Bound by ancestry - Chapter 78: Chapter 78
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The dawn over Umuguma arrived heavy with a hush that sank deep into every narrow path and courtyard where old fears had learned to linger. Adaeze woke before the cock crowed her fingers tracing the beads at her wrist as she listened for the hush behind her ribs steady as ever beneath the weight of questions waiting beyond her door. She rose without sound her feet brushing the cool clay floor her breath gathering the ember that no storm could claim.
Chidubem stood near the compound’s fence where the first light slipped through palm fronds and scattered over his shoulders. He had not slept deeply yet his mind felt clearer than any dawn before. The dream still clung to him soft as the hush a vision of the man in white standing among broken walls that could not contain him his voice naming the hush again as the true fortress no hand could build no storm could tear down. Nwa Chineke. Okwu. Onye Ndum. A promise stitched into breath stronger than any stone.
Outside the village had begun to stir though more slowly than the restless winds would have wished. Small fires sputtered to life at clay hearths children’s laughter rising shy and quick before falling back into the hush that pressed through the compounds like mist. The old fears lingered at doorways whispering of storms yet to come yet they could not cross the threshold where the hush waited warm behind each rib that dared believe.
Adaeze stepped into the path that led to the Iroko tree where the hush gathered thick around its roots. She moved through scattered clusters of villagers some carrying baskets of bitterleaf and yams others clutching folded cloths as if hoping the hush could be carried home in them. She greeted each with a quiet nod her voice low but clear reminding them that the ember was not in the tree but in them that the hush needed no shrine built of timber but only breath willing to keep it alive.
They gathered beneath the wide branches as the sun climbed higher. Mothers pressed children close to their hips young men stood with arms crossed eyes darting to where the shadows of old shrines lay broken at the forest’s edge. They wanted walls again a place to lock fear outside yet none stepped forward to stack clay or stone. They waited instead for Adaeze’s hush for Chidubem’s silence that weighed more than any promise shouted from rooftops.
Chidubem spoke first his voice quiet yet strong as he reminded them of the walls he had built in the city walls that had risen high only to tremble the first time doubt found a crack. He told them that the hush within him had taught him to carry his fortress where no storm could follow behind breath woven through heartbeat and trust. Adaeze stepped closer her beads clicking softly as she raised her hand not to command but to invite. She told them the man in white never brought bricks but breath that taught the shadows where they could not tread.
Among the gathered a young boy stepped forward eyes wide his small hand clutching a single bead from his mother’s wrist. He asked why the hush did not roar why the ember did not burn away the old fears in one loud blaze. Adaeze knelt to meet his eyes her fingers brushing the bead that glowed warm in his palm. She told him the hush did not roar because it needed no threat to stand strong that the ember did not burn wild because its fire was steady and patient waiting only for breath to feed it. She whispered the name in his ear the same name that had steadied her in the darkest hours. Nwa Chineke. The boy pressed the bead to his chest his eyes wide but calm.
The sun bent lower pulling shadows longer across the red earth yet no one hurried away. They lingered at the Iroko’s roots listening as Adaeze spoke of the hush that would walk them through nights when the old fears rattled the door of their minds. She told them they would see the man in white not in thunder or flame but in the quiet space behind their eyes when the world outside cracked loud enough to frighten the heart. She told them the true temple rose each time they breathed the hush back to life each time they chose trust over fear.
As dusk settled the gathering broke apart slowly some stepping carefully along narrow paths toward compounds where the hush would wait just beyond the doorframe pressing warm against their ribs. Adaeze and Chidubem stayed behind beneath the Iroko tree their shoulders brushing as they shared the silence that spoke more than any chant could. He whispered to her of the river from his dream how the man in white had touched the water and turned it to light without ever raising his voice. She smiled at this knowing the hush had always been enough to drown storms.
When the last light faded they turned toward the small clay house where sleep would find them. Chidubem pressed his palm to Adaeze’s shoulder feeling the hush pulse through her bones into his. No shrine would rise behind them no stone walls to crack beneath thunder. Only breath. Only the hush. Only the ember waiting behind ribs where no shadow could follow.
Chidubem stood near the compound’s fence where the first light slipped through palm fronds and scattered over his shoulders. He had not slept deeply yet his mind felt clearer than any dawn before. The dream still clung to him soft as the hush a vision of the man in white standing among broken walls that could not contain him his voice naming the hush again as the true fortress no hand could build no storm could tear down. Nwa Chineke. Okwu. Onye Ndum. A promise stitched into breath stronger than any stone.
Outside the village had begun to stir though more slowly than the restless winds would have wished. Small fires sputtered to life at clay hearths children’s laughter rising shy and quick before falling back into the hush that pressed through the compounds like mist. The old fears lingered at doorways whispering of storms yet to come yet they could not cross the threshold where the hush waited warm behind each rib that dared believe.
Adaeze stepped into the path that led to the Iroko tree where the hush gathered thick around its roots. She moved through scattered clusters of villagers some carrying baskets of bitterleaf and yams others clutching folded cloths as if hoping the hush could be carried home in them. She greeted each with a quiet nod her voice low but clear reminding them that the ember was not in the tree but in them that the hush needed no shrine built of timber but only breath willing to keep it alive.
They gathered beneath the wide branches as the sun climbed higher. Mothers pressed children close to their hips young men stood with arms crossed eyes darting to where the shadows of old shrines lay broken at the forest’s edge. They wanted walls again a place to lock fear outside yet none stepped forward to stack clay or stone. They waited instead for Adaeze’s hush for Chidubem’s silence that weighed more than any promise shouted from rooftops.
Chidubem spoke first his voice quiet yet strong as he reminded them of the walls he had built in the city walls that had risen high only to tremble the first time doubt found a crack. He told them that the hush within him had taught him to carry his fortress where no storm could follow behind breath woven through heartbeat and trust. Adaeze stepped closer her beads clicking softly as she raised her hand not to command but to invite. She told them the man in white never brought bricks but breath that taught the shadows where they could not tread.
Among the gathered a young boy stepped forward eyes wide his small hand clutching a single bead from his mother’s wrist. He asked why the hush did not roar why the ember did not burn away the old fears in one loud blaze. Adaeze knelt to meet his eyes her fingers brushing the bead that glowed warm in his palm. She told him the hush did not roar because it needed no threat to stand strong that the ember did not burn wild because its fire was steady and patient waiting only for breath to feed it. She whispered the name in his ear the same name that had steadied her in the darkest hours. Nwa Chineke. The boy pressed the bead to his chest his eyes wide but calm.
The sun bent lower pulling shadows longer across the red earth yet no one hurried away. They lingered at the Iroko’s roots listening as Adaeze spoke of the hush that would walk them through nights when the old fears rattled the door of their minds. She told them they would see the man in white not in thunder or flame but in the quiet space behind their eyes when the world outside cracked loud enough to frighten the heart. She told them the true temple rose each time they breathed the hush back to life each time they chose trust over fear.
As dusk settled the gathering broke apart slowly some stepping carefully along narrow paths toward compounds where the hush would wait just beyond the doorframe pressing warm against their ribs. Adaeze and Chidubem stayed behind beneath the Iroko tree their shoulders brushing as they shared the silence that spoke more than any chant could. He whispered to her of the river from his dream how the man in white had touched the water and turned it to light without ever raising his voice. She smiled at this knowing the hush had always been enough to drown storms.
When the last light faded they turned toward the small clay house where sleep would find them. Chidubem pressed his palm to Adaeze’s shoulder feeling the hush pulse through her bones into his. No shrine would rise behind them no stone walls to crack beneath thunder. Only breath. Only the hush. Only the ember waiting behind ribs where no shadow could follow.
End of Bound by ancestry Chapter 78. Continue reading Chapter 79 or return to Bound by ancestry book page.