LIGHTHOUSE - Episode 5

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Nigeria's leading fictional story blog - ‘Oya come make we go’ by 2Face featuring Sauti Sol, his pair of Levi’s Jeans, raced out of the hut, along the river bank, her blood will flow into the river, four sharp machetes, sitting in the interrogation room, nearest police station, the commissioner of police, policeman, Shoprite, Polo Shopping Mall Enugu.

The man arrived at his destination. It was still dark when he stowed the car into the compound. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching as he locked the gate. Then, he helped Ifunanya to her feet. “Are you going to do with me as you wish?” She asked groggily, unaware of the danger hovering over her life. “Yes, I will,” he replied, dragging her inside. Once inside, he placed her on the bed and began to undress her. She barely knew what was going on. He moved quickly, tossing her clothes on the floor. Soon, she lay naked on the bed. He hastily removed his pair of Levi’s Jeans, yanking them off like an enraged mad bull. Then, he pounced on her with unbridled lust. “What…what…w-h-a-t t-o-ok you…so long?” Ifunanya asked woozily. Her eyes were shut and her body hardly moved, while he rocked away with ferocious lust. 

Oya come make we go’ by 2Face featuring Sauti Sol began to play. He had set that as his ringtone. He knew it had to be Agunna, so he held on…pounding away in a frantic attempt to reach the promised land. Then, he fell off Ifunanya’s body and grabbed his phone. “Agunna!” He shouted into the phone, breathing hard. “Where are you Arinze? Did the girl beat you up and run away?” Agunna asked petulantly. “I will be there shortly. The car was acting up, so I had to stop and fix it,” he lied through his teeth. “It will soon be daylight. You had better get her here now!” “I will be there in a few minutes,” Arinze assured Agunna, who was growing more impatient. He got out of bed and jumped back into his jeans and T-shirt. Hastily, he managed to stash Ifunanya’s limp alcohol-riddled body into her clothes. He carried her back into the car, opened the gate pulled the car out of the compound and then, locked the gate before speeding off.


He weaved through one dirt road after another in the village until he arrived at the designated site for the planned sacrifice. It was a forest on the edge of the village. He moved the car from the road, gently ploughing through the brushes until he could see the hut on the edge of Njava River. He dragged Ifunanya out of the car and towards the hut. “You are finally here,” Agunna said. His voice was laced with relief. He helped him drag Ifunanya into the hut. “Place her here,” Amagu said. He moved a plastic container to make more room on the mat so they could place Ifunanya on the mat. The mat was an old tattered rag to say the least. “Let me fetch Ikoro,” said Ifeanyi, the fourth member of wanna-be-rich group of friends. He raced out of the hut and ran along the river bank. Ikoro was sitting on a sandy beach with an old kerosene lantern burning beside him. He stared coldly into the forest as though he was communing with spirits. “Ikoro, the human head for the sacrifice is here,” Ifeanyi announced. Slowly, Ikoro rose to his feet, grabbed the lantern and walked slowly behind him without uttering a word. Ifeanyi looked back every few minutes. Ikoro was highly revered…feared in the land. It was rumored that he saw the dead and that they obeyed his commands. Ifeanyi wondered if some ghosts were right behind him.

Ikoro bent down to enter the hut. He was about six-feet tall. He slowly circled around the mat, assessing Ifunanya who snored like an over-fed pig. She slept peacefully in oblivion. “Young men, you all want to be rich?” Ikoro asked. “Yes…filthy rich,” Arinze answered. “It takes heart to be rich. You have brought a decent sacrifice from the look of things. I will see what the gods think of her. If they approve, we will take her to the river bank and slay her, so that her blood will flow into the river.” Arinze, Agunna, Ifeanyi and Amagu watched closely; choking in sheer expectation. “Do you have the machetes ready?” “Yes, we have them ready, Ikoro. They are lying on the river bank.” Amagu replied. “Are they all well sharpened?” “Yes, they are,” said Agunna. On the river bank, lay four sharp machetes that glittered against the backdrop of the moon. Ikoro sat down on the floor beside Ifunanya. He opened his raffia bag and removed a small offor stick from the bag. Closing his eyes, he moved the offor over Ifunanya’s head in a circular motion.

The young men watched intently, full of elation. Ikoro’s eyes remained firmly shut for a good five minutes as his hands moved, almost in a slow motion. Then, his eyes opened abruptly. There was an ominous look on his face. “Who brought this girl here?” he asked. “I did,” Arinze answered. “Why did you consort with her?” Ikoro asked. His voice had grown more serious. “Is anything the matter, nna anyi (elder) Ikoro?” Arinze asked in panic. “You don’t answer my question with a question, young man. Why did you consort with her?” Arinze looked on, his mouth hanging agape. “You don’t sleep with a sacrifice that you intend to offer up to the shrine of Ajukulu. How can you give Ajukulu what you have already feasted upon? How dare you?” The other young men looked at Arinze.  Their eyes were burning with feisty fury. “What did you do?” Agunna asked him, but he remained tight-lipped. “You slept with her, right?” Ikoro asked him in no uncertain terms. “I…I…it was…” his voice trailed off. “Your friend here slept with this girl. Ajukulu will not accept her as a sacrifice. Please remove her from here,” Ikoro ordered, directing his attention to Agunna, Amagu and Ifeanyi.

“What did you do to her?” A tall angry-looking policeman asked Umunna. “I did nothing to her! I called you…I was the one that called you,” Umunna cried. “Why would I do that if I had hurt her? I love her. I followed a car to Agbani because she was in that car. Look at the plate number I gave you. That man has probably killed her. Please, would you go and look for her?” Umunna stressed. He looked visibly troubled. He was sitting in the interrogation room at a table with his hands in cuffs. After his motorbike had stopped, he found a small kiosk where he waited for the crack of dawn dragging his bike with him for nearly half an hour. When the owner of the kiosk arrived later in the morning, Umunna got the phone number of the nearest police station from him. After he called the police, it took them over an hour to get to the location. Rather than look for Ifunanya, they arrested him, beating him repeatedly for an answers he did not possess. 

“Please, tell me the truth,” Ifunanya’s father pleaded with Umunna. He and his wife had arrived a short while back. Umunna called them to inform them of the situation. “I have told you the truth, sir,” Umunna replied. “I believe you. Let me have that plate number you talked about.” “I gave it to the police.” “Oga, you no wan believe this boy!” The policeman seated opposite Umunna added. “I have met him a few times. He lives next to my daughter. If he wanted to hurt her, why would he come all the way to this place to do that?” “He wants to hide his tracks, sir. He thinks he is smart. Tell us, did you kill her?” The policeman yelled, directing his attention at Umunna. “I would never hurt her!” Umunna yelled back at him. “Please, can I get that plate number,” Ifunanya’s father requested of the policeman one more time. “Oga, I dey tell you sey (sir, I am telling you that), this man is a criminal!” The policeman insisted. Ifunanya’s father could no longer take it. His wife was crying uncontrollably. She had been calling Ifunanya but her phone number was unreachable. Gbosaa!!! Ifunanya’s father landed a heavy slap on the policeman’s face.

He fell off his seat, clutching his face as he let out a scream, “Ayii!!!” “Come one, give me that number, idiot!” Ifunanya’s father cried. His patience had grown completely thin. “My daughter is in danger and you are here arguing with me. If I talk to the state commissioner of police, you’d lose your job!” he yelled. The policeman rose to his feet and left the room. Two minutes later, he returned still clutching his face. He handed Ifunanya’s father a piece of paper with a plate number scribbled on it. “Now, release that young man,” he ordered him referring to Umunna. Quickly, he rang the commissioner of police and informed him of the situation. The commissioner quickly sent men out to Agbani to search for Ifunanya while another team pored over plate number records in the state in search of the plate number that Ifunanya’s father had presented to the commissioner.

“You are walking into a big mess,” the cashier said to Emeka. He was waiting for his change at Shoprite, Polo Shopping Mall Enugu when all of a sudden, the cashier that was attending to him began to speak in a rather perplexing language. “What do you mean?” Emeka asked her. “You are engaged to someone, right?” “Yes, why?” The cashier shook her head for a moment and then said, “She has you in her palms. She took your clothes, hair and nails to a traditional medicine man who used all that to turn your head.” Emeka looked over his shoulder, and there was no other person in line behind him. Then, he moved closer to the girl and asked, “Who are you?” “I don’t know you, but I have a gift from God. Sometimes, I see and hear things that others can’t. I was just shown what I revealed to you. Chidera is the girl you are engaged to, right?” Emeka nodded. “She tied you spiritually…your mind. She literally owns you now. If you don’t go to God in prayer to break free from the powers under which she has placed you, she will ruin your life soon.” “I don’t believe you!” Emeka replied vehemently.

“I don’t expect you to believe me…” “I am sure Ifunanya hired you to tell me all this rubbish!” “I don’t know who you are talking about, but to convince yourself…of course not me; I don’t need to be convinced, but for your own good, when you get home, go to the lowest shelf in the cupboard in your kitchen. I mean the cupboard beside the kitchen. There is a small container of Quaker oat in it. Open it. There, you will find a small packaged wrapped in plantain leaves and tied around tightly with black threads. If you untie the pouch, you will find pieces of your hair, a small slice of your old Arsenal T-shirt and your nails,” the girl explained. “That could be anybody’s,” Emeka replied forcefully. “She truly has you under control. If you come back here on Friday, I will pray for you.” Emeka looked at her in sheer confusion. Slowly, he ambled through the hallway and into the parking lot. Chidera loves me, he assured himself. She (the cashier) does not know what she is saying. But how come she knows all these things about me? This has got to be a ploy by Ifunanya. Multiple thoughts zipped through his mind as he headed for his car.

When he reached home, he tried to brush the idea from his mind. The girl at the shop continued to pray for him. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw images of Emeka tied to a tree with a blazing fire beneath him. He cried and kicked for help, but there was none. Chidera was not at home when he got home. As he placed items from his shopping run on the kitchen desk, he could not help but think of the cupboard. His curiosity got the better of him, so he inched closer to the cupboard. His hand shook as he opened the cupboard. Just as the girl had said, there was a Quaker oat container in the cupboard. He picked it up, placed it on the kitchen desk. Slowly, he used a knife to pry it open. Indeed, there was a wrap there. He picked it up. His hands were shaking more vigorously now. He began to untie the wrap.

The thread seemed endless. After nearly four full minutes, he removed the entire length of the thread from the wrap. He found a piece of wood with which he poked the plantain leaves open. He frowned as he peered intently at the content. A piece of his red Arsenal shirt, which went missing several months ago was lying in the wrap. He recognized an oily stain on the shirt. Strands of hair and pieces of finger nail lay hopelessly in the wrap as well. “What are you doing honey?” Chidera asked as she stormed into the kitchen. She was returning from a job interview, which Emeka had set up for her at Union Bank. “What is this?” he asked her. She stared at the open wrap. She recognized it. Her heart began to beat fast. “What is it?” she asked, frowning as though she had never seen it.

“You ruined it for us all!!!” Agunna shouted. They were walking towards Arinze’s car – well, his uncle’s car. Ikoro had furiously thrown them out of his shrine after he had deciphered that Arinze did sleep with Ifunanya who was throwing up by now. “Pease help me to carry her to the car,” Arinze replied. “You should carry her and her vomit. I am sure you had taken her to your uncle’s house when you told me that the car broke down!” Agunna shouted. “Guys stop it. We need to get out of here,” Amagu cautioned. “No, we can’t stop. We were so close to making it rich. That sacrifice would have made millionaires of us, but he ruined it!” Agunna yelled. “Stop shouting!” Arinze replied, handing Ifunanya to Ifeanyi. “Without warning, Arinze slashed into him with a machete. “Agh!!!! Arinze cried as he fell to ground, writhing in pain. “What have you done?” Amagu asked. They all began to panic while Arinze cried painfully. Blood gushed out of his back, where Arinze had landed his blow with the machete. “Uwuaaa!!!” Ifunanya let out a stream of stinky vomit that reeked of rotten alcohol.




Written by:
Victor Chinoo

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LIGHTHOUSE - Episode 5
Nigeria's leading fictional story blog - ‘Oya come make we go’ by 2Face featuring Sauti Sol, his pair of Levi’s Jeans, raced out of the hut, along the river bank, her blood will flow into the river, four sharp machetes, sitting in the interrogation room, nearest police station, the commissioner of police, policeman, Shoprite, Polo Shopping Mall Enugu. An African Literary Blog
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