Something happened today.


The handle of the holy of holies broke today.
It was one of the only things that had remained unchanged after the war.
We had been so grateful for that one constant.
Something we could tell our children of without fearing that their imaginations would ruin the sacred details that were sure to be lost in our description of things.
Something we could both tell them of and show to them.

I remember waiting for my passage ceremony; the event where all those who just became 'of age' were welcomed into adulthood.
In preparation for this event, Papa Idoha spent three hours every two months in the year preceding it describing to us what he said his grandfather had also described to him.
Deep down, we all felt the story had to have been tainted as it passed from generation to generation.
A little salt here and there, until all that was left to taste was the salt.
But we consoled ourselves with the thought that we'd see things for ourselves when the time came.

And when we finally saw it, it took self-inflicted pain in the form of pinching, to stifle the giggles that were all but out.
It was so far from it's description.
It had always been described as the entrance to the golden throne, so we assumed it would somehow reflect the beauty it preluded.
Shiny and maybe even covered to prevent dust from gathering around such a beautifully sacred thing.
But asides being ancient and yet unworn, it was no different from than the door handle of our family kitchen.
However, on each side of it stood wooden sculptures from whose mouths gushed clear water.

Clear water.
One simply didn't find clear water in our village. It wasn't something that was sort after or even cherished when found. You simply didn't find clear water in our village. 
It is rumoured that Ugo and Uzo's mother found and drank it, and that's why she begat albinos.

So perhaps that's what was sacred.
Because nothing in the the 3 hour lectures even hinted at there being clear water there.
Perhaps it was so sacred no one even dared mention it. 
If drinking it could cause mama Uzo to have albinos, then perhaps speaking of it would at least cause leprosy.

But today it collapsed. Or rather, it had collapsed when we got there today.
There was a thunderstorm last night, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.
We hadn't expected to find the place shattered to pieces when we carried Papa Idoha's body through it for his final rights of passage.
For all we know it might have been broken for months. After all, the last passage ceremony had been put off in hopes that Papa Idoha would recover soon.

Maybe the gods have had their fill of the atrocities in the land and we have finally been left to our doom.


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