Abeke’s return

We sit under the cashew tree: Abeke and me.

‘So if you die, will you come back?’

‘Yeah.’ Abeke nods with delight.

I kept quiet. The afternoon breeze gently swayed the leaves above our heads.

‘Do you know I’m not your partner?’ She breaks the silence.

‘No you are!’ I snap back.

‘Didn’t I tell you that this is my second time on earth? But don’t worry, when I come back you’ll be my big brother, and you’ll take care of me. It is not like this?

Do not answer. We were just children. But how could he be saying all this with impunity? My heart was troubled when my friend talked about death so easily.

‘When you die, where will you go?’

I asked for. Abeke moved away from me. She stared at the dark floor, running his index finger across it.

I will join my spiritual friends. We usually visit the town stream. Sometimes we even come here and sit on the cashew branches.

A tinge of fear ran down my spine. I stole a look at my mysterious friend out of the corner of my eye.

“Look-” She comments brightly. I looked at her completely. “Look at my spiritual friends; they are here, smiling at us.”

Goodness! I got up and ran home as fast as my tiny legs would carry me. “Abeke could choose to die, but he would not allow his spirit mates to drag me into the unknown.” I thought as he ran away. Abeke begged me to wait, yelling that it was just a joke. Never wait. The devil takes the last.

She died.

Abeke actually died three days after our last argument. The news of his death spread like wildfire throughout the town. Rumor had it that she was Abiku: she was a mysterious girl who could die and return at will.

His funeral rites took a significant turn. The Native Doctor had her little toes mutilated before she was finally buried. She assured that her kindred spirits would reject her because of her stigma. Then she would come back and never come back.

Abeke is back.

The message spread throughout the town. Ten months had passed since Abeke’s death. His mother had taken after and now she gave birth to a child. The villagers who went to see the newborn said that it was Abeke who returned.

I set foot in the hut of the late Abeke’s parents. The lactating mother was pregnant with a boy. I was amazed by the appearance of the baby. “Abeke had been reduced to a week-old child.”

Caught in the doorway, I took a closer look at the revenant. Poor me! The smaller toes of the child’s foot were missing.

I turned and ran.