Nigeria, fourteen, was a second cousin of mine who came to the City from the village, to live with us and to learn a trade. He was born on the first of October, and his patriotic parents thought it noble to name him after the country. I was eight years old when he started living with us but we didn't hit it off from the very beginning. A lot of my relatives always came around but no.... This one I just didn't like.
He had a very strange habit which I noticed immediately—he didn't use the water system inside the house, he rather used the pit latrine outside, like he was still in the village. This made him go outside several times, leaving the backdoor open for mosquitoes to infiltrate. I hated mosquitoes!
There was something else.... There's the way his sly eyes darted about when he thought no one was watching. I felt it was unsettling.....I felt he was hiding something.... Just a feeling then, nothing really much.
When I shared my misgivings with my mom, she silenced me immediately.
"He's just a timid young boy who needs our help, not our suspicions. His parents are dead and he has lived in the village all his life, we just want to help him in anyway we possibly can." It was more or less a stern warning from her to me, to keep silence.
..... But I kept a watch over him, over his every move. Each morning, he gets up by 4 am to sweep the compound, earlier than anyone in the house. My parents saw it as admirable and a proof of his obedience and hard work, but I found it..... uncomfortable.
Three months into his stay, it was obvious he didn't like me either, the way he avoided me like a plague. The feeling was ofcourse mutual.
Then one morning, the door creaked open at 4: a.m as usual, I loved sleep a lot but on this day, I was wide awake, waiting for the sound of the sweeping broom.
Silence.
Curious and uneasy, I slipped outside. His broom lay abandoned by the steps. Next to it, were his clothes—shirt, shorts, and even his slippers.
I froze. Where was he? Why would he be naked?
I was shocked beyond words, these were his clothes, so he must be naked wherever he was. I tiptoed round the compound which was fenced, there was no sign of him anywhere.
Out of fear, I ran inside and shook my mom awake. But by the time we returned outside, he was there—sweeping calmly, fully dressed, as if nothing had happened.
I couldn't believe what was happening, my head swam as he denied my allegations as false.
"I've been sweeping Ma, I didn't go anywhere neither did I remove my clothes. Why would I do that in the first place? He addressed my Mom in his heavy native accent.
My mom reprimanded me seriously before going inside the house.. As I turned to look at his lying face, he stood there, eyes narrowed, with the broom in his hand—I fled.
I was young but I knew there was something strange or uneasy going on but I didn't know what.
No one believed anything I had to say because Nigeria always acted so nice around my parents, infact he was the ideal child, hardworking and obedient, but I wasn't fooled.
Then one day, I confided in one of my classmates who seems to be very wise, Samuel.
"If you see anything strange again, summon the courage, gather his clothes and hide them. The truth will be forced out."
I reluctantly agreed.
Weeks passed, everything seemed normal, I gave up thinking that perhaps I imagined the whole thing. But I continued to avoid him like the plague.
Then came the holidays, and Chuka, my adventurous cousin, came to spend it with us. I told him everything—he believed me instantly and together, we hatched a plan.
We would d sneak out through my father’s door around 3:30 a.m. and lie in wait. Fortunately for me that night, luck was on our side—my dad was in my mom’s room, so we had a clear path.
We unlocked the door, hearts pounding, and waited in the shadows.
When I heard the main door open, my heart jumped into my mouth, I was trembling with fear but for my cousin who steadied.
What happened next shocked me to my bone marrow. Nigeria, unaware of our presence, went to a corner, dropped his broom and pulled off all item of clothing, and hid them inside the big pot outside.
Then, naked, he walked away—into the darkness.
We watched in silent horror as Chuka held me tightly, I was breathless.
With my heart in my mouth, I retrieved the clothes from where he hid them and tiptoed back into the house, locking the door from inside.
Even Chuka was shaken by what he saw. A lot of questions were on my mind as I woke my mom quietly. It was time to let the cat out of the bag.
Mom was disquietened and woke my dad. We told them everything, Chuka and I, with his clothes as enough proof.
We all waited.
At about 4:35, there were frantic rappings on the door. Dad opened with all of us closely packed behind him.
There Nigeria stood, in his birthday suit, weeping like a child. Everyone was shocked. Nothing he said was coherent, he was speaking gibberish.
On further interrogation by my parents as to where he had been, naked, he said he didn't know.
"I have no idea where I went to or why I am naked." He kept on muttering this over and over again.
He refused to say anything more than that. Then the next thing he did was to request for his clothes and soon after, left our house that same day.
No! Dad would not take that lying low, he followed him to the village and reported the strange happenings to his uncle—Nigeria's guardian. The man sighed deeply. Then he spoke in a sorrowful tone.
"I thought coming to the City, away from this village and his playmates, he would become a brand new man." He shook his head silently, his face a mask of pain.
"Is there something about Nigeria that you are not telling me, that you've hid from me?" My Dad was almost at the point of hysteria.
It turned out that Nigeria had been initiated into a deadly witchcraft cult at the age of six—lured into it by his playmates who gave him biscuits, their item of initiation. Since then, he’d been part of a dark circle, able to shed his human form for something... else.
A snake man! Bound to nightly missions. At dawn, they shed their skin to become fully human again.
My Dad cut off all communications with his uncle and his family soon after.
"You mean you could allow me take in someone as dangerous as he is, a snake man? A snake man in my house? And you didn't deem it fit to tell me? What if he had harmed my family?
"What if he had harmed me or any member of my family?" Dad kept repeating this question over and over again.
To this day, it remains one of the most disturbing experiences of my life. Though Nigeria died a few years later under mysterious circumstances, I still shudder when I remember the look in his sly eyes.
All images are AI generated.
Thank you very much for your continuous support 🙏
