Tales of the Zinobian Queen

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Tales of the Zinobian Queen

By Chimwekele Okoro

Spring 2025 Invited Student Contributor

9 October, 2024

"Did I ever tell you why your name is Zikora?"

The day Grandma arrived, I went to the balcony to sit with her. Grandpa was already fast asleep and Grandma thought it would be nice to step outside to breathe the air in. She said it reminded her of the many days she sat at her rocking chair outside the old village house. For many years, she only left the house because of things she believed she could not avoid: school, marriage, work trips. Now, the house still stood, but she was no longer there.

It was within these circumstances that she decided to tell me what my name meant. Up until that moment, I never questioned it. When I arrived in the United States a couple of years ago and people asked what my name meant, I told them I did not know. The possibility of finding out what my name meant was unsettling. This, coupled with Grandma's grave expression, added to my unease.

"No, I don't remember you telling me that."

I came into the country with my aunt and uncle. After my parents’ death, I moved in with them.

Grandma clicked her tongue.

"You must know what your name means. A name is the best predictor of a person's destiny!"

I bit the inside of my cheek, a bit amused by Grandma's statement.

"Well, can a person not live a life contrary to what their name means? Can a person not have a name that has an objective meaning?"

Grandma furrowed her brows at me. "Well, if a person does not live according to the meaning of their name, it changes the objective meaning of that name. It converts it into something new—something of their own design, for better or worse. In fact, a person's name cannot have objective meaning, because everybody's manifestation of their name is different."

I wanted to ask whether she thought people should be given names posthumously, but decided against it.

"What does my name mean, Grandma?"

She exhaled. "Zikoranachimamaka was the name your mother wanted you to have. Your father wanted to name you Adah. Since it means 'first daughter' in Igbo, and you indeed are the first daughter amongst your cousins, you have both names." She said this because even though I had no siblings, my cousins and I had a relationship that could only be qualified as siblinghood.

"Zikoranachimamaka means 'show the world that God is good.' I see everyday how you are a manifestation of that meaning. To answer that question in relation to you, it would always be a resounding yes. From becoming an older sister to your cousins to your excellence in school, your life exemplifies God's goodness."

I smiled. Yet, I could not help but question whether God's goodness in my life depended only on the good things I did, or the things that could be objectively seen as 'success'. My life looked more like shards of mistakes that God had turned into a mosaic for His glory.

But I responded, "Thank you, Grandma."

"Yes, yes, of course, my dear." She adjusted in her seat like she had just remembered something deeper. Something more, about the meaning of my name. Her fingers rapped lightly upon my knuckles. "Sweetheart, how much do you know about the Zinobian Kingdom?”

I frowned. "I haven't heard about that, what was it?"

"Well, it began with an ancient family... a family even more ancient than the stones that make up the caves containing the historical etchings in our village. It dates to the legend of a princess who had your name, and the will of a powerful people. This is part of the reason your mother chose your name."

I leaned in, my brows furrowed. A Princess? How come I had no idea about this? "What did this Queen do?"

"The Zinobian Kingdom was one with immense power and wealth, but the kingdom was internally divided. I will get to that later, as I narrate more about it. My father told me this, you see, and he made sure to do it in a sequential manner. Things make a lot more sense when you do that.

"Zinobia was surrounded by a kingdom called the Kaijuban Kingdom. A time came when the plumonium buried deep within Zinobia's soil ran out. This resource was important, because it was the Kingdom's main export to other kingdoms. At that moment, the King knew the best option for the sake of the people—if not for his own sake—would be to forge a partnership between both kingdoms, to make a mutually acceptable arrangement to preserve peace.

"But no, he did not do that. Instead, he went into the ancient gardens; a place nobody knew—not even his wife—and took out a seed. This seed was one believed to have a kind of dark magic ingrained into its very essence; one that even the Witch of the Deep refused to harness. But the king had met the Witch of the Deep once, and she mentioned the seed's power to cause the very ground it was planted on to send forth prosperity across the entire land. The Witch told him the consequences—for every immorality has drastic consequences—but the gullible King ran with what he heard, disregarding any inkling he might have had to do the opposite.

"He dug a hole into the ground and planted the seed. He ignored the warnings because he preferred to try his hand at even immoral means to achieve an aim that would make his kingdom the greatest. In his eyes, nothing was good enough, and when a person sees nothing as good, 'great' will evade him. Every evening, he came out to check on this seed. Soon, the seed became a sapling, then its stem shot upward as the months passed. During this time, the Queen began to suspect that something eerie was going on. One evening, she walked a few paces behind her husband as he crept towards the gardens.

"But she only made it a few steps before Dalu came up to her to distract her, and she lost track of where her husband was going.

"The King was more comfortable with telling his manservant than his wife, because the servant never questioned him; never called him out on his selfishness. He feared that the Queen would tell the Parliament, who knew that the only means to ensure Zinobia's progress was to meet with Kaijuba. Of course, he did not want that."

"But, Grandma," I interjected. "If the Parliament was there the whole time, and they were aware that there was no longer plumonium, why didn't they send spies out, at least, to get plumonium to Zinobia?"

"My dear, the King made sure to keep sentries all across the borders of the kingdom.

Nothing happened within the kingdom that he did not know about. Such was the chokehold he had over his own people."

"The kingdom was turning tyrannical," I noted.

"Indeed. The King did not learn from his father's example, but instead, turned his rule into a dictatorship. This is what birthed a desire for self-determination within the Zinobian people—but I'm getting ahead of myself; let me continue.

"Months passed, and what was once a seedling began to grow into something sturdy, with branches that covered the floors with a shadow that should have been sign enough to the king that he had introduced a monstrous power. Yet, the King tended to this tree like his life depended on it, for he now believed that the tree not only had powers to protect and empower his kingdom—at the expense of the people, of course—but also preserved his youth. At the first appearance of fruit, he cut it out and made his servant, Dalu, eat it, because he was concerned it would be poisonous. It was a day later, when the king realized that Dalu had not died or faced any side-effects that he plucked another one out, and bit into it. At this, he solidified his fate. The tree became the source of his fulfillment and delight—the object of his affection.

"But he could not keep it a secret forever. The one person he never expected to discover what he was doing found out about it: his daughter."

My eyes widened. "What? How did she find out? Why did Dalu not stop her the way he stopped the Queen?"

"You see, the princess had a propensity to stay for hours at the library. She was either at the library, or speaking for hours on end with her people, listening to them express their grievances about her father, listening to their complaints and dreams, and calming their suspicions about her. The Queen no longer tried to stop her because she was adamant, and refused to sit at home whenever she had time on her hands — which was most of the time.

"One afternoon, she discovered a book within the archives which claimed that there were mystical seeds in the ancient gardens below the palace. The king was unaware that the book existed, since he thought nobody knew about the seed but him and his father, who told him about the seed. But this seed was something that was hidden in the ancient gardens because the king's predecessors were aware of the dangers that would happen if the tree blossomed to maturity. This is why they wrote about it in the book Princess Zikora discovered. They added an encrypted map that pointed to the ancient gardens. A code she knew connected to the labyrinthine layout of the palace's underground passage network. Since she was familiar with the layout from many years of wandering, it was not difficult to decode it.

"At this, she followed the map, ensuring that no one was on her tail. She used a different route to what her father was familiar with, and ended up at the other side of the gardens. She examined the book to clarify that the tree within its pages was the one in front of her, and terror gripped her when she realized that it was. So she turned back to leave, but..."

"Oh, no! The King found her?"

"Indeed. She knew she was in trouble. The King could not believe what he saw. Never in his wildest dreams would he have expected that his daughter would find out what he was doing. “‘What are you doing here, Zikora?’ She tried to hide the book behind her, but her father had already seen it. ‘Are you trying to keep something from me?’ Zikora's head dropped as a deep heaviness consumed her spirit. But she straightened her spine as she glowered at him.

“‘Why would you ask me that question when you have been here this whole time—I cannot even imagine how many months! – tending to this stupid tree?’

“The King slammed his fist on the wall beside him. ‘This tree is the reason why Zinobia is so powerful! It is the reason we can be autonomous! Because of this tree, we are the strongest kingdom to ever exist!’

“‘No, Papa, we are the weakest! You have kept your mind focused on how powerful the Kingdom looks, but have been ignorant to our people!’

“‘Zikora! How dare you speak to me like that?!’

“She stepped forward, and her next words came through gritted teeth. "If you focus any more of your attention on this tree, you don't deserve any shred of my respect!"

“Her father's back hand flew onto her cheek, and Zikora spat blood onto the dry garden soil. The book escaped her grip, and Dalu was quick to seize it. ‘My dear, it doesn't have to end this way.’

“Zikora remained undaunted, as a wan smile crept across her features. ‘No, it wouldn't. The people will kill you themselves.’

"This was the last straw. He commanded that Dalu take her to the guards, to be taken to the dungeons. But as she was dragged out of the King's sight, she made a solemn oath: ‘When the people come for you, I will be part of their number. You will watch while your beloved tree goes up in flames!’

"The exact night when the princess was placed behind bars, she managed to find a way to escape without getting caught. Yet, the very fabric of the kingdom was destroyed. Things went on as usual for the king: he tended to the tree, and went back into his quarters. But the princess left for a village far away from the palace."

"Whoa, Grandma!" I exclaimed. "How did she escape?" "That part, I do not know."

"What?! That's one of the most incredible parts of the story, and you don't know?" "There are arguably a lot more important parts of the story... like the king planting the tree, the king's interaction with the Witch of the Deep... oop! Sorry for letting that slip."

It was in that moment, under the cool glint of the moonlight that I realized one thing: while Grandma was an excellent storyteller, suspense was not her forte.

"Please, continue."

"Of course! It did not take long for the king to realize that Zikora was missing, but by that time, it was too late. She went to the one place he never would have expected her to be: Kaijuba. Apart from the Zinobian friends who were with her, she had a lot of Kaijuban allies who were willing to support her in her efforts to dethrone the king.

"Meanwhile, the king noticed something strange happening to the tree. The fruit did not taste as sweet as it once had. The stem began to darken, and the king watched in horror as the fruit withered and rotted. All of a sudden, people began to fall ill and die from a virus that was infecting the water. Hence, the King went into the forest to ask the Witch of the Deep why all of this was happening. He was so unconscionable that he could not come to terms with the consequences of his arrogance.

“He called out into the dark and foggy night, but the witch did not come out. He shouted even louder, and at this point, he felt insulted: how dare the Witch not respond to him! The atmosphere shifted within the forest. The fog began to dissipate, and the Witch appeared. Her black hair was a stark contrast to her piercing silver eyes .

“‘The King of Zinobia,’ she remarked. ‘To what do I owe this visit?’

"The King straightened his back, for he wanted to appear regal and as invulnerable as possible, even though the very reason why he was in the forest was to request her help. Now, nobody with a sound mind went to the Witch, because she was prone to use unpredictable methods to solve the ailments or unwanted situations her... clients brought to her attention. She once requested the head of a child. She also once requested stakes in a kingdom that was eventually destroyed because the forces of evil working within the kingdom became too powerful.

"But the king was not thinking straight—if at all—and he was blind to how his own actions were the reason why his people were dying. ‘My people are dying from a virus that has infected the water within my kingdom. Are you responsible for this?’

"Her chortle turned into a hearty laugh that reverberated through the very ground the king was standing on. ‘Me?’

“The King clenched his fists. ‘Yes. I don't know what evil you have been up to-’

“‘You are in charge of your own kingdom, and anything that happens falls on your head. I reckon that whatever is happening is nobody's fault but yours.’

“‘How dare-’

“The Witch slammed her scepter on the ground. ‘You come into my abode and have the audacity to question me? You come into this forest, seeking my guidance, and you dare to be so pompous and blind to your own actions?’

“The King gathered his robes and started to turn. He came to confront her, not to get a lecture. But the Witch began a rhythmic pounding of her scepter on the ground. Her eyes became a blinding white, and the air around her scepter began to whirl.

“‘For one crime and for many,

Your kingdom, once indomitable

Will become as noteworthy as a stable

For the one you take as kin

Will overpower your schemes

And the death of a people

Will be stopped by the rise

Of a crown disguised.’

"After saying this, the witch faded into the darkness, and the King began his journey back to the palace."

I thought to myself for a moment. "What does that mean?"

Grandma's eyes met mine beneath the glint of the moonlight. "Listen, and you'll find out. “Hardly a day had passed before the people marched to the palace. The King and Queen were awoken that night by the distinct smell of smoke, and a boisterous clamor outside. ‘What is going on?’ The King rushed to the balcony overlooking the palace grounds and a view of the rust-stained roofs and abundant trees that made up Zinobia's landscape. But that day, people stretched out as far as his eyes could see. Dread settled in his stomach as he searched his mind frantically for what to do. And then, he decided where he would go. ‘Follow me!’

“The Queen snatched her arm out of his grip. ‘You choose to run now?’ She was suddenly seized by laughter so rapturous, the King flinched. ‘There is nowhere to hide from this!’

“He suddenly remembered his daughter's warning, and since he could not think straight, and also because he was astonishingly self-absorbed, he rushed towards the pathway leading to the one place he believed he would be protected: the ancient gardens. But the moment he got there, he spotted his daughter inside, waiting for him. He tried to retrace his steps, but someone began to close in on him. He was surrounded. ‘Zikora, I love you. Remember that.’

“Tears pricked her eyelids. Yet, she remained silent, as the people brought him further into the gardens.

“Someone whispered to another: ‘How does the tree grow without sunlight?’

“They earned a glare from all but Zikora. She was focused on her father, as he raised both hands and knelt on the kerosene-drenched garden soil.

“‘Eze! They are coming! Eze!’ It was Dalu, but he was too late. Someone pushed him into the gardens, and then nodded to Zikora before setting the tree on fire. She watched her father wince as he witnessed the tree burn. His countenance shifted, and Zikora realized just how insidious his worship had become.

“While the tree burned and the fire engulfed the compost, the dried leaves, her father's cloak; she touched her fingers to her lips, and pressed them to the floor. ‘Goodbye, Papa.’”

Grandma took a breath, then continued. "After that, she and her army fought against the guards. This went on from dusk till the wee hours of morning. At the end, Zikora looked at the carnage that had happened, and the palace which was now in flames. She turned to look at her people, and broke into tears."

"What?" I asked. "Why?"

Grandma gave me an incredulous look. "If you went through all of that, would you have a sound mind?"

I bit my lip. "So, was it her overwhelm that brought her to tears?"

"Indeed. It all felt too much. She stood with people who had come out, not just for her cause, but for all of their causes. They came out not for the sake of a revolution, but for the sake of common respect for the value and humanity of all of them. This realization is what brought her to tears—as her new reality settled in her heart in that moment, she couldn't hold in the emotion.” Grandma exhaled again. "It's getting late. You must go to bed."

"What! Is that the end of the story? How does she become their Queen?" "Ah, I almost forgot that part... She didn't."

My eyes widened. "Why not?"

"She was not Queen because of an official reinstatement. She was Queen by virtue of a title the people gave her because she acknowledged Zinobia's right to self-determination. The place where the palace was became the Presidential House. The Parliament dissolved, and Zikora became the President of the newly founded country. Zinobian history goes beyond that: there was an assassination attempt and many internal revolutions—her father's rule made the Kingdom internally divided; people from other kingdoms doubted her leadership abilities, so there was war. However, that's a story for another day. In fact, I'll get you a book about it!”

My eyes widened. "An assassination attempt?"

“Yes.” She furrowed her brows. “I don't know why your Uncle and Aunt did not tell you about this."

I stood and held onto the banister. "Yeah, I wonder why..."

There was silence, and then Grandma rose. "Well, I'm off to bed now. Good night, my love."

"Good night, Grandma,” I responded, but my mind was elsewhere as I considered the story I had just been told. I could not help but wonder where Zinobia could be, since it became a country with self-determination after the revolution happened. And in that moment, an insatiable desire to see it—even if just once—was born.

Yet, even as I thought about that, the Prophecy ran through my mind like an echo.

"For one crime and for many,