Reincarnation and Witchcraft
I grew up as a teenager in a corridor of Lagos that I would simply describe as seedy.
This time was the apogee of the Fela Years, Kalakuta Republic in its awesome glory attracted every young boy and girl in Lagos. I lived a few kilometers away from the Kalakuta Republic in Idi Oro, along Agege Motor Way. I saw Fela then as a bad influence on the youths because everyone who had an issue in the community found refuge at the Kalaluta Republic. Fela was more popular than all the military Heads of State. I knew the smell of marijuana at a tender age. I was discouraged from becoming a smoker of marijuana simply because of the smell which to me was no different from raw shit. Otherwise, marijuana was something that was freely shared and enjoyed in my community.
I had a
company of warm friends and on one occasion I owned a bicycle. The
bicycle had been a gift from one of our Indian neighbours in one of the
flats where I lived. The bicycle belonged to their son who hadn't yet
come to Nigeria. I was quite bold and I approached them and asked to be
given the bicycle. I was shocked that the family agreed.
Owning a bicycle was a thing of great joy because everyone owned it with you in the area. I was so thankful for the gift because I learnt how to ride a bicycle by chance. Without the gift, there was no way I would have bought one or learnt how to ride a bicycle.
There was this strange incident that led to the death of a vibrant and promising young man, Ndubueze.
Most afternoons, after school hours, we compete with the bicycle. It was my turn to take the bicycle to the end of the street. The street ends with a major railway track. And to ride up to that point in record time earned you the status of a winner.
On this day, it was my turn to take the bicycle to the end of the street, towards the railway tracks. Ndubueze now approached me and begged me, in a manner that was strange to me, to allow him take the bicycle to the end of the street while we timed him. It was a tough choice to make because you don't give up your turn for any reason. He begged and begged and somehow against all logic I agreed. As the owner of the bicycle, most of my friends allow me to have my say because if I am not respected, you may never get to ride the bicycle again.
Ndubueze, begged me and I agreed. He took the bicycle and went to the end of the street. As soon as he got to the end of the street, the train showed up. It looked surreal. Ndubueze was some inches away from the side of the train and we saw him ride to the front of the train and we all saw the train tip the side of the bicycle and Ndubueze fell down with the bicycle and died on the spot. It was completely unexplainable. We were all transfixed as if we were watching a movie. No one could explain how the train and the bicycle came together, but we all saw how the train tipped the bicycle. And the death was a silent one. You couldn't say if indeed the train tipped the bicycle or not. We just saw a dead teenager on a bicycle.
I am not even sure the train driver knew if anything had happened because the train didn't stop at all. And no one bothered to stop it.
We were all devastated and I just saw my whole life flash before me. I was the one who should have taken the bullet in this case. How Ndubueze came to beg me for the bicycle and I agreed to give it to him remains a mystery to me to date?
After we noticed the fall, we rushed to the spot to discover a lifeless body. Ndubueze was a beloved young man in the area. The youths felt this loss and then something strange ensued.
Mama Dako-Dako had two sons who were wayward. She was a traditional penis doctor (in Yoruba, we call her Mama "Dako-Dako" which literally translates to "cut prick, cut prick"). She circumcises most male children born within the area.
A few days earlier, Ndubueze had an encounter with Obulanke, Mama Dako-Dako's first son, and she had sworn that Ndubueze will die within 7 days.
Their altercation started when Obulanke and Ndubueze had an argument. Ndubueze had threatened Obulanke and because of the threat, Obulanke ran away from the area.
Mama Dako-Dako was distraught that her son left the area and she cursed whoever had threatened her son and made him leave the area. She had been specific about the person dying within 7 days.
Obulanke started out as a young man with a lot of promise. He had a job in the Nigerian Customs. And with this job he was able to rent a modest apartment and he had it furnished with part of the Udoji award largess. He was doing well and Mama Dako-Dako was so proud of his son.
After a while, Obulanke started selling everything he owned and at some point he lost the apartment and moved back to his mother's house. A life of hemp smoking and gambling had robbed him of all he had. Finally, he also lost his job. Mama Dako-Dako too became a liability within the area as she turned to alcohol to cope with the problems of Obulanke.
If there was anything Mama Dako-Dako relished, it was those rare occasions Obulanke came back home to eat her meals. This time, she was not sure she will ever see Obulanke after Ndubueze threatened him. Obulanke was gone and never to return to eat her meals again.
And then she laid a curse of death on Ndubueze and he died within 7 days.
Mama Dako-Dako was celebrating while we were mourning. And it was quite personal for me because Ndubueze died on my bicycle and he had taken my turn to ride the bicycle after he made several appeals to me and I agreed.
Obulanke came home to eat his mother's meal after he learnt Ndubueze had died. He was happy too.
Owning a bicycle was a thing of great joy because everyone owned it with you in the area. I was so thankful for the gift because I learnt how to ride a bicycle by chance. Without the gift, there was no way I would have bought one or learnt how to ride a bicycle.
There was this strange incident that led to the death of a vibrant and promising young man, Ndubueze.
Most afternoons, after school hours, we compete with the bicycle. It was my turn to take the bicycle to the end of the street. The street ends with a major railway track. And to ride up to that point in record time earned you the status of a winner.
On this day, it was my turn to take the bicycle to the end of the street, towards the railway tracks. Ndubueze now approached me and begged me, in a manner that was strange to me, to allow him take the bicycle to the end of the street while we timed him. It was a tough choice to make because you don't give up your turn for any reason. He begged and begged and somehow against all logic I agreed. As the owner of the bicycle, most of my friends allow me to have my say because if I am not respected, you may never get to ride the bicycle again.
Ndubueze, begged me and I agreed. He took the bicycle and went to the end of the street. As soon as he got to the end of the street, the train showed up. It looked surreal. Ndubueze was some inches away from the side of the train and we saw him ride to the front of the train and we all saw the train tip the side of the bicycle and Ndubueze fell down with the bicycle and died on the spot. It was completely unexplainable. We were all transfixed as if we were watching a movie. No one could explain how the train and the bicycle came together, but we all saw how the train tipped the bicycle. And the death was a silent one. You couldn't say if indeed the train tipped the bicycle or not. We just saw a dead teenager on a bicycle.
I am not even sure the train driver knew if anything had happened because the train didn't stop at all. And no one bothered to stop it.
We were all devastated and I just saw my whole life flash before me. I was the one who should have taken the bullet in this case. How Ndubueze came to beg me for the bicycle and I agreed to give it to him remains a mystery to me to date?
After we noticed the fall, we rushed to the spot to discover a lifeless body. Ndubueze was a beloved young man in the area. The youths felt this loss and then something strange ensued.
Mama Dako-Dako had two sons who were wayward. She was a traditional penis doctor (in Yoruba, we call her Mama "Dako-Dako" which literally translates to "cut prick, cut prick"). She circumcises most male children born within the area.
A few days earlier, Ndubueze had an encounter with Obulanke, Mama Dako-Dako's first son, and she had sworn that Ndubueze will die within 7 days.
Their altercation started when Obulanke and Ndubueze had an argument. Ndubueze had threatened Obulanke and because of the threat, Obulanke ran away from the area.
Mama Dako-Dako was distraught that her son left the area and she cursed whoever had threatened her son and made him leave the area. She had been specific about the person dying within 7 days.
Obulanke started out as a young man with a lot of promise. He had a job in the Nigerian Customs. And with this job he was able to rent a modest apartment and he had it furnished with part of the Udoji award largess. He was doing well and Mama Dako-Dako was so proud of his son.
After a while, Obulanke started selling everything he owned and at some point he lost the apartment and moved back to his mother's house. A life of hemp smoking and gambling had robbed him of all he had. Finally, he also lost his job. Mama Dako-Dako too became a liability within the area as she turned to alcohol to cope with the problems of Obulanke.
If there was anything Mama Dako-Dako relished, it was those rare occasions Obulanke came back home to eat her meals. This time, she was not sure she will ever see Obulanke after Ndubueze threatened him. Obulanke was gone and never to return to eat her meals again.
And then she laid a curse of death on Ndubueze and he died within 7 days.
Mama Dako-Dako was celebrating while we were mourning. And it was quite personal for me because Ndubueze died on my bicycle and he had taken my turn to ride the bicycle after he made several appeals to me and I agreed.
Obulanke came home to eat his mother's meal after he learnt Ndubueze had died. He was happy too.
Wow! What a hush!
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