CURSE OF THE LIVING DEAD PRINCESS

CHAPTER ONE

Nigeria, 1981.

Pastor Samuel Emike smiled broadly to himself as he left the king's palace and walked along the earth road that led from the palace to his elegant country home. He was glad to be in his village for the first time in many years. Pastor Samuel, who was of the same lineage with the king of Ominede, always visited the palace with gifts anytime he came home to his village.

It was night and the moon was not only out early, but full. It would have been a dark night but for the full moon - he had been told that the public electricity company was yet to restore electricity supply to the village for the fourth day running.

It was one of those proverbial nights when cripples longed for a walk. A clear, black, velvety sky sprinkled with bright, twinkling stars surrounded a full moon holding court. The effect of the full moon on the countryside was magical. Wayside bushes and trees wore gilt edges, humble houses took on a surreal beauty; even the few mud-brick houses of some of the village's residents stood out like scenic creations on a talented artist's canvas painting. The night, Samuel thought, was akin to poetry itself, a night many a bard could draw inspiration from.

Samuel smiled again, this time in nostalgic recollection of the sights and sounds of moonlit nights in his native Ominede. He had fond memories of such blissful nights which he once shared with childhood friends and playmates while growing up in the village.

The preacher was in his village for the Christmas holidays. He had arrived Ominede three hours before and had immediately set out on foot for the palace. He hardly drove around in his big car anytime he visited his village because the natural countryside air was invigorating, and he knew walking was good exercise for him.

The man of God whistled now, trying to play a part in nature's inimitable orchestra of singing night birds, croaking frogs, chirping crickets and sundry sounds from countless other creatures. Even the empty spaces played their part, amplifying the unique symphony of the night. Samuel's part didn't come out as well as it would have a few years before, and he realised with some concern that he was wheezing instead of whistling. He was clearly physically unfit. Too much work and too little leisure and exercise, Samuel told himself. He made a mental note to go for a medical check up after the holidays.

A group of children ran past him, giggling and singing the chorus of a folk song he remembered singing as a young boy. Many boys and girls were playing moonlight games in front of their houses. It was amazing, he reflected, that electricity, television and all the technology that the twentieth century had to offer had not succeeded in obliterating the tradition of moonlight games in his dear village.

He got home and was pleasantly surprised to see his own sons playing in the expansive front yard of his beautiful country home. The house was a large duplex tucked away in an expansive fenced compound. Solar lights blazed inside the house and all around the property. The preacher's sons were chasing fireflies and moths and were so engrossed in their moonlight play that they didn't notice their father's arrival. Their mother was relaxing on one of several plastic chairs arranged around a wide glass table on the well-lit portico, apparently keeping an eye on the kids.

"Welcome, darling," Mrs. Rebecca Emike said as her husband joined her. She was a plump, beautiful woman in her early forties, and she radiated a certain warmth, charm and calmness befitting her position as wife of one of Southern Nigeria's most charismatic and successful pastors.

"How is the king and the royal family?"

"Oh, they are all fine, dear." Samuel planted a kiss on his wife's cheek. In his late forties, Pastor Emike was a tall, scraggy man with a handsome and compassionate face. Everyone close to him blamed his lean frame on frequent long-term dry fasting which his pastoral calling frequently demanded. "The king asked after you and the children. I see our boys are having fun."

"They have been out here playing since we unpacked. I think we should bring them to the village more often.

Samuel exhaled. "I wish we could bring our boys here more often. The kids need to get familiar with their roots and we equally can do with a break every now and then. But you know how busy it is in God's vineyard, my dear..."

"You have assistant pastors and heads of church departments, my darling husband. Make them earn their salaries."

"Let's not even go there tonight, dear." Samuel sat back in his chair. Rebecca had of late been complaining that he worked too hard. She was right, of course, but the demands of running a mega church were such that he could barely spare time for himself and his family. He was Head Pastor of Mountain of Deliverance Christian Ministry, a popular Nigerian pentecostal church with headquarters in Onitsha, Anambra State of Eastern Nigeria. His church was growing very fast and already had scores of branches across Nigeria. As the church grew, so did his responsibilities. Rebecca had practically dragged him from Onitsha to the village on this occasion.

"What a beautiful night," Samuel observed now, changing the subject. "It's not often that one sees the moon this full in Onitsha."

Rebecca had frequently argued with Samuel about his busy schedule, and she was glad they weren't going to dwell on the subject tonight. "Ominede and Onitsha are worlds apart," she said. "One still has her innocence about her, while the other is fast becoming a polluted and overpopulated gulag. God's wonderful works of nature are everywhere for His children to appreciate, but the city is a steel and concrete jail of modernity. I will pick the innocence of the countryside any day!"

"A rather poetic way to put it, Rebecca." Samuel smiled. His wife had a way with words. She was a First Class English Language graduate and would certainly have become a professional writer if they both hadn't received and answered the divine call to ministry.

Rebecca stood up. "Let me serve dinner, darling. I think it's a good idea to eat out here under the moonlight."

"That would be splendid. Have the kids eaten?"

"No, they haven't. It would be nice for the whole family to dine together." She gave her husband a meaningful smile. "We are so busy in the city these days we don't get to do that often."