Don't Tell Daddy What Happened in Ngwo.

Life is full of events. These events propel actions, and every action has consequences. Exploring births new things but can also lead to the unknown. Sometimes, these unknowns impair us, and we become victims in our own lives. As you dare to try new things, always remember that the world will go on with or without you, regardless. It's never fair.

Nweze Chime Nweze was his full name, a student of Philosophy at the Federal University, Nsukka. He had always longed for an opportunity to leave home. Ever since he gained admission to study philosophy in Nsukka, he disliked visiting home. He was that friend who tagged along with other boys to their various homes when school was on break. He never liked to talk about his family. Nweze came from a large polygamous family, and his mum, NwaUgo, is no longer with us. That’s how people say it when they don’t want to state the obvious. He wasn’t close to his father, Ogbodo-Ngwu, because he despised the traditional practices of his family. His family were the ancestral custodians and bearers of his hometown’s “Igbe Mma.” The “Igbe Mma” is a native name that loosely translates to the traditional sacred box of the town. Beyond that, his great-grandfather, Nwaobodo-Ngwu, was the chief priest of Udene-ejeOgu, a ruthless deity in his hometown that the community forcefully stopped appeasing due to its complex traditional proceedings. They also performed a traditional closure ritual at the altar of the late Obodo-Ngwu to prevent it from reappearing to haunt the community. Most elderly men who were initiated into the traditional cult of Udene-ejeOgu, even when converted to the Christian faith, refused to confess the oaths and secrets of the deity. The whole feeling of sleeping under the same roof with the community’s traditional sacred box nauseated Nweze, and for this reason, he longed to leave home at all costs.

Nweze had a sociable personality. He was the kind of friend who puts a smile on everyone's face during sober moments. He had a natural acquaintance with Mother Nature, and he was an adventurer. For this reason, he made friends in school with fellow adrenaline junkies. His friends were Ade Onunuga, who was called Kolarpo, from Ilorin, Kwara State; Chukwumerije from Abia State; Oma, an Igala girl from Kogi; and then Ije from Idemili-North, Anambra State. Kolapo had a Nikon camera, and whenever they went to visit Mother Nature, they created lots of pictures for social media flexing. As their friendship grew stronger, they got to know about Ngwo and realized that Nweze was from Ngwo. They insisted they must visit the Ngwo ancient kingdom.

Ngwo was an old clan in Enugu State that was very instrumental in what Enugu State is today. It ranged from being the birthplace of the city of Enugu to having the biggest coal deposit in sub-Saharan Africa, and then to being one of nature's gifts to the nation. The town hosts the breathtaking Milliken Hill, the Ngwo Pine Forest/Waterfall, the Ngwo Balcony of Sights, the Ngwo Grand Canyon, the Etiti Range of Hills, and a good number of coal mines. The town holds the purest geographical basin in Africa; some people call it the Canaan of Africa. Oma and Kolarpo were astonished why Nweze never talked about his hometown and its beauties despite having loads of interest in adventures.

They saw Nweze as fortunate to have come from such a prestigious town, but Nweze didn't see it in the same light. He still despised associating himself with that town on a hill. He always said jokingly that the amount of good in the place is the same as the evil. The whole burden of walking in the footsteps of his ancestors was too much of a weight for him. This wasn’t the way he planned his life to be. He was more of a glamour boy than a custodian, but life has its ways.

His friends persuaded him until he gave in. They would visit Ngwo and stay in Nweze’s family house for two days. They were all excited when he accepted their request. On Friday, May 28th, 2004, Oma, Chukwumerije, Kolarpo, Ije, and Nweze boarded a bus from Nsukka to Ngwo at 4 p.m. and arrived in Ngwo by 7 p.m. West African Time. They had small backpacks that they took for the trip. Nweze had already led his kid brother to set up the place where they would stay for the two nights. They arrived at that small town, and to the shock of his friends, it wasn’t a village but a suburban town with lots of hills and valleys. This was their perfect kind of location. It was green, serene, and perfect for all manner of pictorial footage. This place reminded Kolarpo of his mother's place in Ibadan. The girls tried to tease Nweze about his home and how goats were roaming about the compound, littering it with their feces. He laughed and brushed it off. Udo had prepared their late grandpa’s bungalow for Nweze and his guests. The guests were expected to sleep in the sitting room because it was more spacious.

Nweze had a brief talk with his kid brother. He got to know about his injured father and went to see him in his room. Ogbodo-Ngwu had sprained his leg when he was digging a water collection pit to control erosion at the back of their house. Nweze went to see his father after close to two years since he left for Nsukka. They had a very short conversation, and not long after, Nweze stepped out with a long face.

Nweze’s family were custodians of a stopped deity in Ngwo, a typical house of traditional custodians and chief priests. At the back of their house stood an “Ogirishi tree,” the ancestral shrine of Udene-ejeOgu that no longer visits the town square. Their compound was also the traditional resting abode of the community's sacred box. After every masquerade outing in the village square, at night, the “Mgboloko boys” return the sacred box to the family of Chime Nwa-Obodo Ngwu aro. This return proceeding is the most significant ritual of the traditional proceedings of the House of Ngwu, the ancestral custodians of the Maa faculty in Ngwo. For this reason, Nweze knew that there was a lot to be kept and preserved as an offspring of this lineage, so he decided to distance himself from his family.

The group of friends had already settled in his late grandfather’s bungalow. It was an old bungalow that was built partly with clay and partly with cemented blocks. It was a clay house supported with concrete pillars. That night, there was no light. They ate suya and drank soft drinks, discussed for the rest of the night, and then fell asleep. Chukwumerije was the last to sleep. He had trouble sleeping; he was experiencing strong insomnia. As he sat there on his sofa, he lit his phone’s flashlight and started indulging his eyes throughout the sitting room. He first noticed an old framed binary picture of the late Chime Nwa Obodo Ngwu. One was of him and his three wives, and a few pictures of so many late people in one group photograph. There was a frame at the extreme end of the wall, partially spoiled by water. It was a group family picture of eight, and someone had marked all seven persons in the frame with ‘RIP’ using a marker, excluding Nwa-Obodo Ngwu. It looked weird to Chukwumerije, even though he knew nothing about the images.

There was also a 1996 Coal Corporation calendar on the wall with four dried feathers stuck to it. Chukwumerije was filled with anxiety over what his eyes were beholding, but the dots were not connecting yet; his imagination was failing him. On the other side of the cemented pillar was a suspended surface that hung a large picture of Nwa Obodo-Ngwu in his shrine. On the wooden-framed picture on the surface hung dried palm fronds. Chukwumerije’s anxiety grew stronger, but his curiosity wouldn’t let him stop imagining things. He came closer to the picture and stared at it with so much desperation. Then he heard a sound on the roof of the house, like the footsteps of an animal. Immediately, he looked up out of fear. The sound stopped, and he returned his gaze to the picture in front of him. He realized that the dried palm frond had fallen on the floor. He picked the frond and placed it back on top of the frame. Immediately, he stepped back, sneaked back to where the rest of his friends were, laid down on his bed, covered himself with a wrapper, and fell asleep.

The next morning, the group of friends got ready for the hike, picked everything they needed, and descended into the valley. They hoped to catch the rising sun and get a clearer shot of the valley before the fog set in. They hiked down the valley and up the hilltop, taking photographs as return tickets. They left the walls of Ngwo cave with carvings of their names on it. Oma boldly wrote, “The Adrenaline Junkies were here,” and inscribed their six names on the walls of the cave. It was quite an adventurous hike. They got to visit the pine forest, waterfall, Ngwo caves, and balcony of sights. They returned to Nweze’s house in the evening, very tired, with a camera

full of memories. They freshened up, ate, and rested for the rest of the evening. Chukwumerije had initially told Kolarpo what he noticed last night in the house during the hike, and they both agreed to check it out when they got back. That night, when everyone else had slept, Chukwumerije tapped Kolarpo, and they stood and went toward the photograph on the wall. When they got closer, Chukwumerije noticed that the dried palm frond on the picture frame had fallen again. He picked it up and hung it back on the frame. Kolarpo drew the curtain by his left and noticed a wooden door behind the curtain. They exchanged a glance, and Kolarpo stepped back, collected his camera, and returned. They forced the coffee-brown door open and gently walked into the dark room. Chukwumerije lit his torch to illuminate the room. To their greatest surprise, there stood the kind of things they wished to see. The room was filled with collections of small sculptures and earthen pots. There was an old wooden box at the center of the room with dried palm fronds tied around its body, and a projected mirror covered by a black piece of cloth on the left side of the dark room.

Kolarpo took pictures of the objects placed at different spots. The wooden box was locked, and they didn’t venture into forcing it open. As they got closer to the covered mirror, Chukwumerije realized that the mirror had 10 stones arranged in a circumference around it. The mirror was placed like a diameter across the circle, and a white chalk marking stretched out like a radius intercepting the circumference.

Chukwumerije pulled Kolarpo to see his findings, and they both thought of the mathematical theory that was being established at the spot. Chukwumerije moved two of the stones aside, and they stepped into the circumference to access the ‘enyo’ mirror. Kolarpo took a shot of the covered mirror and then dragged the piece of cloth down to take a clearer shot of the mirror. As he took the shot, instantly the mirror illuminated the room with the reflection of the camera flash, and it felt like daylight at Salar de Uyuni. It seemed obvious that they had pulled unexpected attention that could attract people. They quickly moved out and returned to the sitting room. They left the dark room, altering the formation of the circumference, and the coffee-brown door jammed its frame and bounced back behind the facade of the curtain. The narrator said, and I quote, "It seems these millennials have altered that which must remain caged." What could this be?

The next morning, Chukwumerije was nowhere to be found. They were reluctant about his whereabouts, as everyone felt he had stepped out to buy something. Later, he was seen in the backyard where he collapsed beside the root of the ‘Ogirishi’ tree. Everyone was shocked on seeing that, but as God would have it, he was resuscitated without much panic. There was no need to take him to the hospital because he returned fully to normalcy. They just bought Lucozade Boost for him to regain his energy. Kolarpo was frightened, but he kept his cool and reserved everything he wanted to say for a private discussion with Chukwumerije when they got back to Nsukka. Their action last night would remain a secret between him and his pal.
Around 11:00 a.m. that Sunday, they left Ngwo for Nsukka. Nweze C. Nweze didn’t go back with his friends; he would be staying back in Ngwo for one more week for the sake of his father. When his friends left, Udo called his brother Nweze and told him what he noticed that morning: how he found Nwa Obodo-Ngwu’s sacred room open, which was unusual, the alteration of the 10 ‘iyi’ stone formation at the foot of the ‘enyo,’ and the removal of the cloth used to blind the “enyo.” They couldn’t connect the event of Chukwumerije fainting and the sacred room. Udo looked at Nweze suspiciously, and they both sealed their lips; this silence gave birth to a new secret. Despite their silence, Nweze’s conscience always reminded him about the incident, but he kept his side of the deal and often brushed it off.

After many years, stories had it that Kolarpo developed a sore and decaying foot that kept him away from school for so long he almost got amputated. Meanwhile, Chukwumerije developed serious mental instability. Eventually, the two never got to graduate with their set in school. Kolarpo went back to Ibadan, while Chukwumerije still wanders around the university campus with a new name: they call him Bookish. He is said to be mentally incapacitated, and most students referenced his instability to excessive book study. The last stable words Chukwumerije uttered on their way back to Nsukka were, “Don’t tell Daddy what happened in Ngwo.”

what about Ije and Oma; that would be story for another day.

Exploring is a beautiful thing, like I said initially, but for some unveiling, there might be consequences. This is part of what makes life a parcel of uncertainties. In our everyday actions, there is a lot that meets the eye. Some places are best left undisturbed, and we should tread with caution. Remember, "You are free to choose, but you are not free to change the consequences."