TALO: An African Love Story

By Akpoebi Nora Ojeke

Anyone looking for a romantic story set in Africa and fitted with the colourful accessories of culture, should read Talo. The tale has real and lovable characters, scenes that are so vivid and a plot that will entertain minds that crave a great story. For a first-time narrative, Nora has excelled and readers are guaranteed a jolly ride into skilful depths of creativity.

-Ify Omeni, the Tale Weaver and bestselling author of Wind of Change and Song at Sunrise -


Life is beautiful in the small, vibrant, African village of Zentua, a proud ebony race that fully embraces the love of its culture and traditions. The Omilo family is highly respected by all. Omilo is a great warrior and highly sought after by all the maidens. Omilo has eyes for only his youngest wife, Talo and the villagers envy the love that exists between them.
When tragedy strikes, the villagers have to confront unexpected events. Will the Omilo family and the entire village overcome the changes that arise, to disrupt their once peaceful lives?
Talo is a cultural story of love, courage, perseverance and the unpredictability of life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9781312950160

Book preview

TALO:

An African Love Story

Akpoebi Nora Ojeke

TALO: An African Love Story

Copyright © 2023 Akpoebi Nora Ojeke

ISBN: 978-1-312-95016-0

All rights reserved

Designed & published in Nigeria by

TEBEBA Global Publishing Ltd.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or any other without the prior written permission of the author or publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, languages, places except England, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The author has used moons and years interchangeably, to describe the passage of time. In this novel, moon refers to a time period, from a few months to a quarter of a year.

Talo - An African Love Story/ novel/romance

PUBLISHER’S CONTACT:

www.tebeba.com

[e-mail]

TABLE OF CONTENT

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Glossary

Dedication

To his steel grey eyes

Small pink lips

Lovely and innocent face

And toothless gums

My little baby nephew, Aaron.

I wrote this dedication in March 2001, when I finished typing the first draft of this book. I was at the university at the time and I had spent some time babysitting my nephew during my holidays. It happened that I wrote this book in the three months I stayed with my sister and her family. Since it’s taken over 20 years to finally publish my first book, I would like to write another dedication:

You have always been there

Holding my hands

Reading and discussing my stories with me

Encouraging me to live my dreams

I am enjoying life’s journey with you

We are forging new paths together

My childhood sweetheart and husband

My Love, Biboye.

Acknowledgements

First, I would like to thank God – the Giver of talents and gifts and the Source of my weird and yet creative imagination. Thank you, LORD, for grace and the gift of life.

Thanks to all my siblings, Funebi, who typed my first book (it was a big deal at the time), Ebi, Janet, Fredrick, Ebiarede and all their respective spouses. The fact is, I was like that girl who had a lot of dads. They were always available to listen and give me sound advice. I have serenaded every one of you with my stories at different times in the past and you all patiently listened and read my books. Thanks for making me feel special and loved.

I have a whole bunch of nephews and nieces, Anita, Cynthia, Wesley, Kelvin, Emmanuel, Daniel, and Ebose, who enjoyed my storytelling at different stages of their growth. I was that crazy aunt who would always catch their interest with drawings and cartoons.

I have to mention most of my friends and colleagues who followed me on my writing journey, from my school days, to others I met at later stages of my life, who were rooting for me.

Obraori, you have been on this journey with me the longest, right from secondary school.

Lolade, my darling friend, you would call me to find out how many pages I had written at any given day. You were the first person to read my draft and I loved the excitement and sincerity with which you gave me feedback, to make this book even better.

My book club ladies and friends, Chantal, Bidemi, Chinenye, Deri, Ogee, Nurah, Peter and Somime. I know I haven’t been too dedicated, but you’re all amazing.

Abraham, thanks so much for getting half of my manuscript typed, in a push to get me started. Though it took me another five years to finally get this out.

Gogo, you read my book at a very short notice, with so much excitement and gave very clear and important suggestions. Thanks so much for your time.

Thanks to my supportive family, my loving husband and kids. To my exceptionally talented daughter, Doubra, who always encourages me to never give up on my dreams. My wonderful boy, Joshua, you are every mother’s dream son.

I want to also thank my dad, Elder M.B Mieyebo, for bringing me up in an academic environment. I found myself gravitating to the school libraries and classes to read and write my stories. That was just the right place to stir up my creative juices.

To my editor, Ify Omeni, of Touch of Gold Media Limited, for your dedication in bringing this book to life.

A big thank you to the CEO of Tebeba Publishing, Mr Emmanuel Olatunji, for his encouragement in getting my first novel published. I wouldn’t have been able to get this out, if not for your supportive words and advice. God bless you.

Finally, to all my supportive friends and readers out there. You all are too numerous to mention. I thank every one of you.

Prologue

How can one tell a riveting tale that has been repeated over time? A tale that has been passed down from one generation to another and slightly altered from its original form. I could try to weave this tale in my own way, but I will need the help of the reader to achieve this. Try to give wings to your imagination and let it fly deep into the dark recesses of your mind.

Allow the darkness brighten up a bit to let in some colours. Look around you and see tall trees with their massive leaves bowing to the gentle breeze. Imagine you are standing in a field with a huge expanse of green grass, as far as the eyes can see. Visualize the lovely blends of flowers, flourishing with bursts of colours that take your breath away. Close your eyes and inhale the lovely scent of wild tropical flowers, enveloping your senses.

Listen to the soft sound of water dancing over rocks, as it leads to a crystal-clear magnificent stream cutting across the field to a huge waterfall. The cry of the African cockatoo bird can be heard above the roaring sound of the rushing water crashing down to the rocks below. You look up beyond the tall trees to see the blue skies above. The sky is filled with birds clothed in lovely red and yellow plumage, flying in an orderly line across the jungle. You hear a soft growl and turn around to see a lion. The king of the jungle has no interest in you, so don’t be afraid. It stalks an unsuspecting antelope. Close your eyes if you will, as it pounces on its prey and carries it off victoriously for a feast. Unaware of your presence, the jungle is alive with the cries of the animals as you watch them in their natural state, being wild and free.

If you look closely at the darkest section of the jungle, you would see the shadowy forms of a man and a woman locked in a passionate embrace. Legend says they were the first people who lived in the jungles of Africa, and their names were Amirim and Akula. Amirim’s dark soft skin shone radiantly and it contrasted beautifully with the cherry redness of her pouting lips. Her long, black, silky hair trailed from her slender shoulders, to her well-rounded breasts and hips and down to the jungle floor, sweeping away all in its path. Her eyes shone like kalata, the stars and people said her gaze could freeze you in your path if you came into the jungle with malicious intent. Her voice was soft and melodious, filling one with deep desire and longing when she sang. Beware! It was said that her sweet, gentle voice could turn to a piercing scream that could destroy anyone within miles of hearing distance, when she felt threatened.

Akula towered above the tallest trees, possessed great strength and a burly physique and could pull giant trees straight off the ground with ease. Despite his broad chest and muscled arms glistening beneath his ebony skin, he had the kindest smile that could set anyone at ease. That handsome face could easily change to unrestrained anger, if Amirim was faced with any form of danger. Everyone knew not to test his strength. They both stood tall and graceful and side by side ruled the jungle in peace for many years. They had several children who overtime scattered into different tribes. These tribes are now known by different names – Sako, Ekoni, Zentua, Chalo, Fanato, Kanilo, Omasa and so many others, forming different villages in the depths of the jungle.

Yet the tale I am about to weave for you is centred on the Zentua tribe – a proud race of ebony-skinned people. This is a tale of love, where Amirim and Akula are regarded as gods, long after their deaths. Their stories have become myths told to young children under the watchful gaze of the moonlight. A lot can happen, as you will find within the pages of this book, under the blue skies, in the jungles of Africa.

1

Omilo stretched and yawned as he stood up from his wooden bed. He came out of his hut and looked around his massive compound as he thought of how much he had been blessed by Amirim and Akula. He walked around the huge expanse of his frontage, enjoying the morning breeze, watching two of his wives, Kacho and Kachifo, moving about, doing their morning chores. There was a strict plan for preparation of the meals, supervising the older children to clean the compound and working on the farm. Everyone followed the plan and this ensured that the household was always peaceful.

Sinatu, my lord, hailed his eldest wife, Kacho, as he passed by. She was a tall, calm and robust woman who provided him the right stability in his youth. She played her role as the mother of the family very well and his other wives and children respected her.

Sinatu, my Kacho, he replied affectionately, giving her a pat on the back, which was the Zentuan man’s sign of acknowledgement of a wife’s presence, while she knelt before him. Kacho had given him three strong sons, Menu, Ketu and Yakung.

He watched as they came out of their mother’s hut chorusing, Sinatu, Father.

Sinatu, my children, he replied, looking at his first son, Menu, who was fast growing into a man. Although tall and lean-looking, Menu was a very hardworking young man. As he turned away from them, his second wife, Kachifo came out just then with her suckling child, Saosao, who at the moment was crying hysterically, trying to get at her breasts. Kachifo was light-skinned, and he had wooed her by calling her the ‘sun that brightens my world.’

Sinatu, my lord, she said and knelt down. He patted her back, calling her his sunny-faced one. Kachifo had given birth to his daughter, Amirata, who was presently sweeping the huge compound –a part of her morning chores. Omilo had a soft spot for Amirata. She was a very sweet child. His eyes scanned the compound, as if he was looking for something. A cloud of worry came over him, and he turned to Kachifo.

Where is Talo? he asked, on noticing that his third and last wife was nowhere to be seen.

She went to Acharo to pluck some leaves for your morning meal, Kachifo replied, while nursing the baby. Omilo smiled as he thought of how his last wife went to great lengths to please him. As he walked towards the big wooden gate, guarding the entrance to the compound, he called out to his favorite son. Ketu cheerfully ran to his father’s hut and brought out his three-legged stool, called azu, and placed it in front of him.

Omilo sat down on the azu and brought out a nut, called ato, which was neatly folded in his wrapper, and chewed on it. The ato nut, though bitter, was highly revered by the children of Amirim and Akula. It was traditionally used for prayers for households and as a symbol of peace and solidarity, when offered to visitors. He spat on the soft earth as he ate it, calling on Amirim and Akula to bless his family this morning, now and always. With that morning ritual over, he handed one of the nuts to Ketu, who was watching him closely. He took the nut excitedly and thanked his father. Ketu knew that the nut was eaten only by elders and his father had shown how special he was, by letting him eat it. He made his other brothers jealous whenever he told them about it, especially Menu, who felt it was his right to be given the ato, since he was approaching manhood.

Omilo thought about his sons. They were growing up fast and showing signs of being lanky like him, but were so different in character. Menu, the eldest, was very withdrawn, calm and even-tempered, and half the time, Omilo was at a loss as to what was going on in his mind. Ketu, his immediate younger brother was always working hard to please his father. He was never far from Omilo and tried to copy everything his father did. Yakung was his mother’s favorite and was always playing around and teasing the other children. Although Menu was very hardworking, Omilo preferred Ketu, who was quite curious about the Zentuan tradition and always ran after him, carrying his azu.

He pointed at a huge tree and spoke, with a smile on his face. See that, Ketu?

Yes, Father, Ketu replied, looking at Omilo’s face, and observing that his father had started showing tell-tale signs of aging, although he was still broad-chested, muscled, and very tall.

That is the amileko tree, from which the foolish tortoise fell and cracked his shell in many places.

Why did the tortoise fall? Ketu asked, curiously.

Omilo laughed and cleared his throat. Oh, my son, it is a long story. It was as a result of his cunning. He thought he could fly like the birds and eat the food meant for the birds in the air, as well as the ones on the ground.

Oh, greedy tortoise! He has not finished the one on the ground left for us, by Amirim and Akula, Ketu said, laughing. He noticed that his father didn’t respond and followed his gaze to see Talo walking into the compound, from a distance. He liked Talo. She was very playful with all the children. He also knew she was his father’s favorite. He turned his gaze back to his father to watch his reaction.

Omilo stared intently at his approaching wife. Her movements were so graceful and always had the same effect on him – almost hypnotizing with each step and sway of her hips. Even from a distance, her skin glowed with the shine of the sweet-smelling leaf that the women in the village used to rub themselves. Everyone knew she was the prettiest girl in the village and he felt proud to be her husband. He had wrestled Amaleke, the village champion, to get her attention during the moonlight dance. He never wrestled again after that, because she was enough to keep him at home. Although he loved her, he tried to hide the intensity of his feelings for her, so as not to annoy his other wives. He rebuked her in their presence when he had to, but they made up afterwards in his hut, when the sun went down.

Talo did not take advantage of his affection for her, even though she noticed it, which made him love and respect her even more. Unlike her, Kachifo would have used this opportunity to the peak, demanding for wrappers, beads and other feminine things, if given the chance, he mused to himself. He forced these things on Talo, which she dutifully accepted, but she didn’t crave for them like other women did. He knew what troubled her, what she dreamed and prayed for every waking moment.

Amirim had not yet made her fruitful in the years he had been married to her and she bore it during the day with such grace that it would seem she was not troubled. She carried out her duties normally, playing with her mates’ children and bringing joy to the Omilo compound. Yet, sometimes, at night, in his arms, she would weep bitterly and refuse to tell him why, although he begged her to do so. He knew she wept for lack of a child to call her own, but he believed that Amirim would give her one in due season.

Her konka jingled on her swaying hips, as she approached her lord, smiling seductively with that gap in her upper teeth. When she drew closer, she knelt before him. As she looked up at him, he could see the tiny beads of sweat forming on her well-shaped brows. He watched as the sweat trickled down the sides of her neck to the crevice between her breasts, held firmly together by a colourfully designed Zentuan wrapper that ended just at her knees. The konka on her waist held the wrapper together and made her look even shapelier. It did not take much of an effort for Talo to be attractive.

Sinatu, my lord, she said, smiling in her sweet manner.

Sinatu, my little ami. This endearment was a great praise among the Zentuan tribe. It meant that her beauty almost equalled that of Amirim herself. She giggled happily and Omilo turned to Ketu.

You can go inside now, Son.

But Father, you have not finished telling me…

Run, before I beat some sense into you. Can you not see I am discussing with my Talo?

Oh Talo, you have stopped Father from telling me this wonderful story, Ketu said, laughing mischievously, as he ran into the compound.

Omilo stood up and helped Talo bring down the basket on her head. He could perceive the spicy, sweet smell of the Acharo leaves. He pointed to a position close to the azu and she sat down, as he lovingly patted her back.

I wish it was night already, my ami.

You were with your first wife last night, my lord. I am sure you are satisfied.

He gave a scowl. "Satisfied indeed! When she wrestles with me like Ano