Rami stared at Peter, doubting what her ears had just heard.
“Did you just say blood sacrifice?” Lilian asked.
Peter gulped more water. “That is the only thing that makes sense. He was acting suspicious after Aba got missing. Besides, I always thought he had ulterior motives when he came back to acknowledge the daughter he abandoned. My brother is not the good man he makes himself out to be. He is selfish and greedy. I tried to warn your mother, Ewurama, but she didn’t listen. She thought I was the one who didn’t want Hormeku to be in Aba’s life. Yes, I told him to leave her alone several times, but it was because I knew his intentions were not pure.”
Rami got up and began to pace. This was going way beyond her scope. This was entering into dangerous territory, and she didn’t know what to do.
Trying to stay calm, she returned to her seat. “Uncle Peter, it’s not that I don’t believe you. But what you’re saying now is so unexpected. So I need to ask. Why do you think this is what he did with my sister? A shrine and blood sacrifice are so out there.”
Peter nodded. “I understand why it’s hard to believe. I will explain everything for you to understand.
About ten years ago, when I was still normal, my brother fell dangerously sick. He threw up every food he ate and was screaming in constant pain even though there were no visible wounds. We tried several hospitals, and all scans and lab tests came back negative. So we turned to the church, but still nothing. Nobody could help him. So I took him to our hometown to see a herbal doctor with a spiritual calling. She was the one who told us, his wife and I, what was going on with him. Several years earlier, he had gone to the Nokalu Shrine to seek greener pastures. They gave him avenues to make money on one condition. He was to return after ten years to perform a gratitude ritual which also required him to serve at the shrine for a year or sacrifice a blood relative’s freedom to do it. The herbal doctor gave him a temporary fix — enough to give him enough strength to return to Nokalu to do what needed to be done. Within twenty-four hours, Hormeku was fit as a fiddle. It was as if he were never sick. Everyone said it was a miracle. His wife Martha and I were the only ones who knew what had actually happened and what needed to be done. When I asked him what he intended to do, he told me that he needed some time to prepare for what he needed to do. After one week, my brother called me to his house. He told me he had spoken to his wife, and they had agreed that he could not sacrifice any of his children’s freedom, so he would take that one year off to serve in the shrine. After all, it was his cross to bear. He told me that he was leaving his family and his businesses in my care and gave me access to a Stanbic account, which he indicated had money for anything I would need during his absence. The plan was to tell everyone else that he was going to the US for a year. He said goodbye to his family, and I drove him to Nokalu to drop him off. I was to pick him up again in a year. Although most people call Nokalu a shrine, Nokalu is more than one single shrine. It is like a small community with a gate, and inside, there are old buildings and smaller shrines. When we arrived, we were met by a server who was waiting for us. He took us through several rooms. It was very quiet, although there were a few people going in and out of buildings and shrines. Nobody spoke on the compound. At first, I thought it was strange that I was the one washing my feet and hands and going through certain processes. He assured me that it was because it was my very first time at the shrine, and he had gone through a similar process when he had first come there. The real reason was sinister, and I never suspected a thing. Up until then, I thought my brother was a good man – selfish and a little greedy since we were kids, but a good man nonetheless.”
He paused, looking bleak and teary. “I was such a fool.”
He didn’t talk for a few seconds, and Lilian brought him another bottle of water, which he gulped down. He looked exhausted, sad and older than Rami had ever seen him.
“What happened, Uncle Peter?” Rami asked when he didn’t continue his story. She already knew where this was going, and it was making her distressed and anxious about Aba.
“We finally entered a small room where a priest was, and he asked my brother, “Is he the one?”
My brother answered yes, and stepped back. I still didn’t understand what was going on until I felt arms grab me from behind.”
He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the memories of the unexpected betrayal. When he opened them again, they were bleak.
“Unbeknownst to me, my brother had gone earlier to renegotiate the terms of his agreement with them. He sent me there as a blood sacrifice instead. And because I had walked in by myself, even though I didn’t fully know what I was getting myself into, I had signed myself over by performing all those rites when we entered Nokalu.”
“That is so diabolical,” Rami gasped, shocked despite knowing what was coming as Peter told his story.
Lilian was speechless. She had met Mr Hormeku a couple of times, and throughout this situation, it had been hard to reconcile the quiet, good-natured man she had seen to the demonic man who sacrificed his brother and returned to the life of the daughter he denounced to sacrifice her to save himself.
“What happened afterward?” Lilian asked, wanting to know how Peter went from being sacrificed to becoming a drunkard.
“When I realised what was happening, I began to struggle, but it was to no avail. My brother told me calmly that he had negotiated with the priest and was using me to save himself and also create more wealth. He could not use his children for it. Besides, they were too young. And there was no way he could spend the year there himself; his life was much more important than mine. I stood there, shocked and dumbfounded, as the brother I had spent months trying to help gave me over without any remorse. They were going to take me through three trials of rituals. I would either die or come out of it mad. Those were the options I was told I had. What my brother didn’t know was that the herbal doctor I had sent him to – the one who gave him the temporary healing – had seen something sinister in my brother and offered me some protection. She had given me some herbs, which she had said were for cleansing — to ensure that I didn’t get any aftereffects from my brother’s curse. I had no idea at the time that it was for protection against my brother, so I didn’t even tell him about it. Because of that cleansing, the sacrifice did not work. I don’t remember exactly what was done, because I was delirious. I only remember waking up weak and confused. The sacrifice had backfired because I could not die by my brother’s hand. It would kill him too. My life had been tethered to his such that he could not harm me without feeling the effects of some of it.
But since he had already negotiated new terms to save his life, they couldn’t just take him either. In the end, he negotiated for ten more years to come up with a new solution. Until then, the workaround was my sobriety. So I became a drunkard while my brother made more money and found a new victim to be sacrificed in his stead.”
“My sister,” Rama whispered.
“Yes, your sister. That’s why I warned your mother when he came back looking for your sister, but she misunderstood my intentions. I don’t blame her though. Who would listen to the words of a drunkard over a successful do-gooder like my brother?” he ended bitterly.
