A Destiny Thrown

Take him away, he said. "Dad, you can't be serious. It's just a stupid old relic. You are going to let them lock me up for some stupid ancient animal skeleton??", I replied. That stupid old relic was supposed to be your destiny. You have no idea what you've done.

That was the last thing my father said to me, or so I thought. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Him sitting in his leather chair, wearing that brooks brothers suit I so much hate, and that godforsaken shoe that he hadn't once changed in fifteen months. I remember how in his tantrum he had sent the glass of wine he was holding across the room, punching a hole through the Van Gogh painting that he had bought at auction two years before. Even now, the smell of his marigold-scented cologne still lingered in my throat.

On the cold, jagged floor of what has come to be my home for the next five years, I sat down. With the thin stripe of foam on the bunks, I have come to learn the floor was no less comfortable. The package I now held in my hand had arrived two days ago. It had been a year since he passed and even from the grave, he wanted to have the last say and laugh.

Dear Son, how best shall I start? What you are about to hear from this journal will leave you dumbfounded and leave you wishing for those days when I forced you to bone through law school. Howbeit, it has to be told.

This is a story that started 600years ago. In what is today's Ekpoma town, Edo state, Nigeria, there lies a town that gave the British colonialists no end of trouble in those days of colonialism. The British had conquered all the surrounding lands, but for some mysterious reason, whenever they sent forces to this town, they all but disappeared. This repeated itself until the Crown commissioned an investigation into the cause.

Your ancestors were amongst the first to learn the English language. One of your ancestors was sent with a group to covertly learn the secret of the town. Having been there for six months and having become part of the community, the British launched another expedition. When the town scouts reported an advancing force of British soldiers, the people laughed and made merry as the chief headed inside his palace.

On his return, he had a certain bone in his hand. Your ancestor would later learn that it was the bone that protected the heart of a certain beast of nature. The villager claimed it had the frame of what we call a T.Rex today, the head of a lion and the fury of a dragon. They killed it 400years prior. As he and his group watched, the chief played a melodious tune through the hollow of the bone, and the townsfolk danced to reckless abandon. When the fanfare came to a halt, the chief made a wish and it was so unto him. " I wish death and disappearance on all our enemies making a move on us now, and let their riches become ours" and it was so.

Just over a little under half a kilometre, they saw men die, fall to the ground and disappear, but not their horses, armament, apparel or other belongings. I know what you want to say, but it is what it is. It was a literal wishbone. A week after, at what passed for a bar, the drunken son of the chief boasted of how he was going to use the bone to consume the brits and all the lands that surrounded the town, till the end of the world.

On the night of that day, the group plotted to steal it from the chief and return it to their master. Your ancestor had other ideas. Not trusting the Brits himself, he aligns with two others in the group to steal the bone and keep it for themselves and so they did. But knowing its powers, they knew they couldn't let it fall into the wrong hands. So, they bound it to themselves and their generation by using the services of a witch to put a curse on their constant misfortune of themselves till the end of time. This curse can only be paused, not broken ever.

The curse will not hold them or theirs as long as they keep watch over the bone and they do not wish evil from the bone. As long as they kept the bone from doing evil, they will prosper to no end.

Not long after, the Brits took the village, came to the knowledge of the wishbone and hunted the three of them. They would succeed in killing the other two. Your ancestor would find a way to escape the continent and travel here, where he built a whole new life with a new identity. Since then it has been passed down to the firstborn from one generation to the other and we have kept it safe….till that day.

I don't know how came to the knowledge of that safe, or how you bypassed it, but when you dishonoured that bone by selling it like a piece of art, you Lost your birthright to it. You threatened the existence of our entire family. I was forced to disown you, so your brother becomes the firstborn. He has inherited your destiny if you are reading this. On my deathbed, I leave you this. I wanted you to understand. I never stopped loving you. It was the way you made it to be. Now, I'm tempted to say I told you to say. Have a good life son.

I couldn't help the laughter. Even in death, he kept his humour. I laughed and cried all night, just wishing for what could have been. But so my fate was sealed.

This article was first posted on hive by me