Mazi Okonta was a revered man in our neighborhood. Among the many council of chiefs, he stood out, not only for his wealth or his affect, however for his schooling. Whereas the opposite chiefs barely made it previous Customary Six, Mazi Okonta proudly held a secondary faculty certificates. That small piece of paper made him essentially the most educated man within the council and for that and plenty of different causes, he was deeply revered.
He was a form and beneficiant man, all the time utilizing his assets for the great of the folks. The elders had begged him, again and again to just accept the crown and develop into king however he all the time declined. He believed true management wasn’t about titles however about service. Mazi Okonta was the sort of man who most popular to work within the background so long as peace reigned and his folks prospered.
However for all his achievements and blessings, Mazi Okonta lacked one factor: a male baby. He had three wives and eleven daughters. Although his daughters had been vivid and well-brought-up, he longed for a son, somebody to hold his identify when he joined his ancestors. The ache for a male inheritor consumed him extra with every passing yr. Hearsay had it that he even took his wives to a fertility physician within the metropolis, one famed for serving to {couples} conceive male youngsters however the outcomes remained the identical.
Then, Mazi Okonta started the seek for a fourth spouse. Each eligible lady within the village secretly wished to be chosen. In any case, Mazi Okonta took care of his wives like royalty. However he shocked everybody by selecting Sisi, my shut buddy.
Sisi was a younger widow, the one daughter of her mother and father and their third baby. Her husband, a hunter, had died after a protracted sickness. Not lengthy after, their solely son adopted. Many believed Mazi Okonta noticed in her the promise of male baby.
Sisi, for her half, noticed the proposal as a uncommon alternative. She was decided not simply to be a spouse however to be the mom of Mazi Okonta’s inheritor. Whereas I believed she had a pure likelihood of bearing him sons, Sisi didn’t need to take probabilities or maybe she was blinded by greed
“Determined conditions require determined measures,” she instructed me, the day she confided her plan to journey seven villages away to seek the advice of Okosisi, a famend native physician. I warned her. Sure, Okosisi was highly effective however his medication got here with penalties. However Sisi wouldn’t hear.
Okosisi promised her a male baby on two situations: the kid mustn’t ever go close to fireplace and he or she should quick for 3 days, consuming solely a spoonful of palm oil each three hours. Sisi agreed. It wasn’t a lot of a worth to pay for what she wished.
Months later, she gave start to a son. She named him Okonta Junior—OJ. Mazi Okonta was overjoyed. His dream had come true. Sisi grew to become his favorite spouse and he handled her like glass. In time, she bore him a daughter after which one other son. Nevertheless it was OJ who held his coronary heart.
Along with her new standing secured, Sisi started to alter. She wore her pleasure like a second pores and skin though she remained well mannered to me maybe out of concern, realizing I used to be conscious of her secret.
OJ was a vivid and curious baby. Although pampered and guarded, he longed to play freely like different youngsters. He longed to climb timber, roll within the sand, run barefoot. However his mom wouldn’t let him. The principles had been strict: no fireplace, no tough play.
Then someday, a chance got here. Mazi Okonta and his wives had travelled to the town for an essential occasion. With nobody watching, OJ joined the village youngsters. They performed hide-and-seek, chased one another by way of mango timber, and climbed the udara tree by the stream.
Then they determined to play “kitchen.” OJ’s job was to fan the hearth whereas others fetched cooking elements from their moms’ kitchens. However after they returned, OJ was gone. In his place was his garments and a big pool of palm oil close to the open flames.
Panic unfold.
The place was OJ? Who spilled the oil? The kids had been confused. The search started however OJ was nowhere to be discovered.
Hours later, the search social gathering returned to ship the information to Mazi Okonta and Sisi who had simply returned from their journey.
Chaos erupted. Sisi collapsed, wailing uncontrollably. It took relentless questioning earlier than she lastly confessed the whole lot… how she had gone to Okosisi, the situation about fireplace and the oil ritual. Everybody listened in shocked silence.
Mazi Okonta was damaged. The son he had so desperately wished had been born of juju and had melted into the very oil used to conceive him. The irony was merciless. He had missed the energy, brilliance and potential of his daughters in pursuit of a son.
Worse nonetheless, the complete village started to whisper: Have been Sisi’s different youngsters actual? Have been they regular? Might they be fabricated from oil too?
The disgrace grew to become insufferable. One morning, Sisi vanished leaving her two youngsters behind. Mazi Okonta took within the youngsters and raised them with care, regardless of the lingering questions. However one thing had modified in him. He not spoke of heirs or legacies. As a substitute, he poured his vitality into his daughters, instructing them the whole lot he knew and singing their praises to anybody who would hear. His daughters had managed his companies, earned respect and introduced him honour but he had by no means really seen them till the OJ incident.
In time, his daughters carried his identify farther than he ever imagined, changing into students, merchants and revered leaders. The neighborhood discovered from his story too. That the price of a kid isn’t of their gender however of their coronary heart and deeds.
And so, Mazi Okonta discovered, although painfully, that greatness isn’t reserved for sons. Typically, it’s hidden in plain sight—within the daughters we overlook and within the love we fail to spot.
