***This has the purview of, but is not limited to, familiar spirits, karishikas, mammy and pappy waters, (with other loyal subjects of the marine kingdom), annoying neighbours, oga’s wife/husband, mother-in-laws, haters, frenemies, stalkers and famzers, gold-digging boyfriends/girlfriends, as well as the sour-faced old man/woman who lives at the end of your street. (Yes, that one.)
***This does not, however, include those blood sucking demons in the form of shady politicians, police who mount illegal road blocks, endtime test/exam questions from endtime lecturers, as well as touts and other good for nothing layabouts who follow you around at computer village, Ikeja. (Buyer beware.)
“…Go forth! For ours is with the spirit of courage, and not fear. Step with sure foot, strike with firm and steady hand, and put your enemies to shame, ONCE AND FOR ALL..!”
Those were the words of advice that echoed in my head as I viciously stomped upon, and murdered a cockroach in cold blood.
(Or cold lymph… beetle juice… pap… Well, whatever it is cockroaches bleed.)
Do not be alarmed. For, verily, I say unto you: It has been revealed to me that this is but one of the ways by which the witches from the village come.
A good retelling of a witch encounter is never complete without some bed-ridden man with bandages all over his body, as he tries to re-enact “the story of my life”. As for the story, it normally has stages.
The first scene usually opens up somewhere in the village; inside a forest with dense bush, with about four or five old women seated around in a circle, dressed in black (…or red, depending on whatever’s sexy that year).
The calabash there in their middle goes without saying (the witches get thirsty sometimes), and the pot of boiling water without a fire underneath it, is their pièce de résistance, because with proper network configuration, Access Point (finger)Nail, and Demon Name Server, they are able to view you and everything you’re about, WHEREVER you are in the world; in crystal-clear, OLED screen-like, Ultra-High Definition; via Miracast with Wireless Fidelity.
(a/b/g or n ***amebo, bigmouth, gbegborun and nosy-parker, respectively***)
Okay, well, that’s for the “tush” witches who can afford the upgrade. Most others just prefer to stick to the conventional, “blow powder in the air, then call out your name slowly three times” data bundle package.
Now, the manner of the winches’ surveillance depends on the urgency with which they want to hex you. (***No, people, “winch” wasn’t a typo. It’s Naijaspeak. Get with the program***). Devoid of any pressure of constraints in time, the winches are supremely content to merely watch you, day and night; waiting for you to stumble, so that when you fail, they can begin to snigger up their sleeves as they drink palm wine and dance shoki.
But immediately they see that your “star is about to shine”, you may soon find yourself sleep-eating a variety of unsolicited delicacies, or perhaps having immensely gratifying romps with some lithe figure or other.
In the cases of utmost urgency, the witches pull a classic “willie willie”. This is where you may find yourself transported from your warm, cosy, drummer-boy air-freshened bedroom, past an eerie winding path and a turning gate, straight into the midst of a dark coven; lying atop a bed, hands on your chest and unable to move, with a sour-faced bunch of dagger-wielding hommies lurking about, all of them with no chill button, spoiled for blood.
Or you may find yourself in a place that looks very much like that picture “auntie” drew for you on the board, once upon a time, during religion class in primary three; to give you and your terrified friends an idea of what hell-fire looks like. The only difference here is that the demons are wearing snapbacks, and poking the condemned souls with selfie-sticks, while forcing them to dance to Sean Paul’s “We be burning”, which would be playing somewhere in the background.
Calm down, people. Hold it with the sprinkling, casting, binding, and laminating, and don’t send down thunder just yet. You must have had some form of witchie-allegiance with them before they can successfully pull off a stunt like that.
I’m not talking about the “Vesmatos insindia” softie kind of voodoo sh*t you see on Vampire Diaries, no.
I’m talking about your, “magical protection/bulletproof to run for a political office”, sort of parole… or the good old, “sold my soul to the devil for a shot of fame, fortune and chics” kind of set up; also known as Yahoo plus.
But then, if you’ve been having the supernatural 5-course buffet, full-optioned, all expense paid (for now) bed-and-breakfast with no prior allegiance, and have so far successfully been able to dodge their advances, I salute you. It means you are a badt guy/girl.
Chineke di involved.
But do not take a break, because the winches do not rest; and their oga at the top is like a rolling lion looking for a someone to collide with.
The witches will begin to employ diverse tactics, such as causing PHCN to take off the light when you wake up at 11:30 pm on a Sunday night to do an assignment that has to be submitted the next day, or by making your rice to burn on the stove where you forgot it to go and watch Superstory.
Also, I advise that if you see a phone call flashing on your screen with a number ending in 0001666, do not pick it, or else you will disappear! The fact that no one has seen anyone it has happened to directly, confirms the truth of this news.
Therefore, there is also no need for you to wonder how it is that the story gets around, seeing that any possible witnesses are the very ones who keep disappearing. Absolutely no need.
So then, having failed to remotely deactivate your success from a secure location, or to metaphysically bring the mountain (you) to Mohammed; the witches shall, as a last resort, adopt various shapes, forms and sizes to bring the battle direct to you.
This should conveniently explain the scenario of that friend whom you owe money running into you when you’re at the dasukih, sorry, when you’re at the ATM; withdrawing your last 1000 naira which you intend to use to survive until the weekend… Or that second cousin from out of town who just happens to stop by your place on the exact same day as when you finally convinced the lady you’ve been wooing for marriage for the past five months to come for a short visit.
In the same vein, the witches may manifest as cockroaches, snails, bats, cats, rats, or any of the entities mentioned in the notice above. It is said that whenever you crush their disguised physical forms, they begin to complain to the people around them (wherever they are on their own side of the world) of being burnt by fire. This is the scene where everyone then begins to clap and sing praises, as the winch confesses that she is the one who sent the rats that ate your WAEC certificate.
Witches. They’re everywhere!