Inamorata 2- Dying... (split)

She leaned on the torso of one of the lions, caressing its tawny fur, listening to the pulse of its heartbeat and allowing herself to admire the sunset that peeked through the curved entrance of the cove. She had seen many its kind, but the repetition never dulled its beauty. She drew in a breath as a soft breeze played into the room, carrying with it the lulling sense of relaxation that dusk only brings. Sweeping her eyes lazily around, she quietly admired the silent strength that resided with her, taking in the imposing sight of twenty grown male lions peacefully lounging.

They had come in, and never left. She barely remembered a life that wasn’t spent tending to her them, although she did not spy any of her kind doing the same. It didn’t matter though, for this was where she felt at home. They were good to her, these beasts, bringing her sizeable chunks of their kills, and standing guard every night when she went to cook the meat, lest the lionesses and wolves got any ideas. They followed her everywhere, and for this all the other beasts of the forest stayed out of her way. It was an imposing sight, seeing the tall, slim wisp of a woman surrounded by menacing looking male lions. They gathered around her during the cold season, keeping her warm from the harsh harmattan chills. They herded pregnant goats to her cove, so that she could feed off their milk. They lay down around when she indulged in her hubby of tree climbing, and she liked to think it was to protect her, in case she fell. They swatted flies of her during dusk, for she had no tail. In return, they sucked her dry.

A lion yawned; awakening her from her reverie. She stared at its long, sharp canines; at the quick twitching of its tail as it swatted annoying flies off its back. It has been two days since he ate, and she felt her heart sink at the thought, the weight of her responsibilities dragging it further down. Day after day, night after night, she had breast fed these lions. Her hand involuntarily went to her breast, mindlessly caressing the abused organ. They were insatiable. They did not eat anything else, and they did not understand it when she had slumped to the floor, a few months back, while feeding Ezra, no - they had simply nudged over her semi conscious body and continued sucking. 

She sighed now at the memory, and quietly arose. The weakness never left, but she felt a little better today, and shuffling her frail feet, she decided to see if she could make it to the lake by the cave, to stare at her reflection and gauge how far worse she had become. Leaning against the walls, she dragged her limp body to the entrance. She got to the opening and...stopped. Slowly, the realization that she could get no further dawned on her, for the wall had ended; there was nothing else to lean upon. She stood still for a moment, shocked by her forgetfulness, her temporary stupidity. For how could she have walked all this way, heavily dependent on the wall, and not have seen that it ended only a few feet from her? Her eyes widened as a thought birthed in her head, like a sure, dark mist. Perhaps, her mind was dying too. The idea chilled her to the marrow, and she bravely leaned her head back to stop the tears from coming. A low growl stopped her, and she turned around to meet Ezra’s soulful eyes staring back. He got up, shook his whole nine feet body, from the mane to the flanks, and walked to her, silently offering his back. Gratefully, she sat down, and allowed herself to be carried to the lake.

 The air was crisp, the refreshing cool breeze calming her frayed nerves. Resting on the banks, she peered  expectantly down the clear waters to peruse her mirror image...and froze. The reflection that stared back at her was incredulous. Frowning, she touched her own face to make sure it was still hers. The face that stared back at her was still young, still heartstoppingly beautiful. The eyes glittered and danced, drunk from a mirth that she did not feel. Her lips; tauntingly red, as red as the blood that stained the meat she fed on, and her hair, her rich, long, dark hair, fell in ripples of shiny luster that rivaled even those of the leaping forest panthers.

             How could this be?? She was weak. She was dying. She felt it in the way her bones refused to carry her anymore, she saw it in the strands of hair she left behind on the floor every time she woke up.  She was distracted suddenly by a sharp jerk from Ezra, who had been lapping silently a few feet from her. He stood now, transfixed, alert, staring eerily into space. What was going on? Before she could think, all her further thoughts fled for their safety as Ezra released an earsplitting roar, which chased the birds from the nearby trees and brought the sleeping lions running out. She remained on the floor, heart beating in her chest. The lions formed a rough semicircle around her, low growls emitting from their throats. An intruder was on their terrain, and whatever it was, it was not welcome.

Inamorata- Re-Born (Part 1)

Her breasts were full. She felt them again, admiring the way they filled her hands, squishy and soft like pure water bags. They felt so comforting. She closed her eyes and squeezed some more, kneading the soft mounds to ease the pain. How wonderful nature was, bringing comfort to both mother and child. Ah, yes, child. She sighed, and looked at the litter of lions scattered around, mewing softly for her attention. Soon they’ll smell the milk and come rushing, and the weaker ones who wouldn’t be able to reach her first would just have to wait for the second round. They wouldn’t like it, but then it was nothing she could help; she simply could not produce enough breast milk for fourteen ravenous baby lions to feed at once. She sighed as she sat, and then picked up the youngest cub and nudged her engorged nipple into its mouth. It latched on and she leaned in, enjoying the sound of its suckling.

He watched her from afar, his Inamorata. He had watched her for ages, sat on the hill and watched, her beauty serenading his sights. Like a lantern that could not be hid under a bowl, her beauty shone through the woods and streams of the village, blinding the young women with jealousy and young men with lust. They had sent her away, those jealous wives, far away into the Forest of Bones, for that was all that remained of anyone who ventured there. He had cried from the injustice of it all, and was even more saddened seeing that none of the elders were ready to intervene, fearing the wrath of their wives and daughters. So he packed his prized possessions, and followed the path that his Light touched, and he had watched her ever since, with hopes of righting the wrong that was meted out to her and bring her back home, God willing, as his wife.

He smiled now, how time had passed, how naïve he had been. It had seemed so simple, and probably would have been, if he hadn’t discovered on his journey the real reason the forest was named Bones. He had stepped into a clearing that day, and was delighted to see the sun rays reflect on the radiant skin of the object of his desire. The light danced on her, the sun itself taking its time to admire her beauty. Her long, jet black hair was flowing quietly, the wind slightly teasing it, as if delighting in its silkiness. She stood so still, her eyes mirroring the look of unrippled water, calm…wary. There was something unnatural about her stillness, for even the air seemed to have infected it. The trees said not a word, their leaves remaining unruffled. A shadow passed suddenly, and he looked up, wondering what had interrupted the rays, only to see a vulture perch on a nearby branch. He frowned as another followed suit. His eyes swept across the plain, wondering where they had come from, and fell on golden mane of a crouching lion. No, two…and his eyes widened as he realized that surrounding them both, were lots of hungry lions. It wasn’t a pack, or a family, no, far from it. There were at least forty lions present…and more seemed to be pulling in. He stood, frozen in his spot, stunned but alert. His head had not caught on the paralysis of his heart; he knew he had to get his Inamorata out of here. He watched the lions approach, and all his rational thoughts melted into dismay as the closest lioness to them suddenly sprang out from her crouched position, aiming straight for Her throat. He sprang immediately, but his reflex died as he witnessed the strangest scene in his life. 


A male lion emerged from nowhere and roared sharply and menacingly, stopping the lioness in her tracks. He came forward, majestically calm, and walked to Her side. She didn’t move, still maintaining her still stance. For what seemed like a day they stood, face to face, appraising each other. Even the air was still, as no one dared to disrupt it by breathing. Finally, She moved. She raised her hand and tentatively touched the mane of the lion. He didn’t flinch, so she got braver, and moved closer to get a better feel of it. The lion purred softly, enjoying her caresses. She fell to her knees, in relief perhaps, and buried her face in his mane. The lion remained still, and they assumed that position for what seemed like an eternity. Nobody noticed the vultures flying away, silently fuming at this waste of their efforts, too hungry to partake in the mystery unfolding below them. Finally, She rose, and the lion purred again. It moved around her, in its slow, majestic manner, lowering his head and shaking its mane vigorously as if in appreciation of her heart stopping beauty. It was as though all off nature got the cue, for softly, the birds started to chirp, and a soft breeze gently blew past his palms, which he realized, were wet from sweat. 


His realization was rudely cut short as a flash of tan whizzed past his sight, and he looked in time to see the lioness who had attacked earlier, launch herself at the male, only to be stopped short by a sharp blow, very much like a slap, from his paws. She crumbled down to the ground, whimpering. She had lost her husband to this resplendent daughter of Eve. The lion turned around, bowed at the feet of his inamorata, and started walking away from her; into the crowd of lions. She followed suit. The lions too, albeit keeping a respectful distance between the King and his bride. He remained where he was, still unnoticed, held wisely there by an knowledge that he would not be given the special treatment that his Ella was receiving. He waited till they were out of sight, and then trailed their movements, and he watched as the lion established Her in her own cove, elevated from all other feline folk. Then and only then, did he rest his weary bones on the top of the hill in the Forest of Bones, folded his wily, tired body, and closed his eyes to sleep. As his eyes drifted shut, he vowed that he would get her out of there, come rain, come sunshine, lions or bears, and God willing ,he would make her his wife.

A Letter To My Unborn Child.

Before you begin to yimu, allow me to explain myself. I have never been one to get caught up in fads. The letter series (which is fast becoming an epidemic) going on in blogsville was something I enjoyed reading, but never saw myself participating in. However, I have one huge flaw- where movies are concerned, I am very impressionable. First, I watched For Colored Girls and saw two kids being thrown out a window. I could almost hear the ‘splat!’ their brain matter would have made on the pavement. I cried for days…and then, I carried myself to go and watch Changeling tonight. It was so traumatizing, it forced me to think- what would I do if something happened to my child? The answers that arose in my breast inspired me to write this letter. If there was ever a sea that would surely deliver my words to my baby, it is the internet, and what better bottle is there to house it than my blog?

Nwa Bekee’m,

First off, I want you to know that I love you. You might get to hear this a lot when you grow older (and you might get skeptical) but I loved you even before I knew you. Ever since I carried your Aunty Oma in my arms and watched her pull my hair mischievously because I refused to kiss her, I knew I couldn’t wait for you to arrive. I used think I liked babies before her, used to have a ready (but disgustingly sappy) ‘aww, how cute’ on my lips every time like your female friends would do when they see a baby, but I never really knew what it was to take care of a child, to love a child. Best believe your Aunty Oma taught me that, in the most annoying possible way that she could, and for that, I am grateful.

Writing to you is not the easiest thing to do, Nke’m, because it is so hard to organize my thoughts and coherently say to you all that I want to. I am not going to give you much advice here because I fully intend to be there during your years of formation, God will see to it. I will be there to feed you, to bath you, to hold your little torso while you poo. Those sleepless nights and exhausted days, those heavy eyes, I would go through every single one for you. I may not relish it, but I will cherish it. You are the single most important thing to me in this life, Nke’m. It is important that you understand that. My parents are important, my siblings, my friends, your father, but you? You are the gift God blessed me with. A gift of life. You are my definition of love, my darling, love so abundant that I am amazed that I am even capable of giving it.

Here I am, listening to Kuchi Kuchi (by J’odie) and laughing at how I’m writing this whole post just to tell you how much I love you. Hmm, since we are on the subject, allow me to drop some few words of caution. You would be an omalicha, asampete nwanyi, a radiantly beautiful (or handsome) child, because I am not ugly, and your father isn’t either. Many men are going to come and try and take you, because all men want what is good. You will get tired of hearing ‘I love you’ my dear, it will reduce in stock value; so many fake ones flying around. Heed my words, my child. Only the man who is more ambitious for you than he is for himself possesses genuine love for you. That is the truest sign of love,and that is the one you must get. Heaven forbid that you should have anything less.

I have said a lot, my darling. Imagine, if after all this preparations and prayers, I now never get you…or one stupid fellow would just bring his ugly big coconut head and steal you. That is my greatest fear o, my dear, but that’s all that it is, a mere fear. It is not a worry, because it will never come to pass. I will have you, I will enjoy you, I will love you. I will never get tired of saying it. This is not the most eloquent thing I have written, Nke’m, but for now, it is the most sincere. Hopefully you find this someday while you’re browsing aimlessly, like we are all wont to do. Better make sure all your chores are finished and perfected sha, else, if I catch you…

Last off, hopefully by the time you read this, I would have perfected my little daycare. Yes, my goals are also inspired by you too. Don’t you understand? I love you! I have to hold myself back from devoting everything I do to you, because God has to come first. That is another thing you need to know too. God comes first. He would order your life, your steps, your thoughts and your actions. I may be your mother and ___ may be your father, But God is your Lord, the author and finisher of your faith. He will be there for you when everything else goes.

That being said, let me just say these last words…I hope the world doesn’t end on May 21^st.