A TALE OF AMARA II
A chilly January wind swept across the hills and valleys of Udi, Enugu
state that Saturday morning as Chief Tobias Utaba was laid to rest.
Local fireworks exploded in the air, deafening and destructive. The
townsfolk of Umu-Okwe (this place is supposed to be fictional) were
saddened by the loss of one of the few wealthy sons of their
hometown who had the interest of his people at heart. Family and
friends cried or laughed depending on how they were affected by his
death, while they processed bearing gifts to present to the family of
the deceased. Their grim faces where a reflection of the loss in their
hearts and if that didn’t work, their bald heads and black garbs did.
Sitting in a quiet corner of the tarp tent erected for the funeral
service, Amara looked as disinterested in the entire affair as cat
presented with a bowl of salad.
The pomp and pageantry entailed in
the funeral of an Igbo chieftain was unduly long, and in Amara’s
opinion, pointless. Five cows and fifteen goats were slain just to
entertain their guests most of whom brought their own refreshment
along. What a wasteful culture. As the youngest child and the closest
to her father, Amara was required to cater to her father’s friends and
ensure their needs were well met. A chore Amara hastily passed on to
her younger cousins whose lives were touched greatly and positively
by the departed chieftain.