The stench of filth from the vile act spread like wild fire, feeding our nostrils with a nauseating breathe. Dede and I watched keenly but rather with trepidation from where we hid.
A man came out from the hut; tall, dark and huge, having a finely carved biceps that clearly spelt out his masculinity. “who is that man” I asked Dede. “that is Ikemba, the mouth piece of the oracle, most dreaded in the village of Ohia.” he had only a white piece of wrapper on his waist and his chest was bare. One could tell from his DEFT movements that Ikemba has survived many years of fierce battles.
As Dede was yet speaking, a young boy also came out of the Hut. “that is iku the servant to Ikemba. ” Dede added. Iku held a small pot which was covered at the top with a red piece of cloth, designed at the bottom with white dots. On the top of the pot, was also a bunch of black and white feathers TUFTED at the base with a blue rope.
Ikemba got to the spot where the ladies knelt in a circle, chanting in a piercing FALSETTO, found his way to the middle and lifted up the staff he held on his right hand.
“that must be SCHLOCK gold.” I said. Pointing at the shiny piece of object Ikemba held on his left hand. “no” Dede interrupted. “ it is pure gold. It is called the star of ‘eru’ god of strength. Those ladies you see, are virgins; a holy sacrifice to the gods.”
My heart sank after listening to what Dede just said. So there are NIGERIANS who still practice this wicked tradition. I thought quietly to myself. “eru…eru” Ikemba chanted.And there was lightning and thunder, striking both Ikemba and Iku to the ground.