Chapter 9: Graveyard Shadows

I go back crew. Next shoot na cemetery. To my shock, e no be set—the director people find real mass grave do location.

Rain dey fall, everywhere muddy. The smell of fresh earth dey mix with ogogoro from crew flask. Old people say graveyard no be place for play, but money dey call man.

Vex catch me. People wey no bury well dey vex pass. My body weak, I go waka for graveyard like goat enter lion den. Director use Baba Fatai pressure me, say na him request. Dem even wan use behind-the-scenes video do promo online. My own life no get meaning again.

The wind cold, e dey cut skin. I see one crew wey tie black cloth for neck, dey spray perfume every five minutes. He talk say spirit dey disturb am.

The shoot set for midnight next day. I tie my palm-wood charm well, just leave everything for God. Lucky for me, before shoot, my wife send good news—Chikamso surgery succeed, he don wake up.

As I hear the news, my body light. I drop for ground, thank God. My wife dey cry, say the doctor talk say na miracle. My spirit rise small—hope dey.

I tell her: even though I no sabi the donor, make we thank them for giving Chikamso new life. Pour libation for them, set up memorial for church, show gratitude and sorrow.

We dey Yoruba land, so I buy small schnapps, pour for red sand, call the donor name three times, beg am rest well, make e spirit no vex. My wife take the matter serious—she go do thanksgiving for church.

Filming start. Many people full set, though e dark, light dey everywhere. Still, cold just dey catch me, no gree go. One thought flash for my mind: all these people wey dey here, dem really dey alive so?

As I enter graveyard, my waist begin hot, the palm-wood charm dey shake—spirit dey ground. My mind no rest.

Omo, e be like say every shadow get eyes. I dey look left, look right, dey whisper Psalm 23 for mind. Cameraman dey adjust lens, but I know say everybody dey fear.

First, we do fight scene with ghost. Before I ready, one actor wey do ghost makeup jump from tombstone, grab my neck. I dodge, but the rotten smell wey follow am nearly kill me. The smell strong, e make me vex, the 'ghost' still pin me down, dey struggle.

I push am, complain:

"Una really use real smell for makeup or you never baff since?"

He no answer—just growl low. Fear catch me. Director voice enter my ear:

"Uncle Chijioke, your imaginary rehearsal just now good, but you stand up too quick. With the actor, make we try again! Ghost actor, ready!"

As he talk finish, young man for ghost makeup waka come from crowd—not far. I look ground—the 'actor' wey just dey with me don vanish. I just jam real ghost.

Cold breeze slap my face, my teeth dey chatter. Old mama for makeup dey warn, "No look back when you dey waka for graveyard—spirit fit follow you go house."

Cold run for my spine. I hold my breath. Old people say if you see real ghost, no shout, just bone face, so I bone face, whisper for heart, 'God, na you be my shield.'