The idea of spending a weekend camping in the countryside excited ten year old Kene more than anything else. He had always seen movies wherein families went on camping trips and he felt it will be so cool if their family went and as such every school break , he’d pester his dad to take them camping. His father, Mr. Okoro, had organised the trip with three other families, hoping to give their children a break from the noise and busy streets of Enugu. They planned to camp near a thick forest in southeastern Nigeria, where they could enjoy nature, tell stories around a campfire, and spend time together.
Before they left, Kene's mother warned him repeatedly not to wander away from the group.
"That forest is enormous, Kene. If you need anything, come to us. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mummy," he screamed, more out of excitement than anything else. They arrived shortly before noon on Saturday. The adults pitched their tents near a clearing while the children played around the campsite. After lunch, Kene went looking for a particular bird he had seen near the edge of the forest. He told himself in his mind, he would only go a little distance, just far enough to get a better look.
The bird kept moving forward and he had this stubborn nature of always wanting to see the end to things and again he always had an inquisitive nature to him but before he realised what was happening, Kene had wandered deeper among the trees, into the forest and when he finally stopped, the bird was gone.
He turned around, expecting to see the clearing, but all he saw were towering trees and tangled vegetation. He had lost his way.
"Mummy!" he shouted.
Only an echo answered him, he started breathing heavily at the realisation of what might have transpired, Kene tried retracing his steps, but every path looked identical. It looked like he was just going in circles. The deeper he walked, the darker the forest became. The afternoon sunlight faded beneath the thick canopy, and strange sounds began emerging from the undergrowth.
After walking for a very long time without direction, he heard something that made him shudder with fear , more than he already was at the time. He heard a bell rang three times. The sound came from somewhere ahead, terrified but desperate to find his family, Kene followed it. Maybe their were other campers in that direction. After several minutes of walking at that direction, he reached a clearing and immediately ducked behind a fallen tree. He saw a group of strange looking people stood around a large fire. Their bodies were covered in white markings, and several wore necklaces made from bones and animal teeth. In the middle of their circle stood a wooden idol with enormous eyes and a mouth carved and dripped in what looked like red paint.
An elderly man was chanting in a language Kene did not understand. Two others beat small drums while another poured a dark liquid onto the ground. Kene pressed his hands against his mouth to keep himself from making a sound. Then he noticed something that made his stomach turn. A man was tied to a tree beside the fire. His clothes were torn, his face was bruised, and his mouth had been covered with cloth. He struggled desperately as two members of the group dragged him towards the wooden idol.
Kene wanted to scream for help, but fear held him still. Suddenly, the chanting stopped. The elderly man slowly turned towards the fallen tree.
"Someone has entered the forest," he announced.
Kene's heart hammered against his chest. The elderly man sniffed the air as though searching for something.
"A child," he said. "I can smell his fear."
The group began searching the clearing, kene crawled backwards through the undergrowth until he was far enough away to run. He stumbled between the trees, scratching his arms against thorny branches, until the sounds of chanting faded behind him. He found a sudden burst of strength that he didn’t even know he had at the time, at that point nothing else mattered other than his escape. Then he heard his mother calling.
"Kene! My son!"
He stopped immediately.
"Mummy?"
"Come here, darling. I've been looking for you."
The voice came from behind a massive tree. Kene hurried towards it, but something made him stop just before reaching the trunk. His mother had a distinctive habit of calling him Nkem, a name she had used since he was a baby. The voice had called him Kene, he stepped backwards. From behind the tree came a horrible giggle. A tall figure emerged, wearing what looked like his mother's clothes. Its face was hidden beneath a mass of tangled hair, but its arms reached almost to its knees.
"Come to me, Nkem," it whispered.
Kene ran.
He ran until his lungs burned and his legs trembled. He had no idea how long he wandered. He stumbled through thorn bushes, crossed muddy patches, and drank from the stream when thirst became unbearable. Several times, he heard drums in the distance, always accompanied by that same dreadful bell. Then, just when he believed he would never escape, he heard familiar voices.
"Kene! Kenechukwu!"
It was his father.
He ran towards the sound and burst into a clearing where his parents and the other adults were gathered around flashlights. His mother screamed when she saw him and rushed forward, embracing him so tightly that he could barely breathe.
"Where have you been? We've been searching for hours!"
Kene began crying uncontrollably. His father examined his scratches and muddy clothes, asking questions he struggled to answer. Before they could leave, one of the men suddenly shouted.
"Where is Mr. Eze,?" “Did you see Mr Eze in the forest?” the man asked
Everyone stopped. Mr. Eze, one of the fathers who had joined their camping trip and was also missing. They called his name and searched around the campsite, but there was no response. Kene's tears stopped. He remembered the man tied to the tree beside the fire. He remembered the torn clothes, the bruised face, and the desperate struggle. It was Mr. Eze, he had been captured by the strange group in the forest.
Kene opened his mouth to speak, but then he remembered the elderly man's words. “A child. I can smell his fear.” He imagined the group emerging from the trees, their bone necklaces rattling as they surrounded the campsite. If his parents knew what he had seen, they might insist on searching for Mr. Eze. They might return to the clearing, straight into the hands of those people. So Kene said nothing.
"He probably wandered off to find a signal," one of the men suggested.
They searched for another twenty minutes before deciding to leave and contact the authorities from the nearest village. Kene stayed close to his mother as they packed their belongings. He never once looked towards the forest. But as their vehicles began moving down the dirt road, he glanced through the rear window. Between two distant trees stood the elderly man from the clearing. Beside him was the wooden idol and at their feet knelt Mr. Eze, his hands bound behind his back. The elderly man raised one hand and waved at Kene and smiled.
That night, safely back home, Kene refused to sleep alone. His parents assumed he was traumatised by his experience, and he allowed them to believe it. He never told anyone what had happened in the forest, not even when the police later announced that Mr. Eze had disappeared without a trace.
Image gotten from Gemini