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For the umpteenth time, Dike stumbled on an elongated root. It was one you would consider a trespasser because it laid bare across the pathway.

“Carefully,” Obiora said as her hand curled around his arm, preventing a fall.

“You’ve been disoriented today, what happened last night?”Obiora questioned, legs suddenly pulling to a stop in the middle of the road and forcing him to do the same.

What should he tell her? It surely could not be the truth because he found it impossible to look her in the eyes. She would surely know what was wrong at a glance and he did not want to bother her with his nightmares.

“I’m fine,” he said, staring at her wrist before proceeding to continue the trek.

Obiora sighed. “Did your mother do anything you didn’t like?”

“No,” he said.

She paused to study him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Then what is it that is bothering you?”

Dike remained silent.

“Well, if you wouldn’t tell me, I just want you to know that I’m always here for you, okay? My mother and I.”

“Okay,” Dike nodded and they continued walking, fingers interlocked.

*****

Obiora waited for him to be seated like other times before she bade him farewell. For the first time, he was grateful for her departure which prevented other questions. There was no stopping it in the classroom though— he was alone to his thoughts, to thoughts of his nightmare and the boy whose eyes were gouged out.

Trying to change his thoughts, he looked out through the window, oblivious to the few kids who were already present. Beneath the sun were a lot of grasses. Underneath those grasses was the earth, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, referred to as a soil, which drained the blood of children in his dreams.

He sighed when he caught himself thinking about it again. There was really no way he could distract himself. So while he decided to stop staring out of the window and face reality, and face the children around him, among which one may be murdered in his dream that night, he saw a shadow, leaning on the cashew tree a distance behind their classroom building.  He almost waved it off as another one of his hallucinations but they did not happen when he was around people and they certainly did not happen in daytime when the sun was in its highest.

Voices from within the class distracted him and he had to blink to focus.

“Good morning everyone,” Mrs Anwulika said as she passed between a column. Then she spotted Dike, the only child who was sitting and staring blankly at the board.

“Dike, you didn’t stand to great. Do you want to learn disrespect?”

“No ma’am.”

“Why don’t you do that now and greet while you’re at it, so the class can hear you,” she said and Dike did exactly that. However, she was not convinced by his act; he still appeared dazed, she noticed and that was unlike him.

As the day slowly ticked, it was finally her class and Anwulika stood from her desk and walked to the front of the class where the children repeated the greeting again as mandated.

“God bless you too. Sit down,” she ordered and they did. She faced the board and wrote the words “African Religious Studies” legibly and at the top. Then she wrote the topic, “Sacrifice” after it.

“Today, we’ll be talking about sacrifice in religion and why it is done,” she said. After looking round the class, scanning through the faces, she asked, “Does anyone know what a sacrifice is?”

A hand was raised.

“Yes Kambili.”

And a slender child stood up. “Ma’am can I give an example.”

“Yes, go on.”

“It is the okuko we kill anytime we visit a shrine.”

“That is right! Any other person?”

When no one else decided to raise their hand, Anwulika continued. “Like Kambili said, the cock and hen we slaughter at shrines and offer to the gods is an example. Another example is human sacrifice and the last example is when we give out money or a possession to the gods for the same purpose. Now, I’ll summarize this into the definition of what a sacrifice is.”

Some children nodded while others stared at her eyes as she spoke.

“A sacrifice,” she said, “is an act of slaughtering an animal or a person or surrendering a possession to a deity. And do you know that while ritual killings are now being condemned in modern religions, it still acts as the sacred part of some ceremonies?”

“No ma'am,” the children echoed while some shook their heads. “Well, in burial ceremonies held here in our town, it is mandatory for a cow to be killed and any family that fails to provide a cow for one of their own, will be reminded from generations to generations till the debt is paid. And according to our tradition, the sons of families are the ones meant to contribute in buying the cows. Can anyone give another example?”

Essence raised her right hand.

Raising a brow, the teacher had to take a breather before replying. “Yes, Essence.”

“During naming ceremonies,” she said, standing.

“Yes, that may also count but in other places excluding this town. Do they practice it where you come from?” Anwulika asked.

“Yeah, I’ve had the opportunity to witness one,” Essence replied

“That’s nice. You can sit.” Essence sat while Anwulika asked, “Is there any other person who’d like to contribute?”

When no one else spoke, the teacher took it up from there. “Okay… we also have initiation rites and there’s wedding…”

Essence could feel it. As the teacher’s voice faded so did the stare from two seats behind her become intense and she sank in her seat, trying to appear invisible.

A successful distraction she was.

*****

To Dike’s prayers, it was finally time for the long break. He hurriedly ate the food Obiora packed for him and went to the mango tree. This time, he first her in arriving there, maybe because he was a bit overexcited.

“You’re early,” Essence commented as she joined him on the root.

“Let’s just say that’s because I couldn’t wait to ask you something.”

“About what?”

There was a pause before Dike said, “Essence, would you be my friend?”

He expected her to be happy but she had her eyebrows pulled in a frown. She was worried, but why? Did not she want to be friends with him?

“Don’t you want to be my friend?” Dike asked. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” he said as he stood up, ready to leave her and go soak up in regret. Maybe she had seen him for what he was. Maybe she believed that he was a scarred kid who ran away at the slightest chance of a wind; maybe she knew that he was always chased by ghosts and had nightmares as a result of them. Who would want to befriend a damaged person?

“You are not bothering me,” she said. “I actually want to be friends with you but I have to take permission from my mum before having anyone as a friend.”

“I understand,” Dike said, before he smiled and she smiled back. “So I should leave then?” he asked again to be sure.

“No, don’t.”

“Okay,” he said with a real smile. “I was wondering if you’d want to recount the story of that naming ceremony. You know, since we don’t attend such here, it sounded strange.”

“I understand,” Essence said, then laughed as she looked ahead. Apparently she must have enjoyed the ceremony since she was happy to retell the details.

“Actually, a naming ceremony is one held days after the birth of a child.”

“Including twins?”

“Yeah.”

“Like how many days?”

“Well.” Essence copied the motion of counting her fingers. “the last place I lived it was eight days after the birth of the child and the place before that it was three months.”

“Odiegu!” Dike exclaimed. “How many places have you lived in?”

“From my memory, I think five, but I don’t know how far my mum travelled before birthing me.”

“Your mum must be an adventurer if she decided to travel that much. What about your dad?”

“My mum says he's really busy, so we’ve never really seen each other for quite a long time…”

*****

“So, how was school today? Did you ask her to be your friend?” Obiora asked as her sandals crunched against the floor.

“I did but she said she has to ask her mum,” Dike replied suddenly feeling down again.

“And why’s that?” Obiora asked. They were halfway down the road to Umuada clan, the third route they would take would be leading to their house.

“She didn’t say, but I suspect that it has something to do with her mummy and daddy's relationship.”

He did not need to complete it though. It was quite obvious that he was referring to his own parents. A sad frown marred Obiora face and although he wanted it wiped away, he still appreciated the fact that someone was weeping the death of his innocence and his ruthless recruitment into the adult world. He had not forgotten the day before— the news he heard from the day before, the death of Adaeze.

School was over and the staffs were packing up. Anwulika was done with her duty for the day and was heading home. She was dressed in a simple pencil skirt, a t-shirt and sandals and had natural dreads which she had remade to a longer length.

While she hummed on her way, she would sometimes hear the rustling of leaves in the bushes behind her which would always stop when she turned. Convinced that someone was following her, she decided to head to neigbour’s house instead of hers since she was obviously a female that lived alone.

She knocked on the door and it opened to reveal an old woman with big hips frowning at her.

“Anwuli, what are you doing here? Are you just coming back from school?” she asked in Igbo.

“Yes mama.”

“Then go home and rest.”

“Mama, a man has been following me and I don’t know why.”

“Nwam’, get in. Get in. Bia noru n'ulo. You’ll be spending the night here.”

“Thank you Mama.”

Anwulika got in after a final look behind her. Surely, her stalker would not follow her in. He was not that crazy.

*****

The next day was Eke market day. Before morning had even begun, the villagers had gone to their farms to check for any action they might have ignored after harvesting the day before, meanwhile the late harvesters were just beginning.

Obiora escorted Dike to school like always and the day perfectly went by till it was break. Dike met her at their usual place and she smiled at him. “Dike, come sit,” she said. When he did exactly that, she continued. “My mum has agreed to our friendship and she said that she’d like to see you.”

“So, that means…”

“Yeah, you and I are officially friends.”

*****

The next day was a Thursday, sunny like always.

“I’m glad that she decided to be your friend,” Obiora told Dike as they walked the familiar pathway to the community school.

“I’m also glad that she accepted me,” Dike said smiling. The leap in his step was evident. And he, dressed in his green shorts and stripped shirt for a uniform, holding hands with Obiora while the other hand was free to swing, currently felt like he was on top of the moon for having a friend.

When they arrived at school, he felt the sensation of being watched. Like he remembered doing yesterday, he instinctively looked out the window and saw nothing.

He could not chase away the feeling though, someone was definitely watching him.

Like a wave, fragments of his most recent nightmare flashed before his eyes and he saw it, the boys face, bloodied and one-eyed. The one-eyed boy, a sample of the disturbing thoughts that normally intruded into his head. However, it was not the thoughts he hated this time, it was the fact that they chased away the temporary feeling of euphoria he was having.

He looked out of the window again, and when he saw the shadow, nothing could convince him otherwise. A ghost was after him, maybe it was what his dream had been trying to warn him about.

The day was over pretty quickly and this time, instead of Anwulika, it was another employee, a male.

Having learnt his lesson, Kwento kept a reasonable distance between him and the lead. They passed green grasses and dirt brown soil until they arrived at a muddy bungalow.

The house had a small door for entrance and an external shed for cooking which had a load of firewood beneath it. Surrounded by tall palm trees, and a fence made from dry palm fronds, it was quite the remarkable suburb different from what he was used to in the domain.

He watched his lead open the door to reveal a furnished palour. His lead being a man that was probably in his forties, dressed in trousers and a t-shirt. Could this in anyway be Dike's father?

Kwento touched his necklace and envisioned himself inside his house. His necklace was different from the one he found in Magdalene’s house. Gotten from the riverbed of the Fates waterfall  which resided opposite the Mountain of Foes, it was of a dark purple hue and resonated life.

In a flash, he saw himself inside the house. It was a two bedroom house despite how misleading the exterior was. From the looks of his surrounding; a wooden chair by the corner, a mattress on the floor and loads upon loads of bags. He could tell that he was in a bedroom— a female’s bedroom.

He was about snooping, since that was why he was there but stopped when he heard a voice… and another that responded to it.

“Obim’,” she said. “Let me bring the food for you, Inukwa?”

“Okay na, wete ya,” her husband replied.

She walked to the kitchen to heat the food. It was taking quite a while and the husband used the time to skim through his notes for any last touches. He would be teaching a new topic tomorrow and had researched a method that would help the children grab the concept faster.

When she finally served him, she said,” Obim', I’ve brought the food and water. I’ll be in the room, anything you need call me, okay.” Then she pecked him on the cheeks. As she was just leaving, her daughter walked into the house in her secondary school uniform.

“Ah, Ada, you’re back?” Her dad paused on the second throw. He had started digging into the food when he saw her chubby frame waltz in.

“Yes Papa.”

“How was school?”

“It was fine. But daddy,” she said. “There’ll be a new competition in two months. The stakes and odds have been flying about and I think I’ll do a good job if I’m given a chance to participate.”

“Then why aren’t you participating?”

“It requires registration fee of two thousand five hundred naira.”

Her dad was stunned to silence. “Okay,” he said, staring at his food like it was not just heated moments ago. “Let me think about “

“Thank you daddy, you’re the best,” Ada said, hugging him. Then she asked, “but where’s mummy?”

And her dad pointed in the direction of the room. Room.

*****

Kwento has made a lot of decisions and the one which he was more proud of was joining the SOCs because, having a first hand col knowledge should be able to help him on a simple investigation. Yeah, right.

He was halfway through a bag when he heard the door creak and without further ado, he hid behind the door, a big mistake considering his frame.

He had other options though, to sneak about like Josh taught him but he could not use it; it would reveal his position and leaving was not an option for him if he really wanted to cross out a suspect.

It did not take the woman a second to put two behind two when she saw the pile of clothes on the floor and the empty bag. She shouted, “Papa Ada! There is a thief in the house ooh and oshi ezigbo amasi.”

Kwento didn’t need to be told twice. Amid a loud thud which could be heard from the parlour came frantic steps which forced the god of the innocent to clutch his stone tighter.

“Where’s he?” the husband asked before rushing in. He had scanned the window and the bags before sighting the clothes on the floor and then again, came their daughter with a tree branch.

As the husband was about to look behind the doorframe, Kwento disappeared. When he saw nothing, he turned to his wife.

“Mama Ada, there’s no one in here naw!”

“Someone came in. I just finished arranging the room when you came and after serving your food I came here to see it like this.”

Her husband sighed.

“Maybe it’s actually your bags that are protesting for the amount of clothes you load them with,” he said then walked back to the sitting room to continue eating his food where the soup was overturned.

He raised both hands up in surrender.

He was definitely not the only one who had given up though.

In fact, a supposed cop was currently lamenting in a bush somewhere because he definitely could not continue the investigation even if he wanted to and all that led to his history in prison. A single mistake could lead to them doubting him, no intoxication this time.

But he would try again.

There was never an end to trying, Kwento thought as he watched the house from a distance.

*****

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