The Distant Cry (A Flash Fiction)

A pitch-black darkness cast shadow on her mind, casting away all elements of hope left in her. She sat still, pegging the balls of her eyes on the gate that stood opposite her at the rear of the open greeny ambience. She looked present but within, her mind was far away. She had become used to serving her fruits down the belly of the ever-hungry earth.

Seven years ago, it was Adwoa in her fourth week. Two years on, Adukpo joined the former, bringing the counts to two. He was 6 weeks old. Now, it was Gangui. He was a little over two years and she had become fond of the child who often performed wonders. He would wake her up in the middle of the night, pick up her breast and suckle on it. Whenever she complained, he would go to the table and pick a tin of milk, then bring it to her to feed him with. She would smile and hug her baby passionately.

Now, here laid Gangui on a mat on the compound of their home. He was neither dead nor alive. Her husband had taken to alcohol since the demise of Adukpo and was only recovering slowly after the birth of Gangui. With what stood before her very eyes now, she could only afford not to think of what would be the story about Kofi Kpatakplanya on his return from Sunyani. Scores of folks both young and old, rich and poor, male and female from the township of Azikope trooped in to find out what had happened. Hunorga Avulasi, the chief priest was there too. Upon setting eyes on him, Ablavi's eyes melted and tears oozed out like the blood of a goat through its slit throat.

She Jumped and knelt at the feet of the chief priest who stood opposite the virtually lifeless body of Gangui. Her tears cleansed his feet while she held on tightly to his legs. The chief Priest shook is head slowly and mildly. "Woman! The spirits have spoken and when the spirits speak, even the highest masquerades bow" he said. Ablavi's tears came even more, followed closely by a raging cry and shivering. "The gods have taken their own. Let no mortals question the gods.

It's done. Your son has joined his ancestors" The chief priest said finally and disappeared into thin air. A more confused and tortured Ablavi jumped up, picked up her son and tried singing to him as though to wake him up from sleep. She held his arms, stiff. She held his legs, rigid. She opened his eyes, he didn't blink. She placed him down and disappeared through the crowd, yelling and running at the speed of light. All that followed the distant cry was "Gangui! Gangui! Gangui!".