“You don’t sound too concerned about your boss,” said Beatrice. “That’s awful, you know.”
“If I told you half of what I know about Ossai you wouldn’t be too concerned either.”
“What a life!” said Emmanuel.
“Anyway, soldiering is not a sentimental profession. The first thing we learn is: Soja come, soja gwo.”
But all that was weeks and months behind them—weeks and months of slow preparation for today’s ritual outing.
When Elewa moved up to Beatrice and whispered into her ear what she had just come to suspect as the probable reason for her mother not being there yet Beatrice decided to perform the naming herself and to do it right away. She called the little assembly to order and proceeded to improvise a ritual.
She picked up the tiny bundle from its cot and, turning to Elewa, said: “Name this child.”
“Na you go name am.”
“OK. You just saved a false step, anyway. Thanks. I will start afresh… There was an Old Testament prophet who named his son The-remnant-shall-return. They must have lived in times like this. We have a different metaphor, though; we have our own version of hope that springs eternal. We shall call this child AMAECHINA: May-the-path-never-close. Ama for short.”
“But that’s a boy’s name.”
“No matter.”
“Girl fit answer am also.”
“It’s a beautiful name. The Path of Ikem.”
“That’s right. May it never close, never overgrow.”
“Das right!”
“May it always shine! The Shining Path of Ikem.”
“Dat na wonderful name.”
“Na fine name so.”
“In our traditional society,” resumed Beatrice, “the father named the child. But the man who should have done it today is absent… Stop that sniffling, Elewa! The man is not here although I know he is floating around us now, watching with that small-boy smile of his. I am used to teasing him and I will tease him now. What does a man know about a child anyway that he should presume to give it a name…”
“Nothing except that his wife told him he is the father,” said Abdul, causing much laughter.
“Na true my brother,” said Braimoh. “Na woman de come tell man say na him born the child. Then the man begin make inyanga and begin answer father. Na yéyé father we be.”
“Exactly. So I think our tradition is faulty there. It is really safest to ask the mother what her child is or means or should be called. So Elewa should really be holding Ama and telling us what she is. What it was like to be loved by that beautiful man Ikem. But Elewa is too shy. Look at her!”
“I no shy at all,” she replied, her eyes smiling and holding back tears at the same time like bright sunshine through a thin drizzle. “I no shy but I no sabi book.”
“Dis no be book matter, my sister.”
“You no sabi book but you sabi plenty thing wey pass book, my dear girl.”
“Say that again,” said Emmanuel.
“I concur,” said Captain Medani.
“Dat na true word,” said Braimoh.
“I tell you!” said Aina.
“All of we,” continued Beatrice, “done see baad time; but na you one, Elewa, come produce something wonderful like this to show your sufferhead. Something alive and kicking.”