ATUPA In the ancient Yoruba Empire, before new religions arrived in boats, there were marked ancestries with distinct powers and divine mandates. The Oshun ancestry was known for fertility and love, the Oko ancestry made sure famine never had a way in the lands, the Erinle bloodline were healers, and the descendants of Ogun hunted and fought the wars. When it came to hunting, any man could do it, but the difference between a taught hunter and an Ogun descendant was the power. A child from the Ogun ancestry had the blood of the god of war, so he could hunt wild creatures. These creatures were not called wild because of their feral nature, they were wild because they housed wicked spirits and beings. To kill them, one needed more than a spear and a brave hunter; one needed to be a male with the Ogun blood running through him. Each Ogun household had sacred lamps called Atupa. They were passed down from generation to generation. At the beginning of a moon, when Ogun hunters sang into the most evil of forests in search of animals, these oil-less lamps would flicker to life. Their wives would then sit before the burning lamps and offer prayers to the gods. The intercession could never stop until their husbands and sons returned safely. As long as his Atupa burned, nothing could overcome a hunter in the wild. The night Ogungbami’s father, one of the most powerful hunters in Agbaale history died with his three sons, their lamps had gone off first. It had been unbelievable. That midnight, his wife had done all she could to get the lamps back on. She incanted, summoned and appeased every deity she knew. In the morning, Ogunniyi’s body was brought in on the shoulders of his fellow hunters. A formidable beast had torn off his head during a fight. His sons had just vanished. Ogungbami was a child when his father and brothers passed. But he heard the tale. Of how a strange beast had overcome his mighty father, of how the best and the most experienced hunters had combed the every forest in Agbaale for his brothers. The night Ogungbami took in his wife, Oshunfunke, he sat her down, and told her how he came to be the only hunter in his family. “Ni agbara awon irunmole ati awon to laye, emi ati awon omoo mi yi o gba ori lara re.” One day, he would meet the beast and avenge his father. As the gods lived, he and his sons would have its head. That night, something happened in Oshunfunke. None of her sons would die like her husband’s brothers. When the time came for her to deliver, a strange thing happened. A girl came out of her. Never in history had a household of Ogun given birth to a female child. Probably because the gods understood females couldn’t be hunters. But now? Could this be a sign that she wasn’t supposed to lose a child to the forests? The news went far and near. While his wife was happy, Ogungbami became a laughing stock amongst the hunters. A hunter without a male child. God forbid. However, as his daughter, Ogunbunmi grew, he began to see reasons to laugh. The gods couldn’t have favored him better. Ogunbunmi was the bravest child he had ever seen. One afternoon, ten farm cycles after her birth, Ogunbunmi had run into his hut, excitement written all over her. The moment he glimpsed her, he had shot out of this mat, eyes wide. He couldn’t believe what was standing and smiling before him. “Ogunbunmi! N’bo lo ti ri eran to gbe k’orun?” “Emi ni baa mi. Emi ni mo pa!” Her voice was swollen with pride. Dangling on the neck of his little girl was a huge antelope still dripping crimson. Her tiny fingers wrapped around a spear twice her height. It kept glinting in the rays pouring through the hut’s lone window. She had single-handedly chased and speared the animal to death. Ogunbunmi grew to be the talk of the villages. Her father’s..

MOTHERS AND MURDERS 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. Soogun Omoniyi..