There is this very ancient saying; Curiosity kills the cat.
I lay on my back that evening, staring at the Moon, and considering this — I didn't know if cats were truly curious or why curiosity should kill one, but in that moment, I empathized with that proverbial creature better than anyone.
We had gone to the village for our Summer holidays one year, I had just clocked 12 years and had not been to the village in years, because we had no close surviving relatives left there.
"The walls of the houses left behind by your parents are crumbling, lizards and rodents now live inside them." Mazi Okeke once told my Dad.
"Rebuild the houses and secure the farmlands before they are taken away from you." Mazi Udoka warned my Dad again.
It was on that premise that we travelled to the village that summer, we looked forward to it, my siblings and I..... We knew that lots of fun awaited us, the earthy smell of the dust and the fresh guava fruits falling, in the church compound, I missed them all so much.
By the next day, we were already on the community secondary school field, playing soccer with the local boys.
Before then, we had heard about a deep Well, dug a long time ago and which never dried up. It was believed that at a certain time of the night, when one peeks into it, one would see the face of a very beautiful woman.
But I had always dismissed it as a myth, one of the folklores of my people.
That evening, while we played football, the local boys started whispering about it again — About The Well.
many boys swore that they had seen the long hair and the dazzling face of the woman in The Well, but we, the boys from the city didn't believe a thing like that existed, especially me.
"It is an old, crumbling Well, hidden in the thicket behind the abandoned missionary school." Nkeri, our goalkeeper reiterated.
"If you looked into The Well at midnight, you will see her, the woman has very long and shiny dark hair and her eyes eh.... will cause shivers down your spine." Uloma, another local boy added.
"We have all seen her, she looks back at you." Okon said, puffing out his chest.
I laughed it off. "Ghosts or mermaids? These are childish fairy tales"
To prove us wrong, they scheduled a time of the night when we all would go see for ourselves.
That night, I slipped out of the hut and into the night, with the other boys, we were armed with torchlights and cutlasses. The Well loomed ahead, shadowy, broken, olden. Its stones were black with moss, its mouth wide and yawning like a gate to the unknown.
I tried to be brave, but at the edge, staring into that endless darkness, a dread like I have never known gnawed at my spine. I pulled back.
"I'll go tomorrow." I mumbled, my voice shaky as I stepped aside.
The boys peered in, one after the other, their faces pale and silent.
By morning, their stories poured out like spilled water.
"Her hair floated on the water like silk..."
"She smiled, but her smile did not reach her eyes..."
"Those her eyes, they were shining too bright, it almost blinded me..."
"Do you think she's a good spirit?...."
They all swore she was real.
And I became the bravest of the cowards because I had missed it.
I left the village haunted by their taunts, haunted by the thoughts of the woman in The Well.
Then on the first night after we got back from the village, the nightmares started.
The first night, I dreamt of a woman's face rising from the dark water, her hair trailing behind her like the mist. She called my name, but her voice echoed through the winds.
The second night, I dreamt again that I heard dripping water by my bed, even though the floor was dry, and soft, then wet fingers brushed my ankle in the dark.
By the third night, I woke gasping, and found my bedsheets soaked in sweat, as if I had been dragged from the bottom of a lake.
I was so afraid my life was in danger that I spilled it all out! My parents had to know of my adventure to The Well. It didn't go down well with them. While Dad dismissed my dreams as nightmares, not of any importance, my Mom took me to the church for deliverance. It was after the prayers that the nightmares stopped.
That incident I will never forget in a hurry.
"Curiosity indeed kills the cat."
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