The kitchen was filled with a variety of foods etched in wooden plates and clay gourds, some were half eaten others emptied as the remnants could be seen with the green bellies of houseflies perching on them.

A testament to the number of feasts that were going on in the compound as mixed noises followed by occasional cheers and jests by thick voices of men in the village, 

The ambiance was the opposite the previous night and even more sullen the night before with the protruded belly of Nkechi and the sadness left by her missing husband  Okonkwo.

“Take it gently” Nkechi’s mother had warned as she moved swiftly even though she was at the peak of her child's affairs. Nkechi had always been a strong woman, her defeat of  Kamsi a boy 2 years older during a quarrel at the stream earned her the name “Agu Nwanyi” meaning strong woman and she responded by wearing a dress made from leopard skin.

“My problem is who will tame her,” her father Mazi Mbakwe said, He was a stern man with a small stature, built for the palm wine tree he so often climbed. He was talking with his friend Mazi Etchie with a horn of his filled with his product from which he occasionally drank.

“She will find an Agu (Lion) for herself” Mazi Etchie responded all the while helping himself with more palm wine from the calabash.

Their discussion was briefly interrupted by Nkechi’s mother as she served hot pepper soup with “Nkwobi”(Goat meat) bowing to the many thanks and greetings from Mazi Etchie who kept his eyes on the trophy laid before him all the time.

Before they resumed their conversation a huge chunk of the meat had been devoured and the compound dog was nibbling with the bones as the topic had quickly veered to hunting, bush meats, and traps.

![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmU5Hp7R8ZmxeHHgSx9iRmfqKnf9Px48XMKDmpwoqVLrQw/forest_6761846_1920.jpg)


[Image by hasogr on pixabay](https://pixabay.com/nl/photos/woud-jungle-tropisch-groente-6761846/)

How Okonkwo came to be Nkechi’s husband was a thing said many times among market women and hunters alike. Okonkwo was a renowned hunter and often showed his prowess by hunting rare beasts such as Crocodiles, Wild cats, and even an Eagle the feathers of which he decorated his Obi (Parlor).

The Crocodile was the one that remained in Nkechi’s as it was the reason they met in the first place. Nkechi had gone to the river, again alone, to wash some of her clothes. She normally favored the deep parts and had no trouble as she was a stout girl of 17 new moons.

It sounded like a splash from the nearby bank similar to the one she was making with her clothes and soon enough what looked like a log of wood floated slowly toward her. Nkechi unaware of the imminent danger continued washing until a loud thrush and great splash sounded behind her,

Seeing the impaled monster, Nkechi shrieked and Okonkwo embraced her, he did so often after then till he visited her father with a gourde of palm wine accompanied by his uncle. The marriage was splendid and the story of a brave hunter rescuing a damsel from the jaws of death remained on the lips of the villagers.

Okonkwo needed the embrace this time as he was surrounded by guards from another village and mistook for an enemy. 
“Hunters were always caught between wars” His father had warned him when his thirst for hunting was ignited.

For two days he had stayed as their captive, leaving Nkechi that was with a swollen belly at home. Sometimes during the thick of the night when the crickets sang with their cocky voice and the bush animals made strange noises Okonkwo imagined the face of his unborn child and wondered if he would ever see his wife again.

The second day was as grim as the first, but this time their camp was joined by a high-ranking soldier. His machete glared at the sunrise. Okonkwo could see him shouting at the other soldiers who were younger than him and after everything, he walked towards Okonkwo with the machete in hand.

“I’m so sorry, we from Umuahala don’t take Hunters as Prisoners” He spoke and his voice was a contrast to his face, sweet and thick whereas the face was hard and rough. 
“We’ll escort you to your village” he added, Okonkwo remained silent surprised at the sudden change.

“Which village are you from?” He asked, and Okonkwo manage to mutter the words.
“Umuhechi,” he said as his hunting bag, bows, spear, and arrows were brought to him.

This day was not done until the second person was delivered. Nkechi’s voice could be heard from the narrow road that led to his compound. Okonkwo walked with all earnestness, bursting into a sprint when he heard the shout.

It was sharp and the thatched roof and thick mud hut couldn’t reduce it as it rang in the ears, similar to the shriek that day only longer. It was already midnight when Okonkwo got to his compound. Palm oil lamps were littered outside like fireflies after a wet day.

The women outside didn’t recognize him until he walked right unto the hut causing a panic outside. Just as the raffia mat door opened and Nkechi beheld him she pushed one last time with the strength of the hunter as her mother said the next day.

Okonkwo embraced her, sweat running on both their faces as they giggled to the cry of their child, a male, judging by the stump between his legs. There was no need for explanations yet, just joy, and it left the room like the errand bird, bringing more people as the day began with the cockerels screaming away.