Christabel Morrison

The Dancers Sword Episode 3

Three days had gone by, and there was no trace of Ola’s body anywhere around the village. The villagers had come to the conclusion that Ola was blown away by the wind, but Mazi Ibe refused to accept that.
‘Mazi Ibe’ Igwe Uzodinma called his attention. The elders had gathered for their weekly council meeting, and the king had decided to use the opportunity to intervene, since Mazi Ibe had turned down the opinion of the elders who encouraged him to make preparations for his daughter’s burial.
‘Igwe.’ Mazi replied.
‘I cannot say I know how you feel right now, but I know you must be going through a lot of pain. Losing a child is a dreadful experience, and Ola happened to be a really special child. But as it is Mazi, a terrible fate has befallen our land. Our most beautiful flower has dried out in the rain, and we cannot deny the facts before us. As it is customary, the three days of waiting has elapsed, and a burial has to be conducted.”
“Igwe… May your days on the throne be long and prosperous,” Mazi Ibe said, getting on his feet.
“Ise…,” the other elders chorused.
“Igwe, my Ola is not dead. I don’t believe my Ola is dead and if she is, then give me time to find her body and bury her. At least I will know where she is. Can you imagine what my life will be like, waking up every morning and wondering, where is Ola today? Has she eaten? Is she trying to find her way back home? Or has she been eaten up by a wild beast in the forest? I can’t spend the rest of my life like that, Igwe, I will lose my mind.”
“It’s a terrible situation, Mazi, but we can’t break the custom. I have sent a message to Dibịa Nze Mmadu, he will be here by sunset tomorrow to perform the rituals of her burial. That will be all for now,” the king said, dismissing his cabinet.
Mazi Ibe walked back home with Mazi Ignatius by his right and Mazi Okosisi by his left. He didn’t hear a word of all they had been saying; his mind raced all over seeking answers that didn’t seem forthcoming. He could hardly believe that a burial would be organized for Ola the next day. He found it hard to take it in; he didn’t know how to relate this information to his wife.
“Mazi Ibe,” Mazi Okosisi called for the fourth time.
“Okosizi, you called me.”
“Yes, for the fourth time now. Listen, Mazi Ibe, I know this is a horrible experience. I mean, what could be worse than a father burying his own child?”
“Aru!” Mazi Ignatius swore. “But you need to prepare your mind for what must happen tomorrow,” Mazi Okosisi concluded.
“Thank you, Mazi Okosisi, but I have to leave you two now. I hope you don’t mind?”
“No, it’s alright,” Mazi Okosisi replied. Mazi Ibe shook hands with his colleagues and walked ahead of them.

LITOTENE PRT1

They threw her to the street, watch what happens afterwards