By Ochi Emma Opara
…the native Doctor’s beads and amulets
have changed hands and name.
the ogene has remained; even as a bell.
that accompanies the new seers
who dread Friday meat.
My nostrils succumb to the stench of incense
moving in studied direction,
like a four way pendulum
chasing the devil away.
Born – again Ebenezer says
it is the sign of the cross,
challenging my ignorance that saw my village cross road –
Mgbabo eje eri aja.
The dancers changed indeed.
Sure they changed,
leaving the music intact.
Eloi, eloi…….
****A poem by my friend & classmate Ochi Emma Opara in response to my poem Ogbanje III
Reflections 
That is beautiful! Beautiful, strong poetry inspired more beautiful, strong poetry. Thanking you both.
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Deep religious imagery…showing the question we have refused to ask. Did we really change our traditional religion or was it just and upgrade?
I was searching for poetry to speak and decided to stop by. I knew I wouldn’t be disappointed.
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Nsisong, Thanks for dropping by. Ochi writes good poetry! What we are witnessing is a revival of a worrying syncretism in our religious lives in Nigeria. The residual and the emergent (I am using terms from Raymond William’s study on culture) co-habit in the minds of a lot of people.
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