The war finally broke out!
The ancestors had felt strongly that they had grown in stature, might, wisdom, control, and universal omnipotence. On the former four, they were spot on, but on the latter one, they stumbled. Traditional Nigeria was their fortress, not the universe.
They had enjoyed years upon years of kolanuts and blood of fowls used to appease the gods. A fair share had been their portion. They felt like gods. Why shouldn’t they? After all, it takes a god to dine with a god!
So they decided to take the throne. A coup to dethrone the ancient gods was appropriate. “That will solidify our authority… and will mean more kolanut… hahaha” They all laughed as they schemed their strategies.
At last it happened. The ancestors standing up to the gods. It was fierce. It was bloody. The elements were set on a collision course. Every weapon in the otherworldly armoury tasted blood. The ancestors fought with every tinge of fervour, spirit and gusto. It was a battle for supremacy; it was a battle for cosmic control; it was a battle against the gods.
Every weapon in their arsenal was deployed. They had served the ancestors and surely knew their weakness- and that was their cue. That was going to deliver victory to them and cement their position as the newly installed gods. That was going to perfect their seamless segue from *ammortality to immortality. They were on course… but… they lost.
The ancestors lost- and that woefully. Face flat, they fell under the mighty, dark powers of the gods. They were rounded up and sent into limbo for a thousand onwa.
They forgot something. “That the king permits you a share of his rich table doesn’t make you a king.” He is just showing you the one side of his kingship- benevolence. There is another side- malevolence!
They were ancestors, but they thought they were gods, simply because they partook of the sacred delicacy on the table of the gods- kolanuts and blood sacrifices of earthlings. How disastrous!
Now the battle is over and weeping rends the aerial plane. The ancestors are weeping and crying hopelessly. They are counting their losses and tears give the number. Yes, I see their tears, too many of them.
Now, how do I know this? Simple. I am holed up in my cubicle of a room at ihiagwa, FUTO, with torrents of rain drops threatening to tear down my roof. Yes, it is raining heavily here in Owerri. I swear, this kain rain can only come from crying ancestors. It is definitely those ancestors counting their losses!
PS: It appears that when a traditionalist dies, he goes to become an ancestor just to be ‘chopping kolanut.’ If na lie, ask Nollywood movies!
*Ammortality is a passing state between mortality and immortality where the being is neither of the two, but is transiting from one to the other.
(It may interest you to know that this battle took place sometime in 2014)