Chapter 5: Empty Pots, Wild Ideas

No farm, no weave, no money—the food for house don almost finish.

My hope dey hang like palm fruit for tall tree. My hand dey shake, my heart dey beat as I dey count last tuber of yam. I look the wooden basin wey dey corner—after this food, nothing go remain. If I knock am, echo go answer me.

Make we just die together, na im remain.

At this point, I resign myself. Wetin remain na to count last breath.

That day, I dey kitchen dey blow fire when wild spirit waka come from I no know where.

E burst enter like thunder, face shine, eyes wide. E dey look like person wey win lottery for dream.

“Reeds… I don get am!”

E shout like market crier. Even fowl for backyard jump fence.

As he shout, my head begin pain me, I quickly shift give am space. I hold my chest, dey pray make e no scatter another thing for kitchen.

After he calm down, I see as he dey burn all the dry reeds wey we dey use for firewood. Na my only firewood e dey use play? I just dey vex but no talk, I dey fear say spirit fit vex back.

I wan talk, but I no fit stop am. Na so I hold my tongue. If I talk, maybe e go pour water for my head join.

After he burn reeds finish, he pour water inside the ash bowl. I dey look am, mouth open. My neighbours for window dey peep.

Na play play he dey do like small pikin for village? I dey wonder if na new ritual or if e just dey use us catch cruise.

After a while, he tear him own cloth—just to filter the water from the ash… Na better wrapper, he tear am without looking back. I just dey reason say, na so cloth dey finish.

When he finish, he rush come meet me with the bowl, happy like say na gold.

He dance small jig, dey shake bowl for my face. “My pikin, see as I go turn this one to treasure for you!”

I fear so tey I run comot for house. Spirit wey dey happy like pikin for sallah rice, I no trust am at all.

Soon, heavy smoke dey come out from kitchen, almost cover the whole thatched house. Smoke thick reach roof, chickens dey cough for backyard. I dey run enter house with water, dey shout make neighbours no call am arson.

I know say wahala dey, I rush go quench fire.

I pour water with all my might, mouth dey pray, "God abeg, make house no burn finish."

When I finish, I see say the water for pot don burn dry. Pot dey red, all the ash don turn to white powder. E resemble sacrifice for new yam festival.

I frown, wan add water, but wild spirit hold my hand.

He grip my hand cold like harmattan breeze. “No try am!”

“This na reed salt—I make am!”

He raise the bowl like trophy, face dey shine with pride.

As he hold my arm, cold just run my body. My whole body just stand still. Na only my teeth dey click small small.