My bare feet splash into puddles, anklets rattling as I stroll through the marketplace, the water travelling up my ankles and sinking into my skin. Men stop and stare; they cannot help it. They temporarily forget their wives, even the ones who are genuinely in love with their spouses, and their minds fill with sensual thoughts with me as the object of their desire. The strong-willed ones look away, but for no more than a second before their eyes come back to me like a boomerang returning to its owner. Like I said, they cannot help it.
I am not just beautiful, I embody beauty itself. My skin shines like a thousand suns are beneath it; it’s colour the same as dark coffee beans. My breasts are magnificent; shaped like identical upturned Calabashes and they are never dry. I am fertility after all. My hips are hypnotic in their movement, they dance in response to the music of my coral waist beads. My lips curve in a small smile, I move with a destination in mind. I know where I’m going and what, rather Who I want. The other mortal men don’t matter, I flick their lustful thoughts away like flies, a small frown forming on my face at some of them.
The market continues to stare in awe as I pass through, the men lustful, the women jealous and in awe at the same time. If only they knew. It is I who lined their wombs, I am the fluid in their semen, I am the one who makes it possible for seeds to grow in the darkness of wombs and become babies who will become men and women. I have been here from the very beginning.
I pass through the plantain groves and they sway in praise to me, their leaves rustling a song as old as time to the call of the wind. As I get close to home I hear the thunder of Sango’s voice. I watch as the clouds darken and thunder tears through them; loud and crackling with electricity. He was angry. My smile deepens; my plan has worked. I hurry forward and burst into our home where Sango is raining thunder on Ọba, his first wife and my rival.
“Ó fé pá mi, àbí, Oba?!”
I watch in smug victory as Ọba falls to her knees, bleeding from the side of her head where her ear used to be. She shakes in terror, tears pouring from her eyes. I want to drink her tears, the gullible fool.
“Answer me, woman!!”
Outside, the thunder booms and even I quake a little for Sango is terrifying in his anger. As if sensing me there, Oba raises her head and stares at me, hatred in her eyes. I stare back haughtily, defiant.
It makes her angrier and Ọba in her fury makes a decision that would cost us our lives and marriage.
“Osun made me do it!!”
She screams and flies at me, like a dark malevolent spirit intent on causing harm. She’s too busy trying to hurt me, she doesn’t notice that Sango has transformed into his real self; his anger too hot control. A loud crack of thunder accompanied by lightning strikes in between us, singing my skin and setting Ọba on fire. She screams, the sound piercing my soul and electrifying my blood.
There is no going forward now, so I turn and flee. I race through the forest, unable to escape the thunder of Sango’s fury.
I run till I get to a cliff, stopping short at the very edge. Fire spreads through the forest, fast and hot. Sango is coming. I look down at the dry land at the bottom of the cliff and realise what I must do.
Arms spread out, I turn towards the fire and fall. My body dissolves as I hit the ground, my bones liquifying and a river flows immediately bubbling out my name.
“Osun. Osun. Osun“