CHAPTER TEN - AMARA.

“Am I a child that returns?” 

Oma asked meekly from the tree where she sat perched on a branch. 

“You know, now that you mention it, I can definitely see it.” 

Nkem answered her. He was bent over a heap of firewood, his bare ankles covered in beads, was skinny on a thin frame. He moved noiselessly, his feet missing twigs and dead plants as if they were trained to. From where she was hanging, Oma looked at him with wild, beady eyes. 

“What? Don’t look at me like that. Only children of the other world have the audacity that flows through you. Look at you on that tree, letting your elders do all the work. Tell me that is not a behaviour of the otherworldly.” 

Oma dropped a mango on his head, it bounced off his clean-shaven head and landed with a thud by his feet. 

“Don’t tease her like that, Nkem. And you.” 

Amara said, pointing a thick stick at her sister. Come down here already, mother will not be happy if you bring home those mangoes, she will know it meant you were gathering them rather than the firewood.” 

Oma pouted and shook her head. She pulled herself up, her wrapper riding up even higher on her tiny legs, and, using her legs as momentum, leaped off the tree, sailing through the air and landing perfectly on her feet in a crunching position. 

“I am serious, Amara, I keep hearing whispers, and then there are the tattoos and markings on my face, they only give those to spirit children.” 

Amara paused another wood in her hand. She had trained her ears to listen to her sister truly. Oma got in trouble so much that it was easy to dismiss her when she was hurting, because she could act invincible, like she was afraid to be vulnerable. 

“You did not come to this on your own, did you?” 

Amara asked Oma. If reflectiveness was not a strong suit of her sister’s, if this was bothering her, it must have come from the outside. Oma shook her head, her untameable hair shaking with the action.  

“You asked Mama and Mother before, remember? Your marking was because the midwife had assumed you were a child who had returned. You looked exactly like our late sister, and she was supposedly one who returned as well. But the midwife was wrong about her, and she was wrong about you. End of story.” 

There was a finality in Amara’s voice that stopped Oma from badgering her with more questions. Even adults had started to listen when Amara spoke. She had a command about her for a girl of eleven. 

“Besides, children that return are usually marked by their unearthly beauty, going by that alone, you fail that...” 

“Complete that statement if you want to die.” 

Oma shouted at Nkem, and he looked at her defiantly in the eyes. His tall, skinny frame should have made him look weak, but it didn’t. He still stared Oma down, his bony, bare shoulders shrugging. 

“You are too ugly to be a child of the other world.” 

He told her, seconds before he took to his heels. His legs, all ankles, hit the earth as he ran, Oma hot on his tail. 

“I will kill you, pray to our personal gods that I don't catch you.” 

Oma yelled as she chased after him. The forest watched them, cheering them on. Leaves waved, rustled by the noisy breeze of a never-still forest. Birds sang unbothered, in the distance, hidden by the covering of tall trees. Rabbits, hares, and squirrels watched enthralled. Chasing after each other was what they did. These humans were stealing their thing. 

Oma's grappling finally succeeded in taking hold of Nkem’s shoulder. This time, when he tried to wiggle away, she anticipated it, throwing herself on him; she wrestled him to the ground. 

“This means I am doing all the work again.” 

Amara said resignedly to no one in particular, over the shrieking of her sibling and cousin. 

“Tap out!” 

Oma yelled. 

“Never!” 

Nkem yelled back. Amara considered telling on them to her mother, just so that they could never watch another wrestling match ever again. The thought of consequences for her sister made her smile. She looked over at them and sighed. Bending over, she started a second bundle of firewood, this one for Oma. A consistent shrieking of variations of ‘tap out’ and the refusal to, followed her around as she moved to find and gather woods for her sister, she would also be arranging her cousin's into a pile afterwards, she could already tell, those two when they are locked in, would not surrender until external intervention, but Amara was ready to let them sweat it out this time, they had to grow up at some point. Hoping that they would remember they had to be home before the sun walked across to the other end of the sky, she tutted in the general direction of the wrestling duo. The sun started to shine in earnest, as if it had heard Amara’s thoughts. Mid-afternoon, Amara thought as she looked up to the sky, her hand shielding her from the glare. Returning to the task at hand, she ignored the ‘ahhh’ from one of the wrestlers. Nkem had managed to pin Oma down and was yelling for her to tap out. Oma was calling to her now for help, but she knew the drill: acknowledge them and get sucked in, and then return home later than she should, only to get yelled at by both Mma and Mother. Not today, she thought, as she judiciously completed her sister’s firewood pile.