Chapter 8: Breaking the Chains

The old man talk, "For mountain, weather dey change anyhow, no worry, I get lantern."

With the lantern light, I look the small road, then say:

My leg dey shake, the ground soft like yam flour. I no sure if na dream or real, but I just dey follow.

"Baba, you know before say mist go come? I think say na because your eye no dey see well. Ehn, you sef no look like person from our village o?"

The old man look back, "Young man, abeg no ask, to save person dey urgent. Na now sure pass. If we waste time, my grandson fit die."

As he talk finish, he waka fast. I look am, shock again. How old man take dey waka fast like this? Maybe na because e dey worry for im grandson.

I rush try catch up, but no matter how I try, I no fit reach am. But e still dey for front, no far no near. I just dey jog dey go.

My breath dey hot for chest, sweat dey my face even for dream. For Naija, when matter serious, old person fit find strength, na spirit power.

I no know how long I run, but road finish, I dey pant. I see say old man stop too, I ask:

"Road don finish. Where your grandson dey?"

The old man point inside small mist, "My grandson dey there."

I look where he point. For one big stone wey be like rectangle, one small boy, like seven or eight years, dey tied with thick iron chain. The boy don thin, face white, like person wey dey die. The stone self, na old tree branch wrap am tight.

For Igbo custom, if pikin dey tied like that, people dey talk say e fit be ogbanje matter. But I no fit talk am, na just fear catch me.

That time, I shout:

"Baba, how we go take save am?"