Dial - Season 1 - Episode 122

4 years ago

Dial - Season 1 - Episode 122

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The witch did a very strange thing then; she reached out and took hold of my right hand, and she held it tightly. I could feel the slight tremor running through her, and I knew she was very terrified.

“Yao, please, for the love of God, do not resist them,” she said fearfully. “They’re incensed, and it will only take the very least provocation to drive them overboard, please.”

“And if I don’t resist what happens?” I asked, striving to keep calm as that murderous crowd drew nearer to us.
“They would take you to the palace, and you would be asked to lie down in front of Adobea to show your changed heart, and then they would fine you. Afterwards, because you’re a stranger, they would release you.”
I found my fury soaring again at the pure injustice in it all, but I did listen to her, and I stepped off the veranda to the yard, because I wanted them to deal with me alone, and not harm her in any way.

Their screams increased, and in a moment they surrounded me, their hideously-painted faces incensed. They reached out for me and hurled me to the ground. Their screams and incessant chanting almost drove me mad. I felt their coarse hands on me as they pulled me down on a piece of round tree trunk. I felt the cruel bite of cords as they tied me to the trunk. The tight ropes went around my body and arms and legs, and a moment later I was rendered completely immobile on that piece of tree trunk.

And, through it all, I saw Maame Ntiriwaa on the veranda, her hands on her head, and tears of anguish falling down her tears. That she cared for me that much, that she considered me a friend enough to cry for me, really warmed my heart, and it gave me a sort of inner strength as they lifted the tree trunk with me tied to it, and bore it away.
My mind really failed to grasp what was really happening.

Time and space passed in a blur. I was aware of being borne to the riverside, put into a huge canoe, and rowed across the river.
Once on the other side of the river, the maddened frenzy became worse!

The villagers drummed and screamed in a frenetic glee! Guns were fired into the air. I was pelted with rotten vegetables as they bore me along. Stinking water was thrown on me, and sharp objects I suspected to be tiny stones were hurled at me.

The stench alone was murderous, and the cords biting into my chafed skin was a torture. It was simply the most humiliating and painful position I had ever been in – except, of course, the forced aging Nana b0s0mba had visited on me.

And this was happening because of that pompous and arrogant royal princess, Abena Adobea. My fury at – and my hatred for – her rose to dizzying heights.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we entered the huge forecourt of the palace.
It was designed in a round manner, built with clay but coated with cement and painted blue at the base and white at the broader top. Drawings depicting warfare, royal animals, and portraits of past kings covered the surface of the walls.

There was a hole in the centre of the cemented forecourt, and they pushed the base of the tree trunk I was tied to into the hole so that I was suddenly upright.