The Witness of Usehjiki

Dr. Mowung was an elderly, stout man with a wooden walking stick, standing outside his office at the University of Osekoni. He waited for them to drive in, watching Ifiso with stern but focused eyes as she attempted to maneuver the big truck into the available parking space.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” Osa said, getting out of the car with a limp as Toso helped her.

“What happened?” he asked. “Egong nu mana?” Where is your mother?

Toso sniffed.

“She is dead,” Ifiso said bluntly. Osa held on as Toso cringed beside her. Osa loved Ifiso, but sometimes she just wished Ifiso would curb her sharp tongue.

Dr. Mowung shook his head, making a quiet “tsk tsk tsk” sound as he walked into the building. The women followed him down the corridor to the last office where a big gate stood open, against a peeling, grey wall.

“I asked your father not to do this. I told him Seneseba would never forgive.”

“We were trying to release her,” Osa said as she was carefully dropped on a brown couch in the office.

Dr. Mowung leaned on his desk. Just like Mana’s own office at the University, Dr. Mowung’s was crawling with open books and scattered journals. But in addition to that, there were student manuscripts littered all over, as well. Osa wondered how he got anything done with all the mess.

“Don’t make it sound as if you were doing her a favor,” he said. “Your two older sisters died before forty. Just like your father’s brother. Just like their mother. Your mother was scared that one of you would follow. Which one of you was it? Who was the key bearer?”

Osa raised her hand.

“Hmm. So, you’re the oldest?” he asked.

“By eight minutes,” Ifiso said.

“I’ll tell you what I told your parents. Waking the witness will never ease her suffering.”

“But we didn’t do anything wrong,” Toso said. “Mana didn’t do anything wrong.”

Osa squeezed Toso’s hand as the tears reappeared.

“The witness has borne the weight of your family’s prosperity for five hundred years. Your ancestors did this to her and because you have benefitted from their actions, you will bear the consequences as well.”

“What can we do? How can we appease her?” Ifiso asked.

Dr. Mowung shook his head.

“There’s no way to appease her.”

“There must be a way.”

He clutched his walking stick and watched them carefully.

“Much like today, Usehjiki of old operated under the guiding hand of the four governing clans. Usop in Usobo. The Izeh in Izecha. The Elheji in Elhiji. And your family, Oseki, in Osekoni.” He stood up and walked around the table to a shelf of old, tattered books with torn spines. “The four of them fought over the smallest of things. But they were the biggest and the richest and so commoners couldn’t do anything but pick sides and fight, as well.”

“You make them sound petty, Sir,” Ifiso said.

“My dear child, you cannot still be holding on to the divinity of your ancestors. I’d have thought your Mana taught you better.”

Ifiso opened her mouth to speak but Osa held her hand and camped down, causing Ifiso to look back at her sister.

“Other kingdoms with more unified leadership took advantage of the in-fighting,” Dr. Mowung continued searching his shelf. “Usehjiki was rich in resources and tradeable wealth, but things got so bad that outsiders were benefiting more than our people.” He pulled out one of the books. “So, they came together and agreed that they needed to stay unified. They needed to work together. And to do this, they had to make a way for someone to transcend the normal passing of time.”

“They needed a witness,” Osa said.

“Yes. Someone present when the unification occurred and someone who would be there for all eternity.” He opened the book and searched from page to page. “They took a commoner and sanctified her to all the gods and set her apart. She became the wisest and the strongest and the truest form of what Usehjiki was ever meant to be. She soaked up knowledge and information like a sponge.”

He gave Osa the book with the open page. On it, there was a drawing of a naked girl. She had an oversized head and a skinny body. Her hair was a wild, black mane. The lines were carved in Jiki abstraction, in the way the ancestors used to draw with sharp edges that were made from the chisels used on walls.

“Every year, a slave was sacrificed to the witness. She took the essence and flesh of the slave and fused it into her own just so she could live for one more year. But then, five hundred years ago, the four families of Usehjiki fell on hard times. Because of the oath of unification, they could not steal from or kill one another. So, they set upon the witness. They de-sanctified her and welded her essence into four keys that they used to lock her away. Don’t you see? This is why she will not be appeased.”

“But we saved her.”

“The witness developed a habit of imbibing a human every year. Right now, she is owed five hundred sacrifices and she will not rest until she gets them. Would you care to guess who the first sacrifices will be?”

Osa stared at the picture of a harmless-looking, young woman.

“Us,” Osa said. “The blood of her enemies. The four clans.”

“Exactly,” he said.

“If we can’t appease her, how do we defeat her?” Ifiso asked.

“Turn the page back,” he said.

Osa opened to the previous page where she saw a whole new diagram. There were writings on the side attached to what looked like instructions for a ceremony. The witness was at the center of the diagram, kneeling. But at the four corners of the page, there were four human caricatures. Osa recognized the four names: Usop, Elheji, Izeh, and Oseki. On top of each caricature’s head, there was a key.

“What is this?” Toso asked, leaning over the book.

“It’s the ritual of the keys,” Ifiso said, eying Dr. Mowung in bewilderment. “Are you saying we have to lock her back?”

“If you don’t want to die today or tomorrow, you have to find a way to put the witness back.”

“Wait,” Toso said, sitting up. “We’ll be forty years old next year. If we put the witness back, Osa will die.”

“All you have to do is keep the key away from your sister and she’ll live.”

“Yes, but what will happen to our family if the key isn’t bound to anyone? Won’t we lose everything?”

The three women looked at Dr. Mowung, awaiting his answer.

“You three are all that is left of your entire clan. My advice is that you go out there and try to live your lives to the fullest, like the rest of us. Grow old, have families if you want, travel, see the world,” he said. “Or you can choose power and money, by sacrificing your sister’s life,” he said. “Either way, it’s your choice.”