Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Demons, Oracles and Testicles.


The problem with crawling on dry leaves is usually the fact that it screams like a dog in heat. Yet, my addiction for this spot in the deep forest was unparalleled. This was not boosted by the fact that the Oracle sat a stone throw away, no. Neither was my visit encouraged by my very love for nature; whose presence here was closer than the distance between the testicles in the scrotal sack. I would rather miss my breakfast than miss the sight of the Demon as she strode past towards the thatched building donated to new religion just towards the edge of the village. Morning mass, they called it, was conducted by the white lengthy-nosed figure of a man, who spoke through those nostrils while the followers answered AMEN, some earlier than the rest. Obviously, the later respondents were as dumb as the dry leaves that lay beneath my feet; laughing only when stepped on and moving only with the wind.
Enwongo must have been the most beautiful idea nature conceived. Of all a fifteen year old boy would want to see, her figure seasoned my worst nightmares with wet shorts and dreams of certain very erotic activities most nights. This never deterred me from hurrying the following morning to my spot of sight. Her presence alone at the new god's worship place attracted so much young men that married women needed some spiritual exercises to keep their husbands sane. I called her the Beautiful Demon.
Her barely clad buttocks moved as if they connived to deceive any starring eyes. Crafted in form of largely moulded akara balls, one would jump on the other in turns, while she walked calculatingly across the forest floor. I have resisted the urge to describe the two pointed moulds that decorated her chest for reasons that my infancy would be violated by the true words with which they can be defined. I was just fifteen: yet, the figure between my legs must have been much older. Of course, while my fifteen year old brain imagined why a human being should be this beautiful, my older third leg always responded much faster; it would kick and stay at an attention until some liquid left its peak. I was not ashamed to stroll home with patches of liquid around the penal region of my shorts. After all, Asuquo, the hunter, Affiong's husband, had far bigger patches than mine: yet, I was told he was born in the same yam harvest season with my father's elder brother. Of course, we met every morning, just that he never saw me.
It was unusual for the Beautiful Demon not to pass. The last time she didn't, masquerades raided the village and killed a Chief. Next, the Oracle was nowhere to be found. In fact, if Enwongo overslept, it was a bad omen. The white Preacher had insisted that those who don't attend the morning Mass will be kept in a special fire that burnt forever. At this thought, I took a quick glance at my skin and smiled. This morning seemed colder than usual.
The temperature stayed unusually low even as I sneaked out of Mama's hut. I could risk death just to catch my daily dosage of a glimpse at the Beautiful Demon...or, so I thought. There was no rain, yet, the clouds fought themselves angrily. I took the usual route, away from the village stream and resurfacing directly behind the Oracle. My hiding place was, as usual, unoccupied. Soon after I had positioned myself for the video, Asuquo followed suit. He placed his hand in between his legs, through the rags he wore, and, as usual, rubbed vigorously at whatever was left there...(I learnt any object that is rubbed with such intensity everyday for a period of about five years would gradually disappear completely) Asuquo had been doing this everyday. His very existence seemed to be dependent on this.
It completely occurred to me that the Demon had not passed on time as the signing by the white Preacher's followers begun. Suddenly, my heartbeat increased its pace. The morning darkness got darker as the clouds bellowed in sudden anger. My legs shook. Asuquo seemed more confused than myself. His activity was slowed down by whatever thoughts moved through his head. Memories of all the evil I had committed danced through my head. The elder between my legs folded to its normal age. Once again, I felt fifteen down there. The dry leaves around rose in unison, exposing the bare forest floor. The Oracle fell of the tree trunk it hugged. Something was wrong! I could smell it. Then it came out of the shadows: a Demon: this time, from the depths of doom...I rose to run, yet its claws took a long swipe at me. Asuquo produced so much urine that the figure got concerned. With this distraction, I jumped off the forest floor...
...rather, my bed.
The hotel attendants hurried to my door and knocked. I signaled that i was fine and rose from my sitting position. My bladder screamed the need to be emptied. I knew that relief I usually had when rising from nightmares...I waited for it, it never showed up. I felt an evil again...the nightmare was not over. I recognized the stench of the demon from that netherworld. I resisted the urge to believe that it was just an ordinary nightmare. My soul quaked. The very depths of my testicles pounded in unison with my heartbeats. Once again, my bladder blew an alarm within. I hurried towards the door to the toilet. As I opened the door, I realised fully where it all began. Well balanced on the WC, was the demon from my dream. This time, I fell hard on the tiles and woke in absolute darkness.

I am i~witness.