CHAPTER 1
Formation of the Great Kingdom
About three hundred decades ago, there lived a kingdom called Jakoma Kingdom. This kingdom was filled with the cries of the ancestors, who in their desire longed for a greater kingdom—one that would command respect, be feared by other kingdoms, and remain united without disunity among themselves.
In Jakoma Kingdom, every morning one could hear the cries of mothers over their children, never knowing whose turn it would be to fall into the trap of slave merchants from neighboring kingdoms. There was no one to console or fight for them. Even the Onowu (traditional prime minister), Mr. Ogadu, who was supposed to monitor the affairs of the kingdom, was nothing but a puppet—like a broomstick used for sweeping. He had been chosen by the neighboring kingdom, and so he divulged every necessary information to them. The gains he received from the trade merchants made him deaf to the cries of grieving mothers.
The Okale Kingdom, closest to Jakoma, was one of the most powerful out of the seven kingdoms. Its king, King Eweta, enslaved able-bodied men and newborn children (especially boys), selling them to trade merchants in his town. Some of the newborns were used as yearly sacrifices to please their gods, for the gods demanded four newborn boys every year. Mothers whose children escaped being sold or sacrificed rejoiced, yet they remained sorrowful, knowing that once their sons grew, they might still be sold to merchants. King Eweta sold them not only to enrich himself but also to make his kingdom more powerful, using the wealth to build fortifications that enemies could not penetrate and to purchase sophisticated weapons.
After many years of enduring this pain and the fear of enslavement, three vibrant youths arose. They were among the children who had escaped sacrifice and slavery.
The first was Takere, a strong hunter who could kill any animal—including lions and elephants—with ease. He sold the meat to generate money, bringing some home for himself and his parents. Many ladies loved him because of his strength. People often wondered why King Eweta had not killed or enslaved him, for he frequently fought with Okale warriors. Though flogged and starved at the king's order, he was always released.
The second was Efeta, a great magician, though not well known in the village. His parents had died when he was just five years old, and so he grew up alone in the bush, hiding from trade merchants. As he grew, he discovered his unique abilities and learned to defend himself. Because of this, he no longer feared anyone. Yet people wondered why he could not use his magic to save the entire community. Whenever they asked him, his only reply was, "The gods know." Unable to contain his emotions, he would often cry in solitude, fully aware of the suffering of his people.
The third was Maturu, a brave farmer. Many wondered why he was not a hunter, for after finishing his farm work each day, he would often enter the bush to catch animals with ease. Many women tried to entice him, hoping for his love, but their efforts were fruitless. Some even mocked him as impotent, asking how he could resist them after exposing their bodies. Yet, they still desired him, for they knew if they married him, they would never suffer.
One day, Takere, Efeta, and Maturu met secretly to discuss how to solve the problems of their kingdom. They decided to wage war against Okale, the kingdom that had long frustrated their lives. But Takere expressed concern: "What if the other kingdoms come to their aid? You know we are few, especially men."
Efeta replied, "The gods know everything. I believe they will blindfold the eyes of the other kingdoms, keeping them from interfering."
Maturu responded, "As you have said, let the gods hear our cry."
"Amen," added Efeta.
They began to plan in secret, gathering strong youths like themselves. But before informing anyone of the mission, they required each youth to take an oath and explained the consequences of breaking it. In this way, they gathered a band of warriors. Together, they secretly prepared weapons capable of penetrating the enemy's defenses. The entire village, including their wives and parents, knew nothing of their plans.
When the day came, they revealed their departure for battle to their families. Their loved ones were shocked and wept bitterly, knowing how powerful Okale was. To them, it was like sheep going willingly to the slaughter. Worse still, the Onowu had already sent word of their mission to Okale through a guard.
This betrayal placed them at greater risk. However, Okale underestimated them, considering Jakoma too weak and unworthy of calling for outside help. Shortly after, the Onowu was poisoned by an unknown hand, and he died instantly. The villagers sang:
It has ended for the puppet Onowu,
It has ended for him.
Our god has fought for us.
He has done evil,
He wanted our people to die in battle.
No, no—it can't be.
Yet even with his death, the people still wept, fearing that the war could not be won since their plans had been exposed.
On the battlefield, the fight was fierce. Each man held tightly to his opponent—blood for blood. Efeta used what little magic he could to confuse the enemy. Maturu and Takere fought like furious lions, breaking Okale's defenses and slaughtering their warriors. In the end, Jakoma gained dominion over Okale. Their victory was loud, though costly, for many Jakoma youths lay dead, and others were grievously wounded. Maturu himself died on the battlefield. Takere and Efeta wept bitterly but returned with the surviving youths, singing the song of victory.
When the villagers saw them from afar, they rejoiced and wept at the same time. Despite their triumph, many families were in mourning. After three months of celebration, tragedy struck again—Efeta died mysteriously. No one knew the cause, but the people wailed, declaring that a great warrior had joined his friend Maturu.
Two months later, the villagers crowned Takere as their king. Other kingdoms feared Jakoma since the fall of Okale, and the people rejoiced to finally have a king who could fight for them. Takere married a beautiful woman, and every year he decreed a festival to honor the fallen warriors.
For ten years, King Takere reigned successfully, winning many battles. Yet, his wife, Queen Adora, remained childless. This worried him greatly, for he wondered who would inherit his throne. Still, out of love, he refused to take another wife, despite the elders' advice. "When the time comes," he told them, "my wife will give birth."
After twenty years, Queen Adora finally conceived and bore twin boys. The chief priest warned that if both were allowed to live, they would one day divide the kingdom, for both were powerful and unwilling to serve under the other. Tears filled the eyes of Takere, Adora, and the elders. Yet Takere refused to kill innocent children. The twins, Fetusa and Iyeta, grew into strong, handsome young men, but both set their eyes on the throne. Their father often cautioned them, but destiny could not be altered.
After forty-five years on the throne, King Takere died. The villagers mourned, singing:
The great king of Jakoma is dead,
Takere the Takere!
Who can take your place?
You have joined your friends Maturu and Efeta,
After your struggle for us.
Rest and rest,
In peace, in peace,
With your ancestors.
Takere was buried with his forefathers, honored as the first king of Jakoma. But the question remained: Who would be the next king?