THE ART OF ENDING A STORY_ BY SUMAILA ISAH UMAISHA

The hardest part of storytelling is the beginning and the ending. Yet, once you have started writing, don't worry too much about either. The opening can always be revisited, and the conclusion will take care of itself when you get there.

Of the two, the ending is usually more difficult because stories, by their very nature, never truly end. In real life, one event gives birth to another, which in turn leads to yet another. Life is an unbroken chain of happenings. So, where exactly should a story end?

I first grappled with this question in secondary school after my classmates and I finished reading Elechi Amadi's The Concubine, the unforgettable love story of Ekwueme and Ihuoma. 

The story reaches its tragic climax when, after overcoming numerous obstacles to marry Ihuoma, Ekwueme learns from the diviner, Anyika, that she is no ordinary woman. She is believed to be the earthly wife of the jealous Sea-King, a powerful spirit who will not allow any mortal man to possess her as a wife. Anyika advises Ekwueme to make Ihuoma his concubine rather than his wife if he wishes to live. Unwilling to surrender to fate, Ekwueme seeks the help of another medicine man, Agwoturumbe, who claims he can neutralize the Sea-King's power through ritual. As preparations for the ritual and the wedding are underway, tragedy strikes. While searching for a red male lizard, an essential item for the ritual, Ekwueme is accidentally struck by a poisoned arrow shot by Nwonna, Ihuoma's own son, who had aimed at the lizard. Ekwueme dies that very night before the marriage can take place, and the novel closes with Ihuoma overwhelmed by grief.

Many of us were dissatisfied with the ending. Why did Elechi Amadi stop there? What about Ekwueme's burial? How did the villagers react? What became of Ihuoma afterward?

Our teacher simply laughed and walked out of the classroom. Then at the next lesson, he gave us a test titled: "How I Would Have Ended The Concubine if I Were Elechi Amadi." We eagerly filled pages of our exercise books, each attempting to provide what we believed was the "proper" ending to the novel.

At the end, we understood the lesson. Stories never really end. A creative writer must simply decide where to let the curtain fall - but that decision must be logical and artistically justified.

Years later, as a literary journalist, I had the privilege of meeting Elechi Amadi in Port Harcourt. I recounted our secondary school experience and asked him point-blank why he had ended The Concubine where he did. He smiled and gave me an answer I have never forgotten.

The ending, he said, reinforces the novel's central theme; the inescapability of fate. Anything beyond that would only bore the reader, while ending the story at any point earlier would leave the reader unsatisfied.

That simple explanation added tremendously to my understanding of storytelling. A story should end at the point where its central conflict has been decisively resolved and its emotional, thematic, or dramatic purpose has been fulfilled. The ending should leave the reader with something to ponder, not with unnecessary details that dilute the story's impact.

© Sumaila Isah Umaisha 

- Nigeria.