When my dad passed away more than a decade ago, I had to live on my own for a while before my mum returned from the village and my brothers had both returned to their bases. It is difficult to be alone when you lose someone close, but I had to because I had no choice.
When I returned to the house, I knew sleeping alone won't work. I couldn’t possibly sleep on my own because of fear, that was the same house we lived with dad,... no no I said to myself, nmara anonwu kwa sosom. I was also depressed. Even staying in the house alone during the day was wahala not to talk more of
sleeping alone at night. Even when the lights were on, I still couldn’t, if NEPA com carry light, wetin go come happen? During the day, I would run in and run out of the house. I ate outside, I read outside, in fact the only thing I did inside was have my bath and wear my clothes, even those I did under 10 minutes max. Fear na bad thing ooo, it messes with your head. (After 3 weeks, I wondered why I was afraid sef).
The first night I got back from the village after the burial, I tried it, omo I nearly ran mad. Fear nearly drove me crazy. The lights were on ooo but I couldn't dare close my eyes, what if ndi nmuo come and carry me away? I covered myself with four wrappers, heat wan kee me. I turned and tossed for hours, no sleep and the time no gree run. I prayed and prayed, for where. I realized how long a night could be, it was just like when you have a toothache at night, mehn..., morning will refuse to come. When you check the time, the time might be 1:23am and you check again after two hours, the time will be 1:35am. For your mind, two hours don pass.
The next day, l had to look for someone to at least pass the night with me. So I went to our neighbour who had three children and a house help and explained my fear to her, she understood perfectly. I asked if I could borrow her house help at nights and she obliged me.
That night, after the Help finished her chores, she came over to my house, I gave her the take-away food I bought, even when I knew she had eaten at home and we slept on my bed. The next morning I woke her up at 6am to go back home just like I promised her madam. This was repeated for several days. Having someone close helped me sleep better and scared away the ojuju calabar I was afraid of.
But here is the thing, this help who was about 14 years old was not a normal human. She was not just an ordinary girl, she operated at night. I don't want to call her a witch but she operated like one. At least, it is widely believed that witches operate at night abi?
Because my mom wasn't around, I barely cooked. The only thing I took regularly at home before I go out each morning was shayi. When you live in the Tin City, you must learn how to take very hot tea in the mornings especially those crazy December period when the temperature is almost -8 degrees. We ran out of the powered milk before dad passed so I had to buy a refill.
Every morning when I opened the tin of milk, the level of the content looked abnormally low but I thought nothing of it. However, seeing this abnormality continue incessantly, I decided to be observant. I knew something was wrong, someone was messing with my madara.
One night, after the help and I finished playing whot while waiting to sleep, I told her I was tired and we both laid down. Sleep was messing with me but I was determined to stay awake to know whether it was the girl or ndi nmuo that was tampering with my milk. After an hour, the girl felt I had slept, she got up and went into operation. Umunnem na Umunnam, the girl got out of bed, observed me for few seconds (of course I didn't move and I made sure I was facing the direction of the tin of milk), satisfied I was asleep, she stealthily went for my milk. I watched with half-opened eyes.
With the movement of a cat, she opened the tin with a metal shoehorn which was lying on the table where the tin of milk was, scooped a little quantity of the milk and shoved it into her awaiting open mouth, then she started swinging her head from left to right and silently smacked her mouth in pleasure. She turned to look at me, seeing no sign of movement except the heaving and collapsing of my chest from breathing, she took a few more scoops, this time more generous helpings.
While replacing the lid, it fell on the tiles and the sound rattled the dead silence in the room, she froze. Knowing she was done with her mission that night, pretending I was disturbed, I stirred and faced the opposite direction away from her and the milk thereby giving her the silence and chance she needed to pick the lid, replace it and return to bed.
Look, there is more to this oo. Before she laid down, the yeye girl raised the wrapper I used to cover myself to peep at my hoo hoo. Can you imagine that, she peeped at ifem. Me sef I scatter leg as I lie down. I was shocked but I didn’t move. It was for a brief moment before she finally laid down.
The next morning when I woke her up she looked at me strangely, I knew she was searching my face to see if I saw what she did the night before, I kept a straight and expressionless face.
Out and about that day, I thought of the best way to deal with the situation and I can't tell her madam who would have beaten out the digested milk from her intestine. But I wanted to deal with her for peeping at my hoo hoo, so I came up with a mischievous plan.
I bought Omo detergent, the white type and also bought another tin of milk because I couldn't possibly take the remaining milk not after seeing what she scooped the milk with the night before. I emptied the remaining milk inside the trash can and poured the detergent into the tin and placed a spoon beside it. Cony man die, cony man bury am (abi how dem dey talk am). The stage was set for my own mission that night (of course I hid the new tin of milk I brought) and I also prayed she took the bait.
(At this point I feel like stopping this gist here so you will beg me to conclude it but because I love you my readers, make I pity una)
Before I set out on my mission, I knew that night was going to be her last night sleeping in my house for obvious reasons. If the ojuju like make e come carry me, I no do again. It was almost two weeks we started the sleeping arrangement and my mum was not back.
I opened my eyes and looked at the wall clock, the time was 11:32pm, she was standing by the tin of detergent and probably thanking her stars I stupidly kept a spoon beside the tin. At that point I wished I had CCTV installed in my room. Without any inkling of the convulsion I was determined to cause her, she silently opened the tin with the spoon (it was a table spoon) scooped a spoonful of detergent and shoved it into her mouth. Umunnem na Umunnam, she instantly dropped the spoon, staggered backwards away from the tin of horror and started coughing, kpoho kpoho kpoho kpoho .... She turned and glared at me murderously, I stared back. She dove for the bottle of water I left on the table and started washing her mouth on the floor. The more she washed, the more her mouth foamed. I didn't move. I laid down there and watched her.
When she was satisfied there was no more detergent in her mouth except for the quantity in her stomach already, she mopped the floor in silence, covered the tin of detergent, came back to bed and told me she was sorry that she had been taking my milk and begged me not to tell her madam. I said it was OK and we slept.
The next morning I severed our relationship.
Ogechukwu Ikwueme
(Nwanne unu Nwanyi)
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