Ikemefuna Alternate Ending
Over the next few days, I gradually started to learn more and more about Ikemefuna. Ikemefuna started to talk to me a lot more after he had known me for just a few days. He told me that he was 14 years old, older than me by 2 years. I liked hearing stories about him and his village. He told me about his family. One day I turned to him and asked, “Your village sounds great, but why are you here?” He glanced at me, eyes full of tears and replied, “I am not sure. I was sitting in my home with my family one day when a group of men came and took me here.”
I avoided looking at his eyes because I didn’t want to see him cry. But that didn’t stop him from crying anyway as he wept bitter tears. That night as I lay in my bed I tried to whisper to him, hoping that we would be able to have a conversation. “Ikemefuna,” I whispered, hoping that he was not asleep. I knew that he was still awake because he was whimpering softly in his bed. After I realized that he would not talk to me I turned around and eventually dozed off.
Days after that incident, Ikemefuna seemed to start becoming more and more hostile. He would not eat his food or talk to me as much as he used to. It was just like how he initially came. At first I thought that he was upset because he didn’t want to have to eat yams every day, but then …show more content…
I realized that Ikemefuna was homesick. Almost every afternoon, I would hear him saying to my mother, “When shall I leave?” My mother always replied to him, “ I am not sure, honey.” I realized that my mother had started treating him like a son, but I was not jealous of him because I treated him like a brother.
I felt sympathy for Ikemefuna because I knew that he was facing a hard time. I tried to talk to him every day, but he didn’t keep up conversations like he used to. When I asked him questions, he sometimes started grumbling or giving me one word answers. One day, I walked up to him while he was standing near the gates. I looked at him and said, “Ikemefuna, you promised me that you would teach me to make an arrow and bow. Can you come and teach me now?” He just looked at me, a sad look in his eyes, and said “Not today.” Then he turned around and walked away from me into the hut.
After my father was informed by my mother that Ikemefuna was not eating, my father stormed into the hut when it was time to eat. He brought a big stick in his hand, and he stood staring at Ikemefuna while Ikemefuna sat on the floor, looking down. I knew that Ikemefuna had noticed my father’s presence because he started to tremble a little. Then Ikemefuna reached out his hand and he started to eat the yams that my mother had placed in front of him. I then realized that the reason that Ikemefuna was shaking and eating his food was that he was scared of my father. Ikemefuna had big tears in his eyes, but the tears would not roll down his face. His face looked a little queasy.
After looking at him for a while I realized that Ikemefuna was sick. I turned away from him, because I didn’t want to see him barf into his food. My father didn’t really seem to notice that Ikemefuna was looking ill. Sometimes my father seems to have a hard time catching other people’s emotions because he seems to only know anger. After Ikemefuna finished his food, he ran behind my mother’s hut and heaved. All of sudden, he started to cough and throw up big yam clumps. I was completely disgusted but I felt sympathy for him nonetheless. My mother ran to Ikemefuna and placed her hands on his back and his chest. I turned away from them, not wanting to see the throw up and feeling a little germy and disgusted.
Ikemefuna was sick. Every time I went in the hut to check in on him, he was asleep. “Ssshhhh,” my mother would whisper every time my siblings and I were making too much noise. “Ikemefuna is asleep” she said. “Do not wake him up. Sleep is the cure for illness.”
One day my mother and I snuck off to the temple when my father was at his friend, Obierika’s house. One we reached the temple, we prayed to the gods that Ikemefuna would start to feel better. When we finished praying, my mother said, “Nwoye let’s go home. We do not know when your father will come back and we do not have permission from him to be here.” So we hurriedly walked back home and found that my father was still gone and that Ikemefuna still asleep. So my mother started to cook and I went to chop up wood for fire. A few days later, Ikemefuna had started to feel better. When I came into the hut I started to find him more awake than asleep. He greeted me whenever I came in by waving his hand. I would wave my hand back and make it over to the bed. We talked about everything. He told me more about the things he had learned in his village. One day during our visits, he looked and me and asked “Did you know that I know how to hunt?” “Really?” I exclaimed, “My father doesn’t let me do that yet. He says that I have to prove I am a man before I can do manly stuff.” “I’ll teach you how, when I get better,” he promised.
Ikemefuna was like an older brother to me. We never ran out of things to talk about. When Ikemefuna got better, my father would send us into his hut and tell us stories of blood and war. Whenever he talked of a particularly scary part like when he was talking about how Musair got his head chopped off, he would look at me as if looking to see if I was about to run off. His stories always made me squeamish, but I would never run off because Ikemefuna was there, and I didn’t want him to think I was a woman.
When it was harvest time, my father sent me to work with Ikemefuna. Then we would accompany my father to do tasks like splitting wood, or fixing the gate walls, or planting yams. I noticed that when Ikemefuna was around my father seemed to scold me less than he used to before. My father used to always scold me and threaten me before ikemefuna’s arrival. But now that Ikemefuna was here it seemed that his attitude towards me changed a little. Sometimes he would look at me after I broke a yam and give me an empty threat. “You break a yam like that one more time,” he started, “and I will break your jaw”. One day a group of men came to the house. They found Ikemefuna and I sitting by the red gates talking about different plants in the area. The men came, looked at me and said , “ Where is Okonkwo?” I pointed at his hut and said, “in there”. They walked inside my father's hut. We followed them into the hut, but once the men had started talking to my father, one of the men noticed us standing by the door and signaled us out of the hut. Ikemefuna and I walked away from my father’s hut and back to the red gates where we had sat before. “What do you think they are talking about?” Ikemefuna said, looking at me. I looked at him and answered, “I’m not sure, but it must be something private because they sent us out.” We sat there, silent, waiting for the men to leave the hut so that we could ask my father about their conversation. Once they left the hut, Ikemefuna and I went inside to find my father sitting on the floor his chin in his palms. He looked like he did not want to be disturbed so we left the hut and decided that we would come back later. Later that day, my father called Ikemefuna to come inside the hut. Ikemefuna went into the hut. When I noticed that they were both inside, I slipped next to the door in the shade where I knew that they would not be able to see me. Then I listened to what my father was saying to Ikemefuna. “Ikemefuna”, my father began. “You will be going home tomorrow.” I didn’t wait for him to finish talking.
I ran away from the hut, upset. I went to my mother. she was cooking outside of the huts near the gate. I said to her, “I heard father saying that Ikemefuna will be going home”. She dropped her stirring spoon, and turned away from me. Then I heard her sigh and say, “Poor child.” I didn’t understand why she had called Ikemefuna a poor child when Ikemefuna is going to go back to his family. I didn’t want Ikemefuna to go back to his family even though I knew that he missed them, because I really loved Ikemefuna and I knew I would miss him. So I sat in my mother’s hut all day, pretending I was asleep when really i was crying salty
tears.
The next day, the men came back to the gate. I was sitting near my father’s hut watching Ikemefuna. The men went directly into my father’s hut. My father got his ax and told Ikemefuna that it was time for him to go. Ikemefuna looked at me and waved. I waved back. Then he came to me and gave me a hug. “Nwoye,” he whispered in my ear, “I will miss you.” “I will miss you too,” I replied.
I avoided looking at his eyes because I didn’t want to see him cry. But that didn’t stop him from crying anyway as he wept bitter tears. That night as I lay in my bed I tried to whisper to him, hoping that we would be able to have a conversation. “Ikemefuna,” I whispered, hoping that he was not asleep. I knew that he was still awake because he was whimpering softly in his bed. After I realized that he would not talk to me I turned around and eventually dozed off.
Days after that incident, Ikemefuna seemed to start becoming more and more hostile. He would not eat his food or talk to me as much as he used to. It was just like how he initially came. At first I thought that he was upset because he didn’t want to have to eat yams every day, but then …show more content…
I realized that Ikemefuna was homesick. Almost every afternoon, I would hear him saying to my mother, “When shall I leave?” My mother always replied to him, “ I am not sure, honey.” I realized that my mother had started treating him like a son, but I was not jealous of him because I treated him like a brother.
I felt sympathy for Ikemefuna because I knew that he was facing a hard time. I tried to talk to him every day, but he didn’t keep up conversations like he used to. When I asked him questions, he sometimes started grumbling or giving me one word answers. One day, I walked up to him while he was standing near the gates. I looked at him and said, “Ikemefuna, you promised me that you would teach me to make an arrow and bow. Can you come and teach me now?” He just looked at me, a sad look in his eyes, and said “Not today.” Then he turned around and walked away from me into the hut.
After my father was informed by my mother that Ikemefuna was not eating, my father stormed into the hut when it was time to eat. He brought a big stick in his hand, and he stood staring at Ikemefuna while Ikemefuna sat on the floor, looking down. I knew that Ikemefuna had noticed my father’s presence because he started to tremble a little. Then Ikemefuna reached out his hand and he started to eat the yams that my mother had placed in front of him. I then realized that the reason that Ikemefuna was shaking and eating his food was that he was scared of my father. Ikemefuna had big tears in his eyes, but the tears would not roll down his face. His face looked a little queasy.
After looking at him for a while I realized that Ikemefuna was sick. I turned away from him, because I didn’t want to see him barf into his food. My father didn’t really seem to notice that Ikemefuna was looking ill. Sometimes my father seems to have a hard time catching other people’s emotions because he seems to only know anger. After Ikemefuna finished his food, he ran behind my mother’s hut and heaved. All of sudden, he started to cough and throw up big yam clumps. I was completely disgusted but I felt sympathy for him nonetheless. My mother ran to Ikemefuna and placed her hands on his back and his chest. I turned away from them, not wanting to see the throw up and feeling a little germy and disgusted.
Ikemefuna was sick. Every time I went in the hut to check in on him, he was asleep. “Ssshhhh,” my mother would whisper every time my siblings and I were making too much noise. “Ikemefuna is asleep” she said. “Do not wake him up. Sleep is the cure for illness.”
One day my mother and I snuck off to the temple when my father was at his friend, Obierika’s house. One we reached the temple, we prayed to the gods that Ikemefuna would start to feel better. When we finished praying, my mother said, “Nwoye let’s go home. We do not know when your father will come back and we do not have permission from him to be here.” So we hurriedly walked back home and found that my father was still gone and that Ikemefuna still asleep. So my mother started to cook and I went to chop up wood for fire. A few days later, Ikemefuna had started to feel better. When I came into the hut I started to find him more awake than asleep. He greeted me whenever I came in by waving his hand. I would wave my hand back and make it over to the bed. We talked about everything. He told me more about the things he had learned in his village. One day during our visits, he looked and me and asked “Did you know that I know how to hunt?” “Really?” I exclaimed, “My father doesn’t let me do that yet. He says that I have to prove I am a man before I can do manly stuff.” “I’ll teach you how, when I get better,” he promised.
Ikemefuna was like an older brother to me. We never ran out of things to talk about. When Ikemefuna got better, my father would send us into his hut and tell us stories of blood and war. Whenever he talked of a particularly scary part like when he was talking about how Musair got his head chopped off, he would look at me as if looking to see if I was about to run off. His stories always made me squeamish, but I would never run off because Ikemefuna was there, and I didn’t want him to think I was a woman.
When it was harvest time, my father sent me to work with Ikemefuna. Then we would accompany my father to do tasks like splitting wood, or fixing the gate walls, or planting yams. I noticed that when Ikemefuna was around my father seemed to scold me less than he used to before. My father used to always scold me and threaten me before ikemefuna’s arrival. But now that Ikemefuna was here it seemed that his attitude towards me changed a little. Sometimes he would look at me after I broke a yam and give me an empty threat. “You break a yam like that one more time,” he started, “and I will break your jaw”. One day a group of men came to the house. They found Ikemefuna and I sitting by the red gates talking about different plants in the area. The men came, looked at me and said , “ Where is Okonkwo?” I pointed at his hut and said, “in there”. They walked inside my father's hut. We followed them into the hut, but once the men had started talking to my father, one of the men noticed us standing by the door and signaled us out of the hut. Ikemefuna and I walked away from my father’s hut and back to the red gates where we had sat before. “What do you think they are talking about?” Ikemefuna said, looking at me. I looked at him and answered, “I’m not sure, but it must be something private because they sent us out.” We sat there, silent, waiting for the men to leave the hut so that we could ask my father about their conversation. Once they left the hut, Ikemefuna and I went inside to find my father sitting on the floor his chin in his palms. He looked like he did not want to be disturbed so we left the hut and decided that we would come back later. Later that day, my father called Ikemefuna to come inside the hut. Ikemefuna went into the hut. When I noticed that they were both inside, I slipped next to the door in the shade where I knew that they would not be able to see me. Then I listened to what my father was saying to Ikemefuna. “Ikemefuna”, my father began. “You will be going home tomorrow.” I didn’t wait for him to finish talking.
I ran away from the hut, upset. I went to my mother. she was cooking outside of the huts near the gate. I said to her, “I heard father saying that Ikemefuna will be going home”. She dropped her stirring spoon, and turned away from me. Then I heard her sigh and say, “Poor child.” I didn’t understand why she had called Ikemefuna a poor child when Ikemefuna is going to go back to his family. I didn’t want Ikemefuna to go back to his family even though I knew that he missed them, because I really loved Ikemefuna and I knew I would miss him. So I sat in my mother’s hut all day, pretending I was asleep when really i was crying salty
tears.
The next day, the men came back to the gate. I was sitting near my father’s hut watching Ikemefuna. The men went directly into my father’s hut. My father got his ax and told Ikemefuna that it was time for him to go. Ikemefuna looked at me and waved. I waved back. Then he came to me and gave me a hug. “Nwoye,” he whispered in my ear, “I will miss you.” “I will miss you too,” I replied.