At 6, Ikeogu was already leading a tough life.
After a lot of futile consultations with the village healers, he was eventually transported to the city. It was asthma. Finally, the recurrent coughs and sudden chest pains was not about the ancestral spirits and how they would not just be appeased, it was asthma. The concoctions had then stopped, giving way to pills and inhalers.
At 8, his life became tougher. Something new began in him. Usually, an excited Ikeogu would rush into the cooking shed, carry his plate of food, spread on his mat and eat. But one morning, it became different; his mother had seen him tiptoe into the shed like someone who didn’t want to be caught. Like a thief. Moments later, he emerged with a plate of yam and oil- his yam and oil, and then ran into a nearby bush to eat. For some time, Ezinne gaped from inside the hut, trying to make sense of what she just saw. Did her son just steal his own food?
This mysterious condition became worse by the day. Ikeogu stole anything; from his mother's wrappers and plates, to other boys’ belongings, and strangely his own things. The day he heaved in Amaechi’s palm tree climbing robe was when it dawned on Ezinne that she was in trouble.
The irresistible urge to steal didn't just come alone; whenever it hit him, he would lose the ability to differentiate his own things from others’, anything in sight, that he liked, had to be stolen. In an instant, the carved doll he had been playing with would turn attractive, looking around to make sure no one was watching, he would snatch it up and rush inside to hide it.
“How can a child be so evil! Ohi!”
Ezinne was not ready to sit by and watch her boy transform into a robber, she was going to force the stealing devil out of him. Some days, she would beat him to a pulp. Some nights, he would be sent into the dark, other nights his punishment would be kneeling till his little kneels bled.
Ikeogu wanted to tell his mother he did not know what was wrong with him and why he was stealing, he wanted to say he was trying. But he got not sensible chance to explain, instead, he got shouts and punishments.
"Mama please, be taking me to the city? Maybe they will help us again."
"Will you close your mouth! Is not about the city healers. It is you, thief. Shameless child!"
One afternoon, while his mother was out, the urge came again. It all of a sudden began feeling he had never seen the heap of cassava opposite their hut before. He wanted to pack them all, and take them to his room. Resisting was hard. At first, he stayed put and trembled. Then he burst into tears. He was not going to steal. He stomped the ground and summoned dust.
“I don’t want. I don’t want. I don’t want”
He kept chanting until it became difficult for him to cry and breathe. His chest went tight. He began to cough.
He knew what was happening.The healers in the city had showed him what to do whenever the pains came. Without wasting time, Ikeogu was already crawling inside the hut to get his inhaler. He saw it the mat- but it was no longer his.
“steal it.”
He stretched forward but quickly withdrew his hand. He would never steal.
“Is not belonging to me.”
“But you need it.”
“No, I want to be making mama proud, I tell her no stealing again.”
His throat narrowed as the battle went on in his head. His lips turned blue.
At 10, Ikeogu died. That afternoon, he died a victor, he did not die a thief.
