Demonic Trackers of The Third Kind!

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We were not expecting any visitor from Umor, my hometown, because I didn’t remember inviting anybody over. The shock that struck me when at about 8pm that fateful night , my mobile phone rang. Someone at the other end told me my mentally disturbed sister was in the city, and that I should come and pick her up. Instantly, my countenance changed and I did not know whether to get angry or shout at the caller. How could they have allowed a mentally sick person to enter their vehicle and transported her more than seven hundred kilometres without a helper by her side? Who could have done this evil? Something inside of me, told me my mother was not aware of her coming. I refused to go because I knew the trouble her presences would bring to my family. It was only the pleading of my dear wife, Shirley that prompted me to drive across town that night to pick up my sister. Blood really is thicker than water!

The three months I tolerated my sister’s presence was like a nightmare! Every day, she would stand by the soak away slab and straight her hands towards the rising sun and move her hands in a snake like motion. Little did we realize that she was invoking evil spirits to my home? In her mental state, the real she did not know the damage her actions were going to have on my family life in years to come. Since the house was a work in progress, we all had to cram into the temporary living room until the funds came to fix other rooms. When the pressure for money became too much for me, I decided to half the plot and sell it. After settling the more than three hundred thousand naira debt incurred during construction of the apartment, I unwisely invested in twelve motorcycle taxis. Rationalizing that the monthly income from these taxis will within six months recover the capital; I didn’t calculate the risk factor of dealing with poorly educated Northerners, who were the main beneficiaries of this investment. By the end of 2004, some beneficiaries ran away with the motorcycle taxis, while I found myself behind police counters a couple of times on issues relating to these motorcycles. After suffering these losses, the investment had to be written off! It was at the point of this loss that my mentally sick sister showed up uninvited and brought a new lease of problems to my life. Haba!

Kebe, was my mother’s first born, she trained as a nurse and had worked mostly in the Southern part of Nigeria. Continue reading

 

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