By Noel Ihebuzor
Thick as a moonless night,
sticky and debilitatingly damp
was your grip on our minds,
clammy on our thoughts
misty fogged, drugged by mystical myths,
our sights clouded, we saw the horned dog,
eyes red chilli, schools of skull carrying
fish flying and whirling around, transporting
red toothed ageless mermaids sucking young blood
and souls, never questioning
the cry of the night owl calling to mate
made mothers freeze, cowering in fear,
covering the feverish body of
sick children lest the hollow hooting of the owl
their mournful summons siphon their spirits out.
Mothers and fathers shivering,
sweating ignorance thick
on their haunted minds
like tattered wet blankets
New day, new dawn,
the frontiers of your kingdom
roll back by half every quarter
the native doctor’s beads and amulets
now gather damp and dust,
outside, short shallow red earth-covered mounds
sad resting places for souls spirited away
slowly vanishing with the roll of time
new wisdom, knowledge and vision replace
specious séances garbed in obscurity
progress breathes, heaves rolls forward in waves, freeing,
washing away ignorance,
shrinking superstition,
knowledge unrobes untruths and lies,
its piercing rays illuminate the dark kingdoms
where once you roamed and raged
ragging souls and joy with your minions.
As new knowledge uncovers why children die
that for which we blame the gods recedes
memories of starless bleak nights and deadening days
when the dreams of mothers and fathers
were drained by truncated childhood
are now distant
wailings of childhood ended too early
by frequent returns to spirit-land recede,
the suckling mother is now gay
suckled by the sound of happy progressing infancy,
bonding and binding to a child who stays
Victory, we rejoice and regale,
cakes and candles
celebrate another passing year
spiced with prayers
for many more to come
But let us beware,
one victory signals another battle
new Ogbanjes could be spawned in the emerging
sterile and suffocating space
where politicians with sterile policies
men and women caged by greed
minds manacled and shackled by corruption
the grabbing hand, ending up throttling life
sucking it and snuffing it out
in resources siphoned and stolen
our red eyes survey the empty and emptying clinics
the dying and decaying social provisions
the death of vision, and we weep
beware also of kindred new spirits that end childhood
lurking in sprouting new religions that reinvent
the power of witches and wizards
selling smoke, suspicion, and superstition
to unsuspecting slumbering followers,
shallow bewitched, emasculated by fear, minds entrapped
The bank accounts of preachers, politicians, and public servants swell
as ranks of new ogbanjes now begin to emerge,
crowded into ever-increasing shallow graves,
and the soul-draining groans of parents in pain.
Reflections 