Science constantly aims to give an answer to every occurrence, but some things remain mysteries. The rainy season runs between April and October in this part of the world, with the majority of people preferring the aforementioned season.
Life seems to resume during the raining season with nature eagerly reflecting its green beauty to be beholden. Though the rain could make the ground slippery, the weather is usually chilling, dishing out the scent of rain as a pleasing aroma to our hesitant nostrils. My family compound had its fair share of greens; we loved the big space and ensured arrays of fruits such as mango, orange, guava, pawpaw, coconut, grape, bananas, and occasionally jute leaves during the rainy season.
Hello, son, how are you doing?" My dad had called out of the blue during the dry season sometime in January this year, as he spends most of his time at the village now, being elderly and a chieftain title holder.
"I am fine, sir," I replied.
"Are there trees in the compound that have dried off? My dad continued. This shocked me immediately because three of the trees in the compound had mysteriously dried up. Initially, we thought perhaps it was the weather; however, the dryness was different and the first of its kind, as we had lived in this compound since thirteen years ago.
"Yes sir." I replied, shocked and a bit scared. He had been away for about two years, and the few of us in the compound had not disclosed such an occurrence to him or any other person.
"Alright, make sure nobody cuts the dried trees; Ladi (a spiritual attack in the Nupe tribe here in Nigeria, believed to be superstitious) has been thrown at them." He said that and ended the conversation afterwards.
A cold chill ran through my spine immediately. I was worried we had been attacked spiritually, for Africa has a significant belief in matters relating to spiritual forces. I called my younger sister and informed her of dad’s call, and ever since then, we have lived in the compound like strangers, avoiding the trees we had planted. The three trees that dried were the guava trees. Guavas are scarce to come by in recent times, and it has always been a thing of pride to gift people the guava fruits. One of the first batches of trees to dry off fell by itself; I can’t remember what was done to the branches since I do not stay at home often.
In recent times, the three orange trees and the grape have equally dried off, even as it is raining season. My dad has been around for some weeks now and has insisted that the trees be left untouched. We had an alternative consultation last week, and we were told that we could cut the trees but not use them as firewood to cook.
"You can cut the trees, but do not use them to cook." An uncle of ours informed us after we explained the situation to him.
This again leaves us with the mystery of touching the dried trees or not. I have not seen nearby trees in the neighborhood experience such dryness, ruling out the possibility of soil contamination. Would the remaining mango, coconut, pawpaw, and moringa trees in the compound be affected? This evening, I had to pack up fallen oranges from one of the dried orange trees. Soon enough, the orange tree would dry off and maybe, with time, follow the pattern of those that fell off.
IMAGE CREDIT IS MINE