Sunday 29 April 2012

A Cry of Death

The cult gathered round the bonfire and danced feverishly. Ikotun, the dance leader’s eyes shifted demonically rolling back severally in a tradition of worship. It was an initiation ceremony.



The Klan cult was started when the founder’s sister was mistakenly killed during a cult clash on campus. The young lady had not been a part of the warring factions and had unfortunately been caught in the cross fire. Her older brother was unforgiving.
The Klan cult was a widely known one in campus circles all over the country for their weird beliefs and insane acts which brought sorrow and death to them and their loved ones. They were also known for their viciousness in executing laws, principles and judgement. They were a blood-thirsty group.



He went on a guerrilla mission, taking out members of both cults one at a time. It was a life’s mission to eradicate every single one of them. Soon, his best friend joined him, and then another friend, and then another. They soon realized they needed to have a secure organisation. Klan was formed. Their laws were wearying. Their demands were outrageous but alas, their members were larger than life. They commanded respect in every campus they belonged. Authorities revered them, students panicked whenever they saw them.


Like all other cults, the Klan met in the dead of the night. They sacrificed to unseen gods, did rituals of blood and covenants and had their merry moments together. On this bonfire night, there were two people present for initiation, a man and a woman. Originally, the Klan accepted only men but gradually, ladies were accepted. The new members were processed first by old members to be sure they were strong and genuine enough to be part of the cult. After ascertaining their fitness, they are invited to the first meeting with the Klan.


The bonfire night.


Bonfire night was a lot of fun for old members but the night of evil for the new ones. The old members had a goat barbecue with lots of food and strong drink. For the new members, the boys were beaten by every member while the girls were raped. You couldn’t be a bona fide member of the Klan if you were not put through this ritual.


Ruka sat solemnly at the corner where she had been tied with the young man about to be initiated. Only one thing was on her mind, the sex! She had counted at least ten boys so far dancing round the fire. One by one, they would come on to her when they were well-drunk. She wasn’t afraid of sex, just the number that would do it. And she knew they would start with the new member, before the poor boy would be taken away to be given the beating of his life. The ring leaders of the Klan were not yet in the meeting... she envisaged they would be at least three... that makes at least thirteen!


She had her mind made up; there was no going back. She needed the power, the presence, and the protection only the Klan could give. She knew what she wanted. She swallowed hard and turned her mind off every other thing. She had been through the tedious screening; running miles on end through a thick forest, swimming through a river for over three hours… This was the last leg. She was in for the long haul. She would not chicken out here.


The scribe of the Klan gave a loud cry, a cry of death, from out of nowhere. Ruka shuddered and closed her eyes. They had been briefed of the procedures but more than anything, she could feel it. It was time. She had never met any of the leaders but from talk around campus she knew the scribe was young but very hard. Perhaps meaner than even the Klan head. The music and dancing ceased. Ruka’s eyes popped open. Three men stood with their backs to her. The leaders, she thought. Ikotun began to convulse as was the tradition. 
“Bring the fresh meat!” 


Ikotun ran to the edge with three others and brought them. The scribe, along with the other two, turned. He looked up and raised his hands in the air. All the other members circled the new intakes.  It was time for the sex-dance. The drummers began to beat the rhythm. 


Both were untied and undressed. The boy could not get an erection and burst into tears. Ruka shuddered at the implication of this... poor boy was doomed. He was dragged away amidst heart-rending screeching. The scribe moved forward and stood in front of Ruka. She looked up at him for the first time and screamed.
“Haruna!” 


The scribe stepped back, shocked. He gave a loud cry, his cry of death. The Klan head stepped forward beside him and spoke rapidly. Haruna turned to him with a gasp, interrupting his angry tirade. “My sister. No, please!” His young face crumbled. No one pleaded in the Klan. No one stopped an initiation for any reason. No one challenged the head… Ruka saw the doom. Haruna would be forced to have sex with her or die.


Ruka fainted.  Doom.


By Sinmisola Ogunyinka

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