The communal clash (fiction)

It's been almost two decades since I last visited my town, situated in north-central Nigeria. The settlement has over a thousand residents, with elites coming in and out as time permits. The local residents' major occupation is farming due to the vast arable farmland in our territory. Our King, His Royal Highness, Ademola Akogun, is a descendant of warriors whose tales of bravery sent chills down our spines yet were capped with admiration. The victory tales of our kingdom, Alapa, had a shortcoming: the undefeated Alanamu community that shared a boundary with us on the western side of our town. Alanamu Community remained the only undefeated community surrounding us, and despite the bravery of men from our community, it stood fierce against us. Tales had it that the two communities were derived from and named after two blood brothers who fell apart as a result of a misunderstanding after conquering communities they waged war upon. The strife between the communities had degenerated into sire clashes from causes ranging from land disputes to market clashes over trivial matters.

It is the 21st century, and civilization has penetrated deep into each of our communities, yet the rivalry has sustained; perhaps the residents have become competitive. Being a fresh graduate from college, my ambition in life exceeded that of concerning myself with the communal clashes that existed between my community and the neighboring one. My dad was bestowed a chieftaincy title, and as the firstborn son, it was mandatory for me to be in attendance at the coronation ceremony.

My attire was the traditional Yoruba "agbada" with a matching cap; not my regular, but I was the Yoruba epitome. The ceremony was interesting and entertaining. I walked up to a nearby store to buy a chilled drink to quench my thirst, and a gorgeously dressed lady whose beauty mesmerized me caught my attention. Immediately, the adventurous boy in me came to life, and I sought every opportunity to spark a conversation with the chocolate-skinned girl, whose physique had my head spinning over.

"May I have the honor of buying the beautiful damsel a bottle of water?" I said to her, holding in my right hand a bottle of water I had picked from the fridge of the shop seller. She looked at me with a shocked expression before ameliorating her expression to that of a smile.

"That's kind of you, but I'm sorry to disappoint you." She said. "What if there is poison in it? I'm from your neighborhood town." She whispered, though audibly.

"I'll gladly overload you with a love portion if I have the means." I replied with a chuckle.

She turned to me properly. "Now we have the confession of..." She gestured with her two hands in the air.

"Akinola, but you can call me AK."

"Alright, Mr. AK, thank you, but no thanks." She spoke further and turned to face the palace space where the ceremony was held. It was not unusual to meet residents from neighboring communities; most came to trade, while others came to enjoy the show. My erratic heart gradually relaxed, and though the lady declined my kind gesture, I knew her negative response was a signal for me to try harder.

"Perhaps a date would be more appropriate, Milady?" I whispered into her ears after I gave her about a minute of silence. Her eyes widened as she turned to me a second time.

"Don't you give up, Akinola?"

"Well, The fact that you remember my name is enough reason for me to keep trying."

"I'll take the bottled water instead; a date with you would probably choke me with your piercing and unending talks."

"Ouch.... You just sliced my heart into two beautiful pieces, Miss..." I expected her to feed me with her name while I held my chest in demonstration of a pain in the heart.

"Perhaps you could just ask for my name rather than beat about the bush? Alapa people and their cunny attitudes," she said jokingly, her tongue lashing out at me.

"You know you look more beautiful when you pretend to want to attack me? I said, opening the cap of the bottled water for her.

"You are the true son of Alapa. It's nice to meet you; my name is Adeola."

"It's nice to meet you, ravishing Adeola."

"Nice try, AK; your attempt to woo me is getting an A grade."

"I do not mind sweeping you off your feet."

"Why not just sweep me yourself? She said this, bursting into laughter.

"When you're ready." I replied, standing close to her, my body touching hers gently as we watched the ceremony. I did not fail to notice the dimples that decorated her face whenever she smiled, which she did often.

Adeola and I exchanged contacts, and when we returned to the city, we had our first and numerous dates. Our friendship bloomed with every passing day; we literally became the best of friends. My parents were not too comfortable with Adeola when they knew she was from Alanamu, but I convinced them they had nothing to worry about.

After two years of blissful friendship with Adeola, I made my intention known to her, conscious of the fact that we had a storm to overcome.

---

"Not in my lifetime would you marry that girl; have you forgotten she's from Alanamu? Our blood cannot mix, nor should it be heard that our paths have crossed." My dad fumed. I didn't expect less, and I knew it was a battle I had to win first at home before going to the field.

"Mom, my decision is final. We cannot continue an enmity we're not responsible for." I said this to my mom after my dad stormed out of the house. My mom wore a worried look, but I was not ready to pull back.

"What would you have me do? This has never happened before, and your father is a traditionalist to the full." She spread her hands out at me.

"Mom, I'll marry Adeola, no matter what it takes." I said, leaving the house in anger.

The following days were difficult for me at home. My dad preferred not to talk to me and, at some point, threatened to disown me. My mother seemed to be the thread that held the family together, as she was often tossed between father and son.

source

After about 6 months of family tussle, my dad consented to my union with Adeola, which we held in the city, a quiet but peaceful marriage. The news of my union with Adeola could not be kept for too long beyond the ever-itchy ears of our communities, and both our parents faced castigation and reproach. My dad's chieftaincy title was to be withdrawn, but thankfully, the King upheld it.

For many years afterwards, my union with Adeola seemed to have fueled the rift that earlier existed; however, my son, Abiola, whom we had kept away from the spite of the two communities, became the governor of the state. Fate knocked on our door as both communities wanted to claim kinship with the governor. Abiola was the bridge between the communities, as he was prudent to draw both to him equally and on the condition of unity.

This is my entry to #hivelearners weekly prompt. It is fictional and inspired by resolution of community clashes.