NEW WAVE LAZARUS ( STORY OF AFRICAN GODS)

(Wide Awake3)

PATRICK..

January 10th, 1992, a day that saved my life and put me on a path to meet the greatest man I know, I was 10 at the time when I first met Elder Kalu in Kurumi market, Kano, he came to purchase textiles when I tried to steal his wallet with my homeless friends.

I got caught but they escaped, it wasn't our first time. We were already notorious in the market. "Haram," The act of theft, the elderlies took it upon themselves to pass severe punish men by pulling out my fingernails with pliers as a lesson, normally if I were an adult according to Islam, they would cut my wrist. Before the judgment was passed, Elder Kalu intervened on my behalf even willing to forfeit the money, he spoke with them and they came to some kind of agreement.

They told him the little they knew about me, my mother had 3 children, we moved from Mali during the Tuareg rebellion in 1990 and we ended up here. While in Kano, unfortunately for me I got displaced from my family during the Kano’s riot in 1991

I couldn't find them when I returned to our shelter. I didn't know if they were alive or dead.

I have been on my own ever since, homeless, feeding by relying on the kindness of strangers which didn't come very often, most times I starved. I later learned the pickpocketing act from older children like me, hunger can drive you to do things.

The world is a cruel place, you can't always expect kindness but I saw it in him, the man I stole from, after the talk with the elderly at the market, he took me with him to the East. He brought me to his home, after that day I never had to beg or steal from anyone again.

That man was my father, he never treated me different or turned me into a slave. I learned English with time even his native tongue. My name is Tarif, I made it my last name, picking the English one Elder Kalu named me after his old close friend Patrick, I became Patrick Tarif.

I had a good education, I studied civil engineering at the Federal University of Technology, Owerri. I became the only person he truly trusts.

Elder Kalu wasn't a perfect man with a perfect life, he was wealthy and had lots of acquaintances, few friends, and no family that I know of except maybe his only son but they've always been estranged even before we met. His wife passed away from an illness in the 80s, he never remarried.

I only saw his son a few times, the last was during his burial a month ago, he seemed shattered by the losses he had suffered this year. He stayed away from his father because Elder was a believer and worshipper of the old traditional Igbo deities, an ancestral practice that was passed on for generations, he had a secret room in his house, down the hallway and that's the only place I had no access to, it was sacred to him as his church or shrine, he always cleans the place himself.

I once asked him why I couldn't enter, he said there was something inside the room, only him and his bloodline could have access to, that if I enter he isn't sure how the thing inside would react and I might not make it out alive, I grew up in that house believing there was something dangerous

inside that room, I was afraid.

One day my curiosity got the best of me, I went into the room when Elder wasn't home to confront my fear.

To my disappointment there was no monster, just an empty room with a weird circle-like symbol and a chair in the middle, at the corner of the room was a wooden face mask hung on a metal pole, an eye symbol in the middle but Elder Kalu was right, I might not have left that room alive, I felt a presence in the room by just staring at the mask, goosebumps crawled over my skin, I fainted with no cause.

I woke up on the floor in the sitting room to find Elder Kalu watching me, he had pulled me out himself.

Relief on his face, he said I was lucky that the thing inside knew I was a part of the household and not an enemy, it would have taken my life.

After that day I never set foot in that room again.

It was a frightening thing to acknowledge and I understood why Elder's son wanted to escape his father and keep the ancestral practice away from his family as a Christian.

Chukwuemeka is his name, he has two kids and they live in Lagos.

The first time I saw the old man break was when he learned his grandchildren were dead, both kids in their youth, murdered by cultists in Lagos.

He wept, he didn't eat for days, the last group to carry on the family name was gone. Elder began spending more time in his secret room I dared not enter.

Sometimes, I'd hear him talk to himself, it's been more of him weeping and calling out his gods. He just turned 80 a few days before he got the news, he fell into despair.

I didn't know how to console him, I didn't how to help him. He decided to spend two days in his shrine fasting. I tried talking him out of the idea because of his health, he wouldn't listen to me, he was a stubborn old man.

After the two days of Elder staying in his shrine under close observation outside by me, he stepped out of the room in a brightened mood, the depression has been lifted.

" I have received good news my boy, a great revelation." He said to me.

"I know how to bring one of my grandchildren back to life, there's a lot to be done."

The moment those words came out of the Elder's mouth, I knew the old man had lost his mind.

At least, that's what I thought till we went to Lagos to visit his son to sympathize with his family, there were a lot of people coming around the house to do the same thing, family friends, co-workers and lots of other people, the story even made it to the newspapers, Chukwuemeka was a well-recognized businessman.

I left the old man there for a few days to be with his son, this loss was the one thing that brought them together after some years, they made preparations for the funeral arrangements.

The day after I brought Elder back to our base in Lagos, he had a visitor, an old friend of his whom looked twenty years younger than him, Mr. Bishop Onura, a very wealthy businessman, he always visited with private security, they talked for an hour and began arguing. I eavesdropped to understand what they were arguing about in the sitting room, probably about local politics.

"You cannot do that, it's wrong. The idea itself sounds ridiculous." Mr. Bishop said.

"Yes, I know how it sounds but it can be done, this is a rare opportunity, I can't afford to waste it." Elder replied.

"And at what cost, how do you intend to achieve such a feat?"

"I had a great revelation and I agreed."

"An agreement with who?" Mr. Bishop asked.

"You know who?"

"You're telling me you allied with a force that is unpredictable."

"It's a force I know, it's a force that my ancestors trusted and have been in service to for generations. I believe it has the power to make it happen."

" Whatever is stolen from nature, nature finds a way to take back."

"It's not stealing if you give back something to equal what you’ve taken, nature is difficult but she can be reasoned with."

" It's a life for a life, whose life do you intend to sacrifice?"

"Mine,"

"I can't listen to this, I can't watch you follow this dark dream."

"We've been friends for over 40years, you and I have seen impossible things, you're a living embodiment of a miracle. I'm going to do it with or without your help.

I just want you to stand with me for the little time I have left."

Mr. Bishop left the house with a disheartening look on his face.

These men had gone beyond arguing, how impossible it would be to almost believe it was possible in some way even though they were on different sides on what follows and the cost.

We returned to Obegu, our base in the East where the final burial ceremony was going to take place, the children were going to be buried in their hometown.

During the final period before and after the burial ceremony, at daytime Elder would go stay over at his son's house, help receive local visitors that came to pay their condolences for their loss and at night he would go into his secret room with his mystical books till the following morning.

You would think an Alumni of the Birkbeck University of London with a Master degree would be enlightened enough to stop chasing fairytales

He was devoted to his insanity, maybe it was because of his age, the older you get the more you begin to lose touch with reality. There's no way I was going to let myself believe it was possible to give life to the dead despite what had happened to me in that room.

On the day of the burial ceremony, Mr. Bishop Onura paid a visit to Obegu town to pay his respect I believe, and to be there for his old friend. I never anticipated the two old men had ulterior motives planned after the burial ceremony.

At 1 am that morning, eleven hours after the children have been put in the ground, buried next to each other in empty family land.

Elder Kalu woke me up. We were going for a drive with his friend, they put a shovel, a big sized rechargeable flashlight in the car and a small blue flower vase with its mouth covered with a black cloth, they told me to drive them to the empty family land where the children were buried.

Somehow Mr. Bishop and Elder Kalu who I thought were on opposite sides on the outrageous idea had found a way to be on the same page.

Mr. Bishop intentionally told his security guards not to follow. Both of them at the back seat talking while I drove in the dark, through the rough dirty road. Elder picked up the flower vase and removed the black cloth, took out wrapped nylon of bitter kola from his pocket, put it into a vase and placed back the black cloth, I watched them from the rear.

"What's the purpose of this?" Mr. Onura asked referring to a vase.

" We will bury it in the ground, on top of my grandson."

" What would it do?"

"It's a charm to preserve the body against decay"

The old Igbo natives have this belief that bitter kola itself is a kind of anti-poison, it could also be used to ward off snakes and evil men with juju. Elder always encouraged I put one in my pocket whenever I receive local visitors, for protection.

Now, it was not just one man with the crazy idea of resurrection but two men that were delusional. Then it struck me, what if these men were not delusional now, they were confident that whatever magical power they use would work.

I dropped them off at the gate of the fenced land. Elder Kalu told me to wait in the car, they took the flashlight, shovel, and vase with them like he knew I wasn't going to be comfortable with whatever they were about to do next. After what happened to me in that shrine room, I stayed away from everything concerning Elder and his traditional practices.

They were going desecrate a grave. I could have stopped them if I wanted to, I could threaten him that I would tell his son but I couldn't because the old man trusted me and I was loyal to him, telling Chukwuemeka would just damage their already fragile relationship besides the boy was already gone, what's the worst thing they could do.

It took them almost 2 hours, they returned without the vase, dropping the shovels in the trunk. I drove them back.

"Assuming all of this works out in the end, what's the plan for him, would he go back to his family?" Mr. Onura asked.

"No, he can't go back to them" Elder replied sternly.

"Then what's the point?"

"First, he'll need to be free by holding up my end of the bargain,"

"This force you've bargained with, what did it want in return?"

"Transport through the boy in exchange for waking him up, after that, whatever decision the boy makes is left to him." Elder Kalu said

"If it needs the boy as a host, where does it want to go?" Mr. Onura asked.

"Egypt, I'll be putting things in place as a means to reintegrate him back into society."

" He will need a new identity" Mr. Onura muttered.

"That would be the part where I would require your help again." Elder Kalu said to him

"So what's happens next?"

"It's the final part on my end, I will need to make the trip to find him as we discussed." Elder Kalu answered.

I didn't know Elder Kalu had travel plans nor who he was talking about finding. They were both silent while I drove back.

Mr. Onura left at dawn after we returned, the way they said their goodbye this time was unusual, not like they used to, they shook hands and hugged like saying a final goodbye to someone you won't be seeing again or in a long time. The look on Mr. Onura's face was gloomy before he left

The days that followed were strategic for Elder Kalu, lots of planning, and putting things in place for the sake of his outrageous idea. He moved a lot of money from his business account to an unknown account, I thought maybe it was for his trip.

The old man was determined, I had to admit.

May 1, 2016

2 weeks after the burial, it rained all through the night leaving a chilly air at dawn, Elder and I were supposed to survey an acre of land that morning for a business transaction at 10 am.

I noticed the secret room was open when I walked through the passage leading to Elder's room to wake him up, I called him out but no response, he never left that door open, not once for all the years I have been with him.

I found Elder on his bed lying still and faced up to the ceiling with his eyes open. I knew something was wrong, I shook him, he didn't budge, he wasn't moving or breathing at all. The old man was dead.

I was still in shock even when I called an ambulance, they took him away to the mortuary after confirming he was gone. I was now faced with making the hardest phone call of my life, having to tell Chukwuemeka that his father just passed away a week after he just buried his children.

The man was old but wasn't sick, he was healthy. It didn't make sense he would pass on like that.

Chukwuemeka was confused and dumbfounded when I told him. He wasn't ready for it. He broke down and cried, life had already taken too much from him.

When I broke the bad news to Mr. Bishop his response was rather unexpected.

He wasn't surprised, he just asked when it happened then told me to go to Elder Kalu's room and check in one of his drawers that I would find a letter meant for me.

Later, after the chaotic depressing day of putting the old man's body in the mortuary, I returned to the house then it dawned on me that I was alone and I just lost a man who was like a father to me, the man who saved my life and gave me everything.

I went to Elder Kalu's room to find a letter as Mr. Onura said.

I found it at the drawer where he kept his documents. It was put in an envelope with my name boldly written at the back.

"My boy, I am sure you're reading this letter as a result of my death, Mr. Bishop must have told you where to find this. I knew this was coming, I couldn't tell you myself, I didn't want to say it.

You're the closest person I have, I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye. My death is a journey I chose to embark knowing I won't return to finish what I had already started. I am going to find my grandson and I’m going to send him back home to you.

Please do not reject him out of fear, I know it's a lot to ask.

It's likely he will be confused and won't know what happened to him, you and Mr. Bishop will help ease him in on the details. Take care of the boy like you took care of me and do not let him go home.

He has his journey ahead of him.

I want you to observe him, take him to see Mr. Bishop when you think he is ready. Look out for him like you would do for me.

Have a great a life,

Elder Kalu."

I shut the door to the secret room I found open earlier, sealing it up with a padlock.

I didn't know what to say, this was what he meant by going on a trip to find someone. I didn't know it was a person who was dead.

I can't explain what happened to him or how he died, all I know is that the shrine room had a part to play in it. I was tired of all the strange mystical juju nonsense the old man had absorbed himself in.

I tried dealing with the loss one day at a time.

I couldn't begin to comprehend how his son would be feeling.

I didn't have a clear mental picture of what Elder Kalu's grandson looked like, so I searched him on through the burial brochures and social media with the name Jeremiah Kalu and found his page filled with his pictures and hundreds of R.I.P posts on his timeline.

I kept asking what my reaction would be if this boy came for real, knocked at the gate, would I let him in?

The question lingered on my mind even after the old man's burial. Death had feasted on the family. 2 months had passed, no one came and then another. Life takes and doesn't give back.

I loved the old man even though he was delusional and that's what probably killed him.

I decided to move out of the house to an apartment I rented in Aba for quick access to my workplace.

I was going to move that week, I was cooking in the kitchen when I heard the gate bell, and someone was outside.

I haven't received a lot of visitors in the house since the old man passed away. When I opened the gate, I froze staring at who was standing before me.