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“Grandpa! The Warriors have returned.” Amena ran past the group of men ferociously approaching her grandfather's hut. Beads of sweat dripped wetting the earth they walked on. Battle scars adorned their pulsating chests. Their eyes were intense. The villagers in no time had already gathered behind the warriors. They halted in front of Goka’s hut.
Amena emerged from inside holding her grandfather's arm.
“Chief, We lost only two great fighters. Loc and Timo.” The leader of the group, Teken, spoke in short breaths. His eyes darted to Amena. He quickly blinked away the tenderness forming in his eyes.
“Tonight. We shall lay their souls to rest. Well done brave men of Suma. The gods do not forget.” Goka waved his staff in the air. With that, a celebration ensued. The silence that plagued Suma turned into merriment.
The people of Suma had been holding their hearts in their palms ever since the battle began between them and a distant clan, the mountain dwellers. These dwellers were the most fearsome clan because of their great numbers and cruel ways. They had one goal. To dominate every other clan until they become sole rulers and controllers of the race. Although the Suma clan never lost a battle, the mountain dwellers saved the Suma clan for last because they had thought that with their fewer numbers, they were easy to squash like ants. However, the Sumas were a complete wonder to all the clans. They were the smallest in number. Only about fifty warriors but they would always conquer even a battalion of fighters. This often puzzled their neighbors. It was the biggest mystery of their race. “The Suma’s have more spears than fighters.” they'd often say.
“This way Amena. Be still now. Why are your hands shaky like the iroko tree on a breezy night?” Goka wailed. The kind that sounded like love and affection.
Amena adjusted and watched as her grandfather skillfully scraped a slice of wood off the lumber he held. He rubbed the smooth surface and blew off the dust on the piece.
“This is the last piece for the night. The souls of the departed need to rest. Henceforth, they become protectors of the clan. Oh, and you, my dear, need some sleep. Quit rubbing your eyes.” Goka looked up at his granddaughter who was now yawning and smiled at her. He exhaled and got off the bamboo seat he sat on. He began whispering into the two figurines in his palms. “Loc and Timo. Take your place with the ancestors.” Gently he placed the figurines on a branch.
“Pay me attention Amena. This seat is yours when I leave this world, you will be chief. You must learn to rest the souls of the departed. Strangers from the West will come and try to claim this land just like the mountain dwellers. When they do, you must be ready Amena.” Goka’s voice turned firm.
Amena cleared her eyes. She had never paid any attention to her grandfather's work. She looked up at the tree that created a large canopy over their heads. Several hundreds of figurines were positioned all over the branches of the tree. Little wooden lanterns also scattered on the branches illuminated the figurines. It was the biggest tree Amena had ever seen in her lifetime. She admitted to herself that the sight of exquisite figurines spread across the tree gave it an air of spectacle and mystery that she liked. Goka had told her that it was the Tree of Life and had been alive right from the beginning of time. Amena didn't understand why her grandfather had to perform this ritual every time a member of the clan died. He called it the “passage”.
Moons had passed and normality had returned to the people. One eerie evening, a deep cry pierced the center of Suma. The earth shook. Goka had gone to be with his ancestors. Amena was in disarray. Goka's death hit her hard. She had never imagined that the man would leave her all alone. He had left her, only a girl with the burden of upholding the clan. It was a rude awakening for Amena. She now had to be a chief, keeper of the clan.
Two weeks passed before Amena was able to get herself together. She walked to the Tree of Life, sat on Goka’s seat, and picked up his carving knife. She was going to make him a figurine and lay his soul to rest. Like a state of trance, Amena sculpted the most stunning figure to represent her grandfather. She had never used the knife before but she felt will, strength, and uncontrolled inspiration that surged within her. When she was done, Amena climbed the tree and placed it on the trunk. “Rest on Goka,” she whispered.
That night, chaos ensued. The bleating of goats, horses charging, and wailing replaced the eerie silence of the night. Amena’s eyes widened in her hut. The gong of the town crier filled the air.
“The strangers from the west have stepped foot on our land.”
Amena ran out of her hut. Confusion filled the land as villagers ran aimlessly. Amena ran to the tree of life, behind Goka’s hut where the river bank lay to the west.
She halted. A knot formed in her throat and she swallowed hard. The strangers emerging from the bank were a kind she had never seen before. They were in hundreds of boats. They had pale skin, long hair, and lean frames. They were clad in strange clothes and weapons. Their numbers were greater than any army the race had ever seen.
Amena began to hear warrior chants. She looked behind her and saw the warriors had assembled with their spears and arrows. Teken walked up to Amena. He stood beside her and held her hands. “The gods are with us. They’ve always been.”
Amena sighed. She felt a little relieved. Teken always had that effect on her. Soon, she felt the wind turn cold. The hair on her skin stood and the sound of the wind began with a sonorous tone. For a moment, the earth stood still for Amena. She began to hear whispers. She felt a stronger presence around her. Amena turned and what she saw almost crippled her. She froze. Behind them were hundreds of beings that looked like souls. They were people illuminated in light. Their glow was blinding.
Amena saw a glow she recognized so well. Beneath all that light was the smiling face that raised her. She saw Goka again. A thrill enveloped her. She looked at the tree of life and all the figurines were gone. Right there, she knew why Suma had more spears than fighters in battle. She turned, looked at Teken, and smiled. “Let’s go to war,” she roared.