Grassfields Stories from Cameroon

9. Afoa-Kom

56 9Afoa-Kom Wake up! Bobe wake up!” Nawain Nangeh said, trying to nudge her husband out of a deep slumber. “What’s the matter? Why are you waking me up at this time of the night, eh?” Shall I ever have a moment of peaceful sleep in this house?” Bobe Nkwain said, robbing his green eyes. “Didn’t you hear the Qwifonlxxxi gong?” Nawain Nangeh asked. “The Qwifon gong? Did you hear the beating of the Qwifon gong at midnight? Are you dreaming or what?” Bobe Nkwain asked, staring at his wife in disbelief. “No, I am not dreaming, I heard the Qwifon gong with my own ears. Listen, you’ll hear it,” she said. “Kingking! Kingkong! “kingking! Kingkong! Kongkong! Kingking Kongking! Kingkong!” the gong sounded again. Bobe Nkwain threw away the threadbare blanket that covered his lanky legs and jumped out of his bamboo bed, stark naked. He was terrified. The Qwifon does not beat the gong at midnight for nothing. Something terrible must have happened. “The last time the gong was heard at midnight was when the people of Kejem Keku attacked our people in their sleep. That was thirty years ago,” he said to his wife. “What does this gong mean Bobe?” his wife asked, looking scared. “Woman, the sound you heard is a rallying call.” “Rallying call? Who is rallying who?” “The Qwifon is summoning all the Kungheuhlxxxii to the palace,” the man said. “ 57 “So you are leaving for the palace right now?” “Yes, I must go. No kunghlxxxiii sleeps after hearing the beating of the Qwifon gong.” “You really mean you have to cross fourteen rivers in the heart of darkness to get to the Fon’s palace just because the Qwifon has sounded the gong?” Nawain asked, yawning in despair.” “Woman, I have no choice. The head that wears the red feather and a porcupine quill knows no sleep,” Bobe Nkwain said, jumping into his Ndikong outfit. Before the early morning cock crowed, the titleholder had already crossed ten rivers. Four separated him from Fon Wallang’s palace. He was dressed for war not knowing what to make of this unexpected call. Two spears hung from his left shoulder, a bow and sheath of arrows lay on his right shoulder. A sharp knife protruded from his goatskin bag bedecked with amulets. When he arrived at the palace six other Kungheuh and the Fon were waiting for him in the inner room of the Qwifon shrine. Bending almost double, Bobe Nkwain clapped his muscular hands three times before greeting the Fon. “Mbeh, forgive my tardiness. Legs that have seen many moons know no speed,” he said, sitting down on a wooden stool next to the Fon. “Peace be upon you, Nkwain,” the Fon said. “Welcome, Bobe Nkwain,” the other notables greeted. “Gentlemen, our forefathers once said that smoke from a burning house cannot be hidden,” the Fon said. “Cheh! The notables said, nodding in consent. “What has happened, this mouth cannot tell,” the Fon continued. “Mbeh, what has happened?” the notables asked at the same time. 58 “The Afoa-Kom is gone!” the Fon said, trembling like a banana leaf. “Gone! Gone to where?” Bobe Jua asked, dropping down his Shia bolohlxxxiv decorated with a red feather and two porcupine quills. “Agoo! Agoo!” the others exclaimed, falling down on their stomachs in front of the village leader. “Get up gentlemen, follow me to the Afoa-Kom shrine,” the Fon said, leading the way into the small thatched house that had sheltered the people’s guardian spirit for centuries. “Take a look here. This is where the Afoa-Kom stood until last night,” he said, pointing to the cemented hole where the statue had stood for years. “Mbeh, who took away the Afoa-Kom?” Bobe Ngum asked. “If I knew the answer, I would have told you,” the Fon said, tears welling in his golden brown eyes. “There’s every indication someone broke in here,” Bobe Jua said, pointing to a hole on the wall of the small house. The Fon and the village elders went close to the spot and took a look at the hole. Bobe Nyongo pushed away the dry banana leaves with which someone had stuffed the hole. “It’s big enough to let through a human being,” Bobe Nyongo said, heaving a sigh of desperation. “How come I didn’t see this hole when I opened the...