Chapter Two

I had never been a prayer ful child, I had my mom and dad doing it for me, I didn't see the point. I always heard my dad praying seriously, calling the names of his children as he prayed, he called us one after the other, and I was his first child, every morning he already prayed for me, mentioning my name as he prayed, my mother too prayed for me, every time she got on her knees to pray, or shut her eyes to communicate with God, I was certain she prayed about me. And my uncle was the Bishop of our church, he prayed for me and my sisters. I honestly saw no reason to worry myself praying again. If I had anything to pray about, I would just tell Mom, and boom, she will tell Dad and both of them would pray about it. It was really simple then, not praying, it was simple, as it was dangerous.

I did not pray so much until that day, the day the dreams started.

In Okrika, it was not uncommon for someone to go through diabolic means to kill you because of your house, or you did better than them, they really did not need a reason honestly, they just needed to have something of yours that would be beneficial to the 'work' they were about to do. Sometimes it was just your name, other times a piece of your hair, a picture of you will do too.

My dad's brother had a little disagreement, and he decided it would be best to visit one traditional worshipper. That night I had gone to bed full of the rice that my mom had prepared for us. And as I slept, it was like I was floating, then I appeared some where, I gasped, but they could not hear me. They just carried on what they were doing. I placed a palm over my lips, eyes wide open, I was almost crying, I did not know why I was there. The place was scary, full of skulls and red and black material, the men that were there wore red cloth on their waists, and applied chalk on their eyes. I hid behind a rock, because even though I had not been here before I my life, I knew from enough stories that this was a house of a native doctor, also known as the house of a traditional worshipper, also known as the house people come to get powers to destroy their fellow human being. Now the big question was, why was I here? Another question how did I get here? My fourteen years old mind was racing would possibilities. Did someone summon me? Someone wanted me dead? Or deaf or dumb? The list was actually endless, they could do anything. I looked around, there were weird things everywhere. And no body to save me. No one I knew was here, a sob escaped my lips, I quickly covered my mouth before they heard me. I turned to look at them, neither of them saw me. They were still incantating, I raised my head to get a better view, suddenly one of them entered inside, I was standing close to the door, so he passed me, without seeing me. Was it my luck that he didn't see me, or was he very careless he didn't see me? But that was impossible, he would have seen me.

"I am so sorry I am late." He apologized. I knew that voice, I walked up to him.. he looked familiar, but he was backing me, so I couldn't say for sure. As I got closer, none of them saw me. Suddenly the man turned and I gasped, losing my footing from shock, I fell on my butt, and none of them looked my way.

"Next time, it won't be accepted." The one that looked like the leader told my uncle harshly. Yes my uncle, my father's younger brother was in a place of filth, he was here, meaning he wanted something from them, my dad described them as lost. Because they did not know where to go to got help, they turned to diabolic means. I thought they were stupid, because they could easily go to Jesus, but I guess they were impatient.

"It won't happen again." My uncle apologized again. My proud uncle, that would never succumb to my father's wishes, was here bowing down to these demonic people.

I got to my feet, I figured they didn't see me, so I walked towards him.

"Did you bring it?" The leader asked him.

"Yes." My uncle said producing a wrapper, my eyes widened, I knew that wrapper anywhere, it was something that covered me every night before I went to bed if there was cold, it was something my dad used to cover his chest anytime he wanted to dye his hair. But it had been missing for a few days now, when I went to spread it on the rope we shared with a few neighbors, my dad had waved it off, didn't want to point fingers. But my uncle had seen it as an opportunity to destroy him. He had presented my dad's wrapper to these evil people.

Enraged I ran towards him to hit him, and instead I passed through him. And appeared in my room, I was on my bed, panting heavily, really heavily. Sweat beads formed on my forehead. I had never seen something like that in my entire life.

I started crying, I didn't know what to make of it, I knew it was a dream, a very very bad one. I cried until morning, until I had no more tears to cry. I cried because o didn't know what to do, should I tell my parents about it? Should I just leave and peg it as my over active imaginations? But it was too real.

I remembered my uncle, he was nice to us, he always teased my dad about naming all his children big English names, everyone in Okrika said that, they always called us by our dialect names, because they couldn't pronounce our English ones.

The next morning, I saw my uncle walk past me with that same wrapper in his hands. My heart stopped, I ran back home.

"Daddy! Uncle Fubara is carrying your red wrapper to a juju priest!" I exclaimed. He looked at me weird. And I calmed down and explained my dream to him, and what I had seen earlier. He looked at me with pride, and I reveled in that look. He walked away, and I walked to my room too.

That night my dad prayed all through the night, he literally prayed throughout the night. The next morning, my uncle fell sick and left the house. We lived in a family house, and it was the house he wanted that took him there, and I saw it happen in my dream, and dad prayed.. and it back fired. Because the next time I saw my uncle, I didn't recognize him.

But that was just the beginning of my dreams.