I wrote this true story that happened to me on my Facebook wall yesterday.




"Forgive me father for I have sinned" I said in a profound contrite tone displaying the deep seated regret that ran through my soul.

"Speak my son" The whispering clear voice of the priest sipped through the numerous holes that separated us both in the confessioner "What sins have you committed?"

My hands were clasped together beneath my chest tightly in an undying piety for Christ, my eyes misty from the regrets that tore through my conscience.

What have I done?
Why did I do it?
Did the Catechism not warn me early enough?
Now, I have fallen short of the glory of God.
I have sinned and the mercy of God must be attained or my destination is sealed.

I can still vividly remember my sin. It played out freshly in my memory. Kneeling right there before the Priest of Christ, the sacrament of penance, atoning for my abhorrent action.

It was just 4 days ago we got back from the village. The new school year was about to start, so I had to wrap up my village vacation stay with my grand mother.

I always relished the idea of spending my vacations in the village, spending time with my grand mothers, both of which lived in the village but more especially because Papa was not around to put a check on my behavior. I was free to roam around every day, jumping from one tree to another, howling wildly in the bush chasing after bush rats, grasscutters and snakes.

The untamed happiness of a child free from the prying correcting eyes of his Father.

My friends and relatives in the village, boys my age would come to find me as early as 8am, we were off, I just had breakfast, enough energy to get me through the morning, wild fruits and nuts from the bushes we ran around in will do for lunch and then we are off to the forest to burn calories chasing after little Bush meats that ran as if they had something to win - they did have something to win; their lives.

Grandma surely always had dinner waiting.

As Papa came down to the village that weekend to pick me up back to the city, I was being beaten by my conscience, every look from Papa felt as if he could read me as a book, I felt vulnerable, as if he could see right through my eyes every picture of the sin I've committed just a day before.

Papa would disagree strongly. He would be angry.

"You are a Christian boy" He'd say "Your father is strong in the catholic faith. I won't have any of my children dragged to the scotching fires of hell"

Wait, till he finds out what I had just done. It would be as if the fires of hell lurked around somewhere beneath me, God surely will remove my name from the book of life for this one.

I was silent throughout the journey back to the city.

"Don't worry son, I will bring you back after this term is over" Papa said with a tone of concern over my mood. He had imagined I was unhappy to end my holiday.

Oh how wrong he was.

It was the day before Saturday, Friday. I woke to an air of festivity around Agbaeze compound. The fires and aroma of food coming from the kitchens of Mama Nnenna and Mma Oyina were too good to be just an ordinary breakfast which most times were steaming soups warmed from yesterday's leftovers going down with hard cold akpu that scratched your throat as they slid down.

It seemed there was an occasion everyone was preparing for. It is not Christmas, neither is it Easter, so, naturally I was confused on what the occasion was.

Ebuka came down towards my Grandmother's hut, he was munching over a large chunk of chicken lap, this early morning, steam rose from the meat, peppered juices smeared all over his face.

"What is happening?" I asked trying to say that in our local dialect.

"Oduigbo is coming home today!" He happily announced taking a deep bite into the meat.

Oduigbo is a masquerade, managed and fixed by our umunna, our hamlet in Amaowerre Edem of Umulumgbe.

In our town of Umulumgbe much like most part of Igbo land, masquerades had a spiritual significance. There were more than masked men chasing and scaring boys and women as the playful ones are. They were seen as revered spirits of the ancestors, wise and just, ancient warriors with brave deeds to their names; So, their coming were expected, celebrated and comes with a hope of blessings and messages from the land of the ancestors to the adherents of Odinani Igbo.

That was the occasion today.

In our family, my grand father was the first Christian hence his wife and son (Papa) are Christians.

But not everyone in Agbaeze family are Christians, Nnam Ode wasn't - a wise man, physical specimen of the unnatural height that ran in the Agbaeze blood, a good man in every way.

His wives Mama m Oyina and Mama Nnenna the youngest are preparing the meals for today's festivities.

I could see the egusi soup as Mama m Oyina turned it in the pot, there was hardly any water in it, large chunks of meat poking out here and there, I couldn't help but swallow my spit. Other delicacies were also going to be available; Okpa freshly made with new palm oil, roasted yam to go with Ugba, Abacha and Akidi, Agbugbu and achicha and a goat will be killed and devoured right there in the presence of the newly arrived ancestral spirit.

Ebuka had explained, after the cookings are done, the men will go to the Oduigbo shrine with beer, palm wine and canons to signal the arrival of the much awaited spirit, the women will carry all the delicacies prepared to the shrine where everyone will participate in the rituals, eat all the food, drink the wine and take home the blessings from the land of the ancestors.

The women were gathered, clad in uniformed wrappers, their legs adorned in uhie (Red dyes) down to the sole of the feet.

The men headed for the shrine, there was no way I could miss everything I have just seen and heard, I tagged along, asking more questions as we went.

Grandma didn't know where I went to, if she had, she would have threatened to tell Papa.

A little after 5pm, the masqurade arrived, well decorated with new clothe prints, newly painted masks, its large white horns shooting up stupendously, he was a beautiful spirit.

The kolanuts were split and shared, the prayers were said, the rhyming incantations and messages from the masquerade rang out into the air, it bore messages of glad tiding, I thought the tenor voice that sang underneath the clothing decorations were amazing, amplifying echo from the chambered hollow mask.

After the bit, it was time to eat and drink, every food brought to the shrine must be consumed, no one was allowed to deny the other what they wanted to eat. Men chatting and laughing, beer and palmwine trickling down their chins and they greedily washed them down finishing with a roar.

I hesitated. Participating in the consumption of food sacrificed or dedicated to a pagan deity? Oh, that is the end of it.

How many times have Papa warned me about avoiding anything pagan?
How many times did I hear that from the catechism teachers?
The bible? God literally punished the Israelites for such sin.

People enquired why i was not eating, I tried to smile it off, working hard to resist the urge to unwind, join everyone else in their happiness and festivities.

Needles to say, I caved in, dove deep to help myself, the Okpa was out of the world, hardly any dip into the soup came without a chunk of meat in my hand, the akpu, freshly made, soft and oozed in all glory.

This was the first day I drank a beer, no soft drink was anywhere in sight, no one stopped me, Nnam Ode looked at me with an eye of admiration - This was what manhood was about.

For a while, I forgot, I was deep in the joy of it all, flanked left, right and center by my kin's men, eating from wooden plates, occasional solo rhymes coming from the now seated masquerade.

It was peaceful and happy.

But the morning after, all my joy and happiness was replaced with guilt and regret, I had committed a grievous sin before God, i had tainted the temple of the holy spirit with unholy food and drinks in an unholy gathering.

That was the story I feared Papa could see beneath my misty eyes.

Now? I can still remember the inside of the church, my penance of 25 decades of the rosary proscribed by the priest with a stern warning not to commit this sin again, a reminder that the holy spirit do not dwell in unholy bodies.

I can picture myself going to this confession again, I would do and say things differently.

"I am not here to ask for forgiveness Father, I have done nothing. I ate a food dedicated to the Gods of my fathers, the Gods and spirits of my ancestors and I shared moments of joy and peace with my kinsmen, a fellowship much needed in a world marred by hate. I do not regret this Father, I am happy I did, I will do it again. The bible always talked about Gods of the Israeli's forefathers, of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, why should I be ashamed of the Gods of my own Fathers? The Gods of Uradogwu, the Gods of Ekweka and Agbaeze? I do not ask for pardon Father, I have not sinned, I only ate from the same plate my ancestors ate from and I am proud of it"

That is how I wished that confession had gone. Now I wish my joy weren't tainted by regret and remorse over a sin that isn't a sin.

I am an African man, an Igbo man, Odinani is part of my identity, I do not have to be a man of belief to appreciate this part of who I am.



John Chukwuemeka Ekwekaanyinya Agbaeze
This isn't fiction. It really happened to me.

Me likey!

johnydon22:
I wrote this true story that happened to me on my Facebook wall yesterday.




"Forgive me father for I have sinned" I said in a profound contrite tone displaying the deep seated regret that ran through my soul.

"Speak my son" The whispering clear voice of the priest sipped through the numerous holes that separated us both in the confessioner "What sins have you committed?"

My hands were clasped together beneath my chest tightly in an undying piety for Christ, my eyes misty from the regrets that tore through my conscience.

What have I done?
Why did I do it?
Did the Catechism not warn me early enough?
Now, I have fallen short of the glory of God.
I have sinned and the mercy of God must be attained or my destination is sealed.

I can still vividly remember my sin. It played out freshly in my memory. Kneeling right there before the Priest of Christ, the sacrament of penance, atoning for my abhorrent action.

It was just 4 days ago we got back from the village. The new school year was about to start, so I had to wrap up my village vacation stay with my grand mother.

I always relished the idea of spending my vacations in the village, spending time with my grand mothers, both of which lived in the village but more especially because Papa was not around to put a check on my behavior. I was free to roam around every day, jumping from one tree to another, howling wildly in the bush chasing after bush rats, grasscutters and snakes.

The untamed happiness of a child free from the prying correcting eyes of his Father.

My friends and relatives in the village, boys my age would come to find me as early as 8am, we were off, I just had breakfast, enough energy to get me through the morning, wild fruits and nuts from the bushes we ran around in will do for lunch and then we are off to the forest to burn calories chasing after little Bush meats that ran as if they had something to win - they did have something to win; their lives.

Grandma surely always had dinner waiting.

As Papa came down to the village that weekend to pick me up back to the city, I was being beaten by my conscience, every look from Papa felt as if he could read me as a book, I felt vulnerable, as if he could see right through my eyes every picture of the sin I've committed just a day before.

Papa would disagree strongly. He would be angry.

"You are a Christian boy" He'd say "Your father is strong in the catholic faith. I won't have any of my children dragged to the scotching fires of hell"

Wait, till he finds out what I had just done. It would be as if the fires of hell lurked around somewhere beneath me, God surely will remove my name from the book of life for this one.

I was silent throughout the journey back to the city.

"Don't worry son, I will bring you back after this term is over" Papa said with a tone of concern over my mood. He had imagined I was unhappy to end my holiday.

Oh how wrong he was.

It was the day before Saturday, Friday. I woke to an air of festivity around Agbaeze compound. The fires and aroma of food coming from the kitchens of Mama Nnenna and Mma Oyina were too good to be just an ordinary breakfast which most times were steaming soups warmed from yesterday's leftovers going down with hard cold akpu that scratched your throat as they slid down.

It seemed there was an occasion everyone was preparing for. It is not Christmas, neither is it Easter, so, naturally I was confused on what the occasion was.

Ebuka came down towards my Grandmother's hut, he was munching over a large chunk of chicken lap, this early morning, steam rose from the meat, peppered juices smeared all over his face.

"What is happening?" I asked trying to say that in our local dialect.

"Oduigbo is coming home today!" He happily announced taking a deep bite into the meat.

Oduigbo is a masquerade, managed and fixed by our umunna, our hamlet in Amaowerre Edem of Umulumgbe.

In our town of Umulumgbe much like most part of Igbo land, masquerades had a spiritual significance. There were more than masked men chasing and scaring boys and women as the playful ones are. They were seen as revered spirits of the ancestors, wise and just, ancient warriors with brave deeds to their names; So, their coming were expected, celebrated and comes with a hope of blessings and messages from the land of the ancestors to the adherents of Odinani Igbo.

That was the occasion today.

In our family, my grand father was the first Christian hence his wife and son (Papa) are Christians.

But not everyone in Agbaeze family are Christians, Nnam Ode wasn't - a wise man, physical specimen of the unnatural height that ran in the Agbaeze blood, a good man in every way.

His wives Mama m Oyina and Mama Nnenna the youngest are preparing the meals for today's festivities.

I could see the egusi soup as Mama m Oyina turned it in the pot, there was hardly any water in it, large chunks of meat poking out here and there, I couldn't help but swallow my spit. Other delicacies were also going to be available; Okpa freshly made with new palm oil, roasted yam to go with Ugba, Abacha and Akidi, Agbugbu and achicha and a goat will be killed and devoured right there in the presence of the newly arrived ancestral spirit.

Ebuka had explained, after the cookings are done, the men will go to the Oduigbo shrine with beer, palm wine and canons to signal the arrival of the much awaited spirit, the women will carry all the delicacies prepared to the shrine where everyone will participate in the rituals, eat all the food, drink the wine and take home the blessings from the land of the ancestors.

The women were gathered, clad in uniformed wrappers, their legs adorned in uhie (Red dyes) down to the sole of the feet.

The men headed for the shrine, there was no way I could miss everything I have just seen and heard, I tagged along, asking more questions as we went.

Grandma didn't know where I went to, if she had, she would have threatened to tell Papa.

A little after 5pm, the masqurade arrived, well decorated with new clothe prints, newly painted masks, its large white horns shooting up stupendously, he was a beautiful spirit.

The kolanuts were split and shared, the prayers were said, the rhyming incantations and messages from the masquerade rang out into the air, it bore messages of glad tiding, I thought the tenor voice that sang underneath the clothing decorations were amazing, amplifying echo from the chambered hollow mask.

After the bit, it was time to eat and drink, every food brought to the shrine must be consumed, no one was allowed to deny the other what they wanted to eat. Men chatting and laughing, beer and palmwine trickling down their chins and they greedily washed them down finishing with a roar.

I hesitated. Participating in the consumption of food sacrificed or dedicated to a pagan deity? Oh, that is the end of it.

How many times have Papa warned me about avoiding anything pagan?
How many times did I hear that from the catechism teachers?
The bible? God literally punished the Israelites for such sin.

People enquired why i was not eating, I tried to smile it off, working hard to resist the urge to unwind, join everyone else in their happiness and festivities.

Needles to say, I caved in, dove deep to help myself, the Okpa was out of the world, hardly any dip into the soup came without a chunk of meat in my hand, the akpu, freshly made, soft and oozed in all glory.

This was the first day I drank a beer, no soft drink was anywhere in sight, no one stopped me, Nnam Ode looked at me with an eye of admiration - This was what manhood was about.

For a while, I forgot, I was deep in the joy of it all, flanked left, right and center by my kin's men, eating from wooden plates, occasional solo rhymes coming from the now seated masquerade.

It was peaceful and happy.

But the morning after, all my joy and happiness was replaced with guilt and regret, I had committed a grievous sin before God, i had tainted the temple of the holy spirit with unholy food and drinks in an unholy gathering.

That was the story I feared Papa could see beneath my misty eyes.

Now? I can still remember the inside of the church, my penance of 25 decades of the rosary proscribed by the priest with a stern warning not to commit this sin again, a reminder that the holy spirit do not dwell in unholy bodies.

I can picture myself going to this confession again, I would do and say things differently.

"I am not here to ask for forgiveness Father, I have done nothing. I ate a food dedicated to the Gods of my fathers, the Gods and spirits of my ancestors and I shared moments of joy and peace with my kinsmen, a fellowship much needed in a world marred by hate. I do not regret this Father, I am happy I did, I will do it again. The bible always talked about Gods of the Israeli's forefathers, of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, why should I be ashamed of the Gods of my own Fathers? The Gods of Uradogwu, the Gods of Ekweka and Agbaeze? I do not ask for pardon Father, I have not sinned, I only ate from the same plate my ancestors ate from and I am proud of it"

That is how I wished that confession had gone. Now I wish my joy weren't tainted by regret and remorse over a sin that isn't a sin.

I am an African man, an Igbo man, Odinani is part of my identity, I do not have to be a man of belief to appreciate this part of who I am.



John Chukwuemeka Ekwekaanyinya Agbaeze
This isn't fiction. It really happened to me.

Your thoughts, both in print or in your mind shall be clearly visible to you when you die. You shall defend them before your Maker. Whether you believe it or not, it won't matter there.

Don't worry Jonnydon, your self conceitedness is well noted.

Shepherd00:

Your thoughts, both in print or in your mind shall be clearly visible to you when you die. You shall defend them before your Maker. Whether you believe it or not, it won't matter there.

Don't worry Jonnydon, your self conceitedness is well noted.

Jesus bro! You didn't have to quote the whole thing to make this point which is also rather inconsequential to the post.

LordReed:
Me likey!

Of course you do.

johnydon22:


Jesus bro! You didn't have to quote the whole thing to make this point which is also rather inconsequential to the post.

Thou shall not take the name of the Lord God in vain, for He shall not hold guiltless any one who takes His name vain.


I had to quote all of you to let you know that your selfconceitedness in that post is noted.

Shepherd00:

Thou shall not take the name of the Lord God in vain, for He shall not hold guiltless any one who takes His name vain.


I had to quote all of you to let you know that your selfconceitedness in that post is noted.

You are secretary general for this Lord God I assume? Yoi keep tab on these supoosed transgressions to its name.

johnydon22:


You are secretary general for this Lord God I assume? Yoi keep tab on these supoosed transgressions to its name.

What says the Word?

johnydon22:


You are secretary general for this Lord God I assume? Yoi keep tab on these supoosed transgressions to its name.

It's like talking to someone LARPing

johnydon22:

I am an African man, an Igbo man, Odinani is part of my identity, I do not have to be a man of belief to appreciate this part of who I am.

You make "belief" sound like its a thing only had by people of a particular religion as if "revered spirits of the ancestors, wise and just, ancient warriors with brave deeds to their names", is not a belief in itself.

Mine is the worship of Owala, the river from which I got schistosomiasis that paralysed me from the waist down. We worship it by eating a goat. I received a message from her that anybody who poos or pisses in Owala will render their sexual bits useless and will die. I am promoting it as a belief amongst my people while I educate those who can learn.

budaatum:

You make "belief" sound like its a thing only had by people of a particular religion as if "revered spirits of the ancestors, wise and just, ancient warriors with brave deeds to their names", is not a belief in itself.

Lol. That's actually the point. It is a belief.

I do not have to be a man of belief (including that particular belief) in order to appreciate that particular belief.

You probably assumed my usage of the word 'belief' to mean a particular type of belief. No it didnt.

Mine is the worship of Owala, the river from which I got schistosomiasis that paralysed me from the waist down. We worship it by eating a goat. I received a message from her that anybody who poos or pisses in Owala will render their sexual bits useless and will die. I am promoting it as a belief amongst my people while I educate those who can learn.

lol

budaatum:

You make "belief" sound like its a thing only had by people of a particular religion as if "revered spirits of the ancestors, wise and just, ancient warriors with brave deeds to their names", is not a belief in itself.

Mine is the worship of Owala, the river from which I got schistosomiasis that paralysed me from the waist down. We worship it by eating a goat. I received a message from her that anybody who poos or pisses in Owala will render their sexual bits useless and will die. I am promoting it as a belief amongst my people while I educate those who can learn.

hucknall thought thee as was an atheist.

Interesting piece. As one gets older and garner more life experiences, one can learn to do less of "beliefs" and more of "knowledge".

Having more knowledge about life issues than beliefs could take time.

hucknall:
hucknall thought thee as was an atheist.

Don't "thought" without first checking the facts or you'd be coming up with silly statements like:

"I don't believe good atheists exist."

johnydon22:


You probably assumed my usage of the word 'belief' to mean a particular type of belief. No it didnt.

You are correct. Like Christians call themselves "believers", I assumed your usage of the word 'belief' refered specifically to that of your father.

budaatum:

Don't "thought" without first checking the facts or you'd be coming up with silly statements like:

"I don't believe good atheists exist."

sorry for the strong English up there. BTW
"I don't believe good atheists exist."

Is not in anyway silly. Never trust unbelievers they are like a time bomb. Speaking from experience.

gensteejay:
Interesting piece. As one gets older and garner more life experiences, one can learn to do less of "beliefs" and more of "knowledge".

Having more knowledge about life issues than beliefs could take time.

Its darn hard to make the inexperienced see the difference between the two I find. Especially amongst people who have been trained to see "beliefs" as "knowledge".

Experience is indeed the best teacher in this case.

hucknall:
sorry for the strong English up there. BTW
"I don't believe good atheists exist."

Is not in anyway silly. Never trust unbelievers they are like a time bomb. Speaking from experience.

The inverse of your statement above is "always trust believers", which would make me state that you have no experience whatsoever!

Have you ever met an atheist? Tell us your experience.

budaatum:

The inverse of your statement above is "always trust believers", which would make me state that you have no experience whatsoever!

Have you ever met an atheist? Tell us your experience.

hucknall makes no such statement. If you can't understand 'never trust an unbeliever' it probably because you're not a Christian to start with.

hucknall:
hucknall makes no such statement. If you can't understand 'never trust an unbeliever' it probably because you're not a Christian to start with.

I think you mean my head has not been washed in stupidity. Christianity, as far as I understand it says "love you enemy", which one can not do if one has demonized them first!

budaatum:

Don't "thought" without first checking the facts or you'd be coming up with silly statements like:

"I don't believe good atheists exist."

Lmao

Fantastic story. I was in the village in march this year for my one of my aged in-law's burial. It was a traditional burial so there were lots of meat. A cow, pigs and goats. Some of the meats were sacrificed so many 'Christians' refused to eat them. Just like you said there was lots of meat, palm wine and beer. Thank God I wont have to write a story like yours because it is one thing to have a good time with your kinsmen and it is another to do it with a clean conscience.

If i no follow you for facebook, wetin I gain?.

adoyi8:
Fantastic story. I was in the village in march this year for my one of my aged in-law's burial. It was a traditional burial so there were lots of meat. A cow, pigs and goats. Some of the meats were sacrificed so many 'Christians' refused to eat them. Just like you said there was lots of meat, palm wine and beer. Thank God I wont have to write a story like yours because it is one thing to have a good time with your kinsmen and it is another to do it with a clean conscience.

If i no follow you for facebook, wetin I gain?.

Haha

budaatum:

I think you mean my head has not been washed in stupidity. Christianity, as far as I understand it says "love you enemy", which one can not do if one has demonized them first!

Christianity is not stupidity. And hucknall didn't demonized unbelievers. hucknall only encouraged caution. BTW hucknall real enemies are not of these realm.

hucknall:
Christianity is not stupidity.

Christianity is indeed not stupid, but stupid are the Christians who demonize their neighbours just so they can hate them.

budaatum:

Christianity is indeed not stupid, but stupid are the Christians who demonize their neighbours just so they can hate them.

Ignorance is a thing here.

hucknall:
Ignorance is a thing here.

Ignorance, is indeed a thing here, a portion that those in Christ would not share.