Chapter 2: Hiding From Ekwensu

I run for my life, crawling and running at the same time, till I jam my Grandma Ngozi door. The door creak loud for the quiet night.

I no even send if I dey wake anybody. My knee dirty, sand full my leg. For my mind, na only Grandma fit save me.

“Grandma... the rooster... e tall reach your height...” I dey wave my hands anyhow, words just dey tumble out from my mouth.

My voice dey shake, my body dey cold, sweat mix with sand for my forehead. My teeth dey knock together like spoon for plate.

But Grandma understand sharp-sharp. She hug me tight, her face come serious. She rub my back, smell of camphor and old palm oil enter my nose.

She rub my back, hold me steady. “My pikin, calm down. Ndo—sorry. Wetin you see?” Her wrapper tie well, but her eyes don sharp.

“Ah, wahala don enter. That one na Ekwensu spirit. E fit talk like human being, and e like to chop pikin flesh. E don already target you now.”

Her voice low, like whisper for midnight. She look window, spit small for ground, then mutter short prayer in Igbo: "Chineke, chebe anyi."

As she see say my body dey shake, she quickly blow out the kerosene lamp, hide me under thick wrapper, then whisper, “Ekwensu no dey see well for night, but e hear well well. Lie down for mat, no make any noise. I go go outside, try distract am.”

She arrange the wrapper like say she dey hide yam from goat. I smell that her old palm oil and bitterleaf scent. My heart dey beat loud for my own ear.

She waka out quietly. I just curl up under the thick wrapper, hug myself, squeeze my eyes shut, no even fit breathe well. I dey whisper "God abeg, cover me with your hand."

I dey try remember all the church songs, but my mouth dry. For that darkness, every small sound dey loud—rat for ceiling, breeze for window.

That Ekwensu bird—the way e feathers dey shine for darkness, those green eyes wey be like jewel, the long sharp beak, and the way e dey talk—just dey play for my mind like film.

I remember stories Grandma dey tell about evil spirits for village, the kind wey if dem call your name three times for night, better make you pray make your head no turn.

I no even know how long I dey like that. My leg don numb, everywhere just quiet. I begin wan comot my head small make breeze touch me.

Na so moonlight show one big shadow, conical like hat, press for window. My breath hang for throat. Next thing, I hear footsteps dey come near the door.

My skin prick. For my mind, na so this thing go reach me. Even the lizard for ceiling stop move.

Knock—kpom, kpom—goosebumps just full my body.

The sound heavy, like person dey knock on top coffin for burial. My back press ground more, I dey wish say I fit disappear.

Next thing, I hear Grandma voice, dey rush: “Chikamso, open door, quick!”

But my ear dey doubt. The voice soft, but get one kind echo—like when radio dey catch station halfway.

Tears rush my eyes. I throw wrapper commot, jump from mat, rush go the door.

My leg tangle for wrapper, but I manage get up, run pass table, my mind just dey scream, "Grandma!"

Grandma don come back.

My spirit calm small, but inside my chest still dey drum.

But I stop.

Something inside me freeze. My hand hover for door. Wetin if na spirit dey pretend?

If na really Grandma, she for just enter by herself, abi?

For our house, Grandma no dey knock, especially if e be emergency. She sabi all the keys for the door. My mind dey suspect.

As I remember say Ekwensu sabi mimic human voice, I freeze for dark room, fear just pin me for ground.

My body heavy. My mouth open, but I no fit talk. I remember all the old stories about masquerades and spirits wey dey act like your relative.

The knocking come dey more serious. Suddenly—gbam—the door open. Moonlight just enter, that same big shadow stretch enter house. One long neck poke inside, dey look around, then I hear one rough voice:

My blood cold. I fit smell smoke from the lamp outside. The air thick with fear.

“Chikamso...”

I hear my name for that voice and I wan faint. My skin crawl, I wan vomit—how spirit fit sound like my Grandma? The room cold, but sweat dey my face.

My heart nearly jump comot my chest. I hold breath, no fit move at all.

Even as I dey try hold myself, my fingers dey dig for mat, my legs weak.

From small light for window, I see Ekwensu neck dey swing left and right, two claws dey search ground, like say person dey feel road.

E be like spirit dey hunt for prey. My breath dey short, I dey recite Psalm 23 for my mind.

E jam one chair, then waka come near. If e pass the table, e go soon reach where I dey hide.

The chair shake, make sound, but Ekwensu no send. My mind dey race: if e see me, na finish be that.

Panic grip me. I just remove my rubber slippers, fling am outside. Gbam—the slippers land for muddy compound.

Na so I take remember advice say if evil dey chase you, make you confuse am. My heart dey my mouth as I throw the slippers, hope say e go work.

Ekwensu stop, flap wing, rush outside.

E make one kind noise, like goat wey see lion. I hear sand scatter for compound as e run.

Na that chance I use, dash go wardrobe. The wardrobe na old style, one mirror dey top left, big red double blessing sticker for there, right side reach ground. E no too big, but I squeeze enter.

The back of wardrobe dey cold, dust dey everywhere, but I press myself. The mirror don crack before, and the sticker dey fade. I dey shake, but I no care.

Ekwensu come back soon, e don realize say dem don deceive am.

The footsteps heavy, like grown man. I hear feather brush door, then sharp hiss.

E hiss, begin scatter everywhere for the room.

I dey hear plates dey fall, old calabash break, e even kick Grandma prayer mat. My fear no get measure.

Everywhere e go, I dey hear things dey break—Grandma water kettle, the ugu she plant by window.

The ugu leaves scatter, water drip for ground. The air smell of mud and kerosene. I dey bite my finger, hope say e no see me.

Soon, e reach wardrobe, begin knock am. Gbas—the mirror scatter.

Glass prick my scalp, dust choke my nose, but I no fit even cough. The noise loud, my heart nearly stop.

As e see space behind mirror, e begin stamp foot with excitement.

The whole wardrobe dey shake, dust enter my nose. I wan sneeze, but I hold am with all my power.

I hold my breath, chest dey move up and down, cold sweat dey run my back.

I dey pray silently. "Chineke, biko. Help me. Make dem no see me."

Soon, one claw stretch come the right wardrobe door.

The shadow big, cover everything. I dey beg for my mind, "I no wan die."