Chapter 1

Written by: Iliena Bosu

The village, where she was born, was small and it was known to have housed a happy bunch of ordinary families, once upon a time. She grew up hearing about how the air was always crisp with jubilation. However, a thick, black smoke of hopelessness now filled her lungs.

Her village was now one with the dust because centuries ago two members of the tribe did something no other dared to do.

Legend had it that the daughter of the village high priest and tribal chief’s son fell deeply in love with each other. But, she was chosen to become a priestess and he was set to marry the chief’s daughter of a neighbouring clan.

They were so much in love that staying apart felt like death. So, they eloped, hoping for a blissful life.

Soon the news spread like a wildfire. When it reached the chief of the neighbouring clan, he knew this meant war. His honour was marred and it was unacceptable. He sent his finest warriors to search for the newlyweds.

“Bring them alive” ordered the tribal chief. “They must not be harmed.”

Days later, they were found and captured by the chief’s men. Shackled in chains, when they were presented to the Chief, the pronouncement was instant.

“The boy’ll be beheaded, for he has disgraced the family and our clan.”

Fear was instilled in those present by the chief’s calm demeanor.

“All the neighbouring villages must be invited to watch. As for the girl, she will be sold to the highest bidder.”

On the unfortunate day, the girl was dressed in the finest of clothes and adorned with the prettiest of ornaments. However, she felt intoxicated more with fear and anticipation than the fragrance of the best perfume the servant girl sprinkled on her. Her husband was being subjected to ridicule and extreme humiliation at this very moment.

The young man was executed first.

“Her beautiful face is the last thing I wish to remember.” He uttered with his last remaining breath. Then, he was no more.

“I CURSE YOU ALL!” she bellowed at those applauding the death of her love.

“From this day onward, none of you will know love. Neither you nor the generations to come will feel love. All there will be left are anger, hate and despair. If there ever dawns a day when the rays of joy touch this land, may it be consumed by fire.

“You,” She pointed at the tribal chief, “you ignorant man, you don’t know the power of love. I curse you that as generation after generation of your clan is born, you shall live to watch them perish. You shall grow old and wither but not die until the day you learn the true power of love.”

Saying so, she pulled out a double edged knife from the depths of her dress and slit her own throat.

As time passed, many lives crumbled and decayed. However, the curses and cursed chief survived.

Comments

This is very good back story Iliena and gives writers who follow several threads to pick up on. I really enjoyed reading it as it took the story forward by taking us back! A clever paradox.