“Chai! Get up. Get up from the head of my god” – how I sat on the head of a Juju without knowing

Growing up as a child, my primary school days was a fun-filled one.

Our classmates loved to pay visits to each other’s houses. We selected houses to come to.

If you got selected, you were to tell your parents about our visit and prepare to entertain us.

Part of those class visitations came when our classmates fell sick. We never missed that day. Apart from the fun of visiting you and greeting you in your house, we knew that there was always going to be Coca-cola served to everyone to drink.

We visited every single one of our classmate’s houses.

Well, every single one except the two twin brothers, Obagu and Obagaya.

No one knew Obagu and his brother’s house.

No one.

Not even the class teacher.

No one cared to even know.

This was because Obagu’s father was a native doctor.

It was said that as a spiritual man, Obugu’s father used his house for his shrine work.

One very day, Obagu came to school without his twin brother Obagaya. He announced to us that his twin brother was seriously sick.

It was a tradition in our class for us to always visit a sick classmate. It was also a tradition to drink and eat whenever we visited.

Once you are sick, just prepare our food because we are definitely coming.

But this time, everybody became scared.

We prayed for the visitation day not to come.
During morning devotion, we prayed that Obagu walked into the class with his brother Obagaya, before the visitation day.

When the day finally came and things didn’t turn out as planned, we decided to visit using our school bus.

We arrived at Obagu’s house with our class teacher, Mrs. Bumi.

Obagu came down from the school bus and told us to stand outside while he goes in to tell his father of our visit.

We waited patiently.

Minutes later, Obagu’s Father walked out with a red wrapper tied around his waist.

A circle of white chalk was drawn around his left eyes, and some other cowries were planted on his head.

His legs were barefooted and painted with white.

“Una good afternoon o. Chai. Eyaaaa… Class teacher.”

“Good afternoon sir.” Mrs. Bummi greeted from a distance.

“Good afternoon sir.” All of us chorused with trembling voices.

“Eyaaaa… Una come see una friend?”

“Yes sir.” Everyone chorused again.

I did not join in the chorus. I was just looking at this man from afar and silently whispering the blood of Jesus.

“Eyaaa… It is just now I finish working o. Come inside. There is chair for all of you to sit down on.”

We all started looking at ourselves. Everyone was waiting for the first person to enter.

Mrs. Bummi who was obviously scared noticed the looks on our faces and quickly intervened. 

“No sir. Do not worry. We just wanted to greet Obagaya and quickly rush back to school. You know break will soon be over.”

Everyone nodded their head in support.

“Yes sir, the break will soon finish.” Simi quickly threw.

This was the first time we were visiting a classmate’s house and refusing to enter the house.

“Papa is a lie o. The…the…they should come inside. The….the…they just want t..to run.” A disappointed Obagu stammered.

I felt like slapping that boy. I felt like carrying a pistol and breaking his head. Come inside where?

Shrine house?

God forbid bad thing.

“No class teacher.” Obagu’s father spoke boldly.

“You cannot come to my house and go back like that. You have to enter and sit down, so I can offer you Kola nut.”

The look on this man’s eyes changed.

Mrs. Bumi became scared. She started walking in and instructed us to follow her when she noticed that our refusal may anger Obagu’s father.

“Careful o. Be careful so that you won’t push my Juju o.” Obagu’s father warned.

“I said be careful.” He raised his voice louder when one student pushed a bunch of cowrie on the door.”

“Walk in gently gently and sit down. Remember sit down, my Juju does not like people standing. Sit down as you go in.” He instructed.

Soon, twenty-five of us were comfortably seated inside the house.

Obagu’s father followed us behind and walked in smiling.

He turned in my direction and screamed.

“Chaiiiii! Get up, get up from the head of my god” Obagu’s father shouted furiously at me. “You are sitting on my Juju head. This is not a chair. This is the head of my god.” He screamed.

The whole place became silent as a graveyard.
I stood up to actually discover that it was the head of a sculpture.

The head was flat and I had mistaken it for a small stool.

My heart started beating.
Sweat pumped out my forehead.
Silent gas escaped my Anus.
My stomach began to turn.

Obagu’s father quickly carried a hot drink and poured it on the statue head. He sipped a bit and spat on the statue. He began to sing and dance diabolically. He even knelt and begged the Juju.

When I saw him kneeling, fear did not allow me, I joined in the kneeling.

This was my life at stake here.

Then he stopped.

“You are lucky that the gods are not angry with you. The juju has forgiven you.”

“Thank you, sir.” I muttered feeling relieved.

“Thank you sir o.” the whole student chorused.

That day, I canceled sitting down from my dictionary. I stood up until we left Obagu’s house.

For the rest of that day, I could not believe what I had done.

So I sat down on a Juju head and survived.

So you mean, I Praises Chidera Obiora actually sat down on the head of a Juju and it didn’t get angry with me.

That Juju must be a kind Juju. Not all juju is wicked.

But then, I didn’t trust the juju judgment.

Every night before I go to bed, I placed a bible on my bumbum and slept with another one as a pillow.

I used anointing oil to anoint my buttocks, while I used Vaseline on other parts of my body.

Juju is not to be trusted. They can change their mind at any time.

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