OLD MAMAS TALES

A Collection of Atte Folklores By Hellene O. Alabi

STORIES The Stubborn Bride The Impossible Mission Teterube

FORWARD

My first child, Eshiofe was born on the twenty-ninth of February; as if the day was not special enough, it was the day the call came in, one of those bright and sunny days. I remembered the sunny-ness of the day because I was working on the flower-bed behind my kitchen. I had been on maternity leave for exactly ten days and I was slowly losing my mind. Lacking anything to do, since my darling husband Fred had employed a cook, a laundry man and a housekeeper, I resorted to gardening. I was pulling out the weeds between my rose bushes, while the sun warmed my shoulders from the spaghetti strapped flowing dress I wore, when my mobile phone started to ring inside the kitchen. I laboriously got to my swollen feet and waddled towards the sound. I was trying to get to it before it stopped ringing because my husband was always teasing me about how I keep forgetting that mobile phone could be moved around instead of been in motion to reach them when they were ringing.

I just barely made it and depressed the green button, Yello I said triumphantly into the phone a little breathlessly, expecting to hear Freds voice, he always called by this time to see how I was doing, I heard my mothers weeping voice instead, Old mama just passed she managed to say before she started crying again and I muttered something and absently ended the call. Old mama was my fathers mother, one of those rare, wise and extremely colorful people, the type that should be celebrated but pass through life been ignored, because they were not the first person to fly a plane in their country or do something that mundanely extraordinary, who were not termed important simply because they didnt hobnob in the right circles. I managed to sit down heavily on the slopey basket chair leaning on the wall outside the kitchen door as sadness enveloped me, I had been planning for weeks to visit her in the outskirts of Lagos where she had settled down in, but my condition had dictated otherwise. A slice of memory of the last time I had seen her flashed through my mind, she had visited me here, when I just got married, her small sparkly eyes taking in the elegant living room. Then she had turned to me and smiled, her whole face wrinkling like paper in the process, her freckles disappearing between sliver folds of soft, pale skin, Your husband owns all this? she asked. I smiled and nodded, I was a bit overwhelmed by my surrounding myself, so you married him for his money? she asked again quietly. No old mama, I didnt know he was this rich, we moved here after our engagement, I married for love, like you I added with a smile. She smiled and shook her head slowly, Then I pray you live life full, like me too she said sagely, I was slightly puzzled, it sounded like a Chinese adage, Yes, full but youre hardly done yet, abi? I asked as I took her birdlike hands into mine, she smiled again and said nothing. Fred entered at that point and I forgot all about it until now. I wiped the tears that trickled down my face as I speed-dialed Freds line. It started to ring, Im on my way! he said excitedly into the phone, No, its not that I replied, he thought I was calling to tell him my water has broken, Oh, whats up babe? he asked instead, losing steam. I sniffed, Old mama has passed I said to him, why did I say it like that? I wondered as I listened to his platitudes of God gives, God takes away, why didnt I say has died? as I sat pondering I felt wetness between my legs, You may still have to come I said as calmly as I could into the phone, Babe, you know I have a series of meetings immediately after the presentation, do you think you could wait till then? he asked, I nodded as I felt the first pangs of labor, I could I said into the phone, teeth grounded to stop myself from screaming, But Im not sure your baby will wait that long He was home in ten minutes and I had my baby girl four hours later. She was an albino, just like old mama. * When I was four years old, my parents decided that living in Lagos was robbing us of our identity and ethnicity, especially when one day, my immediate elder sister came back from school and told my father that during the social studies class, she had been called to say something about her hometown and she had replied that she was from Apapa, which had caused an racket from other pupils. The teacher had advised her to ask her parents where they were

really from, so we were bundled into a commercial bus that my father rented from one of his friends and had taken the day-long arduous journey from Lagos to the then Bendel state back to our village. The plan was simple; we were told by our military-strict father that we either learn all we could about our village and especially how to speak in our native tongue in one year, or we will never return to the only home we knew in Lagos. Dismayed and sad about losing our friends we all promised him that in a years time we will be fully equipped with the proper cultural dogmas and so fluent in our native tongue that he himself will beg us to speak English. He nodded satisfied with our responses and returned to his station in Lagos, leaving us and our young, angry mother behind in his widowed mothers cracky hut. We stared at everything through young, disbelieving eyes. We were unprepared for most of the food that were placed ever so hastily before us by our crossed-eyed aunt Asabi, who couldnt speak a word of English. Living in the village felt like we had been uprooted from life as we knew it and thrown downward and backwards through time into an African folklore. The first thing after we had forced ourselves to swallow the goopy gruel that passed as ogi there, was that we discovered there was no electricity or signs of it ever being there and playtime actually started long after the sun has set and the moon was out. And what passed as fun was story telling by an old adult. The stories varied between adventures and sad love lore, depending on the story teller. My grandmother, whom we came to refer to, simply as old mama, was an excellent love story teller. That first night, right after my mother had bathed us with fresh water from the stream behind my grandmothers hut whose fish were not eaten for some mysterious myth, we gathered in front of the narrow hut and sat on mats that my mother had insisted on spreading on the cold, sandy-white ground. Most of the other villagers simply sat on bare ground, not minding their already dirty, tatty clothes. We all turned our small expectant faces upward towards old mama who was lighting a locally made cigarette perched like a lady on one of the low stools she had all over the hut. Under a million stars and half of a waning moon, with bulrush lamps that blew thick, fragrant smoke around in the gentle night wind, she inhaled deeply and let the smoke drift out of her nostrils, then sighing contentedly as her sparkly eyes took on a dreamy, faraway cast, she started the magical, but sad love story of Omugha.

The Stubborn Bride Once upon a time, in a village that was imbedded in the roughly circuitous seven hills which were called the kukuruku hills, was the village of Atte. The people of Atte were the envy of other villages outside the hills. Not only were they protected from wars by the great spirits of the kukuruku hills, the land was rich with gemstones and vegetation. It was not unusual in Atte to see the womens wrappers heavily decorated with large uncut stones of different colors, the rarest stones, were the ones that came out of the earth completely red, as if the gods themselves had soaked the stones in blood of their preys. They ended up using these stones as currency. The Ogie-awa of Atte was a powerful man; he had thousands of livestock and almost eighteen bags full of the red stones. He had three wives, the first and second had daughters while the youngest one was barren. This was the only shadow in the Ogie-awas almost perfect existence.

Every night as he lay down to sleep, he agonized over what will become of his wonderful village, if the gods decided to call him home that night. One day, a stranger came to buy some metal work from the famous Atte market, but the blacksmith accused him of trying to steal, which was a grievous crime in the land. He was taken to the palace of Ogie-awa and as he sat presiding over the matter, he realized that the blacksmith was falsely accusing the stranger and he acquitted the stranger and had the blacksmith jailed for trying to swindle a stranger of his money. The stranger thanked the kind and wise Ogie-awa and invited him to his village, which was three days journey away. The Ogieawa accepted the invitation when he found out that the stranger in question was actually the prince of his land. One full moon later, the Ogie-awa embarked on his journey to the other village. He left his trusted chiefs in charge. The journey took longer than three days because the scouts were required to check out every leg of the journey, before they took it, finally, after seven days on the road, they entered into the village and were promptly directed to the palace of their chief. The prince was waiting with a welcome party. That night, the young, unmarried maidens of the village danced in front of the Ogie-awa under a canopy of stars and indigo skies. As he watched the dancing maidens through the huge bonfire, he noticed one of the fair maidens whose voice rang out like a clear call of the morning birds. The Ogie-awa immediately asked the prince who she was. Smiling he told him she was the first daughter of one of their soldiers, he had only two daughters, and they were the most beautiful girls in the village. The Ogie-awa nodded and inquired how he could meet the soldier so he could ask for his daughters hand in marriage. The prince after laughing for a long time, told him not to bother, it was their custom to marry one of the unmarried maidens to any visiting dignitary. Overjoyed, the Ogie-awa told him he chose the young maiden. The prince beckoned to one of the messengers that stood before him and whispered into his ear. The large, benign-looking man that was a eunuch nodded and moved fluidly towards the teeming throng of gaily dressed dancing maidens and whispered into the ears of the maiden that was favored by Ogi-awa. She listened for a moment, smiled and nodded her head, then she turned to another girl that was smaller but looked like her and whispered into her ear. They hugged each other and broke away from the group and ran home to tell the news of her sudden elevation to her parents.

Three days later, Ogi-awa prepared to depart, as gifts were presented, a small group consisting of the two maidens from the dancing group and several adults made their way to the Ogi-awa. They all knelt in front of him in obeisance. He responded by stretching his staff towards them, his eyes were on the elegantly covered maiden in front of him. He addressed the man that was introduced as the father of his young bride-to-be. He promised to bring him more gifts to add to the ones he had received from the prince of the land. The man thanked him profusely and told him it was an honor to have a daughter that pleased such an eminent personality. The journey back to Atte took three days; the Ogie-awa shunned most of the protocols as he was anxious to get back to the village to prepare for a proper marriage to his new betrothal. His three wives took one look at the beautiful Omugha and hated her. Omugha, who came with her younger sister, did not notice the hostility that was coming from the other women, but her younger sister immediately perceived it and mentioned it to her sister, who told her she worried too much.

The preparations for the wedding started with full swing, the villager brought farm produce every day to the palace as gifts for the young bride, but as the day drew nearer, the Ogie-awas wives became more agitated and hostile. Their fear was that the young virgin may be able to produce an heir for the king and they will be relegated to the background and simply forgotten. They decided that they had to take matters into their own hands and one market day, they journeyed to a neighboring village to meet with a dreaded witch doctor. Their mission was simple, a charm to kill an enemy. The witch doctor concocted a charm for them and told them to sprinkle it into their enemys food, but the second wife spoke up against that immediately, we cannot make it too obvious she cautioned the others, if we cook for her and she dies, everyone will know we are responsible she concluded. The other two nodded at her wisdom and turned to the witch doctor, we need for her to die as if by natural causes the third wife said harshly, she shifted on her stool, she had used all sorts of herbs just to be pregnant, unlike the other two who had five female children between them, she knew she will be the worst hit if the new wife ever produced an heir. You can invoke her name, we were told you have done that before she said to the witch doctor, who sat coolly staring at them. He sighed and shook his head, that will only work if the person in question is evil, I have called her spirit he told them in a whisper as if the evil spirits were listening in on their conversation, but it didnt appear, but dont worry, they dont call me Irikpekpe, the great spirit one for nothing he brought out another animal skin bag and emptied the dried mangled bones on his mat, then he grunted. Picking up one slender bone that looked suspiciously like the long beak of a bird but was smooth enough to pass for a stone, he tied a rope around it and stretched it out to the women, they all refused to accept it, dont worry, its not potent until some incantations are pronounced on it he told them. Eagerly, the third wife reached for it and tied it on the edge of her wrapper, be careful that it does not break he cautioned her, you will carry out the incantation, since you accepted the bone he told her, she nodded gravely, just tell me what to do she said as they all leaned in and he started to tell them what must be done to kill the Ogie-awas bride-to-be.

It was a very cold night; it had rained all day that fateful market day, so most of the traders still had their wares tied under their makeshift outer shed that was used both as storage and a place to cool off during the dreaded dry season. Omugha had finished her chores for the day and had long since turned in and instantly fallen asleep, but her younger sister, who lay beside her kept tossing and turning from the cold and the sheer fact that she was missing her home. She decided to go outside and light a fire to warm her until she was sleepy. She got up and made her way cautiously towards the back of the hut, she stopped short when she heard people talking. As she listened, she started to shiver uncontrollably, she recognized the voices as those of the Ogie-awas three wives, from what they were saying, they were planning to kill her sister! She turned and hurried back into the house and debated whether to wake her peacefully sleeping sister up or wait till morning. She decided to wait till morning, she knew her sister did not joke with her sleep, she will only be angry at her if she woke her up. Lying back down on the thin mat, she knew she will not sleep till morning. As the cock crowed to wake the farmers up, the clouds were still dark with stars and a half moon, Omugha stretched and finally woke up, she yawned and turned in the direction of where her sister usually slept, Im up already her sister said from her sitting position by the door, startled

Omugha stared at her, is something happening today? is it the day for the decorator to come and use the asu to design my hands? she asked as she got to her feet, no her sister replied, but theres something you must know she told her solemnly. Omugha stood with arms akimbo, her face suddenly relaxed and smiling, what could be so important that you have to wake up so early to tell me? she asked cocking her head playfully, wait, I know she said, smiling mischievously, you want to marry the great one too! she said as she started to laugh, her sister did not join in, ok, what is it, are you unwell? she asked as concern replaced the smile on her beautiful face. I am well, thank you and no, I dont want to marry the Ogie-awa she replied quietly, but I miss home, dont you? she asked her sister, hoping to use that as an opening to what she wanted to tell her, Omugha shrugged nonchalantly, not really, I mean, here Im not just another young maiden, Im the kings bride she said smiling again as she placed both hands on her wide, well shaped hips, Im honored here, while back at home, we had Odo, the village fool playing pranks and breaking our water pots she stared into space for a while, no, my dear she said in a very positive tone, I dont miss home and you shouldnt either, home is where your husband is, and mine is here she stopped again and looked at her sister, who knows, yours might just be here too, then we can be together she said trying to cheer her sister up. You cannot marry the Ogie-awa! her sister blurted out, taking in Omughas surprised expression, I heard yesterday now the words rushed out, they were plotting on how to kill you on your wedding day, so if you dont marry the Ogie-awa you can live, then we can go back home and be happy she said as she held her sisters hands.

Who did you hear? Omugha asked her calmly, the three wives! she replied urgently in a hushed tone, If we say we are going to the market, we can escape before they start looking for us she told her clearly amused sister in haste. Nobody is escaping, and Im sure you were mistaken, you know their dialect is different from our own, so you must have heard wrongly she told her sister, still calm. Her sister shook her head emphatically, I know what I heard, you forget I used to come here with mama to sell, I speak the language better than you, I know! she persisted, Ok Omugha replied, I will report them to my husband as soon as I see him trying to pacify her sister, she knew fully well she will not see the Ogie-awa until the wedding day; such was the custom of the land. Her sister nodded and sat back defeated, she knew there was no way to convince Omugha of her imminent death, so she started a song, just like they used to do back home, when they were sad or troubled, I nene ye Omugha, I nene ye Omugha I nene ye Omugha, I nene ye Omugha O pele uso nu yowe gbopkagba, ede nu we ruwe so kpagbo Omugha ye Eme ni wa geru o kpagbo Omugha ye Omugha o, I nene Omugha Omugha sighed shaking her head as she exited her hut; she wanted to instruct one of the palace messengers to get her a hair dresser.

As the day of the wedding drew closer and people flooded into their hut to carry out one beauty rite or the other in preparation for the wedding, Omughas sister stopped eating and she could be heard singing sorrowfully in their local dialect and crying. Everyone who heard the song were so moved they always asked Omugha for its interpretation, she brushes it aside and explained to them that her sister was home sick and the song was a folk song they used to sing when they were children. She failed to tell them that the words of the song were a warning from her sister to her, that her life was in danger and everyday, death drew close to their doorstep. She was more irritated than afraid by her sisters song, because she was fooled by the niceness and politeness the other wives showed every time she was present. They went out of their way to help her and were quick to instruct her on proper behavior during the wedding ceremony. On the night before the wedding as the asu, the local henna was used in decorating her hands and body, they sat close to her, smiling and complimenting her beauty. It was only her sister, who sat outside and sang the soulful song again, I nene ye Omugha, I nene ye Omugha I nene ye Omugha, I nene ye Omugha O pele uso nu yowe gbopkagba, ede nu we ruwe so kpagbo Omugha ye Eme ni wa geru o kpagbo Omugha ye Omugha o, I nene Omugha Her song sobered up the gathering, and even though they could not understand the words, everyone could hear the sorrow and anguish with which she sang calling her sisters name; only Omugha chose to ignore the wailing young maiden as she continued to chat blithely, as if she couldnt hear the song at all. That night, after everyone had gone to sleep and even Omughas sister had stopped singing and was asleep from exhaustion and hunger, the stealth figure of the third wife made her way towards the throne of the Ogie-awa and after some incantation, she placed the bone on steps and quickly retreated back to the confines of her hut, satisfied and almost dancing with suppressed excitement. The day of the wedding dawned bright and beautiful. The sky was covered with soft, puffy white clouds and vast expanse of blueness. There was a soft wind blowing, as if the gods themselves were blessing the union. The rhythmic sound of the six thickset women pounding, could be heard echoing in the still morning as they pounded freshly boiled yams that will be eaten as breakfast, the water fetchers hurried around filling as much of the huge earthenware pots that lined the Ogie-awas inner compound with water, they knew it will be in large supply throughout the day. In the elegantly decorated huts that housed the wives of the Ogie-awa, there was relative silence as Omugha roused herself and stretched her plump hands over her head in a yawn. She smiled when she remembered that the day was created for her. She looked idly around for her sister and saw her sitting beside the only doorway into and out of their hut, she exhaled, mildly annoyed. She was sure her sister had not slept for long. She smiled at her and got a frown in return, shrugging she turned away from her, if she was going to be like that, it was her burden to carry, she thought as she retied her wrapper and headed out through the doorway, at least for my own happiness, allow the dressers to make you up and apply the asu she said to her sister beseechingly before exiting to find her maids. The drummers started beating the wedding drums shortly before noon.

The villagers were already gathered at the large village square, everyone tried to outdo each other in the flamboyancy of their decorated wrappers; it left the whole place looking bright and extremely colorful. The Ogie-awa was already seated awaiting the arrival of the bride so that the ceremony will commence. Words had reached him through his trusted chamberlain that the beautiful bride had left her hut and was dancing her way to the village square. From afar, Omugha appeared like an African goddess as she was flanked by seven maidens from the village. They danced behind her and cautioned her to go as slowly as possible. Her sister took the rear, having reluctantly dressed up; she decided to see for herself when her sister will die. As they finally got to the square, the maidens fell back as Omugha approached her future husband. It was customary that she did the last leg by herself, to show that she was not been coerced into marrying the Ogie-awa. When she got to the foot of the elevated throne that had three steps, she paused and elegantly knelt down, until the Ogie-awa asked her to proceed. Getting up again, she placed her right foot on the first rung and danced, turning to wave to her soon-to-be subject. They rewarded her with cheers and accolades. She placed her left foot on the second rung and smiled up to the Ogie-awa. By now the king was panting with ill concealed excitement, he reached out with his hand towards her. She placed her right foot on the third rung and she stepped on a small white pebble. Slowly, her hand that was reaching out to the Ogie-awa wavered, then her smile died slowly as her face took on a look of surprise, then she half turned as her wide eyes met her sisters panic-stricken ones. Then she turned back to the Ogie-awa and sank to her knees in front of him, the villagers cheered again and praised her humility until they noticed that she was toppling down to the ground, then her stunned eyes blinked once and shut slowly and then she was still. Dead at the foot of the throne! There was such an outcry like there have never been before in the whole village, everybody in one accord mourned the death of such beauty, through the tears and cries of the gods injustice, there was a wailing that cut through all other voices, stopping the cries of all that heard it. It was the sister to Omugha, singing the same warning song she had sang for days as a warning to her sister. The Ogie-awa asked her to step forward and when she was led to the foot of the throne, she knelt before her sister, took her still face in her hands and said, You see what I was telling you? you wouldnt listen, you see? I told you they were going to kill you her voice dissolved into groans, the Ogie-awa leaned down and shook her shoulder, what did you just say? he inquired, as the head of the village, he was unable to show his real emotionsit was an abomination for anyone to see him cry, or laughwhich was of profound sadness and emptiness for the loss of his young beautiful bride, she turned her head up and looked at him with such pain that he flinched and drew back, I told her they were planning to kill her she said again, cradling her sisters head as she slowly rocked on her haunches. The Ogie-awa looked around him for support, it seemed to him that she had gone mad with grief, who, child? he whispered hoarsely, his blood already boiling, if there was any truth in what he had heard, heads will surely roll Your wives! she spat out clearly for all to hear. There was another outcry and instant pandemonium. Omugha was forcefully removed from her sisters death-like clutch while they were both carried away to the palace, Ogie-awa immediately called for a meeting with his chiefs. As the sun balzed overhead, the stillness of the village was a caricature of the bustleness of the morning. Everyone had been ordered to stay in their huts until the elders found an answer to the

bizarre happenings of the day. After heated arguments, it was agreed that the wives will be brought before the chiefs and asked to tell what they knowif they knew anything at allof omughas death. They were sent for and solemnly they knelt before the chiefs and their husbands tears in their eyes for Omughas death. The Ogie-awas right hand man, Alake, cleared his throat, they were unused to accusations of murder in their village so there was no protocol on how to handle the present situation, we greet you our mothers he started, they all bowed in unison, Omughas death comes as a shock and a cruel blow to our community he continued as most of the chiefs hissed and shrugged their shoulders, the Ogie-awa sat staring impassively straight ahead as if he heard nothing, but her sister has leveled accusation that you are all responsible for her death he finished as the wives shrieked in shock, ah! My chief replied the oldest wife, of what gain will it be for us if she dies? Killing her does not mean our illustrious husband will not take another wife she replied wisely, she looked at the other wives and they nodded their consent at her reply, the third wife was finding it difficult to keep a mournful face, besides we told her that all that jewelry she was wearing will arouse the annoyance of oya, the goddess of beauty, was she trying to out do the goddess she added flippantly, she was ecstatic that the young woman was dead. Alake nodded his head, he thought the young maiden was too beautiful to be a human, he secretly thought she was the daughter of ame, the goddess of the rivers, whose daughters usually turned into humans to lure young men astray. It had happened before but he kept his thoughts to himself, so you are pleading innocent of this accusation he asked them instead, they all nodded and the oldest wife spoke up again for all of them. He turned to the ogie-awa spreading his hands, our noble king, you have heard from your wives that they are innocent to this accusation, the young maiden must be distressed over her sisters sudden death, we should think of how to inform her parents of this terrible news he finished as the Ogie-awa got up and wordlessly left the gathering. The next morning, a messenger was sent to Omughas village to come with the prince. He was told to run night and day to make sure he got there and was back before the body started to decay. But Omughas body that was laid out inside her hut looked as fresh as if she was asleep. It took the messenger three days to go and return, he brought word that the prince was on his way. By the sixth day, the prince arrived the village with Omughas father and his chief priest. Immediately Omughas sister narrated her story again, infront of everyone, the two noble men, the two chief priest and the whole village. Omughas father stood up and bowed to the Ogie-awa, his face forlon, my king he began, my daughter is not given to telling tales, though as a woman, her words should be taken with a pinch of salt, but I will beseech you that the oracles be consulted and if her death was not natural, I would like the culprits brought to justice he bowed deeply again and sat back down, the prince stood up and bowed to the Ogie-awa, who was still not reacting, my dear noble friend, I am deeply sorry for your loss, and I apologise for my subjects strong words about justice he said spreading his hands, finally the Ogie-awa was paying attention to him, but grief reduces even the strongest of men and in our quest to lighten the pain, we shift blames on things we can hold and fight, please feel free to do whatever you want, the maiden in question was already yours, even though the ceremony was not completed he concluded and sat back down as Omughas father broke down and started crying. Ogie-awa cleared his throat, shifted on his chair, let the young maiden be brought here! he said gruffily, the chiefs looked around at each other, Alake stepped forward, she is kneeling before you my king he replied pointing to Omughas sister, who was still kneeling and weeping, I mean the dead one! he said clearly. The villagers looked at themselves in confusion, the body

was already six days gone, the messengers shrugged and tied their neck scarves over their noses, they expected foul smell. But when they got to the hut, they found the dead maiden without smell or decay, as beautiful as if she was taking a nap before the ceremony she was dressed for. They picked her up effortless and carried her to the village square. An elevated stand with a mat was laid out, they placed her on it and the whole village started to mourn afresh, for the dead maiden was quite a beauty to behold. Let the chief priests find out if she died of natural causes Ogie-awa ordered. The chief priest of Atte and the chief priest that accompanied the prince promptly stepped forward, they looked at each other and bowed respectfully to themselves, then they started with their consultation of the oracle. As the day cooled and the sun was setting, the chief priests communed between themselves and then the Atte chief priest spoke up, this is the unanimous words of the gods he said in a hoarse voice, there was a hush in the square as everyone leaned forward to hear, the gods have taken their own! he stated and started to leave, everyone screamed but the Ogie-awas wives screamed the loudest in jubilation, Ogie-awa bowed his head, sad, Omughas sister got up and took off towards the area where her sister had died, she stopped abruptly and was seen looking down at the ground, then she stooped and picked something up and ran back, My king she said kneeling with tear-streaked face, I hold in my hand the stone that killed my sister, let the wives touch it and if nothing happens to them, then they will be completely exonerated the Ogie-awa nodded and asked his wives to step forward, they all did fearfully. He asked the first wife to pick up the bone, kneeling down, she declined and said the task should start with the youngest wife. The Ogie-awa then asked the youngest to pick up the bone, she was too afraid to disobey the Ogie-awa but she was also afraid of the potency of the charm, as she shuffled on her feet, Omughas sister threw the small charm at her and the minute it touched her, she turned to a stone, she picked up the pebble and threw it at the other two, as they struggled to flee, the stone touched the second wife and as she turned into stone, she grabbed the hand of the first wife and they were eternally turned into stone. As the crowd screamed at the spectacle before them, Omugha sneezed and stretched there was an instant uproar! She was assisted to her feet and the Ogie-awa for the first time ever wept openly as he hugged his young bride. Seven days later, Omugha was married to the Ogie-awa amidst her father, the prince, her watchful sister and the whole village. The place where the three wives stood as statues was covered by palm fronds and they were referred to as the three evils. They stand there till this day.

The End