Some battles are never announced. They hide beneath laughter, courtesy, and shared history, growing quietly until time, jealousy, and wounded pride awaken them. This is the beginning of Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) chapter two: the weight of old wounds, where the past refuses to stay buried.
Truly, some battles are not fought on the battlefield. They linger in memory, jealousy, and unresolved pride, waiting for the right moment to resurface. Enjoy this chapter two…
Miss chapter one? Click here to read
Up next: Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) – Chapter Three: Blood on a Peaceful Night
Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) Chapter Two: The Weight of Old Wounds
Ihemjika paused for a long while, as though sifting through memories he had learned to live with but never truly healed from. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, almost weary, like a man tired of revisiting the same wound.
“I honestly do not know, Nkem,” he said slowly. “I truly do not. To be frank, I do not even know how to answer that question.”
He paused again, gathering his thoughts, then continued.
“You are right. Utaka has been this way since our childhood. I do not know why he hates me so much, but he has vowed to deal with me. I cannot remember doing anything to deserve it.”
He leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
“According to my mother, Utaka’s mother and mine went into labor at the same time. We were delivered in the same place. But as my chi would have it, I was born about two hours before him. I do not know how that became an issue.”
A faint, bitter smile crossed his face.
“From that day, he started dragging age with me. Even as children, whenever we played or whenever things were shared for children to pick, and I happened to pick before him, it was as if the earth should open and swallow him. I never understood it. Yes, we are age mates but for him to accept that I am older than him has always been a problem.”
He sighed deeply.
“And I still do not understand what he wants to do with that age.”
He turned to her.
“Do you remember what happened before we went to war with Iheama village?”
Nkemdilim nodded slowly, her attention fully fixed on him.
“The youths of the village were assembled by the Igwe for a wrestling contest,” Ihemjika continued, “so that the strongest would be chosen to lead the others to war. Iheama village had come to attack our kingdom. To claim our land and reduce us to slaves.”
His voice grew firmer, stronger with memory.
“Utaka did everything possible to win that contest. I must admit – he is strong. Very strong. But who was I to say no when my chi had already said yes?”
Click here to read our powerful short drama story, When Blood Is Not Enough
He paused, then continued quietly.
“At the end of it all, I won.”
Nkemdilim’s eyes widened as she listened.
“Just as the Igwe was about to announce me as the leader, the chief warrior who would lead the others – Utaka declared, right there in the village square, that he would never accept it. He said he was the one who would lead, even before the Igwe and the elders.”
Ihemjika shook his head slowly.
“That act alone forced the Igwe and the council to cancel the contest. Another wrestling match was arranged, this time, only between Utaka and me.”
He looked away briefly, his jaw tightening.
“Utaka trained day and night. He prepared himself with everything he had. But when the day came, I defeated him completely. I was declared the leader-the chief warrior who would lead the men to fight Iheama village.”
His voice dropped.
“Utaka could not take it. Immediately, he fled from the kingdom to his mother’s land. He swore he would never serve under me. He said he would never bow to a man he considered his age mate.”
Nkemdilim covered her mouth in shock.
“The Igwe was furious,” Ihemjika went on. “The whole village was angry. He was almost banished, along with his father, if not for the intervention of my father and other elders who pleaded on his behalf.”
He continued steadily.
“The Igwe took away his land-his birthright. His father handed it over to the Igwe to save him from banishment.”
Ihemjika straightened.
“Utaka did not return until the war was over. With my chi beside me, we won. Under my leadership, our village defeated Iheama village. That is why they remain under us till today. They cannot do anything without the Igwe’s authority.”
He paused.
“That respect I earned never left me. From that day, the elders favored me. My farms prospered. As you know, I became wealthy.” His voice softened. “The only place I lack is in childbearing.”
Miss chapter one? Click here to read
Nkemdilim reached for his hand.
“And that,” he continued, “is what Utaka has vowed to use against me.”
He sighed deeply.
“When the war ended, Utaka returned months later. The Igwe wanted to banish him again, but once more, elders intervened. He stayed—but his land was gone forever. His hatred for me doubled.”
Ihemjika looked directly at his wife.
“Everything became worse when I married you.”
Nkemdilim stiffened.
“I never knew he had feelings for you. I never suspected it. But when our wedding was announced, he attacked me one day on the farm. He accused me of taking everything from him-his respect, his dream of becoming chief warrior, his land… and then he said I was taking the only woman he ever loved.”
Nkemdilim gasped.
“I was shocked,” Ihemjika said quietly. “I never knew he had eyes on you.”
She interrupted gently, holding his arm.
“Calm down, Ihem. I understand it now. Truly, I do.”
She looked into his eyes.
“You know I have nothing to do with Utaka. Nothing at all. Yes, whenever I go to the stream, he follows me around, confessing love, but he is not my kind of man.”
She smiled softly.
“I have always wanted you. From the very first day I saw you during that wrestling contest. You had everything I needed in a husband. My eyes were on you and never on Utaka.”
Her voice trembled slightly as she continued.
“You know I have always been a reserved woman. My parents hardly allowed me to go out. I stayed mostly indoors. The only time I ever left the house was when I went to the stream to bathe and even then, I always went with some of my father’s maidens.”
She paused, eyes distant.
“But Utaka… he became a thorn in my flesh. Each time I went to the stream, he appeared, calling my name endlessly, confessing love without shame.”
She shook her head.
“I refused him. I told him I didn’t want him, but he wouldn’t stop.”
Her voice softened.
“I did not even know you then. Not until that wrestling contest.”
She smiled faintly.
“The day you defeated Utaka during the rematch… something happened to me. When you went to war and returned victorious, the Igwe organized a celebration. All the maidens danced but I danced without reserve.”
Her eyes glowed.
“You noticed me. You loved the way I danced. That was the first day you spoke to me without knowing I had already loved you long before then.”
Ihemjika smiled warmly.
Click here to read our powerful short drama story, When Blood Is Not Enough
“How can I forget?” he said. “Your dance that day was exceptional.”
They laughed softly.
“That dance,” he said, “was what drew me to you.”
She nodded.
“Yes. And when you asked for my hand, our parents agreed immediately. Your mother loved me dearly. If not for childlessness, she would never have turned against me.”
Her voice cracked.
Ihemjika held her hands.
“It’s okay, Nkem. I trust our chi. At the right time, they will do what is right.”
“Isee,” she whispered.
A quiet moment passed.
Then she laughed lightly. “You said you brought farm produce. I haven’t seen it.”
Ihemjika sprang up. “Ah! I forgot!”
They laughed together, gathering the scattered produce, joy briefly chasing away pain.
When they were done, he smiled at her fondly.
“My beautiful woman,” he said softly. “Tomorrow makes five years. And I want our celebration to start tonight.”
He took her hand.
“I have something for you in the bedroom.”
She laughed. “You won’t tell me now?”
“No,” he grinned.
He lifted her into his arms, laughter filling the night as they disappeared into their room holding onto joy, even as unseen storms gathered ahead.
Up next: Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) – Chapter Three: Blood on a Peaceful Night
Story Continues
The past has spoken but its consequences are yet to unfold.
This story is only the beginning of Nkemdilim’s journey. The trials of love, patience, and faith continue, and her story will inspire and challenge you.
If you were moved by this story, don’t miss our previous real-life inspired drama, “When Blood Is Not Enough”, where courage, sacrifice, and resilience define a family torn apart by betrayal and rebuilt by love.
Click here to read Chapter Three of Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) and continue the journey.
Also, read “When Blood Is Not Enough” for another powerful story of faith, family, and the strength of character.
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