YOUR TURN
The Year 2000
The Igi stood at the end of Tokunbo street
in Lagos, facing its original planter’s house, an old abandoned bungalow house.
The house that had not yet been put up for sales had housed a family who simply
moved on and out of the neighborhood after their little boy had disappeared
more than five years ago, they had never looked back. The Igi, a tree planted
in the eighties by a man called Dapo had sprung up tales of swallowing people
who came too close to it at night. Parents told their kids different tales
about it to scare them and put them to bed. They had believed scaring the
children almost every nights would prevent them from staying out after dark.
Kids were easily scared by the different tales they had heard about the Igi tree
but soon forget about it as they got older.
As the years passed by and parents got bored
with the tales about the Igi tree, the tree was soon forgotten. It stood there
through weathers, storms and all. In the year 2003, the house of Dapo was
finally put up for sale. It took another two years before they finally got a
buyer.
Mr. Charles had moved into the area with his
family after loosing his job in the major city. He was a drunk who never cared
so much about his family. He had wanted them moved into a neighborhood he
thought he could cover his shame and probably start a new life there. He was a
bad tempered man who hit every single member of his family without hesitation.
He had been married to his wife for fifteen years with two kids, the boy was twelve
while the little one, a girl was only six years if age. Mr. Charles soon
sniffed out a bar somewhere within the neighborhood where he frequently visited.
He resumed there everyday like his new job and spent out of his savings on any
alcohol he had the mood for. He drank more whenever his job hunt had been
fruitless for that day. He would get home and hit whoever gave him the
slightest irritation. Bolu, his twelve-year-old son had forgotten to polish his
dad’s pair of leather shoes one night before he went to bed. His dad had
returned from wherever just like every other night in one of his tempers. Bolu
heard his father say something to his mother before he headed to the bedroom.
Bolu froze on the bed when he heard his dad’s angry voice, demanding where his
shoes were. He heard his mum replied in her soft tone and then his dad raising
his voice that he was ready to kill his son. Bolu got up shivering in fear, he
knew his father would come into his room with either a leather belt or a cane
and finished him, he still had scars from the last flogging from his father. He
got up and contemplated on where to hide, underneath his bed, his closet,
bathroom or where. He looked at his window that overlooked the backyard. He
shook his head at the ridiculous idea that sprang up in his head and faced the
door. He thought he should probably take whatever beating his dad would dish
out to him that night, his dad still shouting allover his house and finally
demanded for is leather belt. His dad loved to soak his leather belt in water
to give more effect in the beating he was giving whoever he was descending on.
Bolu looked around him again shaking his head in tears, he opted that he might
run away and headed for his window. He pushed opened the windowpane close to
his bed and climbed over. He hid under the opening and ran across the street.
His dad must had just left his room because he could hear his dad calling out
his name in anger, Bolu decided he was really going to run away finally, he hid
behind the only tree facing his house shivering. Shortly he saw his mother step
outside the house looking around and then headed back inside, he started to cry
knowing that his mother would receive the wrath of his father if he didn’t
produce himself. And even if he returned to the house, he was sure he would
certainly touch the gates of heaven by the time his father started with him.
His father stepped out of the house slamming the door. His mother followed
shortly behind Charles. Bolu wanted only to make a run for it but he knew his
dad would certainly see him and probably catch up to him, he held his breath as
his father shouted into the streets, he had been so worried that he hadn’t
notice the tree becoming warm and moved slightly, he knelt behind the tree
wishing he could disappear or something. He backed the tree as he quietly
sobbed, he thought he heard his father shove his mum telling her to go look for
her son wherever she must had kept him. Someone touched his shoulder and he
swung around out of fear, his heart might had stopped beating if it was his
father’s hand he had felt on his shoulder. He tried not to make any sound and
covered his mouth with his hands. His mother must had walked down the street
searching for him because only his dad stood outside the house. He heard his
dad shout his name again promising to beat the hell out of him when he finds
him. Bolu sniffed and wiped at the tears on his face. He hadn’t seen the
branches that had transformed into arms and grabbed him, for a brief second he
wasn’t sure what had just happened and who’s hold he had felt. He turned around
wondering who was behind him, when he saw no one he looked up and just few
inches above him he stared into a face attached into the tree. He might had
been quick enough to get away but shock had made him too late as he felt hands
pull at him. He tried to struggle and let go but the force was more than he
could handle, he was pulled into some kind of hollowness and just as he tried
to scream there was a closing that manufactured right into his mouth and cut
his cry short. He couldn’t move nor struggle anymore. He could only make
muffled cries and sounds, he started feeling himself transform into something
he couldn’t explain. He saw as someone struggled out of something in front of
him and fell to the ground, the boy must had been fifteen years of age, younger
or older he couldn’t say, the boy stood up and dusted his clothes. Bolu still
couldn’t move but he could blink his eyes, he tried to speak but couldn’t. The
boy stood facing the tree and shook his head in pity. The boy asked what year
it was and when he got no answers he started to walk away then he changed his
mind and came back to the tree. He introduced himself as Stephen and looked up
at the new face in the tree. He didn’t come too close to the tree for reasons
Bolu didn’t understand. “You can only get out of that tree if you ever get a
replacement, you have to pull whoever it is into the tree… you only have powers
at night and make sure your victim is alone, if you fail, you’d be certainly
cut down” the boy said with an emotionless
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