THE EYES OF THE SPIRIT

My grandmother sits on a stool stiff necked. Her face so wrinkled that it is difficult to decipher if she is frowning or she is straight faced. Her shoulders are high up. I know she is not guilty, she had loved Papa even at his worst moments. The Dibia sprinkles something on everyone while dancing to some unintelligible humming, the cowries on his legs clinking and adding rhythm to his hum. The chicken by the corner looks askance at the Dibia, like my grandmother it disapproves of the whole ritual. It knows any moment from now, its neck would be cut and squashed, and its blood would gush into a cup which the Dibia would use to make a mark on everybody.
My mother sits close to my grandmother, earlier she had tried to show some affection but mama eschwed her, mumbling something in Igbo.
Papa was the chief of the community for years before his death. His 'Nkolo' were we now seat was where land disputes were settled, where husbands and wives tore at each other, girls came to report their fellow girls for stealing their suitors. He settled all the community disputes, and those which were trivial he handed to his lower cabinet. Marriages which were not endorsed by Papa were null and void. Papa was not only just respected, he was worshiped. His wisdom was known far and near, from the villages of Apkulu, Ndi uno, Agueke, Obi agu. His words were like the sunset, consistent, true, and beautiful. He spoke proverbs even his peers could not understand. Papa was the greatest hunter of his time. His meats were the best in the whole of Awka North, and his barns over flowed with yam. He had lands here and there. Papa was truly a great man.
Papa was a hero and like all hero's he had a flaw. Papa's penis couldn't stay in his wrapper. He went from having wives to concubines and even at that his eyes would still follow the rhythmic movement of well rounded hips and the rise and fall of arrogant looking breasts.
Papa was a great man, and great men do not show any sort of emotion except anger or defiance. So if Papa scolded you more than necessary, it means that he loves you. Open display of love was a show of weakness and weakness was definitely one feature nobody could attribute to Papa.

'Dike! Agu! Mmuo!' The Dibia hails, he is clad in white wrapper, tattered with red and black pieces of cloth. He is covered with dotted white chalks and a big round circle is made with chalk on his right eye. On his neck hangs a thread of cowries that makes a noise as he moves. Two chicken feathers are tied to his head with a red piece of cloth. He says some incantations as he continues to dance. Almost every member of the family is gathered in Papa's 'Nkolo' except my immediate elder brother, Nnamdi, who wet his pants when he was warned that the rituals wasn't child's play, and he could go mad or even lose his life if he didn't adhere to instructions. Of course, my Uncle Peter who was formerly called Nwafor before he gave a standing order that anyone who dared to call him by that name would put their leg in the same trousers with him, blatantly refused to hear anything of it. He was a Jehovah witness member. After many years of following Papa to give sacrifices of all sort to the gods of Amadioha, Ani and kalawa he had decided that there was a better 'Chukwu' and worshiping our gods was fetish and barbaric. My mother told him in her bid to convince him to be at the ceremony with her hands pulling her ears 'Peter give Caesar what belongs to Caesar and give God what belongs to God'. Everyone calls him Peter except my grandmother who called him a 'Mad Bushmeat' for saying such nonsense. She would always complain that the white man's civilization was a thief that has stolen the minds of people, teaching them how to be stupid. 'How can they say that there are three persons in one God? Is that not rubbish talk? Is it because we are black and they are white, they feel we can't think? All this is a strategy to control us. I can't believe such nonsense.'
When Uncle Peter was told that as Papa's first son he had to be at the ceremony, he bit his lips and called the elders 'Heathens, who were ignorant of their misdeeds'. They didn't try to convince him any further, they already expected such answer. 'Just know you have sold your birth right to Okenwa'. They told him as a matter of fact.

Okenwa is the person standing close to me now. He holds my hand. I whisper to him that I am scared and he tells me that he is going to die first before he allows anything happen. He is tall, handsome and has eyes to die for. People say he is Papa's doppelganger. Maybe that was why Papa loved him the most. My childish eleven-years-old heart is in love with Okenwa, so is almost every female member of the family. Everyone wants to please him, which isn’t a hard goal to achieve because Okenwa is very easy to please.
It is midnight already. Tiredness is far from my mind. Curiosity burns my soul. I am adamant not to lose sight of anything. I watch as the elders whisper to each other and shake their heads. This night, I think, is going to be a remarkable one. The purpose of the ceremony is for Papa's spirit to be conjured into the body of the person he trusts the most so he can tell who is responsible for his death. The ritual is usually performed for titled chiefs who die mysteriously.

Papa's death was a shock to the whole village. One night he just slept and did not wake. It was an insult to the whole village, a great man cannot just sleep and refuse to wake. It was no way for the greatest man in the land to die. It was simply a taboo. The elders organised a meeting and an agreement was reached; Papa must tell us with his own mouth who killed him.

The place is brightly illuminated by candles, lamps and burning fire in the calabashes that sit at every corner of the 'Nkolo'. Horns and Antlers are littered everywhere, hanged at the entrance of the 'Nkolo' is a skinned bear, Papa's first big game. At the far end of the room is a shrine; Papa's shrine, a red cloth is used to cover the wall of the shrine which has three wooden images of gods decorated with beads. The images look grotesque with oversized eyes, no nose at all and lips that are as wide as the face. I remember Papa used to come to the shrine every morning and pour a tiny quantity of schnapp on the floor of the shrine. He would do it three times for the three gods, hailing them, and praying to them in deep Igbo words I could not understand.      
Though it is midnight, nobody seems tired, they are eager to know who killed Papa. Some say it is my Mama because she didn't shed a tear during Papa's burial, she didn’t even mourn him like his other wives. She is a strange woman with strange ways. Some suspect Papa's brothers, Udodi and Obidike connived with some of Papa's wives to kill him so they can inherit some of his property before death comes knocking on their weak doors. Some blame Mama Nkiru because her father is the greatest Dibia in Obi Agu village, and she has easy access to kill anyone she wants. All of the suspects look angry not guilty. They are sure that the spirit isn't going to point at them. This system is unlike the ones I watch on T.V in the city were a man wearing a funny cap with black overall, sits on a high chair away from the audience, banging a wooden stick on the table which is a sign he wants order in the room, could actually acquit a person who is guilty and punish a person who isn't. In this system the guilty is punished and the just liberated. Unlike the white man's system of judgement where one has to rely on evidence they can see, this is a spiritual matter, one that human mind cannot understand and naked eyes cannot behold. One that never makes wrong judgement.

I begin to feel papa's presence, his smell fills the room. The hair on the back of my neck stands. I feel a tingling sensation in my premature breasts. My belly sinks into my dusty shoes and rises to my mouth in an instance, goose bumps ravages my skin. Silence falls on the room, and if a pin drops it can be heard from a distance. The Dibia says in Igbo that Papa has come, that the great lion of Akpulu village is with us. I tremble with fear and excitement. I clench my legs together. It is known that when the spirit is roaming, before it enters the chosen person, if it passes between the legs of a person sitting or standing ajar that person would lose his life.
The Dibia begins to shake hands with all Papa's friends who he feels Papa trusted while he was alive as he makes abscure incantations. Papa doesn’t enter the body of his best friend Uncle Umeadi, it is a sign that he didn't trust uncle Umeadi. The Dibia shakes hands with four of Papa's friends and Papa doesn’t enter any of them. Papa's spirit is getting impatient. It hovers around the 'Nkolo' causing the lights in the calabashes to go off. Then the Dibia dances close to me as though led by the spirits. I am scared out of mind. He stares at me long and hard, as he stretches his hand towards me, my heart skips a beat. I think he wants to grab my hands then he suddenly grabs Okenwa’s hand and Okenwa moves sharply like he is hit by a strong force. The lights in the calabashes come on. I flinch. Okenwa's expression changes, he looks like Papa more than ever. He walks with the same grace Papa used when he knew people were staring at him. He sits on Papa's chair and places his two hands on the arm of the chair, showing of his arm muscles exactly the way Papa did. The Dibia welcomes Papa and asks him how the land of the spirits is. Papa replies that he doesn’t have much time, and he didn’t travel all the way from the lands of the spirits to make petty talks. Okenwa's voice was now Papa's voice. Papa's voice just like I remember fills the room as he scans the place. 'My family, my friends, my people, I left unplanned, I left without saying goodbye. I left before I could hold my first great grand child'. He looks at Adaora's belly. My eldest sister who has just got married. Everyone is surprised, nobody knows that she carries a baby in her, I doubt if she even knows, perhaps he is Papa’s comeback. Papa is now a spirit he sees the things we couldn't see with our physical eyes. He continues 'The god's allowed it. I can't question the gods. But an atrocity was committed against the gods and before I put sand in the eyes of the dog, Obidike, i sold a land to you’ he said pointing a finger at Obidike 'but you have refused to pay or inform my family about it’. Even in death Papa is a man of few words , he continues 'before you step a foot into that land again, you must pay the money to Anyafulugo'. He says looking at Mama's direction. A smile escapes Mama's lips. Even in death, he still puts her first. Everyone notes that Mama is still on his good sides which means that she didn't kill him. Obidike bows his head in shame. Obidike was one of Papa's close friend. Having flogged that issue Papa points to his fourth wife. 'Stand in the middle of my Nkolo' he says to her. She does as she is told, fear gripping her legs as they move wobbly 'If Okpara is my real son, lift my 'Nkporo'. He said, referring to his staff of authority which held a skull at the top.
She doesn't lift it. She doesn't dare to. She is going to die if she did because Okpara wasn't Papa's son. She had been with a man a night before Papa savored her woman hole. She stands there like a snowman; Speechless and motionless. Papa isn't going to waste his spiritual time on her. He knows that after now the 'Ndi Nne' who handled infidelity like this would take care of her. He then goes to the business of the day. 'The pest that consumes the egg plant is within it. After flying the termite would fall to be eaten by the toad.' There is a long silence then he continues 'You cannot bite the hands that feed you. Our elders say that a child that wouldn't let his mother sleep, would lose sleep also. Nothing is hidden under the sun and one can decide to run but can't hide. The flesh makes us ignorant. We don't know more than we know, and the scales of ignorance can only fall off our eyes if pushed away by death. I ate in the house of the one I trusted and he served me the food of pain and death'. Everyone gasps. ' Umeadi my trusted friend put a knife through my heart. It hurt my soul more than it hurt my flesh'. Everyone screams, someone grabs uncle Umeadi by the neck, and restrains himself as he caught Papa staring at him. Uncle Umeadi is shaking like a chicken that has just been dipped into cold water
Papa stands, stretches his hands forward and the lights go off again. He had completed his mission. Silence falls again. The hairs at the back of my neck no longer stands, the goose bumps disappear. The atmosphere is back to normal except for the tension arising from the news we just heard. Papa had left Okenwa's body, and Okenwa lay motionless on the floor. His mother run towards him and places his head on her laps, he twitches and opens his eyes. I am overwhelmed with joy. It is possible that someone whose body was possessed by another spirit could not return because his own spirit might have wandered off and forgotten its way back.

Everyone exists the 'Nkolo' stiffly, shaking there heads, and cursing, men saying 'Aluu e mee', women saying 'Tufiakwa' . It is early morning and the cock had begin to crow. No one looks at Uncle Umeadi or say a word to him. Shock grips them beyond words. Tomorrow is for the thief.
But tomorrow is too late. Uncle Umeadi had hung himself on a tall tree before they could get to him. He is not buried. It is an abomination to soil the land with the body of someone who took his life with his hands. Uncle Umeadi's dead body is mutilated, his hands are caught off and sharp objects are used to make deep wounds on his face and body, so he doesn't come back as an evil child. His body is thrown into the deepest forest in the whole of Ugbenu town were evil spirits dwell.