by Immanuel James

Some months ago, a Faceboook friend shared the photo of a little boy he found begging on the streets of Victoria Island, Lagos. He was not mad, little Bassey. Having been certified a ‘witch’ back home in Calabar, he was driven to Lagos and disgorged on the streets, rejected by his parents and family. It had been difficult coming to terms with the callousness of Bassey’s family, until encounter was made of the story of a 22-year-old lady, recently.

Her name is Ifeoma. I withhold her surname. No, not for her anonymity. She doesn’t appear to have a surname, technically speaking. A surname ought to denote family, kinship, and social identity. Applying a surname to an individual denied all these elements, is indeed a moral dilemma on its own.

In the course of a casual discussion, a friend had mentioned the story of a young lady in St. Daniel’s Hospital, in the Oworonshoki area of Lagos. She had been confiscated by the hospital management for nonpayment of medical bills, Ifeoma. Three days earlier, she had collapsed at a bus stop, and was rushed to the hospital by sympathetic passers-by.

Ifeoma’s mother had died while giving birth to her. Her father slumped and died upon hearing the news! Her family rejected her, claiming she was a cursed child, and she was taken into care by an orphanage. She had lived in that orphanage until her only sibling, her brother, came for her some years ago. But no one has ever heard from the young man, believed to have travelled out to some unknown  country.

Her brother’s long absence had driven her into the homes of one relative after the other, where she had been poorly received for being a “cursed child.” No one wants to have anything to do with her. And as if by the conspiracy of fate, she had been very unlucky with her own efforts to find meaning in life – and that, as far as her haters are concerned, further highlights the point of her curse!

I discussed her story with Chinyere Anokwuru, who runs an NGO for women and girls empowerment. She was interested in Ifeoma, and we sought to establish contacts with her. An emissary was sent to the hospital but she had been discharged by the time he got there.  Her relatives had first refused to pay the bill but after they paid, they warned her not to return to their home where she had been squatting. She had been living with them but was driven out basically upon charges of spiritual curse, and was received by another relative, a lady, who haboured her only for one night before she collapsed at the bus-stop. Her new host was uncomfortable with the collapse drama and after Ifeoma came out of the hospital, New Host told her to leave her house: she also had confirmed that Ifeoma was cursed, else why would she collapse after spending just a night in her house?

Ifeoma’s mother had died while giving birth to her. Her father slumped and died upon hearing the news! Her family rejected her, claiming she was a cursed child, and she was taken into care by an orphanage. She had lived in that orphanage until her only sibling, her brother, came for her some years ago. But no one has ever heard from the young man, believed to have travelled out to some unknown  country.

New Host told the young man we sent who had traced her out, to stay away from the matter, else Ifeoma would bring trouble upon him too; that Ifeoma had been a problem to others all her life. That she is demon-possessed, had refused to go to church, and had been wishing to die – which, for her, also validated the curse theory. Obviously she did not understand the symptoms of depression.

With nowhere to call home, no family, no hope, Ifeoma has since wandered into the streets of Lagos. New Host insists she had deleted Ifeoma’s phone number, perhaps to rid herself completely of any contamination or links with a witch.

This is what happens in a society where ignorance is fashionable, even arrogant. If there is anyone to be diagnosed of prenatal curse in this matter, it is every adult human in this story who believes a child was born cursed – who has promoted that prejudice to blight a young lady’s chances to have a meaningful life.

Ifeoma is the metaphor for many social deviants on the streets of Nigeria, from sex workers to street urchins. She and Bassey pollute the conscience of a nation with no social services for the poor. They expose the internal contradictions in culture and religion as institutions of human advancement. They highlight the capability of poverty and ignorance to produce monsters from humans, and imbue those monsters with claims of morality.

Meanwhile, does the Nigerian state have the moral right to criminalise suicide, when it runs a system that makes suicide appealing to the depressed?

We need a robust welfare system. We need enforcement against persons who designate children as witches as wizards. We need Nollywood to de-emphasise obsession with supernatural fictions, seeing how such movies find psychological embrace in the illiterate poor. We need a more secular approach in our quest to understand the world and unravel mysteries. The universe is larger than the apertures through which we view reality, larger than the limitations of culture and religion.

Until we accept a broader view of the world, we will continue to have avoidable problems. It is a shame what contributions we make to the pool of news in a world driven by technological and scientific conquests. It is a shame how we perpetuate the external denigration of Africa with stories like these. All these have to stop.

By the way,  do we ever bother to ask why witches and all such supernatural stories are so prevalent in the illiterate poor – especially in developing nations?

———————

Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.