Fear after the abomination
By Abraham Nwankwo
The village in disbelief stands still in fear,
For this abomination could disaster bring.
Catastrophic, the wrath of the gods could be.
Their customs and traditions could all collapse,
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Their age-long practices could all evaporate,
Into a life of void and indeterminacy.
All await a transition to something undefined.
Something that was perhaps, nothingness.
As the clock of life seems backward to move.
Towards the state of timelessness before time began.
Losing grasp of the present; shifting to the pre-beginning;
When the only thing there was, was nothingness.
So the assembly of elders meet to discuss:
What to do before the heavens collapse?
An atonement of the highest order, they agree upon:
Kolanuts, yams, cocoyams, day-old chicks, cocks: all in
sevens.
Seven he-goats and seven rams also before dusk.
And no one to leave their house to farm.
Palm-wine tappers forbidden to climb the tree.
Bad enough that people still walk on the land.
But worse to try to ascend above the land.
Rather, lie flat on it to appease the gods;
For lowliness and fear, the gods can charm.
And for eight long days, the sorrow will last.
