I am yet to meet the Nigerian who does not believe in the reality of witches. For the average Nigerian, witches are as real as God almighty himself.
The greatest attribute of a witch is, POWER. Any witch worth his, sorry, her venom must have lots of power. Hem, not the ‘gra-gra’ type of power commonly exhibited by unlicensed boxers and wrestlers such as motor park touts, thugs and ‘area boys.’ The power of the witch is the sedulous, insidious, mysterious type. Of course a ‘correct’ witch must abound in wickedness and be a perpetual incubator of sorrow, blood and tears in other human beings.
A well brought up witch is a firm believer and practitioner of the proverb; ‘charity begins at home,’ so a good witch ensures that the majority of the beneficiaries of her prowess are well within her jurisdiction; husbands, wives, children, siblings, cousins, in-laws, neighbours, family friends, office colleagues etc. This is to fulfill the scripture that says that a man’s foes are members of his own household; another way of saying that the insect that eats up the vegetable resides in the vegetable.
A proper witch does not go about boasting about her powers. She is a silent achiever. A quiet undertaker. A masked terror. A compassionate killer. When a cultured witch has done her humble task, she offers her heart-felt condolences and so often sheds bucketfuls of noncommissioned tears. They offer touching commiserations. They are the ones who surreptitiously arrange for Ajala to get a hiding, then turn round mouth agape to ask in all innocence – “Ajala, who beat you up so badly like this?”
Clearly then, the witch is a master of subterfuge, a hidden but deadly danger, the archetypal green snake under the green grass. Fortunately for everybody, a witch does not know how to die peacefully or quietly. When the end is near, the memories of all her evil achievements rise up to torment the witch. The witch now sees her so-called achievements as they truly are; acts of utter wickedness to fellow human beings.
Tormented beyond belief, the witch to obtain relief, confesses, usually in a large, open place with a lot of people around, to all his wicked deeds. Flogged mercilessly by a suddenly awakened conscience and with the damning prospect of a hellish after-life very much open to the tormented soul, the witch reveals all, in a no-holds-barred manner.
Let me give you a sample:
The greatest attribute of a witch is, POWER. Any witch worth his, sorry, her venom must have lots of power. Hem, not the ‘gra-gra’ type of power commonly exhibited by unlicensed boxers and wrestlers such as motor park touts, thugs and ‘area boys.’ The power of the witch is the sedulous, insidious, mysterious type. Of course a ‘correct’ witch must abound in wickedness and be a perpetual incubator of sorrow, blood and tears in other human beings.
A well brought up witch is a firm believer and practitioner of the proverb; ‘charity begins at home,’ so a good witch ensures that the majority of the beneficiaries of her prowess are well within her jurisdiction; husbands, wives, children, siblings, cousins, in-laws, neighbours, family friends, office colleagues etc. This is to fulfill the scripture that says that a man’s foes are members of his own household; another way of saying that the insect that eats up the vegetable resides in the vegetable.
A proper witch does not go about boasting about her powers. She is a silent achiever. A quiet undertaker. A masked terror. A compassionate killer. When a cultured witch has done her humble task, she offers her heart-felt condolences and so often sheds bucketfuls of noncommissioned tears. They offer touching commiserations. They are the ones who surreptitiously arrange for Ajala to get a hiding, then turn round mouth agape to ask in all innocence – “Ajala, who beat you up so badly like this?”
Clearly then, the witch is a master of subterfuge, a hidden but deadly danger, the archetypal green snake under the green grass. Fortunately for everybody, a witch does not know how to die peacefully or quietly. When the end is near, the memories of all her evil achievements rise up to torment the witch. The witch now sees her so-called achievements as they truly are; acts of utter wickedness to fellow human beings.
Tormented beyond belief, the witch to obtain relief, confesses, usually in a large, open place with a lot of people around, to all his wicked deeds. Flogged mercilessly by a suddenly awakened conscience and with the damning prospect of a hellish after-life very much open to the tormented soul, the witch reveals all, in a no-holds-barred manner.
Let me give you a sample:
“Ha, Adekunle Ojo, ha! ha! ha! Let God forgive me!
Please forgive me! Adekunle, you came to me in Kaduna.
You came with your people. To my house, to seek my support for your ambition to become the 2nd Vice-President of the NBA.
You trusted me but you didn’t know that I was not for you.
Yes, I gave you advice to see a certain big man in Ibadan and to get him to like you.
I told you not to waste your money on certain logistics.
In short I gave you good advice but, I knew I was not for you.
I and some other people you regard as elders, fathers, etc., did not want you to succeed. We wanted a Northern star to shine, not a Western star. Certainly not your own star.
We have seen your star and we know how brightly it would shine later on in life so we didn’t want that.
So we worked day and night against you.
So we worked day and night against you.
Alas, my son, you won! God is great! Forgive me! Forgive me!"
I am speaking to the deep here.
No comments:
Post a Comment