The naming ceremony was not held immediately after the child's birth. It had to wait until the twelfth day, and the reason for this was deeply rooted in an ancient Igbo belief concerning the mysterious relationship between the world of the living and the world of the unborn.
According to the belief, every newborn child was first given time to decide whether it truly wished to remain in the human world. The child, in those first twelve days, was believed to stand between two worlds—the world of the living into which it had just arrived and the world of the unborn from which it had come.
It was believed that the child could choose either to remain and become a member of the human community or return to the world of the unborn.
If the child died before the naming ceremony and therefore never received a name, it was interpreted as a sign that the child had chosen to return. Such a child was believed to have rejected the burdens and uncertainties of earthly existence and gone back to the company of the unborn.
But if the child survived until the twelfth day, the people took it as a sign that the child had considered both worlds and chosen the human one. By surviving, the child had, in a sense, declared its willingness to become part of the community.
The belief went even further.
A newborn was said to possess a mysterious double voice, enabling it to communicate with two different communities.
One of these voices was incomprehensible to humans. Through it, the child was believed to communicate with its companions in the world of the unborn. Those unseen companions could continue calling to the child, reminding it of the world it had left behind and attempting to persuade it to return.
The other voice belonged to the world of the living.
It was the cry of the baby.
Through crying, the newborn announced its presence to humanity. It was saying, in the only language it possessed, that it had arrived and was ready to be recognized.
But recognition required a name.
The world of the unborn was believed to be a world of spirits—beings without physical bodies and therefore without the need for names as humans understood them. A person became fully incorporated into the human community only after receiving a name.
Thus, naming was more than an introduction.
It was a severing.
Once a child received its name, its invisible allegiance to its companions in the world of the unborn was believed to be broken. The child had chosen its place among the living.
The twelve-day waiting period also served another important purpose. Childbirth was physically demanding, and the mother needed time to recover from the ordeal. The waiting period allowed her body to heal and her strength to return before she was expected to receive members of the extended family and the wider agnate community for the naming ceremony.
Only when mother and child were considered sufficiently strong would the community gather to formally welcome the newborn.
For Chinaza and her family, that twelfth day had finally arrived.
*
The long-awaited naming ceremony finally arrived. Everyone, including Ego, had gathered in the Obiri when Ezinne emerged from the hut carrying the baby. It was the first time the child was being formally presented to the family and the wider Umunna.
She walked straight to Nnadozie and handed the child to his father.
Nnadozie rose to his feet, holding the baby securely in one arm and a horn of palm wine in the other. Everyone else remained seated, dressed in their finest clothes, their eyes fixed on him.
He looked around the gathering before speaking.
"I want this child to be called Chukwuma."
The announcement was immediately met with a loud cheer.
"Chukwuma!"
"Chukwuma!"
"Chukwuma!"
Nnadozie smiled and placed the child before the Ndebunze. He then picked up a hoe and a machete—the two principal tools of the farmer—and carefully placed them in the child's tiny hands.
"My son," he began, "with these tools, your fathers lived well. We call upon you to acquaint yourself with them properly and be hardworking. May you reap good fruits from your labor. Live, grow, and wax strong. May you bury your father and not your father bury you. May the gods of our land bless and guide you throughout your earthly journey."
"Isee!"
The response came from everyone in unison.
After each prayer, the elders struck their closed fists gently against the earth before them and responded with the same sacred affirmation.
"Isee!"
The solemnity of the ceremony gradually gave way to celebration. Greetings were exchanged, and people began calling the child by his newly given name.
"Chukwuma!"
"Welcome, Chukwuma!"
"May you live long!"
Gifts were presented to the newborn—wrappers, foodstuff, and other items considered useful for the mother and child. Soon, palm wine began flowing freely, accompanied by laughter and lively conversation.
Finally, the roasted meat from the ram Nnadozie had slaughtered for the occasion was shared among the guests, bringing the ceremony to a joyful close.
For Ego, the night of Chukwuma's naming marked the thirteenth night of her stay with Nnadozie's family.
Nnadozie had remained true to his word. He had ensured that she was well taken care of, while Chinyere had gone out of her way to make her comfortable. Almost everything Ego asked for was provided, and even things she never requested somehow found their way to her.
Ego was genuinely overwhelmed by the kindness she received from the household. They had not merely given her shelter; they had slowly incorporated her into the family.
For three market days, she had hardly done any work. She ate good food and rested and slept. The only time she had gone to the stream was when Chinyere playfully insisted that she accompany her.
For a woman who had lived almost entirely by herself since Nnanna's death, such care was difficult to understand at first.
She had become accustomed to struggling for everything.
At first, she resisted the kindness. She felt uncomfortable whenever someone did something for her without asking for anything in return. But gradually, the warmth of the household softened her. She began accepting their affection and, eventually, appreciating it.
Perhaps that was why Nnadozie's advances had also begun to affect her differently.
She had initially resisted his attempts to seduce her, reminding herself that Nnanna was still the only man she had ever truly loved. But loneliness has a way of weakening even the strongest resolve.
Nnadozie was patient.
He treated her with tenderness, provided for her needs, and made her feel wanted again. Little by little, Ego found herself giving in to his affection.
She even began considering his proposal seriously.
Perhaps she could become one of his wives.
Perhaps she could have a home again.
Perhaps she could have children.
Perhaps she could finally begin living instead of merely surviving.
For the first time in many years, Ego allowed herself to imagine a future that did not revolve around grief.
She did not know that destiny had already written something else for her.
And the happiness she had only just begun to embrace was about to come to an unexpected and devastating end.
*
The naming ceremony had long come to an end. Visitors and well-wishers had all gone to their various homes. Dusk soon faded into darkness; the cold harmattan night was bone-piercing. It was that time of the night when every human being had gone to bed. A full moon hung like a great luminous pearl on the radiant breast of heaven. It lighted up the land beneath it like that of the eyes of the devil straight into the soul of the damned. The hut was silvered and transformed by the light of the moon. The silver light it provided was enough to see the face of one sitting next to you.
Ego crawled up in the bamboo bed in her hut, sleeping dreamlessly when she subconsciously felt someone's cold, rough palm slowly rubbing from her exposed knees into her concealed lap, upward towards her waist; at the same time, another hand was caressing her firm breasts. The bitter-sweet romance gradually brought her back to reality. The sound of a moan filled the quiet hut. She thought it was one of those weird dreams that felt so real. But all that changed immediately; she felt the weight of her rapist on top of her. He had successfully turned her over and had parted her legs.