The Plight Of An Ogbanje Children (Witch Children)
I saw her again today, she looked nice and happier. She was vibrant and now entertained a healthy frame.The smile on her face when she threw her hands around my waist after i surprisingly bumped into her today as i walked through the overcrowded Ogbete market to buy a new training Jersey.
It seemed like the happiness she wore was passed to me as my face worked into a deep smile that held on in my heart through out the remainder of today that has compelled me to write this, to tell the people who can listen the plight of the African children maimed and accused of witchcraft, My personal encounter with one of them and a call to save young kids going through this same ordeal in our society.It was sometime ago in February 2015, have being too bored after saying at home through out the day. I stepped out of the house to get fresh air and look around or at least watch the boys that play football on the street miniature field, wasn't a football fan- don't even play football seemed basketball had take my whole being.
There she was seated in a corner on a sack of packed gravel packed beside a wall.
Her face was strange and gloomy, dirty clothes that seemed oversized from every angle.
Haven't seen her before and that was very weird cus i know every single person in our little street right in the bustling sub-urb area in Enugu.
It was nearly 3pm and the afternoon sun wasn't taking it easy on us. I watched the ball for about an hour or two until the fights and constant quarrels over which one is a real goal and which is not which made me loose interest in the game and i made to go home, it was almost 5:00 according to my phone time; There she was still seated at that very corner.
"Emeka come" I called a little boy of about 10 who was chewing away at packet of cheese balls clutched in his hands.
"Eeeeh broda" He answered dreamily still working his teeth on his snacks.
"Who is that small girl there?" I asked him bending largely to even our heights and save him the stress of looking almost 75° to get to my face which towered at almost 6'9ft of my general height.
"Broda that's linda" He said casting a very questioning look at me, maybe surprised at my ignorance of the little figure at the corner
"she have been here since yesterday evening, they said she slept at that shed over there" He sang out in the normal central igbo dialect of Enugu city still busy with his chewing work.
"Can you go and call her for me" I asked
"Broda mba oooo (No ooo)" He retorted
"Why na" i asked in surprise now getting even more interested at the strange figure who from the emeka's behaviour seemed famous to the street folks.
"That linda is an ogbanje, they said she turned into a snake the other time during night vigil and confessed she was an ogbanje from the water, she even stole from the church, tufiakwa" He announced in am oddly shaky voice.
"Ok oya start going" I dismissed emeka who was more than happy to migrate immediately.
I walked up to linda whose face was tiled to the floor maybe looking at her feet or clothes.
I could easily guess her age around 11 or 12, an old hand braided hair, a slim figure and a very dark complexion.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her standing in front of her.
She looked up, her eyes were red and swollen and fading crisp trail of tears ran through her face.
"What are you doing here" I asked more calmly squatting in front of her.
"Nothing" She said taking her eyes off my face.
"Please tell me what the matter is, they told me you slept in that shed last night" I persisted.
"My Aunty was beating me, she wanted to add paper to my eyes and i ran away" She said
"What!!! what did you do?" I blurted out, mouth agape.
"They said i took money from the church donation box" She said
"And did you take the money?" I asked her
She went mute, fingers shakily clasped together caressing each other.
"Ok did you eat since yesterday" I intoned immediately that questioned popped into my head.
"I ate biscuit last night" her eyes sparkled like it was full and ready to pour down more tears.
I almost went dumb, i for one can't stay 12hours without eating but a little girl of this age have not eaten since yesterday almost 24hours.
I took her to my house, warmed the rice and stew i ate in the afternoon gave her a plate of rice and got one for myself too so she would feel comfortable eating it.
I didn't know her but i was intrigued by the story; Turning to a snake, being beaten and threatened to get paper smeared in her eyes.
I am an not superstitious, i don't believe all this spiritual witchry stories but for a moment i imagine what it would be like and how possible it was if she can turn into a snake right there in front of me.
She finished eating and thanked me still acting a bit shy.
"Did you steal that money from the church box?" I brought up the question again.
She took time to explain to me how the treatment she got from her aunty changed after a man of God said she was a witch, her aunty's son became ill and was taken to the hospital for weeks and the woman ran for prayers and was told her maid was the cause that she was a witch whose mission was to destroy the family.
She recounted how she was taken to the Prayer house were she was flogged mercilessly to confess what she was of which the cane marks on her hand said it all, and her aunty's attitude towards her changed drastically, she would use even a razor on her at the slightest provocation, canes were frequent and hunger treatment was a norm
She takes money from the church box sometimes when her aunty refuse to give her food for days until she was caught a few days back.
That her aunty said she talks in her sleep and the pastor said it was when she is on a meeting in her witch coven. That she never turned into a snake that the prayer house said she had a snake spirit and attack people in the spirit with snakes.
I was furious, my anger was because humans living in the this 21st century world could place their judgment over a fetish superstitious concept and subject a little child to such inhumane treatment.
I offered to take her back home to her house which according to her was on the next street behind ours, gave her #500 from the #1000 i had on me which she hid immediately and told her to always come along anytime she was hungry.
Her aunty flared up, i had to beg her not to beat her at least not when i was there, she kept ranting and telling me how the girl was a witch, how she nearly killed her son and all that, how she use to attack her with snakes in her sleep. if only she knew her story just made me feel like punching her right on the face.
She was allowed back into the house and the woman thanked me and i went home still worried.
My parents okayed the idea of her coming to eat at home anytime she felt like after i told them her story and she kept coming sometimes twice in a week till she stopped.
Two months later i heard her aunty had sent her home to her mother until today i got to see her again.
She said she now lived with another people who according to her treated her like a daughter, and were rich.
the genuine smile on her face didn't require anymore explanation and i can't still contain my joy to see she is now in good hands.
Then this takes me to the plight of millions of African children facing this exact predicament just because of people allowing superstitious fear to drive their judgement. This kids are maimed, beaten, starved, mutilated, burnt by the society who had given them an unwarranted tag witch, ogbanje, mami-water, demon and so on... and imbedding this nonsensical superstition on our young children that they too at this tender believe and fear this nonsense is very disturbing to me and it makes me wonder if our generation will ever rid this society of this stupendous belief.
These children are none of these exceptionally stup!d concepts people tag them with, these children need love and acceptance by the society to fit in, they shouldn't be discriminated against or mutilated.
There is nothing wrong with them, they might appear different and act above societal expectations but everyone is not meant to be the same. their difference makes them unique and a wonderful asset to the society if people will understand that all they need is love and acceptance.
My personal experience with linda was just one out a million cases that happen all over Africa, and i hope people will step up and save these children when ever, where ever you find them. what the society are doing to this children is totally wrong and Africa need to change this very archaic superstitiously stupendous ideology.
