WHO IS LIKE ANYANYU

Okunmiri gazed out the window; he didn't have another second to spare. Time was running out, and the leopard's blood had already dried up. He sighed and looked around again. Where Agu had gone, he had no idea all he knew was they had to dump this body before the authorities found out. These villagers were ruthlessly vocal. He never conceived it would come to this.

Outside, he heard their persistent chants. They drew closer to him with every second he spent breathing, not acting. They were going to hurt him, kill him, perhaps. What had he done? Why had he listened to Agu? In his mind, he calculated. If he ran at this moment, could he sneak by the angry villagers with blazoning fire-torches and hide in the bushes till sundown? Not if Nkoli was amongst them, with her eyes like those of the peregrine falcon. They would find the body of the ancient Anywanwu leopard in the hut with him, and that would be it. The walls of the hut seemed to close in on him. He calculated again. If the stench of the leopard's blood won't betray him, could he hide its body underneath the bamboo sticks? The fragility in his last thought reminded him of Agu, cunny, half-blind Agu, who walked like his knees were long lost lovers. Was his voice that compelling?

Agu was the son of Nnadozie, the only native who had so forsaken the ways of their ancestors that he not only began worshipping the god of the onyibos, but had been ordained a priest. The villagers would say that Anywanwu caught up with him, and that's why he struck his first and only child with partial blindness. Okummiri would meet Agu on the church's compounds, scribbling on the sands, two years after his father and mother died mysteriously, in their sleep. He would become ominous folklore, and Agu would be his only friend. Agu would always talk about the malevolence of the gods the villagers worshipped. He would spit and scorn and slice a piece of the air and fist it, saying, "The time will come when it will be no more."

Okummiri did not understand a thing he said. He was quiet, naïve, and so was Agu. Or so he thought. Two nights ago, they sat under the full moon beside Father Nnadozie's hut, their bottoms rested on healthy palm fronds, and they plotted. Well, Agu plotted. Okummiri listened and smiled, nodding, befuddled at the intelligence of the partially blind boy and the insane scheme that spewed from his chapped lips.

"This is the Ndimmiri clan." He drew a small circle on the sands. Then, he drew a line protruding from the circle. "This is the path we shall take so that no one will sight us from a distance. You see, the thickness of the forests which they banished my father will finally come in handy." Agu looked at Okummiri's lost face and asked, "Nwannem, inugo?"

That's where he lie-nodded. He hadn't heard a thing.

"Tell me what the first step is, then."

Okummiri kept mum, so Agu shook his head, slapped his shoulder and started from the beginning. "The plan is to wake up long before the first crow of the cockerel, so we sneak into the village and kill the Anywanwu leopard."

Okummiri's eyes shone with fear. "O gini?"

"Don't ask me like you've not been hearing. We have been praying to Jehovah for this. To open the villagers' eyes to see beyond the leopard, which is merely a large cat. An animal which will age and die."

Agu leaned closer to him because the fear seemed to linger. "Do you think that is the same leopard our ancestors worshipped three hundred years ago? Mba nu! Queen Nkoli and all the queens before her have leopards groomed in the fields of the neighbouring villages, so when one gets old, they have a replacement. The time has come for this lie to be no more."

Okummiri smiled, basking in this bountiful wisdom Agu had bathed him in. They journeyed as planned. Agu had made the leopard drowsy and strapped it to his back. The mistake they seemed to have made was to halt by the deserted hut of Okummiri's dead parents for his father's brazened sword. Okummiri had sliced, whilst Agu had gone in search of leaves or a calabash. They would cut the animal in pieces before they buried it.

Now, Okummiri's heart raced. The villagers approached. The stench of the leopard's blood wafted in the air. Agu was nowhere to be found. Okummiri stared at the leopard's body once more. He breathed in, shut his eyes and smiled. Then he gazed out the window and screamed. The villagers would rush in, see their Anywanwu lifeless, and their belief in its immortality would vanish. He fell to his knees, and the fake tears gushed out like the Oyigi Waterfalls.

Enyinna Nnabuihe.

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