If Demons Could Talk By Ikechukwu Mbachu


Ikechukwu Mbachu

I had a funny and telling experience last two weeks. My Cameroonian friend woke me up with an early morning phone call, his voice strained. I ruminated on what will necessitate such an early call and asked him what the matter was, expecting him to unleash one tale of horror or happiness, He did neither; instead he started asking for directions to a particular church in Nigeria.
I was flabbergasted and sightly angry and could not help but flippantly ask him if he didn’t know I am not a church goer. He then told me that indeed it was a serious matter. How serious was the matter? I asked, did anyone die? No. Is any one in a great deal of danger? No. Is anyone sick? Yes and No, He answered, I asked him who the sick person was, because having seen him the previous day, I knew if anyone was sick, it was most probably not him, He told me, he is not sick, that it was his brother in Cameron who was sick. I then asked him the nature of the ailment, he launched on a tirade of nonsensical statements about his brother been troubled …

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