Kala was at the river doing his laundry after six days of hard labor, and the young man was nearly finished with his task when he heard the crunching of dry leaves. He turned and saw, coming from the other side of the bank, a young woman unknown to the village walking toward the stream. Her hair was styled in immense black braids that swayed on her back like a spidery mane. She smiled. Despite himself, Kala let the garment he was washing drop onto the rock.
The beautiful stranger stopped right at the water’s edge.
” Might there be a hero here whose bravery is so great that he would help a stranger cross the river?” she called out, setting down the two bags she was carrying.
“A pretty smile will always create heroes,” Kala replied to the young woman, who continued to smile.
Kala settled into a fishing pirogue beached on the sand and made his way to the other shore, wielding the paddle with dexterity. As soon as he reached the bank, the young woman put her luggage into the small craft, adjusted her multicolored patterned sarong over her long, shapely legs, and sat down in front of the boatman, who began the return move. He was the first to step out of the boat and helped his passenger reach dry land.
” My name is Eza,” said the traveler, holding out her hand to the boatman. “I come from the great village of So, and I am searching for my parents.”
Kala hurried to shake her hand and introduced himself in turn. Then, he gathered his washed laundry, piled it into a clean basket, and balanced it on his head. He then took up one of Eza’s bags. Since she asked him to lead her to the village of Oya, which she did not know, they first took the steep path, then zigzagged through the forest and fallow fields. They stopped from time to time to catch their breath, especially when they faced one of the sharp hills well known to the inhabitants of Oya. Along the way, Eza began to tell her story. Thus, Kala learned that she had never known her true parents. She had been raised by the King of So. Warriors had found her all alone, shivering with cold on a starless night, near the stream that her guide had just helped her cross. She was only an infant then. She had grown up in the entourage of the chief, who had taken a liking to her. The Chief of So had counted twenty-one great rainy seasons and twenty-two dry seasons since that time. But just a few weeks earlier, the sovereign of So had told her the truth. So, Eza had preferred to go first in search of her biological parents before returning later to So, despite the chief’s opposition.
A shimmering halo wreathed the treetops. Sometimes, Eza and Kala walked near a tree whose fruit exhaled an exquisite scent, and the entire forest seemed like an open-air flower garden, permeated by fresh, fertile fragrances. The light became dazzling as the two walkers approached the village. They passed houses made of earthen bricks and dried straw leaves. In front of Kala’s home, the young man raised his hand and said:
” I live here. We’re going to stop for a moment and see my mother, and if you like, we’ll tell her your story. She might know how to guide you on your path.”
When Eza told Kala’s mother her story, the wrinkles on her listener’s face widened as the tale progressed. At the end of the story, the old woman remained silent. And rather than reacting immediately to what she had just heard, she asked Eza to accept her hospitality for the night. Eza hesitated and, claiming she had been told to seek information from specific people, she initially declined the invitation.
” Yes, my daughter, but you can live here and conduct your search in peace.”
And, turning to her son Kala, she added:
” We will all help you here, you’ll see.”
The next day, she was invited again to stay, and the same thing happened the days that followed. Ultimately, the villagers urged Eza to stay until she uncovered some trace of her family.
Eza then began traveling through the village of Oya, alone or with company. She entered many homes, telling the same story everywhere. She walked a great deal, passing by springs, woods, or vast stretches of inextricable brush through which she had to carve a path to reach the next cluster of houses.
But on some days, Eza simply went to help Kala and his mother with their chores. At nightfall, as fireflies lit their intermittent lanterns and a soft evening breeze rose to tickle the shivering tops of the majestic trees, Eza joined the village youth gathered under a sky dusted with the gold of the setting sun. She took part in games, listened to riddles, and shared stories and ancient enigmas of her own. On feast days, the young woman joined the other villagers in the Great Courtyard and swayed to the sound of the balafons. She eclipsed the other dancers with her beauty and agility, leaving suitors jostling for a single dance.
Eza grew dearer to the village every day, her kindness quietly winning over every heart. Soon, she was no longer considered a stranger.
***
A short dry season had already passed since Eza had arrived in Oya. Her searches remained fruitless. It was at this point that people suggested going to see Koul.
Koul was the oldest of all the notables. The King listened particularly to his wise advice; he remained close to the village inhabitants, and people went to consult him for various reasons. So Eza went to find him to tell him in detail about her quest. She was struck by his parchment-like skin and his thick white beard. The old man listened to her without a word while smoking his pipe, but his gaze gradually lit up like a fire spreading across fallow land. When Eza had finished speaking, Koul asked her to come back and see him the next day.
The next day, the land was awakened by the cawing of an army of crows; the birds were so numerous that no one had the courage to go to work. An absolute calm spread its veil over the village. Finally, the drummer announced tragic news: Mona, the chief’s wife, had passed away.
All the neighborhoods of Oya went into mourning for three days. The third day was Mona’s burial, then, little by little, life resumed its normal course.
Very soon, it was necessary to find a wife for the chief, as tradition required. Mos, holder of the crown, absolutely had to choose a young woman living in his territory as a companion. After mature reflection and with the support of the council of elders, he chose the beautiful and mysterious young woman of whom everyone spoke well.
It came as a shock to Eza that the chief had chosen her for his bride. A thick fog covered even more of the path leading to the discovery of her personal history, to the elucidation of the questions she asked herself about her life and her past. The idea of returning to her adoptive father crossed her mind, but she was strongly dissuaded. They told her that it was not prudent to reject the king’s advances. Moreover, all those who had opted for this incongruity in the past had been struck by anathema. And their descendants were still marked with the seal of misfortune several generations later.
Thus, despite herself, in a torpor from which she had to constantly be roused and which was equaled only by the numbness of a viper after swallowing its prey, Eza gathered her small belongings to move to the residence of the sovereign of Oya. She thanked Kala and his mother profusely for offering her hospitality. In the small courtyard of the house, filled with many people for the occasion, they wished for Eza to succeed in her new life. She would do good for the whole village, that was certain. She then left with the notables, tears in her eyes, while Kala, leaning against a shrub, felt his heart tighten. Deep down, Eza knew it would take her time to mourn the simple, joyous, and carefree life she had led for weeks.
Before becoming the king’s wife fully, she had to undergo initiation for an entire rainy season. Eza ate little, slept more than normal, and remained taciturn during the first days of her presence in the chief’s compound. Then came the long rainy season. In the forest, the trees were covered with green leaves. Fresh, multicolored flowers gave the landscape a radiant smile. Eza began her initiation.
Prior to this, Mos had traveled to a neighboring village. Since he had left, the people of Oya had already counted ten sunsets. As he was not supposed to be gone so long, they began to ask many questions. Tired of waiting, the court dispatched two messengers to find the chief and his retinue. But they returned empty-handed. Upon the announcement of this terrifying news, intrepid warriors, who had proven themselves in other circumstances, were sent on the trail of Mos, the chief. Braving various dangers, they searched day and night in every nook and cranny of the stretch separating the two villages. But their searches remained fruitless. No one could say exactly what had happened to the sovereign and his delegation. A curse seemed to be plaguing Oya. Moreover, even Eza had spotted Zombo, the gorilla who had appeared two days ago on the hill overlooking the chief’s palace. His appearances were never coincidental. They always expressed the ancestors’ discontent. At such times, it became imperative to send the oldest of the notables to receive the ancestors’ message. Koul slept for three nights at the top of the hill where the gorilla had appeared.
Upon his return, he convened the council of elders. They debated at length the message Koul had received in a dream on the third night. It emerged that the ancestors were not satisfied with the way the chief was exercising governance. Koul also made numerous revelations about recent events. The elders then discussed the best way to lead the village out of the turmoil it was going through and concluded their consultation by designating Eza as the new Queen of Oya.
After the meeting, Koul lit his pipe and went to find Eza. He spoke to her with caution and deference about the village’s history and the recent events. Then he paused and said:
” You are the new Queen of Oya, the sovereign of us all.”
Eza remained confused for a long moment, unable to utter a single word. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She pressed her lips together before twisting them into a grimace, while her knees knocked together frenetically. “Hm,” she said while she tried to join her two hands in front of her to give herself strength and composure.
” I don’t want to,” she said when she finally managed to bring her hands together. “Let me just go now. I’m going back to my village.”
” Queen Eza, it is too late, alas, to leave,” Koul resumed calmly. “You are at home here; you have spoken with your kin these last few days. It is you who will bring the changes that we need, as our ancestors revealed to me.”
” But father,” Eza pleaded, “I came here to find those who gave me life.”
The old man sitting across from Eza took several puffs from his pipe, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that drifted for some time in the air, forming arabesques. He cleared his throat and spoke:
” Your mother killed herself some time ago when I told her about the interview we had, and your father disappeared recently. From now on, I am here to serve and advise you.”
A heavy silence enveloped the room. This revelation paralyzed Eza, who again remained speechless for a long time.
” So my father was Mos and my mother Mona?” she finally asked.
” Yes,” answered Koul, impassively.
” What would have happened if Mos and I…”
” That could not happen,” the elder interrupted. “Tradition stipulates that as long as the chief’s companion has not completed her initiation, she cannot share the same bed as him. This period is specifically designed to avoid many unpleasant situations.”
Eza later asked her companion to explain how Mos and Mona were her parents. Koul then told her that her mother had seen in a dream that she would have an only child and that she might marry her father and become queen. Appalled, when the child had arrived, her mother had abandoned her at birth near a river at the border with the neighboring village of So, which was in conflict at the time with Oya. That was surely where she had been picked up by the warriors who had taken her to their village chief.
Later, during their conversation, Koul told Eza that it was not desirable for the one who presides over Oya’s destiny to remain alone. She absolutely had to find a husband in the land.
That very day, Kala was brought to the royal palace. It was the first time he had set foot on the ground of this picturesque building. From the moment he had seen Eza at the river, his heart had been illuminated by an ardent flame whose fire had never gone out. He had never stopped losing himself in sweet daydreams brightened by Eza’s face. But the day she had gone to live at the palace, he had lost all hope of expressing his passion to her.
Kala was left in a room. His stomach was sinking, and his breath would fail him. Eza was there, in front of him. She was smiling. It was the same enchanting smile as when he had seen her for the first time at the river. After a moment, he stammered:
” It’s true… that it’s me who…?”
” Yes, it’s true,” said Eza.
” Um… um… I… haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
” You know, Kala, you’ve been haunting my nights for a long time,” Eza replied.
Outside, Koul was asking the drummer to announce the upcoming marriage of Eza and the future coronation of Oya’s first queen for the days to come.
