I am a man with no name to claim, I possess a voice; deep with silence. With clear reasoning, I speak. My eya had told me that her gods had revealed to her that I was the child with his hands crossed. My village’s Juju man had also prophesied about the birth of a child with the wisdom from the gods. I never believed those fermented tales. I believed in my own makings, which made me uncommitted for ancestral blasphemy. There was one time I was told by the man with the staff to eat a living snake as a required rite called tagalasan, but I refused, to which he cursed me with the plaque of death. I was not bothered by his words because, I had already met with death on the day I was born. I have always been absorbed with my own perturbing gifts. My blood was filled with anger towards all evil. The man with the staff was indeed my recurring evil. I wanted to pull out that man’s heart and place its repulsiveness on a stake as a sole reminder of how good always reigned over evil. But how does one conquer evil with death and blood? I was aware of the circle of life; the making of life through death. But I felt that the land of the red was done been poisoned by the man with the staff. His eyes were vile and cunning like those of a snake, his skin was made of relic rocks, and his teethes shone with dark coal. I loathed him; he reflected everything in life I had sworn to despise, it was another tragic tale of good and evil.
For years, the land of Ododo wasted lives all in the purpose of traditional rituals. No one knows the origins of this priest known as the man with the staff; he came to my land from the thick darkness prophesying false revelations. My people accepted him with open arms, and with time given he inflicted his curse upon my people. He killed my people in the name of a god made with gold and silver. He shed blood at the expense of our children. I had to stop him; I was born to save my people. My short life was destined to take back the light from this man. He was the demon I was born to slaughter. He had managed to escape hell, but I knew my destiny was to send to him back to the land of the abyss. I must…surely I must. But then…
Awake Man of Ododo
The voice rang out soft and calm dragging me out of the dark back to the clear bright day. I then recalled that I was on a journey
The journey back home was long, for many suns and dark nights, I walked through the narrow hills of the north. My body was weak and cried for food. In these paths, there were no berries, no meat nor calf-milk just sand and earth; paths which either lead to a waterfall or a deep valley filled with hungry beasts. The sun was harsh and unfair to whomever crossed its paths, but I thanked my gods for my calabash of water. As I moved closer to my land, the trees got taller, the night longer and my thoughts drifted back to that woman. She had left a stain deep under my skin, one even the water from the river of Ododo could not cleanse. As my vision got more and more vague, her image got clearer. Her shape which had been marked in my hands was see-through in my mind like water. I had gone to claim her from her land, but with a bow, she struck me deep with betrayal.
“My Omo Mo, time is no mystery, only an answer we refuse to listen to,” my eya had once said.
I should have listened, but been free of old age made my path to disobedience much easier to embark on. My pursuit for this woman had almost cost me my life. I remember that night, under the red moon, when our souls made a vow to each other. A vow we had sealed with our warm naked bodies. I could not resist the many temptations of the woman from the land of gold and silver. I remember her mind matured and her body was fresh and ripe ready for plucking. I refused to regret my decision to pursue her body on that lonely night.
My path to home was still long, but with every pace, I reminisced of the woman who had my own soul and refused to give me hers. And just like the beautiful morning bird, she flew away leaving me with only a taste to kill for. Birds and feather behind I had other worries, so I decided that I needed not worry for I knew who I was.
I am the man….. The man from the land of Ododo
The man in red tore away the beast’s flesh from its ancient bones; he strangled the beast till its eyes begged the gods of the red moon. The beast knew its days of uncalled savagery were over. With its last breathe drawing nearer, it howled out his soul into the abyss of the night. The man in red wondered why this cursed beast from the east had journeyed all the way to his home. He was glad to be back, finally back to his place of living. As he reached to the top of the lying calabash, the land he saw beyond the hills looked like the very earth of the dark world. The earth on his land was painted in blood, like sand to earth, all of his people were all scattered all over laying haggardly without life. He knew he was not dreaming, so he rushed through his land looking for any life, but all he saw was the mark of the man with the staff carved into every into all the dead. This was the symbol of the man with the staff; the circle with gold and silver. The man in red wailed out his heart to the god of the red moon. He swore vengeance into his heart and vowed to bring death to the man with staff. His eyes wore red, and without much pondering he marked himself the sign of the demon of Ododo. He filled his skin with the blood of his people, like a warrior he dashed into the land of the evil forest; he vowed to his gods that he would bring the god of death to the man with the staff. With every beat, every pace, his chest filled more and more with the rage of the red moon. On this black night, the stars bled fear into every man, beast, or demon for the angel of the abyss was nearing close to the east, and on this red night the red beast from the Ododo was born.