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Amazing Tale Of How I Escaped Death Trap By Rulers Of Darkness

It was on my way home from my regular weekend shopping on a particular fine sunny afternoon that I met a senile poor beggar that was blind at Apapa road bus-stop. So sad was his plight that I felt great pity for him as he sprawled on the dirty ground and begged for alms.

I didn't have any coin left in my pocket at the moment, but I was really moved with deep pity and touched by the message of his sorrowful take, hence I felt great urge to give him something since his livelihood depended on it.

I then dipped my hand into my pocket and brought out a thousand naira and gently out it in a bowl beside him, a cold drop of tear rolled down my cheek in an emotional affection and compassion as I watched this sightless old man being scorched in the blazing sun.

As I was walking away, I heard the man's feeble voice calling, "youngman, youngman" I turned round in astonishment wondering how he knew I was a young man and why he called me back.

"Yes" I answered "is it me you're calling sir". The poor old man nodded to emphasize " yes" and I moved closer to him and bent low to be able to hear what he would say. He held my left palm and began to rub his scrwany little fingers against it. He coughed for a short while and heaved a sigh. He lifted up his face and started staring into my eyes as if he could see through them.

"Youngman" he said at last, "beware and steer clear clear from traveling or embarking on any long distant journey. The world wish you evil when you wish them no harm. They long to see you perish; they thirst to drink your blood; they wish death for you and famish to feast upon your flesh!"

I was taken aback and tremendously mystified by his words, "steer clear of the road to your home town for at least a period of two years" he cautioned further, " there are enemies within your clan that envy your high position and have plotted to see your end".

At the end of this prophecy, I became visibly shaken and frightened, and my legs seemed to have transfixed in the ground. I walked away in deep contemplation without saying a word of appreciation to the man who has revealed this serious phenomenon to me.

There were many pestering thoughts running in my mind. I got a few steps forward and turned to say thank you to the old man, but to my surprise he was not in sight.

I looked bewildered for a minute, because I was sure if the old man had stood up and walked away; he would probably still be seen within the vicinity. So I deduced he must have been a ghost and had vanished into thin air.

I went home much debilitated that evening after I might have told the story to Jonathan Alfred my intimate friend and colleague in the editorial suite of Remaloaded Communications, where I work as a senior staff writer. Jonathan had dismissed the story as a mere superstition.

I continued to ruminate and brood over the inexplicability of this shocking warning. I just couldn’t imagine who amongst members of my clan back home, could wish me such calamity.

They have always cherished, admired and esteemed me for my achievements. They have always seemed loving and tolerant and I have always done my best to please every one of them especially my three step-mothers and their children.

“Why would they want to hurt me now, out of envy and sheer foolishness?” I asked myself again and again as I meditated in pensive mood in my exquisitely furnished living room, and feeling veritably dejected.

I did not attain the splendor and comfort I was now enjoying by swindling on some else, but my own hard work and every vestige drop of sweat.

My mother was very hardworking and honest and she inculcated the same to her children, in fact all of her children. Before my old man answered the final home call, our large family used to be a model, epitome of what a peaceful polygamous family ought to be. 

We knew nothing else than calmness and serenity of a happy home punctuated and affection and care of selfless parents who meant the whole word to themselves, and surrounded by the warmth and exuberance of lively children.

I almost doubted and dismissed the old man’s warning, but his voice continued to re-vibrate inside my ears, and I had no choice than to heed to it, because according to Hilda, my girlfriend, ‘the voice of the common man of goodwill, is the voice of the gods’. So I decided to stay off the road to my home town for a period of two years as the old man had advised.

On the third year I decided to travel home after such a long absence. I left Lagos very early in the morning in my brand new SUV and arrived Ogwashi-Uku at sunset.

The ovation that heralded my arrival in my village was tremendous and splendid. Children nestled upon me and shrilled and frenzied ecstasy and men together with the women danced and sang in exultation. The whole atmosphere was very blissful and there was no way I could suspect or notice people pointing virulent fingers at me.

However, my troubles started late at night when I was lost in a peaceful slumber. I dreamt where I was being kidnapped and led away in a great fury by two huge men on a desolated path in the wilderness. I couldn’t see their faces because they were eclipsed by very thick darkness and their skins were was black as ebony. 

They took me deeper and farther into the forest and at last, we arrived at a very spooky place in the woods where decomposed human bodies, skeletons were lavishly used to fence the strange shrine. Man! What my eyes saw inside this shrine virtually made me jump out of my skin.

There were senescent men and women with different heads of vultures and lions, their skins were scrawny, their nails were blood stained all over and curved like pitch-forks. I screamed and struggled in fear, but it was all in vain.

One of the vulture-headed witches blew a whitish powdery substance into my eyes and I became drowsy. Then I was tied to a frame work of decomposed limb-bone on a wall, after which I was made to drink from smoke-stained earthen pot that contained a very bitter black liquid. Then I heard them laughing hysterically in jubilation.

The whole atmosphere was spooky and misty. The witches and wizards then began to troop out of the shrine and I was left in solitude with my awful plight. Suddenly, a very ugly beast …. I mean a monster whose species could not immediately ascertain….alighted from the door opposite me and advanced menacingly towards me breathing fire from its nostrils. 

It had two heads, one of a man and the other of an owl…. I mean a gigantic owl! It had the body of a reptile and its legs were that of a bulldog.

I gave out another thunderous scream, but it merely reverberated to me. My heart throbbing greatly and my vision became blurred. The little fire in the middle of the shrine rose high and tall in my vision, and I was veritably scared. The monster then lifted the iron sword in its hand and was about to let the pack fall on me when I cried “Jesus, save my soul” then there was complete darkness and absolute silence. 

The next thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Akaeze, the village didia (or native doctor) telling my mother and other sympathetic neighbors how I almost got killed in my sleep. He told me how I escaped from the hand of the great rulers of the mystified darkness, and how they had earmarked me to die through motor accident if I had come home in the last two years.

My mind then raced in a retrospective reverie to my encounter with the mysterious old blind beggar at Apapa road, bus stop two years ago.

My mother a worried heart placed her tender hand on my forehead and asked the didia if I was ever going to be right again. The feeble old man assured her that he would do his best to save my lie which according to him, “is now in peril”. He gave me some liquid charms to drink and immediately I felt nauseating and vomited some sticky substance and a lump of something that looked like a crocodile skin.

“It is now allover “said the old man. “Your son is now fully resuscitated to life”. My mother was over joyous and rained praises on him.

 I stood up from the bed two hours later and went straight into the bathroom and had my bath. My body which was badly lacerated with finger nails bled a great deal and I found it almost impossible to wash up properly. 

That same day, without saying a word to anybody especially to the other three wives of my father, who had all feigned ignorance of what had happened, I took my mother and my younger brothers and sisters into my car and safely brought them to Lagos, where they all now reside with me in my apartment.

I have indeed had enough of man’s cruelty to man. That obnoxious terrible nightmare could have cost my wife if not for the fact that sweet Jesus rescued me.

Ever since my mystifying adventure with the powerful rulers of the great darkness, I have sworn never to step my foot on my home town again in my entire life, and I have made it a habit to make sure I give alms to beggars whenever I see one because of the favour done to me by the old blind beggar who save me from perishing from such a tragic death.

So now up to the readers, what do have to say or what have you learnt from the story?

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