CALL ME OFURE

Call me Ofure!

Call me Ofure, if you dare, and let me show you what betrayal feels like. Look into my eyes and watch them turn golden from hate and pity, as I recount the tale of a girl who was forsaken by those she called her village, her friends, and her family.

Tell me, as you walk along the jagged clay pots scattered around the bush path to the stream, what do you see? Can you hear the echoes of laughter from those who once called themselves my friends, but now gossip behind my back as I struggle to collect water for my family?

Adanna and Okey, tell me, what sorrowful songs do the wives of my mother's clan sing when they raise the clothes of shame they have dropped on my cold body, lying silently on my father's corridor? Do they even care that I have been violated and shamed?

And what marks and bruises have my envious friends and acquaintances wished upon my silent soul? Was my misfortune not enough for them to revel in?

Call me Ofure!

Call me Ofure, not out of courtesy, but out of duty. Call me Ofure, because that is what this pitiful and short life should be named. Call me Ofure, because I was born under a drunken fortune, and I leave this earth in pain and misery.

Call me Ofure Nneka!

Say it with a smile, if you can. But hold onto your pocket knife, the one that stabbed my sweaty back as I helped Isioma with her water pad.

Call me Ofure Nneka!

And don't break a cold sweat as you join others in wailing for me. You are not a killer anymore; you are a backstabber and a malice keeper. 

Call me Ofure Mama!

Your tears and wrappers won't bring me back. Agwu has taken me by the hand and led me to the underworld.

Call me Ofure Nnayi!

I'm sorry I couldn't wait to dance for you on the new moon festival. But don't worry, I'm in good company with those who have also been abandoned by their people.

Call me Ofure people of Umuoji!

For I am now a daughter you have abandoned, and my only solace is in the arms of Agwu, the spirit escorter.

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