The Midnight Dance
Read a compelling story of love and destiny enriched in culture
It was the obituary of the late evening. The ebbing ocherous sunset paved the way for the embryonic moonlit sky, spangled with tenderly twinkling stars. Beneath the unique canopy, tiny glowing sparks lit up the bushes as fireflies flitted happily, and the songs of crickets cheerfully filled the night. It was a joyous night for Chiemela, too; her heart fluttered in excited anticipation. Like every other maiden invited for the banquet, she fantasized about becoming the prince's bride. Her heart throbbed for his love.
Chiemela sat in her enchanted, gold-polished mahogany litter, carried upon the broad shoulders of four well-built young men journeying stoutly to the Eket Kingdom. They slowed pace until they stopped at the royal palace porch. The gently-burning torches flamed from ceramic gourds arranged around the court and lit up the entrance.
Chiemela looked out, awed by the magnificence beheld. It was incomparable to her poky mud hut in Ikotabasi. Though the pride of the village ufok, with a corrugated roof, unlike the palm-fronds and Rafia thatch. A sign of wealth and status recognition of her father, Unwana. He was respected among the tribal clan for his superior hut and occupation and hailed "Ati owo-ududu," literally translated "White Tree." Because he was a palm wine tapper of the sweet, intoxicating milk from which he gained merchandise, the primary drink for merriment at festivals and weddings. That was before the encounter in the forest on a tapper's trip where a ranging bear savagely mauled him, faraway in the heart of the woodland. Since her father's death, her stepmother and stepsisters had mistreated her; life was cruel and bitter. But, now with a chance to win the prince's love, a flicker of hope burned in her heart.
The royal festival room was a vast and stately circular hall, flanked with tall pillars that rose like mighty sentinels to the ornately carved wooden ceiling. Lush drapery in Akwete designs hung from high open windows and cascaded down to smoothly polished ceramic floors. The hides of wild animals and sculptured pieces adorned the walls. Tonight, the hall overflowing with beautiful guests, primarily young maidens, dressed in gorgeous, native attires and chatting idly away.
When Chiemela made her entrance, everyone, including the prince, looked admiringly in her direction. Her long, glossy hair bounced below her last thoracic vertebrae and smoothly polished skin. In her multicoloured, coral-bead headdress and necklace, she looked simply grand and elegant. No one knew who she was or whence she came.
Although slightly flustered for that moment, she managed up a charming smile and walked with the calm confidence of a princess to the other end of the festival room. There, she gently seated herself on a delicately-carved, wooden stool and delighted in the sweet music of flutes and drums and the festive splendour of the sights.
Like a child placed under a spell, the prince felt drawn to Chiemela and immediately strode to her. "Good evening, most beautiful maiden," the prince greeted her with a kind and charming smile. Chiemela looked up into his warm, beckoning eyes and examined his handsomeness. "Please," he continued, still smiling, "I would be most honoured if you so graciously grant me the pleasure of this dance." Chiemela, still scarcely believing, assented with a nod and smile.
As Chiemela danced with the prince to the pleasant native melodies, she glided across the festival room like a graceful swan, her richly embroidered, violet attire shimmering brightly like a starry, twilight evening sky. She surprised the prince with her mastery of the traditional dances. Many of the guests looked on in enchantment, some in pleased admiration, others in jealous disappointment.
Chiemela noticed her stepsisters peering at her with mixed impressions of wonder and bemusement. Although she looked vaguely familiar, they couldn't recognize her because it was impossible to fit her into the present circumstances.
Still crooked in his arm, she heard the clock chime at midnight.
