her green Louise Vuitton’s handbag, and made for the door. Max was hot on her tail. She could feel him breathing down her neck.
Knowing that he valued temper control, she concentrated on getting out of exquisite Tori’s Kitchen, the classiest restaurant in Fortune City.
Max paid handsomely to get them a reservation and now she was ruining the perfect Valentine day he had set for them because all she needed was to be tucked away in her bed, buried under the huge flowery blanket, listening to Adele, drowning in her wonder. There, she would pinpoint the root of this problem. Max, nineteen, was three years older than she, but always looked like a child. Yet, his parents’ wealth always gave him the affluence he deserved.
Max longed for her shoulders again. ‘Simisola’.
‘Leave me be!’ Simi cried as she brushed his hands off.
At that point, the tears she had been holding back suddenly cracked out.
‘Bro!’ Someone called from afar.
Simi knew what was about to happen: another opportunity.
‘Talk to me… I know what I saw!’ Max said, pulled her hands and spun hers, making her stare into his ruddy face
‘You saw nothing’. Simi steadied herself.
Max drew nearer. ‘You weren’t in that toilet. I called for you. Opened each cubicle. And there was no place you could have gone’.
‘I’m hungry…’ Simi looked away and murmured. ‘And I can’t do this now’.
Max turned towards the restaurant. ‘Food. See, food! Seat is… Help me understand what happened’.
Truly, the aroma of different foods jostled for preference in her cravings. Her sudden desire to eat was unwarranted since she and Max feasted a while back.
‘Not now’, Simi pleaded.
‘You entered that toilet. And disappeared. Where did you go?’ Max’s voice amplified.
Her heart sank. Quickly, her eyes dashed sporadically from one part of the room to the other. Truly, that statement caught people’s attention, and she could swear that she saw someone bringing out their phone to record.
Snatching her hand, Simi hurried away and was lucky to meet a bikeman waiting just outside. God sent, she thought.
‘Bro! You didn’t pay….’ Someone called again.
The bike rider was in his mid-twenties and had a bald that shone under the blazing sun like a stainless product, even as he brandished a big smile, unperturbed by the smug on Simi’s face.
‘Go!’ She said and mounted the bike.
‘Where?’ The bike man said. He had an American accent.
‘Just get going…’ Simi refused to look back.
‘Go! Get… Go…’
Max was torn between following her and answering the waiter bugging him for payment. Simi sighed.
‘I will call you!’ Max yelled after her.
That wasn’t her concern. Right now, she need clarification.
Before the whole fiasco began, Simi pleaded with Max for a few seconds in the toilet to apply a little make-up on her face before they left for the movie that would start soon. He told her she was beautiful, but she could never trust the words of a man trying to woo her. Since she persisted, he saw her off to the door of the toilet, to ensure she kept to her time.
There, Simi entered the toilet, powdered her face, and adjusted her jeans blouse, neck chain, and hair. Then, she closed her eyes, wishing she was alone with Ekele, a boy she once loved, watching him sleep peacefully. Ekele always made her happy.
Immediately, the loud music became a distant moan, the toilet stench changed to the coarse smell of drugs and injections, and a rickety fan swirled above. Simi opened her eyes.
There, a young Ekele laid on the bed, with a water drip hanging by his side.
‘No way!’ She muttered as she stared into the sleepy face of the young boy on the bed. She remembered that day. Not that she was near him, but she knew the circumstance that brought him to that state since that was the same cloth Ekele wore the day he convulsed, and was rushed to the hospital.
Simi glanced at everywhere in the room.
She remained transfixed for a long while, hoping that moment would be forever, that it wouldn’t be just a figment of her imagination. Taking her time, she looked him over.
I’m daydreaming, Simi thought.
After a while, she shook her head, and closed her eyes, wishing she was out of that place. When she opened her eyes, she met herself in the toilet, at the same spot she first thought of Ekele, staring at herself in the mirror. Everything about her was still real. Even the birthmark with the shape of a dumbbell remained tattooed on the bridges of her nose.
Simi inhaled sharply as the bikeman steadied itself again. He looked competent.
If she could snap her fingers and let everything stop, she would. But for now, she would stay off-grid till she comprehended what was happening. Without any warning, her bikeman picked up his pace.
‘Okada man!’ Simi yelled.
‘Sorry, young lady!’ The bike man shouted and muttered some incoherent words.
Quickly, she leaned forward. ‘Don’t kill me… And where are we going? I told you to go Ireti Ayo Avenue’.
‘Sorry, lady. We’re been followed’, the rider shouted again. This time, his foreign accent pricked her curiosity.
Simi twisted to look backward. True to the biker’s words, two black Toyota Camry tailed them. Despite the bleak view of the cars’ occupants, Simi couldn’t hold back the cold that sprinted down her spine.
‘I don’t know them o…’ She said.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 3:35pm On Jan 03|
As if those words were some sort of activation code, the cars sped up to them. Her bike rider seemed prepared. He increased his speed. Her heartbeats amplified.
‘What are you…? Ah!’ Simi grabbed his cloth for support.
The bikeman spun, holding a revolver as he yelled, ‘girl… Get down!’
She cowered behind his blue pullover, grabbing his trousers for support. At the same, a shot rang from his gun. Then, another one. Cars swerved and screeched behind. A ghastly bang followed. Simi squealed.
Her hairband sprung off, making her hair hang after them like a kite in the wind. Hurriedly, she sat straight. ‘Who are you? Who are you people? What did I do?’
‘Duck!’ The bikeman yelled again.
Even if she wanted to be stubborn, the fitful shots of guns from behind compelled her to heed him. Someone once told her that if she could hear a gunshot, then she was still alive. Her howls were drowned in the seas of shrieks that came from different places.
Immediately, her bag fell off. She cried and reached out to grab it. ‘My bag…’
‘Hold me tight!’ The bike man said and swerved off the road.
In no time, he was speeding off through a bush path. Houses sunk out of view. The vast cloudy blueness of the sky and the jarring greenness of leaves were the only things on their path. Simi could get her mind off the bag, which contained her wallet and her information.
I’m dreaming, Simi thought.
No meaningful sound came out of her mouth despite her several attempt to tell him to stop. Nonetheless, alongside the revving of the bike, she could attest that she made different sounds that would beat the incomprehensibility of animals.
Their assailants were no longer in view.
‘Drop me! Drop me!’ Simi gripped her seat tightly with sweaty hands. ‘I will jump’.
‘You will die…’ The bike rider claimed.
‘Drop me!’ She yelled.
She braced herself, ready to make a jump for it.
‘Brace up!’ The bikeman brought the bike to a halt. Simi crashed into him, her fatness vibrating, splashing pain into her bone.
‘Ouch!’ Quickly, she grabbed his cloth to steady herself. ‘Kill me, you hear!’
‘Get down…Now. Now…’ The bikeman urged.
Accelerating cars crushed their ways towards them. Simi leapt off the bike and stood still, confused on the next phase of action.
‘Why are you standing? Run… Follow me!’ The bikeman scrambled through the bushes as if they would splash hot water on him. Simi froze.
The bikeman wheeled around, glared at her coldly, and dragged her into the belly of the bush. If she had a different opinion, it was instantly wiped off by the intensifying noises from their assailants.
Leading her through several bush paths, the bikeman’s navigation skill unnerved her.
‘Who are those?’ Simi asked. ‘Who are you?’
‘Young lady… You’re in for a long time of trouble if they ever catch you’. The accent that rolled off his lips awed her.
‘What did I do?’
The bike man was muttering something repeatedly as he glanced at her and urged her on with his hand. After what felt like forever, they popped out on another side of the bush. Near a river. A fair young lady with a sleek Afro was waiting in a speedboat. If Simi was a comb, she would spend the rest of her life in that shiny hair.
‘Hurry, Eyes man!’ The young lady.
‘Dezzy, get moving!’ The bike rider shouted at the lady on Afro.
No way, Simi thought.
Snatching her hand off the bikeman’s, Simi withdrew. Silence and cold air dancing around the river were the only witnesses to know that she was being picked by the bald bike rider and the soldier-like Dezzy. ‘No…Not going anywhere. Not with you. Not without knowing what’s happening?’
The bikeman raised his hands in frustration. ‘Okay! Okay! I get! See, I’m Kukoyi Jackson and that’s Dezzy. That is Aigbodezzy Ilavari. We’re both powerful. You posted something on Nairaland…’
Simi spread her hands. ‘I’ve posted many things…’
‘Well, this particular one…In the general section. It’s about you thinking you’re mad these past few days and trying to understand why you kept seeing yourself at an event that happened before and then back to the future’.
Dezzy nodded. She swallowed hard.
The bikeman explained, ‘those men… Are there to kidnap you for that information’.
‘How do you know?’ Simi wondered and looked from one person to the other. ‘Why?’
‘Movement! Movement!’ Dezzy yelled. ‘C’mon…’
Simi glanced back into the bush that was suddenly becoming louder. Now, her odds were becoming slimmer.
‘Who’s shooting at you? Me or them?’ Kukoyi said and splashed his way into the speedboat.
Having no other option, Simi heeded them and climbed into the speedboat. The boat trembled under her weight, making Dezzy throw her an uncertain look. A short while later, when their speedboat was far from the river bank, their assailants got to the river and shot desperately at them, to no avail.
Yet, they all took cover. Simi repeatedly prayed to everything in the world as Kukoyi’s smooth hand covered her head. Dezzy outstounded Simi with her nifty maneuver of the speedboat. In no time, the river bank became smaller than a needle hole, and eventually evaporated.
She glanced at Kukoyi’s smiling face and couldn’t ascertain if they were genuine or ominous. If she had any question, she couldn’t ask there.
Shrouded in the hum of the boat, the swoosh of river as they travelled through and her own hug because of the cold, Simi inhaled the menthol-like feeling of the river and allowed her mind wander off to the many questions she needed answers to. The first being, why did her mum drop her as a baby outside an orphanage home?
‘Why did you?’ Simi said and stared into emptiness.
Afterwards, Simi brought out the only picture she had with her and stared at it. The people in the picture were a man, a woman, and herself. The man was none other than Mr Makinde, their matron. The woman was Miss Johnson, their nanny, at the orphanage home. She wished she didn’t run away from their haven, but she couldn’t live her life in their confines anymore.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 3:36pm On Jan 03|
Continuation till Tomorrow. Meanwhile, what do you feel?
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by endsarrrs(f): 3:51pm On Jan 03|
Lol. . ."you posted something on Nairaland. . . ." interesting !
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 8:18pm On Jan 03|
endsarrrs:I don't understand what you mean by this....
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by endsarrrs(f): 8:43pm On Jan 03|
Divepen1:okay. I quoted a line in the story
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Lakesc(m): 6:31am On Jan 04|
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 10:10am On Jan 04|
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 10:11am On Jan 04|
Lakesc:Thanks... I'm sure you will like the continuation.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 4:37pm On Jan 05|
By the time they got to a seashore, Simi couldn’t get another word out of her mouth. Pangs of hunger predated over her fat body, ripping off all her rationality, killing her softly, making her wish she could scoop some of the water in the river into her mouth.
‘I’m hungry’, she groaned.
She couldn’t tell them this before now because throughout the over three-hour journey, she had fruitlessly tried to get answers from Kukoyi. But the wind and the revving engine kept overshadowing her voice, making Kukoyi gesture at his ears to indicate that her words were inaudible. Simi glanced back at the river and then at the forest.
‘Follow us! When we’re safe, I will tell you all you need to know’, Kukoyi said after he noticed the doubt in her eyes. She nodded.
In the forest, they made several turns than Simi could track, never resting for a few seconds. Trees of varied sizes canopied the environment, giving room for droplets of the ray of sun, creating a theatre light effect, sparkling and bouncing off her skin intermittently. An empty dryness mixed with the freshness of the leaves made her want to be an animal.
If they weren’t in the forest to escape their pursuers, and the creepy rustles of dry leaves didn’t echo through the distant dark parts, Simi would have loved to make the wild her home.
‘This is the only path you must take… There are trip wires at various places’, Kukoyi explained. ‘Dezzy placed them at… I don’t know. Just follow this path!’
Finally, they arrived at building that lacked only painting; yet, still looked like an anomaly in a place where only nature throve. The mowed surrounding had a lonely bamboo stick and a sad punching bag hanging from it.
‘Welcome to the safe house we use’, Kukoyi said as he pushed the door open with his sweaty hand. ‘What’s your name, by the way?’
‘Simi. Simisola Owolabi…’ She replied. ‘And I’m hungry’.
When Simi entered the house, her lips fell apart because of the simple arrangement. Two old black and blue sleeping nets on the neat floor vibrated to the tunes of the breeze gliding through the two windows in the room. The only oddity was the little transparent bag beside the snacks at the other end of the room, giving the bare wall and tiled floor a different feel.
Simi’s swallowed voraciously at the sight of the snacks huddled together. Her eyes roved around them. Biscuits, sausage wraps, chocolate bars, soft drinks were artfully arranged on the left end of the house. What the house lacked in curtains, it got in the windows nets.
Dezzy, with a hunting knife poking out of her belt, clambered to the snacks, picked two wraps of gala sausage and a bottle of so ft drink, and dumped them in Simi’s hands. Dezzy and Kukoyi climbed the black and blue sleeping nets respectively.
‘Yours!’ Dezzy said and pointed at the third net still wrapped, new and inviting.
Simi’s curiosity must have been vivid because Kukoyi shrugged. ‘Yes! We kept that for you’.
Hunger took a toll on Simi that she instantly ate gluttonously, only pausing to drink, disregarding the quizzical look mutilating Dezzy’s face. Afterwards, Simi popped the net, set it opposite the two strangers’ nets, and sat, ready to ask questions.
‘Tell me what’s happening’, Simi said.
‘Yeah! You’re welcome’, Kukoyi said and yawned. ‘We didn’t mean to save your life’.
‘What are you expecting?’ Simi frowned. ‘Thank you?’
‘You’re welcome’. Kukoyi yawned again.
Simi rolled her eyes. ‘Tell me what’s happening?’
‘See, Simi...’ Kukoyi said. ‘Around 1270, a Yoruba god, Oranmiyan had a vision that someone would try to outsmart the gods and fuse their powers for selfish gain. This secret was taught to only a secret group. And they, in turn, passed it down to different generations. One of these groups eventually felt the secret should be divided among the seven members of the cult. That way, one of them will handle each part of the information’.
‘I don’t understand you, one bit!’ Simi yawned.
Kukoyi edged forward. ‘You will, Simi. Follow me. Oranmiyan collected the original powers of certain gods and hid them at separate times for people to find!’
‘What do you mean by original power?’ Simi glanced at Dezzy scratching her nose compulsively.
‘Oranmiyan created a replica of the power symbols of these gods and changed them. Take erm… Sango’s axe as an example’.
‘Think Lambe mentioned Yemoja’s beads too!’ Dezzy added.
‘Yes…And Yemoja’s bead! Those…’
Simi raised her hands. ‘Wait. Wait! Who’s Lambe?’
‘When we get to that bridge, we will cross it!’ Kukoyi explained and paused. ‘So, Oranmiyan took these symbols. Sango’s axe. Yemoja’s beads and the rest. He took these original items and replaced them with ones that would work for the lifetime of these gods but can’t be used by any other person’.
‘Ha! Can you skip to the end already?’ Simi rolled her eyes and yawned.
‘You need this!’ Dezzy said as she gingerly picked the skin around her fingernails as if they were infested by ants.
Simi threw her a frustrated glance.
Kukoyi continued. ‘Oranmiyan made the initiates swear to never use the information for personal gain but must always be prepared for three people that have been assigned the duty of destroying these powerful item…’
‘How will they find these three people?’ Simi asked.
‘They will know!’ Kukoyi said. ‘They are all descendant of Oranmiyan. And they will bear the marks that only the initiates will understand. Oranmiyan made it in such a way that only a set of the treasure will be unlocked per century’.
Simi glowered. ‘That is every hundred year’.
‘Yes. So, Oranmiyan divided the powers into three and placed them on 21 artefacts. Three per generation’. Again, Kukoyi paused. ‘The chosen people couldn’t act on these because civilization came and the artefacts were stolen, among the many sculptures stolen in Nigeria’.
‘I don’t…get. How’s that my concern?’ Simi wondered aloud.
‘It’s your concern. It’s definitely your concern because that must have been how your power became activated. I touched mine in America, and I sensed immediately that I had to come to Nigeria’.
Dezzy’s drowsy eyes called Simi’s attention for the first time.
This time, Simi looked her over, surprised that she didn’t notice the tribal marks hanging from both sides of Dezzy’s face, as well as on her chin, with all three looking like lines on a robot. A tattoo stood out on Dezzy’s right cheek, just adjacent the birthmark on her neck, all giving off the perfect shape of an android face.
Seeing the birthmark made Simi glance at Kukoyi. His own birthmark was conspicuously crawling into view from the back of his neck.
Dezzy saw the movement of her eyes and swallowed. ‘Yes. We all have those scars…’
Kukoyi glanced at them quizzically. ‘The powerful people are three. But the major one is the ability to visit the past… and future- You’.
The implication of his words dawned on her. ‘But I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to visit the future or the past. I don’t even have the power!’
‘Do you even know how you got this power?’ Kukoyi said. ‘That will help us know what to do here!’
‘Visited any artefacts of late or something?’ Dezzy rolled her eyes.
Simi shrugged and rolled her eyes in return. ‘I don’t know. Two days ago, I visited that new museum in Black Town, Fortune City’.
‘What’s Fortune City?’ Kukoyi asked.
‘This private Island’, Dezzy said. ‘Been in the news for some weird events’.
‘Oh!’ Kukoyi blinked. ‘So, this place is a private Island. Nigeria’s becoming better’.
Simi continued. ‘Max said he wanted to do valentine week or something like that for me’.
Kukoyi tilted his head sideways. ‘Well, we got the other two power. As I told you, I got mine in the States. She got hers…Um…’
‘Onikan Stadium’, Dezzy said.
‘Onikan stadium, yes. I got the ability to seek things out…I know where I can find different things but can’t see these treasures unless you take us there. And Dezzy…’ Kukoyi and opened his palms, confused. ‘There… I don’t know how to explain it’.
Dezzy sat up. ‘Can weaken people, build tunnels, escape. I’m always eager to fight…’
Kukoyi nodded. ‘Yeah! She’s more like a perfect warrior’.
Simi stared at them as if they were speaking an alien language.
‘Don’t worry. It will take you a while to understand but let’s keep you safe’, Kukoyi said and yawned.
‘Why do they…those people that were shooting… Why do they want me?’ Simi asked.
Dezzy said. ‘Power, fatty. You have the power!’
Simi shook her head. With her eyes darting about rapidly, Dezzy went about inspecting the different parts of the safe house. She stopped at the centre of the room and traced her hands around the edge of a circle that Simi was seeing for the first time.
‘Why now?’ Simi asked.
‘Because you posted it online. Just like them, we’ve been searching for you, because they can use one of us to trace the others’.
‘Energy trails… Their physicist can trace the lines of our energies. Every day, I also search for you with my power. I discovered you this morning.’.
Simi swallowed hard as she inhaled shaky breaths in realization of what was happening to her. ‘That… Does that mean we’re together?’
‘Biggy, we’ve got to stick together now. Live in the shadows…’ Dezzy said.
‘But…My family?’ Simi looked about, trying hard to hide her truth. Quickly, she brought out the picture and pointed it at them. ‘I need to contact them!’
‘Simi, you’re a ghost now….’ Kukoyi said. ‘At least, for now! You can’t reach out’.
Simi climbed out of her net, opened her mouth to argue, and kept quiet. Her curiosity still nagged at her. ‘And why did they need us? I mean those men!’
‘Oranmiyan placed the treasures at various times. Future, past, and present. We were supposed to be the last set…’ Kukoyi replied.
Simi’s eyes shone. ‘That means we can know where everything is’.
‘Fast learner’, Dezzy said with a smirk.
‘So, we have to remain hidden’, Kukoyi said.
‘And the Lambe you mentioned the other time!’ Simi said.
Kukoyi glanced sideways. ‘He’s…’
‘Supposed to die’, Dezzy hissed.
‘He is a descendant of the original secret groups and he knows a lot’, Kukoyi said. ‘But trust me, Simi, you don’t want to have him around. He wants something else’.
‘He wants us to find the powers…’ Kukoyi said. ‘He thinks we can save the world or stop those people that are trying to use our power to get the hidden powers’.
‘Who has time for that?’ Dezzy said.
‘Then, what are we doing?’ Simi asked. ‘Are we not like supposed to make sure the evil they are talking about…do not happen. We can make sure the person that wants to steal this power doesn’t do that again!’
‘Which power? Which world or Nigeria?’. Kukoyi’s voice pitched higher this time. ‘Have you not lived here all your life? Do you think saving the powers of the gods is worth anything to us? We’ll be heroes and then what? Die… Like nobody. Die’.
‘It’s better than nothing o’, Simi said and glanced at them. ‘We got our power for a reason’.
‘Not this. Going with Eagle’s plan here’, Dezzy said and crossed her arms. ‘Let’s make the money and be gone’.
Simi let the details sink in as she stared into their eyes.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Lakesc(m): 6:58pm On Jan 05|
This is becoming more interesting... Fire on Sir!
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 11:34pm On Jan 06|
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by germaphobe(m): 12:20am On Jan 12|
got to know about this beautiful work this night, too bad you haven't updated in a while hope you're ok. looking forward to seeing an update soon.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 2:04pm On Jan 12|
germaphobe:Thanks I'm editing on the go. It requires more sacrifice that writing the stuff.
I'll surely post something today.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 7:56pm On Jan 12|
Simisola felt uneasy sitting in the same spot. Opposite her were Aigbodezzy and Kukoyi, crouched and standing respectively, waiting for her to disappear. Every day of the past two weeks, twice per day, they’ve set Simi in this same position, trying unsuccessfully to make her disappear, their eyes trained on her with the same efficacy of a sniper.
‘You sure she’s the one?’ Dezzy grumbled.
Simi opened her eyes. ‘Ah! Maybe you’re right’.
‘I don’t believe that’, Kukoyi said.
‘This is an uphill task, not easy’, Simi said and sighed.
Kukoyi chew his nails, glanced at Dezzy, back at Simi. ‘Or she’s not trying enough?’
‘I’m trying’, Simi replied, still rattled. ‘Why did you think I remain seated like fool?’
As she sat there, she wanted to avoid the fight that had happened between them over their choice of the use of the gold. While Simi felt they should support Lambe and the initiates, the duo prefer to work in silence. She only stayed back to destroy the items on her own, which they didn’t disagree to.
At the moment, there was an edge of frustration in Kukoyi’s voice as he replied. ‘I think your mind is somewhere else, at home. I have family, too’.
Simi was perplexed.
‘That’s nonsense…’ She exclaimed, truly frustrated. ‘Why then did I remain here? Why haven’t I gone away?’
‘Simi, you’re just one conflicted… Your mind is here and not here at the same time, probably looking for a way to run away and that’s why your mind is not focused. You’ll have to keep it together. Time’s running out’, Kukoyi urged.
Simi gritted. ‘Ah! I’m trying. You don’t know how hard it is. But you won’t understand because you’ve been here training for months before you found me… Am I lying?’
‘Of course, you lie. I could use my power in a week, darling’, Dezzy said.
‘A week?’ Simi repeated, surprised.
‘That’s right. A week. Imagine that. Like butter in the frying pan’, Dezzy said as she chewed her lips.
Simi’s frustration at their lack of understanding was dashed. ‘You mean I…You look serious. I don’t know what’s wrong’.
Kukoyi dropped the pad he was holding. Simi remembered the arguments they had for days on why she shouldn’t have access to a tablet. Dezzy supported Kukoyi’s refusal by claiming she never got access to a tab too until the third month. None of them could contact anyone they knew.
Kukoyi rose, moved towards where Simi was seated, and crouched in front of her. ‘You’re probably not going about this the right way. How did the last ones happen?’
‘I don’t…’ Words dried up in Simi’s throat. How could she describe what happened that day to them? ‘I noticed that Max wanted to ask me be his girlfriend. He has done several things to prepare me for that. So, when I got to the toilet, I thought of him… Ekele. The first boy I liked. I was thinking of him… We never got to say goodbye. I…’
Kukoyi clapped. ‘That’s it, then. Maybe you should channel your fear into this new reality, but we need it soon. Can you remember what time you were taken to?’.
Simi wanted to scream at them, run from the room, and never remember that incidence at the toilet. Why was that time blurry?
‘I will give it a try’, she sighed. ‘It’s a painful time’.
‘The last time you saw him is fine. You might not remember what you saw then but you must be aware this time’, Kukoyi’s voice was becoming dangerously leveled. ‘We can’t sit here like we’ve been doing for years before your arrival. I’ve lost a hell lot of things and wouldn’t want to lose more’.
She closed her eyes. ‘I hope it’s not horrible’.
Suddenly, rustles of leaves became different, near. Chirps of birds and hoots of owls mixed with sneaky feet on dry leaves.
‘That way!’ A lady yelled.
Simi opened her eyes, surprised at the change of scene. Her heartbeats burst through her nose like fiery darts. Every hair in her body rose just as her head expanded and contracted ten thousand times in one second.
‘We must do this now! We must get back home before anybody stops us…’A man said.
‘Hold on’, the first woman hushed. ‘I hear something…’
This time, Simi realized where she was. Her legs were hanging from the thick trunk of a tree, even as ants crawled by her arm. With the dawn, stars, and fading moon still blanketing the sky, the leaves below shone with power of the dews highlighting them.
‘I don’t think it’s anything…’ The woman leading them said.
‘Are you sure the leaders will be pleased with this, Moremi?’ Someone else asked. The woman leading them turned. Simi swallowed hard as she beheld the beauty of the woman, whose story had been repeatedly narrated in different ways.
‘Let’s go…’ Moremi called.
For the first time, she was seeing the face of the legend whose name was written on so many things. Even if she didn’t know her full story, she read that she sacrificed herself to know the secret of those that came to carry her.
‘Let’s go, Isimo’, Moremi said. ‘We’ve to be out of here before the next cockcrow…When we get home to Oranmiyan, we will prepare for these bushmen’.
Holding firmly to the tree, Simi deduced that Moremi had just escaped from the warriors with the raffia and that could mean they would soon pass through that place.
Quickly, she closed her eyes because her body led her heart in a vibrating competition. It was better to run from mere men with guns than warriors. The angry face of Dezzy came to her mind, and she remembered how she couldn’t get herself to disappear.
‘She’s back!’ Dezzy called.
‘You weren’t out for that long’, Kukoyi said as he hurried back. ‘Three minutes’
‘I feel so hungry…’ Simi said.
‘Snacks’, Dezzy said.
Kukoyi hurried, snatched two wraps of gala, and returned with them, urgency in his eyes. ‘Did you return to that time again?’
‘No’, Simi answered. The hunger was such she had never experienced before. ‘I got to a tree... And I saw Moremi, running off’.
‘Oh! Sit down, Simi’, Kukoyi said. ‘Then, you tell us everything you remember’.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Lakesc(m): 9:57pm On Jan 12|
Wow! Lovely update Op...
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 5:03am On Jan 13|
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 10:14am On Jan 13|
Munching as if the sausage role were on fire, Simi narrated how she’d met herself in a tree to find Moremi. They listened with rapt attention.
‘How did you return to us?’ Kukoyi asked, who was typing into his tab.
Simi swallowed hard. ‘I.... Maybe when I remembered Moremi story that the Igbo soldiers would soon get where I was, and… Dezzy’s… that I preferred this place than to face those hefty soldiers’.
Dezzy reached for her iPad.
‘I think we’re getting somewhere’, Kukoyi said. ‘But that must be a dark time. I mean there wouldn’t be any form of civilization those time’.
‘I think so…’ Dezzy said and typed sporadically into her phone. ‘From Wiki, Moremi was born in 1200AD. Long distance from our first sight of civilization. Erm…Oranyan’s wife. Another site said she was Oranyan’s wife’.
Kukoyi got up and paced the room. He turned swiftly towards Simi. ‘Maybe, Simi… And just maybe, Oranmiyan has something in hiding for you there?’ Kukoyi suggested. ‘Like a clue’.
‘A clue? There?’ Simi shook her head.
‘We don’t know the history, even those that feel they know. It started as a rumor. The initiates are really tightfisted about the information’. Kukoyi paused. ‘This information spread down to different periods with more details than anyone can verify’.
Simi made a ‘tsk’ sound. ‘What are you saying now?’
‘What…?’ Kukoyi stared at her. ‘Of course, I’m saying there’s something. Like. Like. Like. Like a clue. Something to hold on to’.
‘Sure, she should go again’, Dezzy cut in and rose. ‘You need to train your skills now’.
‘I should return to search for information. I can do that’, Simi replied. Immediately, the image of the Igbos in raffia popped into her head. She shook her head. ‘I can definitely not do that’.
‘Let’s just get this over with’, Dezzy said.
‘But you…’ Simi stared into her eyes. Her cold feet weren’t as a result of her fear. It was probably because she didn’t know the world she had just left. ‘I will need something to defend myself with in case of anything’.
‘Sounds perfect’, Dezzy replied and pulled a knife from her boot. Kukoyi stared at her with wide eyes. Dezzy rolled her eyes, met Simi halfway, and slapped the knife’s handle into Simi’s palm. It was wrapped with black rubbers for firmer grip.
‘Let’s do this again’, Simi agreed.
Dezzy placed her hands on Simi’s knee. ‘You can do this. Need to monitor time. Kukoyi, do the same’.
Kukoyi nodded as Simi closed her eyes and wished to be with Moremi, ready to disappear.
‘She came back thirty-two minutes ago…’ Dezzy said. ‘Let’s see how long you will be gone this time?’
A big fear clouded Simi’s mind as she got ready for the next thing to happen. Something swiped past her face, making her open her eyes. Like before, she was in a tree.
Clinging to it as if her life depended on it, she looked around and saw an archer shoot sporadically at different directions. Ready to shoot again, he saw Simi, frowned, and aimed at her.
Simi yelled. Without a second thought, she stumbled off the tree. The grass cushioned her fall.
‘Where am I?’ She murmured.
People ran in different directions, with weapons raised and sweat covering their bodies. She didn’t need anyone to tell her what that meant. Wet dry leaves with their stinky smell covered her.
‘Kill them!’ A young man shouted. His regal look made her wish she were born at that period because it would have been fun to talk to such man, stare at or listen to him.
Their yells of instructions were all in Yoruba language, with some words she had never heard from anyone.
‘All of you… Go…’The young man said.
‘Yes, my king’, a warrior said.
His black glinting body, marked at different points with charcoal and mud, made him wild. A thread of charms dangled around his waist. Even his arms were laced with the skins of a snake.
Simi remained rooted in her position. It felt like the only place she could remain without fear. When she should be looking for clues, she was hiding in the bush.
The moment everyone was gone, the young man looked about and buried a knife into the ground. Like a machine, his hand furiously dug through the ground.
‘King Oranmiyan’, a female voice called from afar.
‘Queen’, the young king, Oranmiyan, replied. With his face lit with excitement, he turned towards the voice. At that point, Moremi came into view, panting and expectant.
‘What became of the knife?’ Moremi asked.
‘I hurriedly sent it to the future… For the last set of people…’ Oranmiyan said.
‘We need it here?’ Moremi said, with pleading eyes.
Oranmiyan shook his head, touched her cheek, and smiled. ‘We’ve won. You helped us and nobody can ever forget that. What we have left here is us taking care of the rest of their lives. My dreams are more than real’.
Moremi glanced about and stared at him. ‘Are you even sure they will see this knife?’
‘This knife is Oduduwa’s… This is the one I changed for him. I want the last ones to have this. That’s why I let the power remain on it…’
At the same time, sprinting feet became louder.
‘My lord’, the leader of the warriors shouted and came into view. ‘We got another one. He’s ready to talk for his life’.
‘Let’s go!’ Oranmiyan said and was soon running off. He glanced back at the place he planted the knife, then at Simi’s hideout, smiled, and ran off.
Simi gasped. She wanted to race after them but remembered why was sent back there. After ensuring she was alone, she crawled over to the spot and dug as fast as she could. The knife laid there. It was a replica of Dezzy’s knife. Simi grabbed it.
Dezzy would be surprised by this, Simi wondered and closed her eyes, hoping she got it right again.
‘She’s back again’, Dezzy shouted. ‘Oh! God! And dirty…’
Simi was astounded. ‘Oh! I’m never going in alone…’
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by germaphobe(m): 11:09am On Jan 13|
wow!!, i'm loving this. can't wait to see what powers the other two possess
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 7:08am On Jan 14|
Glad to see you love it. Well, their power will be revealed soon.
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Lakesc(m): 8:05pm On Jan 14|
Thanks for the update...
|Re: Simisola And Oranmiyan's Treasures by Divepen1(m): 7:29pm On Jan 15|
You're welcome. Thanks for dropping a comment.
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