Chapter One

1842

Daaji Kingdom,

Fukabi Empire.

Eniola sat by the well, looking at the deep journey that her fetcher had taken and knowing that she would never be able to recover it. Her eyes welled up with tears, ignoring those around her. She had saved up a week’s worth of profit from the sales of vegetables to be able to buy her own fetcher, because borrowing from the neighbours had become frustrating, and water needed to be fetched to achieve almost everything. Her guardian didn’t see the need to refrain from using the general one attached to the well, but Eniola was like a princess, she hated to share or to wait.

“There is no point sitting there, teary, you can use the general fetcher to get your water or go to the stream the way we used to do before King Chatta pitied us and approved that we could finally have a well, like his people.” Mama Lekan said, but it didn’t lessen Eniola’s pain. She had been fetching water side by side with the woman when her son, Lekan suddenly appeared from behind the trees and shouted her name. Eniola was startled, her hold on the fetcher loosened and it slipped. She had almost followed it in a bid to get it back, if not for Babatunde, Lekan’s friend who came with him. Babatunde had pulled her by the waist and they had both fallen to the ground. Eniola had protested the help, pushing him back. If not for his firm grip, they would have both fallen into the well.

“Eniola, calm down!” Babatunde struggled to speak calmly, his heart racing from the near-death experience, and the pleasure of holding Eniola in his arms. Since she turned sixteen, he had been infatuated with her, but she had held him at bay. No man was allowed to come close to her. The only male she had conversations with, was her guardian and Lekan, who was practically her twin brother, since they grew up together as next door neighbours living in the same hut. Even though Babatunde was three years older than both of them, he had swiftly become friends with Lekan to ensure easy access to Eniola. It was because of him that Lekan screamed Eniola’s name. They had placed a bet to see if her face would light up when she looked up and saw Babatunde, but they must have gone too far, because she lost her fetcher instead.

“Thank you,” Eniola said to Babatunde and turned her face briefly towards Lekan to show her irritation about what he had caused. She went back to sit by the well, struggling to keep the tears from falling.

“I am sorry,” Lekan apologised, but Eniola ignored him.

At age 21, she had great plans for what her life should be and all the awesome things she should have achieved, but she was stuck here, in Daaji Kingdom where she was born into captivity. Her parents were brought here when she was still in her mother’s belly and both her father and mother had died before she was five years old. They had not survived the horrors of captivity.

Eniola was raised as a Fukabi captive, growing up with other children and many of her people who were taken right under the nose of the Alaafin of the Odumorin Kingdom. However, she remained a Yoruba girl at heart. In Daaji kingdom, there were many people of many nations, who were captured from different cities of Wazobia to populate and farm its land, and were allowed to practise their culture as long as they adhered to all the rules of Daaji, and did not openly go against the instructions of the King.

Naturally, there would have been war after the mass captivity of the Odumorin people, because its Alaafin was a fierce warrior who had never been defeated before that time. However, he had been all too willing to let the Christians in his land be captured. They had been a thorn in his flesh, refusing to join in festivals and bow down to Ifa, Esu, and Orunmila, the gods of the land. They claimed that there was only one true God, and He sent His son Jesus to die on the cross of Calvary to atone for their sins. As far as he was concerned, they were a disgrace, and they were not worth fighting for, even this new God they betrayed his land to serve was a coward too, who died on a cross instead of fighting back. If He was so powerful, He would have saved Himself, and if they chose to follow Him, then they must share the fate of this Jesus before they corrupted the other people in the land.

All her life, the only ray of hope had been the faith they all shared, that soon, a new king would ascend the throne of Odumorin, who would come to rescue them all from Daaji. That hope was gradually waning to a faint desire. No one really believed that they would ever be rescued, so they all lived from hand to mouth, constantly fighting for survival.

When they noticed that Eniola was not in the mood to be consoled, her companions at the well left her, and it made her feel slightly guilty. She considered herself one of the lucky ones in the community. She had an uncle, her father’s younger brother who adopted her after her parents’ death. They only had each other as family and her uncle, Madeyo, hadn’t changed this by getting married or having children. It would seem that he couldn’t be bothered about building a family in exile. He had a job as one of the security guards at the Daaji Kingdom palace, a position that gave him access to information that could help his people, and enough money to survive with his niece, Eniola.

Madeyo’s plan was to keep Eniola hidden from every possible harm, and to avoid her being noticed, because she had grown up to become a lady of unusual beauty, who turned heads everywhere she went. As captives, they were not slaves and could move freely. However, they were still highly susceptible to the whims and dictates of citizens and high officers in Daaji. Any idiot could fancy himself interested in Eniola and order her brought to amuse him, ruining her forever. Therefore, he restricted her to Oye, the neighbourhood allocated to the Yoruba captives.

After many years of constantly whining, tired of confinement and house chores, Eniola begged her uncle, Madeyo, to give her permission to learn a trade or start selling something in the market, but he refused. He claimed that she could do all that whenever they had been rescued and allowed to go back to Odumorin Kingdom. Eniola had been worried, and had prayed daily to God to touch her uncle’s heart. She didn’t want to be useless. She wanted her life to mean something, she needed a purpose, and since her uncle was not listening, she went to God.

God answered her prayers! Madeyo, as part of the benefits of a recent promotion as one of the palace guards, secured a stall in Oye Market that could be allotted to his wife to sell wares. Madeyo didn’t have a wife, yet he did not want to lose the stall, so he gave it to Eniola, but ensured she sold what only women came to the market to buy, to prevent her from having access to any man and that worked perfectly.

It was now one month since Eniola became a market woman, and she was barely breaking even. She did not have enough capital to grow the business, so her profit margin was extremely low. The only item she had been able to save up to buy was this fetcher that had now become lost in the well, and for the life of her, she didn’t know how to retrieve it.

“Why does life have to be so cruel? Why was I born in captivity? Why is Uncle Madeyo so strict and rigid, not allowing me to make friends and socialise? Why is my life so dull and unexciting? Why can’t I simply be content? Why do I want more from life?”

Eniola asked all these questions as a whisper into the well, tears running down her face. She wiped them away with the back of her hands, hoping that no one would stumble on her and catch her showing weakness.

Be anxious for nothing, but in prayer and supplication, make your request known unto God.

Eniola smiled sadly as these words dropped on her heart.

“I have prayed to the Lord. I keep praying daily. My people are always praying. We need your help. We want to go back home, Lord.”

Even though Eniola had never been to her own people’s land to compare what her life would be like in both places, she imagined that there would be freedom, and that her life would have purpose.

For I know the plans I have towards you, says the Lord. They are thoughts of good, and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.

“What future, Lord? What hope?”

But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of sea, blown and tossed by the sea.

Eniola sighed, wiping the tears off her eyes.

“What path do you have for me Lord? I want to serve. I want to matter. I don’t want to be preserved for nothing, marking time and going nowhere.”

The path of the just shines brighter and brighter, until the perfect day, wait for it, don’t be weary.

Looking down at the well at what she had lost was enough to make her weary, even without the issues that lay on her mind. So she took her face away, facing the direction of the palace where her uncle was.

“God, please make a way where there seems to be no way. You work in ways I cannot see, but I know that all things can work for my good if I believe You. So, I will not worry like those who have no God. Even now, at this minute, I believe You are working things out in my favour. Please help me not to be too foolish and impatient, that I miss it.”

Eniola was still praying when she saw people running towards Oye from the palace area. Some were laughing, others were worried, and soldiers were chasing them away. She fought the strong temptation to go and ask people what was going on, and won. Very swiftly, Eniola picked up her half full bucket and ran towards their hut, confident that Uncle Madeyo would tell her what happened later that night.

Daaji Palace,

One hour Later

Azari couldn’t sit down. He paced the palace, rolling his eyes and swearing intermittently.

It was rare to see the king in this position where he seemed hopeless, confused, and furious at the same time.

“Please calm down, Your Highness!” Chief Kazeel called out, and was silenced by the face of the king who scowled, rolled his eyes and looked away. His young, handsome face became fierce whenever he was angry.

No one knew what to say anymore, and the words on the lips of the other chiefs dried up before they could voice their opinion.

The feast that had barely begun had ended unceremoniously.

King Azari had organised a feast to celebrate his one-year reign on the throne of his father today, by presenting his queen-to-be, Vabifat. This was the practice in Fukabi kingdom. The prince was not allowed to take a wife until he was twenty-five years old. In the case where the king died and the prince ascended the throne of his fathers below the agreed age, he must rule for one year before he married his queen.

Azari had been twenty-three years old when his father, King Chatta died last year. No one had expected Chatta to die when he did, as he was a living legend just approaching his sixtieth year. In the twenty-seven years of Chatta’s reign, he was notorious as the most powerful king in the continent. He took many citizens of other kingdoms as captives to develop Daaji land, and stole many others to become slaves that were sold to other strong kingdoms and the rich people in his kingdom. This made Chatta very rich, and by implication, Azari inherited a lot of influence and wealth from his father.

King Azari never understood his father’s violence, and was constantly rebuked by Chatta as a bastard. Many wondered if he was indeed the son of his father, because Azari hated disputes, confrontation, and violence. In fact, it was commonly whispered that if Chatta had lived longer, he would have kept trying to impregnate other women just to replace Azari as his heir. However, Chatta had not been able to have another child, despite having fourteen queens and thirty-seven concubines.

His violence was rumoured to be the cause of his infertility. It was said that one of the gods of the land whose ruler Chatta had disgraced and enslaved must have placed a curse on him, because his first five sons had died before Azari survived, after which no other child was born for him by any woman.

Azari looked like he was sculpted. To make him into a stronger man, Chatta had forced several trainings on him. He was always lifting heavy things, training for battle, running across the field and forced to watch offenders beheaded at the village square. However, despite all efforts to toughen him up, and the strength he was perceived to have, Azari could never kill a man or open his eyes to watch the act. For this, he was declared a coward by his father and his chiefs.

Now Azari had become King, and though they called him a coward behind his back, no one dared look him in the face when he was overcome by anger, because they were all aware that one blow from him might be able to kill a man. He was taller and fiercer looking than his father, and there were those who believed that a gentle lion was worse than an angry dog.

Azari is the gentle lion, and this lion had been wounded.

As soon as he became king, the quest to find his queen began. Several kings from other kingdoms came to parade their daughters, and the chiefs of Daaji organised beauty contests as well, so that Azari might choose his bride and she could start her training.

However, no woman was good enough for Azari. He had taken his time to select the perfect woman. The selection process that usually took thirty days, had taken him nine months. He wanted the best woman to rule by his side. He never understood why his mother stood by and watched his father wreak so much violence, so he wanted a braver woman, a woman with an opinion.

Azari looked at the Chiefs, they must all mock him now.

In his excitement, he had sent for Vabifat to come sit with him briefly in the throne room before the unveiling event later in the evening, but she had sent words back that she couldn’t stop her preparation for the main event just to entertain him and his chiefs.

The messenger had lacked every sense of propriety, delivering the message the exact way it was given, and that had infuriated the chiefs, and embarrassed the king.

“This is definitely unheard of,” Chief Bale said, and many others nodded in agreement.

“What will she do when she becomes queen?” Chief Bodua had asked no one in particular, but Chief Tando had decided to answer. “If the king accepts this kind of behaviour, our wives will hear of it and believe that they can act rudely without consequences.”

“Could any woman have treated King Chatta, The Great, this way?” Chief Zola said, and they continued bickering as if King Azari wasn’t seated, till he screamed “Enough”, and the room became still.

Azari knew that despite the embarrassment, he could still go ahead with the marriage, if he chose to, but what kind of king would that make him? He couldn’t be the one no one had regard for, because his queen openly disregarded him. So, he had banished Vabifat, never to have access to his presence again.

Despite all the time he wasted in picking his queen, she ridiculed him, and now he would begin his search all over again.

“That is what happens when a king says he wants a woman who will rule with him as an equal.” Azari heard one of the chiefs whisper.

Vabifat had ridiculed him.

Azari sat briefly, thinking about what to do, but not sure of how to ask. His chiefs were his advisers, but each time he asked a question they made jest of him politely, treating him like a boy, but he was a man.

However, wanting them to see him like a man was why he made a rash decision, and now he had no queen. The celebration was over.

“Go home.” Azari ordered, and all the chiefs rose quietly, leaving with cap in hand. However, Chief Halaam and Goze stayed behind. Azari scowled at them, but they moved closer undeterred.

They were his father’s closest advisers, and even though it was within his rights to punish them for ignoring his command, he watched them as they moved closer.

“My king, I know you are angry, but this is not an issue to leave unaddressed till the next day.” Halaam said.

“So, what will you have me do? I have banished Vabifat and she will no longer be my queen.” Azari said, sitting up on his throne, feigning the confidence that he was not feeling.

Goze smiled, irritating Azari.

“Oh king, it is within your power to command any woman in this kingdom to be your queen, even today. We should not move the ceremony just because one woman proved foolish.” Goze said, and Azari looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

“Have you forgotten how long it took me to find Vabifat?”

“Did you see how quickly it was for you to lose her? A woman is a woman. Pick any beautiful and healthy one who can give you an heir.” Halaam said.

“You can always abandon her and crown another queen if she proves useless.” Goze added.

Azari was torn. Their opinions had merit, but he had been hoping to marry a woman who could become his friend. A woman, who could silence the noises in his head, who he could tell secrets, and who he could drop his guard around.

How does a king find a queen?

Did you enjoy reading the first chapter of “To Love A Pagan King”? Are you curious about what will happen to Eniola and how this story will pan out? Please drop a comment.