Together they walked for what felt like hours to Mel; they had never really ventured into the forest with Mama prior. It was not fear that held them tight in the chest and made their bones ache, no; there was no fear when Mama was around. Mel couldn’t figure it out so they brought it to Mama’s attention; “You are sensitive now, more sensitive than you were before today. And you wore death on your face, carried it in you just now in the house. Do you think you can remain the same after such a huge thing? E no possible.” Mel nodded, rubbing their arms as they walked behind Mama. They finally stopped before a tree with a thick trunk; Mama was mumbling only the gods knew what. Mel bowed their head and waited, focusing on dispelling the terror that was growing in their gut. Mama stepped to the left of the tree and pushed the tall bushes to one side, revealing a well-worn footpath that led to only where Mama knew. “Go in,” Mama said to Mel.
Mel stepped in, turned around for Mama but she was gone, “Oh this woman! I am not in the mood for all this right now. Talk to me!” Mama, as if standing right there whispered in Mel’s head, “I dey your back, dey go.” Mel kept walking, keeping track of the different sensations that zapped through their body; headache, a dull throb in their foot, sudden tightness of their chest, lightheaded, teary eyes, it seemed to be never-ending. Notwithstanding, Mel kept walking confidently in Mama’s presence. The sun was fast fading, Mel wasn’t sure what time it was and between two of them, the only timepiece was hanging on the wall in the kitchen. The sound of laughter made the hairs on Mel’s neck to rise, and their stomach lurch from the sickening sweet smell that permeated the air. Mel decided to investigate where the laughter was coming from. “Stay here my pikin, na the ogbanjes you dey hear now. Leave them, they will get their turn. You will get used to the laughter.” “Why can’t I see you, Mama?” She didn’t answer. Mel was only momentarily confused about what next to do because Mama’s voice directing them step by step. They made the markings on the tree as instructed by Mama and when the symbol was complete, it glowed briefly before it disappeared. Mel could feel the unease that had pooled in their heart vanish with the quick glow from the tree. Mama smiled as she watched what was happening; she could feel all that Mel felt, hear all they heard from the base of her tree.
Mel had fallen asleep; the sound of laughter roused them from their slumber—there was no fear as they lay curled up at the base of the mango tree. It was dark out now as Mama urged Mel to summon any spirit nearby, “How will I know who to summon?” “Just cast the spell and trust that who you need will come to you.” Mel nodded, got on their knees and took a deep breath;
“Come to me, come to me, all spirits that have been. Ye who walked and talked before me, I beseech thee. Born of the gods I come. You spirits that roam come. To me, come”
Mel repeated the spell just like they had done that day in the kitchen for the first time. Mama smiled with pride as she heard the spirits gather to answer Mel’s call; the voice of her child was distinct whenever she spoke the language of the gods—Mama never told Mel this after they cast the spell that first time in her kitchen. The child was a natural but Mama expected nothing less of a reincarnate; they had lived so many lives that sometimes memories from past ones confuse their current life. Mama had heard Mel talk about event that she knew had never happened, the places they mentioned had either ceased to exist in that area or never did—to which Mel said it was probably a dream. Sometimes they saw glimpses of lives they would live after, those ones scared Mel because there was no understanding; until the first time they went to the other side after casting this spell, the first time. Mama was shocked by how easy the unknown language slid off Mel’s tongue that day in the kitchen, her spirit companion explaining it to her as it happened. Mama’s heart burst with pride as Mel spoke to her oldest friends like she did for the first time many, many years ago. Sighing, she adjusted her perch at the base of her tree as she remembered the first time she had done her ritual with her mother. They had walked back to their house together but her mother never served the gods for their household after that. Mama sighed.
Mel felt the shift in energy and although they were still in the forest in front of the mango tree that glowed for them, they knew they had moved to the other plane. Mel loved it, the feel of the power, knowing what they were capable of now, had always been capable of and was excited for all they would accomplish as they harnessed their power. The spirits that responded to Mel’s summoning gathered in a circle around them, some smiled, others wore no expressions. Mel knelt and the words of gratitude poured out of their mouth without a single thought for it. When Mel raised their head up, Mama stood before them. Mel smiled, happy to see a familiar face before the reality of what was before them registered. The scream tore through them, set to find its way over their tongue when Mama reached out and hugged them, “This is the way of the gods my pikin; two people wey get this power no fit dey one world. Na so e happen with my mama and me, and I know say dem no go change am for you. No cry my pikin.” Mel couldn’t breathe or stand or talk or feel or think, “Mama please, how am I supposed to live without you now? These people would never accept me in your place.” Mama laughed, and the other spirits did too, one of them stepped forward and gathering Mel to his bosom said, “I remember when Ndidi came to the forest for the first time”, he pointed at Mama, “we had never seen a servant so sure of their work for the gods. She never doubted, but trusted that the gods would not let harm befall her. Have that confidence now dear child, you are even more powerful—do you know?” Mel nodded. “But, I haven’t learned enough from her, she has so much to teach me.” The spirits laughed again, “who taught you the language you speak now?” Mel cocked their head, “language?” Mama looked at Mel with so much love, “You speak the language of the gods my dear, even better than I ever could. I knew death would visit today, I wish we had left earlier so we would have had some time before my departure but…you know what happened”, Mel nodded. “So, this is how it must be. You are the reincarnate, Egu of their time; and I am glad that it is you who I handed over to. I am on this side with your parents; we will always look after you.” Mama turned Mel around and standing there were Emeka, Fejiro and Mel’s parents. A boy about the same age as Emeka stood to one side and Mel recognised him immediately. “You, and him”, they pointed to Emeka, “We were…I was you, you are me. We are one…what is your name?”
“Orhomarhe—the one who was and will always be.”
Candid. Real. Me. 