Chapter 7: Bonfire of the Damned

I press am: "You know before say person go try kill me?"

I dey wait for answer, dey pray say e go talk true. My battery dey low, but I no wan plug phone, make I no miss any message.

E send plenty messages:

"No, but I know say something dey always happen for this date every year."

That one scatter my brain. E get as e be say na every year dem dey repeat this wahala. Na ritual or curse?

"I dey find my younger brother. E disappear from this estate exactly one year ago today. No trace—the police no find anything."

As I read am, my mind dey cold. So na personal matter e dey chase. E pain e reach bone. For Naija, family matter deep pass anything.

"The night before e disappear—na tonight last year—e send me message. Screenshot: dem make am group-buy ‘joke’."

I see the screenshot, e resemble the one wey I see tonight. My spirit shake. Wetin dey happen for this estate? Why police never close down the place since?

I shock.

Fear hold me like say I see masquerade for broad daylight. This estate na death trap. I dey wish say I never move in.

I no even know say this kind thing don happen here before. I never even see am online.

I dey try remember if I ever hear any gist for Facebook, Nairaland, or Twitter. Nothing. Dem hide the story well.

I remember him warning, I ask: "Why I no fit escape? Why you say if I comot, na die sure pass?"

I dey hope say e go give me correct answer. I dey desperate. My palm dey sweat as I hold phone.

E answer straight: "Because outside no safe."

Na heavy line. Outside wey suppose be freedom, na death e be. Wahala dey. I dey fear to even open window now.

E send video.

My mind dey shake. Video for this time of night? I dey hope say no be anything wey go give me heart attack.

I open am—my brain just blank.

As I press play, the screen shake. I see fire, real bonfire for open ground. Six shadowy people dey dance round am, laundry pole for hand, body parts dey hang like suya for display. Dem dey move wild, as if dem dey possessed.

Na shaky, zoomed video, so e no clear. But I see our compound open space, bonfire dey burn.

For Lagos, we dey burn fire for end of year, but this one different. The air for video look thick. My heart dey pound.

Six people, each hold laundry pole, dey dance like craze people around the fire.

Their shadow dey move up and down, like say dem no be human. For background, faint chanting dey, like say incantation dey go on. I dey hear faint police siren for distance, but no help dey come.

For top the poles, dem hang body parts—head, hands, chest, legs.

As I see am, I near vomit. Na real human part, not even goat or ram. My stomach turn. My eye dey water.

Dem dey move like say na some mad ritual…

My mind dey imagine say na old village cult. For city, e hard to see this kain thing. But for this estate, na real.

But wetin fear me pass be—

Some people wey wear police uniform stand near, just dey look.

For background, I see two, maybe three, officers. E dey clear say dem no dey stop anything. Dem just dey stand, dey guide like bouncer.

Dem no even try do anything.

I dey shout for my mind: "Olopa, help us!" But dem no move muscle. Na like say dem dey protect the ritual, not us.

No be say dem agree—

For their body language, e dey obvious say dem no send us. E fit be say na dem self dey inside.

Na like say dem dey guide the ritual.

I dey fear for my life. If police join wahala, who go help?

E too mad, I no believe my eye.

My hand dey shake. I dey want off the video, but I dey watch finish. E be like say my fate dey hang for that bonfire.

I wan off the video, but my eye no gree blink—na like when village people dey do masquerade festival, but this one na evil.

602 message again:

"Outside don turn like this. You still wan escape?"

The message loud. For my mind, I know say if I step out, na my own be that. My heart dey knock. I dey wish say all this na dream.