Has anyone ever died of complaining, or was Oghogho going to be the first? And when he meets his maker, that one too will experience this insufferable man that was his brother in everything. His best friend.
He tuned out the man waffling beside him and continued to place the masks and statues in boxes.
“You can’t ignore me, o. You cannot.”
“I want to know if we don’t want to steal this for the oyibo- I want to know what will happen?”
“Wait, you want to find out why they call them men of Thunder, or do you want to leave here alive and richer even?”
‘What kind of wealth is that? I heard what they did to the palace, now they have asked us to do the same thing to the shrines. Are you not afraid?”
“Why would I be, Oghogho?” He shrugged, using a finger to drag sweat across his forehead and flicked it to the ground.
“I stopped being afraid of these shrines when I saw the power of that metal weapon they carry. The pit is filled with bodies of medicine men and their followers who tried to stop them. Plus… “he wagged a finger in his face- “if they need new statues, the royal guild of bronze casters will make more. Your little brother is one of them.”
“This is easy work. We pack them up, get paid and go home. You must be the only man in Edo Kingdom who is averse to wealth. Now stop thinking and lift this with me”. He pointed to the mask in the corner of the room, a large head with several smaller heads sitting on its crown.
Oghogho sighed. He wasn’t getting anywhere.
They lifted the boxes one by one onto the cart. He could not shake the feeling that maybe there was something to worry about, no matter what his friend said.
The cart of soldiers and boxes pulled away. He felt the weight of money in his palm, heavier than the artefacts, heavier than guilt. He told himself it was worth it. But his hands wouldn’t stop trembling, even as they walked to the next shrine.
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