‘I thought you’d have learnt your lesson by now, Omotola. For how long will I tell you not to go to the stream before the cock crows?’
‘But Maami, I needed to wash my clothes for the cultural… ‘
‘*Gbenu e dake! Cultural this and cultural that! Every time, you’re always involved in one cultural hullabaloo or the other. Are you the only girl in the village nii?’
Omotola smiled winningly and knelt, making sure her two knees touched the floor properly.
‘I’m sorry mother, I promise not to do this anymore.’
Her mother gave her ‘the look’, clearly not believing her for a second.
‘Just leave my presence, *Omo Alaigboron!’
Omotola grinned mischievously and ran out the door to join the remaining girls playing on the clouds…
Yeah, you heard right. Clouds. I suppose I forgot to mention that Omotola is a goddess and so is her mother and everyone in this story. Well…almost everyone…gods need their mortals every now and then.
This story is set in a different universe from ours but on the same parrallel dimension. I don’t really understand it, Omolola can explain better. Gods live in the sky and walk on the clouds like solid ground. They appear like normal people except for their incredible height, extreme beauty or handsomeness as the case may be and their blue blood. Oh! …and their awesome powers. Each God could do anything except kill each other. It went against their very nature. They were a peaceful sort. Until…
‘Omotola that’s not fair na’, complained Arike, ‘the rules said to strike at the heart, not the head’, She said, pointing at the ruined *Sigidi.
‘By the gods Ari, I didn’t strike the top’, She whisphered, lightning still dancing on her fingers from the pre-emptive strike, ‘I went for the heart, I swear’, She said frantically, her dark eyes wide in consternation. It provided a glaring contrast with her pure white hair, a gift from her mother at the time of her creation.
Arike’s eyes widened in fear as she looked at Omotola as if waiting for her to combust. A Sigidi could not be harmed unless struck from the head. Striking at the heart just made it more powerful but basically harmless. It was IMPOSSIBLE to have been destroyed by a hit to the heart. On the other hand , Omotola SWORE she did not strike the head and a god could not swear falsely. It will disintegrate them.
‘Then what could have happened?’ asked Amaka, the third goddess in their trio of mischief.
Before they could figure out anything, they looked down to see inky blackness beginning to contaminate the sky at their feet, moving steadily towards them and spreading towards the village. Instinctively they knew if the inky blackness touched them, it would consume them. The 5 year old toddlers ran as fast as their day old feet could take them towards their huts.
Her mother and father grabbed her and constructed a cocoon of fire and air for her and dropped her in. The inky blackness was already in the house and was coming towards them. Her father and mother faced it and started hurling their power against it. It just kept swallowing each burst of power till it began to consume them. Omotola cried and beat at the cocoon, her parents scream resounding in her ears.
Far below, a farmer and his wife watched the skies as the stars of heaven, the gods of the skies fell to earth blazing with a fiery light.
Meaning of Yoruba words used in the story:
*Gbenu e dake! – Shut your mouth/Keep quiet.
*Omo Alaigboran – Child who refuses to listen to advice.
*Sigidi – A traditional doll full of immense power.
Awolesi Gideon is just like you, except a better version. He writes all day and writes some more at night. A student of the university of ibadan, he is an established blogger with a few blogs where he just… Writes. Paranormal writing is my forte. You can reach me on Facebook @ Awolesi Gideon Zurishadai or just like my Facebook page @ Qhidi Phantom Nova. You can check my blog @ hawnsgist.blogspot.com and crazyghidi.blogspot.com. Drop your comments; they are welcome!