The Horror of Loneliness

It was the usual dark night of the tropical rainy season in my rural town. The cloud was stormy and no star in the sky could be found. There was no fuel in my lamp and no electricity in my town. The only source of light I had was the flash of the lighting which was accompanied by the fearful roar of the thunder storm. I had it in mind to go out in order to get kerosene or candle from the nearby store before it was too dark; but I decided to wait until the rain was over for the new moon to glow. I felt it was the best decision; of course, it was because I did not want to get wet in the extreme cold of the liquid snow.  My house was big but no one else was there except me, or may be with my soul. My Dad and Mom had gone to a place unknown; no one knew if they would ever return. I grew up with the vague story of how Mom disappeared and Dad went to search for her, but never returned. My nanny was in charge of me from childhood, as at this time she was deceased although I still dined with her sometimes in my dreams. I had no friends because I was advised that people were evil and I had to stay away from interacting with them. There was only one friend who stayed by me all my life, every moment, every second and every breath; its name was Fear of the Unknown.  The most unique aspect of my world was the location of my house. Dad built it far away from every other inhabitants of the entire land. Yes! I loved it because I thought he needed to raise me up in a serene environment where there would be no noise for distraction nor troubles from the bad neighbours. We were surrounded by forests which had stories of unexplained mysteries. The cemetery of our town was located right by the hills a few metres away from our fenceless kitchen. You could perceive them leaving their silent dark abode to unknown business by the midnight of the evil seasons. We did not really care because the name of my town was “Mind Your Business”. I grew up in the midst of these stories and scenes but I was good with it because I felt it was my fate. I did not know the truth until this very day. Although I did not know my dad so well, neither could I recognize my mum; I could recall some of the things I knew about them as a little 'kid'. Dad was tall, hairy, dark in complexion and had a lion’s voice. My mum in the other hand was short, soft, smooth and had a light bright voice like African nightingale. I could recall when dad would return home with some scary wild animals which he killed during his usual hunting in the forest, our scary home. I never knew dad as a palm wine tapper but the old dark brownish calabashes I grew up to see in our smoke-darkened kitchen shelfs, various types of hatchets and traps offered me a crew of his occupational diversity. Mum spent most of her times at home, farm or sometimes in the forest springs. I cannot really tell if she had a handwork if I may have to be sincere; but handling kitchen chores and caring for the home were big enough to prove how engaged she was to ensure things were in place. Dad would bring raffia palm branches to extract raffia palm fibres (idut) for the production of twines and production of double loop climbing rope known as ikpo for the climbing of palm trees; while mum was assisting in sewing the thatches which were the dominant roofing material of the entire community. Making of baskets from palm fronds and foot mats from the palm barks were common for everyone to learn as well as palm fruit harvesting. I knew how to make thatch when I was ten through my nanny, while trap making was my inborn talent; without it how would I survived in the middle of nowhere? The rain had refused to stop as I predicted and it was already too late in the thick night. I began to imagine how I would walk miles away through the mire soil of the narrow rain forest tract. I opted to sleep until it was dawn but I felt I still had a century hour to stay in the dark room before the arrival of the glorious dawn. I had never slept in a dark room since I grew up but I thought I had no option. The memory of my late nanny flashed immediately through my whole soul. As if I was poured tonnes of icebergs, my entire body shivered in cold of fear. My ears began to wave as if I heard her whisper to me her usual advice, “Do not sleep in the dark room, always ensure your light is on. Evil spirits find abode in the dark, they may come after you while you are asleep”. The fear in me became so intense and my body felt a shock as if I had a thousand volts of current passing through my nerves. My feet were weakened and my entire body colder as if I fell into the artic ice. It was then I knew I was not alone in the room, perhaps something evil was watching me all these whiles. Would I survive tonight; what if I die how would it feel? I asked myself. “Oh, I need light to scare away whatever is in here with me”, I whispered once more. Now how would I pass through this dark thick evil forest to where there is light so I could get fuel for my lamp? I was in a state of psychological limbo and emotionally incapacitated but I knew if I stayed, I would die; and if I moved, I might still die too. I wished I could just disappear like Dad and Mum or go search for Dad too and never return in order to escape the agony, fear and pain of the death. I gazed at the dark sky with the filtering rays of lightning flashes through the termite rotten frame of my poor window. My mind got stuck by several thoughts; then one fact flowed smoothly like pure honey through my empty brain. The fear of the night storm made me curious to know where thunder and lightning originates to spew havoc upon us the tellurians. Then I remembered that thunder and lightning emerge from the devil’s valley, a faraway abyss at the distant horizon where the ends of the earth and the pillars that hold our world are located. It is the same location that holds ugly demons and the soul of those who lived in evil and were unable to pass through the gates of Obio ekpo (the underworld) into the crowded city to dine with their ancestors. I wondered how those souls survive in the thick darkness and able to cope in the loud cry of the evil gods and the flashes of their eyes which cause thunder and lightning. No wonder some of them run out in form of a ram and then turn to the thunderstone whenever the thunder gets angry with trees which do not obey the laws of nature or people who have offended their in-laws or grandchildren. Then I stretched my neck as long as I could to take a glimpse of the horizon if I could see the opening entrance of the abyss or souls going through it into the hades. The thick tall old woods of the dark forest surrounding my abode had chosen to block my view. All I could see was snakes of light flashes moving up from the far earth into the sky’s sea where the sun had taken its deep sleep before the night arrived with its usual mares. The reverberative whispering of my nanny never stopped to come as the gentle night breeze that found my room to be its only way rowed through my entire hut causing ‘jaka jaka’ sounds within its joist. The whispering was at least manageable because I knew it was from a good ghost. Of course, my nanny would not harm me, even though she did, she would lead my soul to my late parents; but the increasing intrusion of unknown spews of whispers into my ears increased my nyctophobia.