Foxryder

The children came running; they disturbed the calm, dry sand beneath their feet. A curtain of brown dust rose behind them as they followed the winding way to the village square. They inhaled vigorously. Their tongues forked against the coming air hoping to recuperate some energy.


It was very unusual for little children to interrupt the meeting of the elders. No, not in the village-square where my fellow town's men and I had gathered for a discussion on the upcoming New-Yam Festival.


I sat next to Achiko, who finally stood up to address the little children. He wasn't the oldest amongst the elders but of course, was the one who was presided at our clan meetings lately.


'Umu m (children), what is it?' Achiko asked, mirroring the suprise and tension that cut across the elders. He jaws slacked a bit as he tried to knot properly, a brown wrapper which was lazily tied round his waist.


But the children were still panting profusely. Although I knew they must have ran a long distance all the way to village square, I needed them to say something as soon as possible. My mind was in a whirl. Anything thing could happen... good or evil.

'What is it?' Another elder asked in a loud voice. But we hushed him down, urging him to be patient with the children.

'Breathe in... Out... In,' I told the children. The children all obeyed; beckoning their breaths to return to normal.

'Again, what happened?' I asked, patiently.

'A woman sent me to give you this gold feather as soon as possible,' one of the the children gasped.

'When?' Our faces lit against that of the children. They gaped at us as if we, the elders, had suddenly fell from the sky. I knew they were surprised at our sharp curiosity but that would be addressed duly.


'We were playing when -' the boy began to say.

'Where... Where did she give it to you?' Achiko interrupted, his voice coming before ours.

'She came from your compound, Sir,' the boy replied.


Achiko ran out. He was so excited that his wrapper almost drawn away from his waist by the wind. The children looked on amazed then finally asked, 'Why did he have to leave so quickly?'


The other elders and I laughed heartily with sporadic eye contacts. We knew what had just happened.


'A baby boy has been born!' we chorused at last.


Culture is a good thing, I thought. A male baby - the first male child - born to a family, according to our tradition, was a significant sign of the future. The continuation of a man's bloodline.