Somehow the talk became more sober as night approached. Once there was an interesting discussion, the men forgot about their homes; they forgot that they were hungry until they got home however late. Soon they started to talk about the old Agbon practice of exiling or selling into faraway lands their young women who were accused of witchcraft.
Iniovo told his colleagues that it was difficult to confirm that any person was a witch or wizard.
“Have you seen somebody who was not sick who had confessed to being a witch?” he asked.
“You ought to know that there are witches who plot to kill those who prosper,” Amraibure answered.
He spoke with force even when talking to people sitting beside him. There was a harsh edge to his words.
“Why are rich people not accused of witchcraft? Why are the accused only poor and helpless ones? Why are the accused women and not men?” Iniovo asked.
“Men rarely imbibe witchcraft from childhood; they resist the craft,” Ode answered.
“Men acquire their witchcraft when already grown up to protect themselves,” Amraibure said.
He had got up, flung his wrapper over his left shoulder, to register his words more forcefully. His voice was ordinarily loud and almost split people's ears when he thundered at them.
“Let us talk about other things. We will not be able to change each other's views on witchcraft and we will continue arguing till tomorrow without agreeing on anything,” Iniovo told them.
It had been more than five years since Titi left with her children in a boat to rejoin her husband in distant Izonland. Titi's life had brought shame to Agbon people and nobody wanted to talk publicly about the injustice or otherwise of sending a young woman from her home to an unknown place because she was accused, without proof, of being a witch. When she came back as a prosperous woman, Titi was embraced. Those who approved of her deportation forty or more years ago were now dead or so old and suffering dementia that they could not remember what had happened.
The issue had always been a contentious one in Okpara. Those who took no part in the decision still talked as if she had not already been sold to an Izon man, who had transformed her from one to be feared to one who now commanded respect. They continued to debate the issue even after the practice had been outlawed. It was a wound though healed on the outside continued to bring pain.
At the time the deed was already done, Iniovo spoke against it as an unjust practice that Okpara people should be ashamed of. “Those who put themselves forward as leaders must show enlightenment,” Iniovo had told them, referring to Okpara folks who assumed leadership of Agbon and yet engaged in a backward practice. Amraibure supported the practice, which showed how deep his belief was in witchcraft and he did not shed it as a grown man. His was a strident voice against a unanimous view that as a people progressed they should abandon customs that brought them shame and ridicule by others. He said that Titi should have been driven away when she came back because she could bring evil with her to infect the town and he did not want to suffer an evil person's pain. Most people were not as adamant about her case as Amraibure had been, and felt pity for her. It was one of those wrongs that could not be made completely right no matter how sorry the offenders felt.
Even now when they talked about Titi, it was brief. It had to be so because it was as if Okpara had a wound that would not heal. It had to be touched lightly, very lightly lest it broke loose and hurt more. The practice was abolished many years ago despite the resistance of Amraibure and a few others who wanted to get rid of witches among them.
“Some of you give witches too much comfort and freedom that make them bold enough to acquire more potent craft,” Amraibure said accusingly.
“If witches are so dangerous, how come that there are old people everywhere?” Ode asked.
“If trees can withstand hurricanes, why can't people withstand witches?” Iniovo asked.
“Despite their power, strong men can subdue them,” Amraibure said of witches, with a measure of confidence.
His fellow Okpara men realized that he was the son of Odibo, the very strong man, and he was also seen as strong. Only those who were well fortified against witchcraft spoke with the boldness and confidence of Amraibure, people thought.
“In the end evil ones fall victim to their evil deeds, irrespective of whether witches existed among us or not. There must be more evil people than the witches because of their mindless crimes,” Iniovo told them; his words directed at Amraibure.
“You are very right. Evil destroys itself,” Ode concluded.
“We must get rid of witches by whatever way custom demands of us,” Amraibure said, unshaken by the arguments of his fellows at the ohwarha joint.
He was known to be as unmovable as a huge tree. Others could shift ground for one another but Amraibure would maintain his position rigidly.
People left the joint when it was already dark.
Kena had kept warm memories of Titi and continued to be haunted by her face and words long after the Okpara woman had returned to her home of bondage or, rather, her home of self-actualization, freedom, and prosperity. Titi had returned to her refuge from Agbon's tyranny. Like the cat seeking freedom, she had gone into the forest, where she could live a life of abandon without Okpara's containment of her potentials. How things had turned upside down that her nativity had become a bondage she had to flee to regain freedom in a foreign land!
Kena pictured in her mind how Titi's words had come through tears before her own people. The woman who had been sold out of Agbon and had returned to show off her wealth to embarrass her family and the entire Agbon was calm, soft-spoken, firm and dignified. Like the matriarch of Agbon, she sat in a cane chair; her feet stretched forward, her right and left palms placed on her lap; her head raised upright. She was the idol of the crowd gathered to listen to her. One could tell how intense Kena had been, as she and others watched and listened to the woman who had redeemed her image.
Nobody wanted to be told about what Titi said about herself. All the concerned and inquisitive people in Okpara wanted to hear from the oracle's mouth. Who would not avail himself or herself at the oracle's presence if allowed to hear the words firsthand? Those would be words to treasure in a lifetime and nobody wanted to miss them. Many came to listen to her because they just wanted to show their solidarity with her; they wanted to make up for the evil past that had falsely condemned her. These people felt it was better to confront the past through Titi's presence and liberate their minds from the haunting guilt. Those who had no part to play in her being sold away still felt guilty. It was Agbon's guilt and everybody shared in this evil, which needed to be expiated. There were no innocent ones in the matter; all had become victims by complicity of birthright in Agbon. The guilt weighed heavily on them as the experience did on the initial victim.
As Titi spoke, she used her right palm to wipe out tears from her eyebrows.
“They lied against me!” she cried out in a clear bell-like voice that rang through the crowd.
But she spoke now not as a bitter and enraged person who sought revenge. She sought no restitution from anybody. She had even forgiven her deceased father for his ignorance. She said these things, according to her, for the future to be fair and just for all people, men and women as well as children and adults.
Kena had sat close on the ground in the big compound