Earth was an abode, a place for humans to inhabit for an assigned number of days in their lives, living to their fullest, then one day, there would be death. What is life without living a life that is not restricted with barriers? Earth has many restrictions, barriers, ranging from religion, societal pressures, and living to please familial people in our lives.
We were three in a group, but we were not closely related. We had grown to become friends. We went by names, Tochukwu, Kosiso, and Temitope. Tochukwu was slight, tall, and dark-skinned. Kosiso was short, light-skinned, and chubby. Temitope was in between. He was tall but light-skinned, unlike us, he was neither skinny nor chubby but he had soft meandering skin.
We were three and came from three different backgrounds, trying to navigate through the deep hole of life. We had many things in common and other things outlined us as different from each other, trespassing through the murky water of life. One of our similitudes was the exact place of worship and similar thoughts on the race about heaven: the afterlife. When one died, they ascended into heaven, away from the horrid platter of life but made to stand in front of God’s throne, awaiting judgement. According to different churches, their different teachings were contrasting on what the afterlife meant.
On a Sunday of July 2010, as we walked down the street after the church service had ended, a noise came from a distance. It was the noise of a preacher, almost razing down their church building and another croaky voice translating in the local language which was louder. They preached about the afterlife. He said that when someone died, they dwelt in a particular abode, where they waited for the end time before the judgement took place. There were biblical interpretations of various verses of the Bible, so his preachings were not surprising.
It had been several years since this happened, but today, Kosiso died days ago. After he died, we became two. His death was mysterious, but we thought Kosiso’s death would bring us closer to what the afterlife meant. Because Afterlife is this fickle place in our mind. A place we will never understand. Yesterday, Temitope told Tochukwu that he had seen Kosiso’s spirit in the backyard when he went to urinate in the evening.
“How? That’s not what we were taught. When someone died, their spirits returned to heaven for judgement,” Tochukwu stopped, gulping down saliva.
“So, I don’t think his spirit will ever try to disturb or invade earth.”
“But you know our friend’s death is a mysterious one? The day the woman cursed us and said we will die one by one. And it had been three months since Kosiso died.”
“What’s the correlation?”
“It means there are supernatural powers hovering on earth.”
“Okay?”
“The pastor was right. Dead people dwelt in an abode, where they stayed till the day of judgment. In that abode, they wandered earth being a scourge.”
For Temitope, the afterlife was something that would happen. He made peace with the Pastor’s preaching. When he died, he would become invisible, wandering the earth with no human problems to worry about. Here, every day, we thought about food to fill our aching belly. It was why we stumbled into the old woman’s farm to steal her crops. Death was flat to him; it had become inevitable. Somehow, we were not scared of death.
The evening he saw Kosiso, he had been urinating at the back of the house. The leaves fluttered, the wind meandered his skin. He stopped, trying to draw up his zipper, then he noticed a movement at an end. At first, he saw darting eyes, watching him, through the bark of the mango tree. After a moment, the owner walked out from the tree. It was Kosiso. He froze. He expected him to walk up to him, then his mind drifted off, thinking if Kosiso had actually died. But the spirit wandered, moving out of sight, many distance away to oblivion. Kosiso’s spirit seemed unbothered. His flesh was gone and it was enclosed in a whitish plume of smoke. His eyes were the clear outlined features.
For Tochukwu, he did not want to die. Death was the worst thing to happen to humankind. He had never seen a ghost, but he had been doubting his faith on what the afterlife meant. He did not want to believe in the supernatural but when he thought he might later believe there were forces on earth, it would be when Temitope died. Every afternoon, he walked to the exact location where Temitope had seen Kosiso’s spirit. It had been a week, but he had not noticed any movement except insects hopping on the grasses. On the tree, was a strange bird, its eyes fixed at him, never unlooking. Whenever the bird saw Tochukwu, it flapped its wings. As usual, Tochukwu ignored it, but that day, he watched it keenly. He thought it would turn into Kosiso and did not stop staring, till his eyes were tired. They were hurting, then slowly blurred and he began seeing a series of contrasting colours.
Days came and slowly strolled by in a twinkle. In the afternoon, Temitope had gone to the farm to get some crops for dinner. Tochukwu sat on the bed, in front, was a soaked plate of garri lying on the plate. It’s a wooly bed. The bed had not rested on a wooden frame but rather laid flat on the ground. Occasionally, he dipped his spoon into the plate. He had scooped the groundnut that clogged in the garri, soaked into water. When Temitope returned from the farm, he would complain about why he had finished the groundnut. But if he finds food on his journey, he will still complain; getting food has not been easy. He knew how he made the groundnut available the past two days and told Tochukwu not to exhaust it.
Tochukwu had tired out, his back leaned against the wall, air sauntered into the house through the little opening from the window. He tried to lift the spoon again but stopped on hearing a slithering movement on the wall. The room calmed. His gaze darted at a wall gecko, its head occasionally bobbed up and down. When it saw him, it scurried into the little opening.
He stood up, paced around the room, and walked close to the wooden window. He lifted the glass pane and it opened, a rush of windy waves blew into the house. For a moment, his body shriveled, then he stopped and sighed. The darkening covering from the roaring night was approaching, surprisingly a hen staggered into its pen, crowed, and its wings fluttered.
Temitope had not returned. As time went by, darkness slowly crept in, silence settled before a metal gong struck from a far distance. The gong struck whenever there was an announcement or to remind people that it was night, so little children would scurry to their places to avoid kidnappers. The gong struck countless times before it stopped. The man began with the announcement. He had walked closer to the house and Tochukwu could hear his voice as he continued talking, some of his words came as ramblings.
Tochukwu walked out of the house, his hand akimbo, his gaze straight, unmoving, looking at the man, watching the little children as they told each other to go home. He continued watching for about a minute. In sight, the little children dispersed and the man had walked to a far distance, his voice muffled, then calmed.
Temitope had not returned. He slept alone in the house, eyes slightly opened, waiting for the hour when there would be a knock on the door. The hour never came. Night persisted, till the cock crowed again and it was morning. When morning arrived, it was foggy, he sat on the verandah, watching, waiting for him to return. Then, the scorching sun began to make it out of its hiding: the afternoon was approaching. The environment had lost its fogginess, leaving it to glittering rays. The little children ran around the streets, rolling condemned tyres.
Temitope had not returned. He walked into the house, a few minutes later, he walked out, bolted the door. The key dangled in his hand and he dropped it into his trouser’s pocket. He strolled through the tiny path. On his way, he saw men, women, and children returning from the farm.
“Have you seen Temitope? Have you seen Temitope?” he continued asking.
The closest answer was from a short rotund man that gave him an exact description of Temitope. But he was not aware of his whereabouts. For him, Temitope was gone, but he did not know if he died like Kosiso or he had seen a helper, then absconded without returning to him. He had walked a far distance and stopped at an abandoned lake. He turned, glanced at another distance ahead covered by the savannah vegetation. He did not notice the presence of a human. Where he stood, had been deserted; silent. The colour of the lake was sparkly clean. He bent, stretched out his hands, and scooped water into his palm. For a moment, he thought it would have a distinct taste but it was tasteless like all the water he had drunk before.
The water was soothing, his throat calmed and his eyes watered. He heard a series of movements and turned. At a distance, a few kilometers, he noticed a flickering glare, watching closely. His throat had soothed, the leaves fluttered. They were two; Kosiso and Temitope. He moved his fingers into his eyes, smothering them vigorously. When he finished, he blinked. They remained the same: Kosiso and Temitope. Soon, they dissolved out of his sight.
His spirit and soul calmed, then he thought if that was what the afterlife meant? When you die, your spirit wanders away, moving to where one did not know. Temitope was right. But was Temitope dead? He dissolved, dissipating in a flicker, like a spirit. Their spirits looked happy. They did not look hungry like one yearning to taste food. Here, his stomach rumbled, his bones had weakened. His body was frail and he was in an unknown land where he was not sure of how he would return to his abode. He noticed a tall tree, the idea came to him and he halted. On persuasion with his mind, he began climbing the tree. He stopped at the peak, stared down, the lake looked little, same as other things. He heaved. Then, he jumped from the tree and on landing, he felt a sharp piercing pain as his body tumbled to the ground. For a moment, the pain stopped, then his breath stalled.
***
Here was different; the earth was void. It had no existence of other celestial and terrestrial bodies except humans. Tochukwu thought the afterlife would be a perfect place to reside. A place he would move freely, strutting into a huge building and walking into beautiful cars. A place he would see a table designed with plates of food, with no owners while he ate the food to satisfaction. A place he would eat varieties he had never tasted before. But as he floated in the air, disobeying gravity and in cognizance of earth’s emptiness, he felt different. Earth was slowly moving in a circular motion.
He walked past humans but he knew they were not seeing him. He had lost senses of what made him human except wandering like he always did. Although in the spirit world, there was no stopping. Up above the ground, he felt no pain. He thought about how we fantasized about places we never went but thought they were better than where we were currently.
It had been several days, yet it did not look like there would be a judgment day. Spirits hovered all around him. He had lost his sense of feelings and emotions. It felt like death was meaningless and life should be lived to its fullest. He was naked: uncovered as he moved from one place to another.
Yesterday, he came across Temitope in the spirit world. He had not changed. He looked like he was the last time he saw him. They strolled past each other. The silence was deafening. There was no form of interaction between the other spirits. He hated it. And the alternative world had no binary of sorts, so he felt fulfilled.
Mayor With A Difference 