My Dark School Of Thoughts

   What started as a celebration with a road trip filled with adventures and healing for we all became a series of macabre and sinister experience in the long run. It seemed like the perfect holiday till our gifts became a curse, it was a classical example of the devil giving with his left hand only for him to collect back with his right. They all accepted the gifts when it was offered, all he asked from us was a drop of our blood on the alter as an offering to his god and our one wish would be granted, one wish and our life would forever be transformed, I refused out rightly and when he asked me why, I told him I do not believe in God, the devil or voodoo. Back then it felt so ethereal, like I was in an Arabian story where we had to rub a lamp, a genie pops out and we make three wishes. I was born a skeptic, I was skeptic then but I have been made a believer. I still remember his parting shot to me as I walked out of his shrine when I refused to indulge in his antics like it was yesterday.

   We were all childhood friends and we were the social outcast throughout our primary and secondary school days, so it was because of the social stigma placed upon us that we decided to go outside the country for our tertiary education. We decided on Ghana, because it gave us a fresh new start, we heard a lot about it and it wasn’t far from our country Nigeria. We all agreed to travel together to check out our school of choice which happened to be the university of Ghana in Legon, a suburb part of the state capital Accra and also explore some part of West Africa since we had some free time and money in our hands, so we opted for a road trip that would take us from Nigeria through Benin Republic to Togo then eventually Ghana. We spent two nights in Benin republic, a night each in the village of Wasare and Nafa and also a night each in the village of Adangbe and Adele in Togo before entering Ghana. We ate all kind of local dishes, went sightseeing, explored some of their historical monuments, made friends with the locals, heard their folklore’s under the bright star at night, we each had our first drunken experience and some of us our first sexual experience. For the love of God, we were eighteen, free and having so much fun that by the time we were ready to leave for Ghana we all shed tears.

   Ghana proved to be everything we imagined, definitely not as big as Nigeria but had better organisation and a sounder economy. They were the Jamaicans of Africa, the people were a lot friendlier and didn’t seem to notice our shortcomings. After spending a couple of days making enquiries concerning academics and accommodation in the university premises in Legon and sightseeing in Accra we took a trip to Kumasi the capital city of the Ashanti region, a very important and historical centre for Ghana where we visited the Manhyia Palace, the seat of the King of Ashanti and members of the royal family, we also visited their national cultural center which is a sprawling complex that encompasses a fascinating museum of Ashanti history, a popular library, an excellent crafts shop, and an exhibition hall. We also visited their zoological garden before we finally visited the lake Bosumtwi, the largest natural lake in Ghana and it is where the Ashantis believe that the souls of their dead come to the lake to say goodbye to god called Twi.  

    We were still revelling at what we had experienced in Kumasi when we heard about a dance festival called “Agbadza” and that it was one of the musical types performed by the Southern Ewe of Ghana. Agbadza is derived from an older war dance known as “Atrikpui”. As a social and recreational music and dance, its performance is open to everybody in the community, irrespective of class, age, sex, and religion, so we decided to attend the festival before returning to Nigeria and it was during this festival we met a “Bokor” [black magic priest]. He claimed he could solve any problem for us and he wouldn’t charge, all he needed was a drop of our blood on his alter. My friends with their eagerness to be accepted amongst our peer quickly jumped at the chance but I ever a sceptic openly called him a hoax, he then smiles and tell me that my heart is bitter and I should stop walking away from the truth. They all agreed to go ahead with it even when I adamantly refused, because they claim that there was no harm in trying, it would be fun and moreover they weren’t going part with their money but I held on steadfast to my decision and watched as they spilled their bloods on the alter and made their wish while the Bokor recited some incantations and told them all was well with an evil grin plastered on his face.

THE GIFTS

    The first signs of the changes to come manifested first on Dayo weeks later when we returned back to Lagos. Dayo is a terrible stutterer who couldn’t construct one statement clearly and we all noticed that he started speaking fluently, the changes were slow and subtle that at first we didn’t notice it but eventually we noticed that he could make conversations to no end without stuttering, Yewande had serious weight problems but suddenly blossomed from an ugly duckling to a runway model, Temi was excessively thin because she was anorexic and she all of a sudden started eating well and added weight, while Yomi had a weak heart and thus couldn’t do anything strenuous but the boy started playing football and participated in athletics. For the first time they all felt like normal youths, Dayo could now toasts girls without shame, Yewande could now wear cloths that she was restricted from due to her former size, Temi now could eat anything she like now and even started looking like a human being for once while Yomi couldn’t sit in one place any longer, it was like he wanted to make up for all the activities he missed out on in the past. I looked at them all in envy and wished that I could have changed my own defect which was a mangled left leg that that made me walk awkwardly, it came as a result of the accident I was involved in as a kid, an accident that took away all my family members, so I watched from the sidelines as my friends revelled in this new found life for months before the problems started.

   It started with Temi who couldn’t stop eating, till she got obese and ate herself to death.

Dayo shattered his teeth’s, bit off his tongue and almost bled to death because he couldn’t stop talking and has had his mouth held open by a device because he still tries to talk even without a tongue, Yomi has suffered two cardiac arrest within months and is now in a coma because his heart was overworking itself and finally Yewande just got thinner and thinner like a cancer patient no matter how much she ate, my friends were wasting away right before my very eyes, that was when I believed and that was when it began.

   Now his softly spoken words has doomed me to a nomadic existence of no pause, I have continually walked for months to no end, my shoe is worn out, in fact I have no shoes any longer, my legs are bloodied, I cannot eat because my legs are forward ever moving, my lips are calloused, my eyes are not just bloodshot but hollow, my face has permanently adopted the look of a skeleton and I have scars all over. I have had only flies and the occasional stray dogs that leak at my sore’s for companions since the inception of my sojourn, although this last week I have seen buzzards and vultures hovering and following me patiently and I laughed for they may as well be wasting their time for my corpse and bones would elude them even in death because I fear i would even continue to walk then. The horrible thing about it is that I can’t even turn around and go back to find him and beg, he made sure that when it all began I wouldn’t be able to come back and make atonement, lord help me for now although too late, I now believe in your existence, the devil’s and that of Voodoo. I have been walking away from the truth all this years and now I cant stop walking, will I ever get salvation? Will I see the kingdom of heaven now that I have accepted him? Will I ever stop walking? All this I asked myself as I remember the Bokor’s parting shot when I walked out of his shrine “a person without believe and faith is a lost soul for the taking, your soul is for the taking, there is no in-between, you are either in the light or in the dark, you will believe and when you do you will never be able to walk away from the truth again because you will forever walk”, I wish I understood what he meant then, I really wish I did.