have in Nigeria. It’s about bush-souls. We believe a person has four souls—the soul that survives death, the shadow on the path, the dream-soul, and the bush-soul.”
“That’s beautiful,” she said, her head next to his chest, breathing him in.
“But the bush-soul is special. It’s external to the body and takes on the form of an animal in the forest—a leopard, turtle, elephant, or hippo. Everyone has one. In the Calabar region of Nigeria, there’s this sacred lake where the fish are carefully preserved because the people believe their own souls reside in the fish. There was a chief in a village whose bush-soul lived in an old crocodile. When a hunter tried to kill it, the chief’s leg was mysteriously injured.”
He paused, and she looked up at him, willing him to go on. She felt the warmth of his chest next to her face. She could stay like this forever, listening to him talk, the melody of his voice lulling her into believing the world was a safe place, when it clearly wasn’t.
“If someone falls sick,” he continued. “It’s because the bush-soul is being neglected and an offering should be made to one’s animal. I want you to go home and pick an animal for your daughter, one that makes sense, and then make a little shrine, a little dwarf-sized hut in the forest and offer fruit to her animal. I’m not saying she will not fall sick ever again, but at least you’ll know there’s a bush-soul out there protecting her. It will help ease your mind.”
***
Later that afternoon, Sylvia went home for a few hours, leaving Lila in the clinic with Ayo. Energy and Patience helped her build a little shrine for Lila out of bamboo and banana leaves. Since Lila was born in the year of the boar according to Chinese astrology, Sylvia decided her bush-soul resided in the wild boar found foraging in the local forest. Wild boars sometimes came from the forest that bordered their garden. She placed an offering of fruit, as Ayo suggested, at the edge of this forest where the wild boar had last been seen.
A few days later, the antivenom eventually succeeded in neutralizing the poison in Lila’s blood, much to the spirits’ chagrin. Ayo smiled when he signed the medical release forms. Her daughter had been in his clinic for four days. Sylvia impulsively hugged him to thank him, holding him near for a little too long. The nurses probably wondered or maybe they had seen everything that had happened the last four days. Four days, a small slice of her life really, but to her, it felt like a seismic shift. The ground had moved and she would need to find her bearings again.
When she got home, she religiously changed the offering at her daughter’s shrine to her bush-soul. She believed in what Ayo said about the bush-souls because they were his words and his beliefs. She realized it was a psychological need for her, a ritual she performed every morning because she needed it as much as she believed it, just as he had said. Every day, when she placed fruit at the shrine at the edge of her garden, she thought of Ayo and the wild boar, watching over her daughter. She imagined the wild boar and her daughter would become intimately bound, invisible blood exchanged. The animal would protect Lila, and she, in turn, could not kill any of its species. The wild boar with its comical face, gray coat, and stunted tusks, capable of spearing snakes in the neck, would become Lila’s protection against the snake spirits.
After the snake attack, Sylvia also got Energy to tie up all the open air-conditioner pipes with cloth to keep the snakes out. But Patience and others still whispered that there was a snake spirit assaulting their house, and it would come back.
WINSTON
Chapter 8
His wife was in the garden when Winston returned. Energy crouched on the ground harvesting Chinese cabbage and dark greens from the vegetable patch under the kitchen window. Sylvia stood next to the leafy mango trees at the edge of the garden, her
“That’s beautiful,” she said, her head next to his chest, breathing him in.
“But the bush-soul is special. It’s external to the body and takes on the form of an animal in the forest—a leopard, turtle, elephant, or hippo. Everyone has one. In the Calabar region of Nigeria, there’s this sacred lake where the fish are carefully preserved because the people believe their own souls reside in the fish. There was a chief in a village whose bush-soul lived in an old crocodile. When a hunter tried to kill it, the chief’s leg was mysteriously injured.”
He paused, and she looked up at him, willing him to go on. She felt the warmth of his chest next to her face. She could stay like this forever, listening to him talk, the melody of his voice lulling her into believing the world was a safe place, when it clearly wasn’t.
“If someone falls sick,” he continued. “It’s because the bush-soul is being neglected and an offering should be made to one’s animal. I want you to go home and pick an animal for your daughter, one that makes sense, and then make a little shrine, a little dwarf-sized hut in the forest and offer fruit to her animal. I’m not saying she will not fall sick ever again, but at least you’ll know there’s a bush-soul out there protecting her. It will help ease your mind.”
***
Later that afternoon, Sylvia went home for a few hours, leaving Lila in the clinic with Ayo. Energy and Patience helped her build a little shrine for Lila out of bamboo and banana leaves. Since Lila was born in the year of the boar according to Chinese astrology, Sylvia decided her bush-soul resided in the wild boar found foraging in the local forest. Wild boars sometimes came from the forest that bordered their garden. She placed an offering of fruit, as Ayo suggested, at the edge of this forest where the wild boar had last been seen.
A few days later, the antivenom eventually succeeded in neutralizing the poison in Lila’s blood, much to the spirits’ chagrin. Ayo smiled when he signed the medical release forms. Her daughter had been in his clinic for four days. Sylvia impulsively hugged him to thank him, holding him near for a little too long. The nurses probably wondered or maybe they had seen everything that had happened the last four days. Four days, a small slice of her life really, but to her, it felt like a seismic shift. The ground had moved and she would need to find her bearings again.
When she got home, she religiously changed the offering at her daughter’s shrine to her bush-soul. She believed in what Ayo said about the bush-souls because they were his words and his beliefs. She realized it was a psychological need for her, a ritual she performed every morning because she needed it as much as she believed it, just as he had said. Every day, when she placed fruit at the shrine at the edge of her garden, she thought of Ayo and the wild boar, watching over her daughter. She imagined the wild boar and her daughter would become intimately bound, invisible blood exchanged. The animal would protect Lila, and she, in turn, could not kill any of its species. The wild boar with its comical face, gray coat, and stunted tusks, capable of spearing snakes in the neck, would become Lila’s protection against the snake spirits.
After the snake attack, Sylvia also got Energy to tie up all the open air-conditioner pipes with cloth to keep the snakes out. But Patience and others still whispered that there was a snake spirit assaulting their house, and it would come back.
WINSTON
Chapter 8
His wife was in the garden when Winston returned. Energy crouched on the ground harvesting Chinese cabbage and dark greens from the vegetable patch under the kitchen window. Sylvia stood next to the leafy mango trees at the edge of the garden, her
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