When we came back home, my dad called us and asked why we wanted to kill him. I told him that he’s our father, why should we kill him and who would take care of us. He asked us if we wanted to deny being wizards. I told him we’re not. He asked my younger brother too, my brother denied it. He said we were lying. He got into his room and brought out a big matches and hit us on the heads. We began to cry. He continued the beating. He gave us three days to resign from witchcraft or he would kill us. Then he asked us to go to the witch coven and bring back his soul and his wife’s. I went and got two stones from the gravel heap that was meant for road tarring and burnt in the fire. They became black. I got egg from the kitchen, broke it and robbed on the stones. The following day he asked if we had completed the assignment. I brought the two stones and gave to him, but he refused to collect them and asked me to put them in a cup. He took us to a deliverance church with the stones in Uquo, Esit where we spent two weeks in that church fasting.

After we had completed the deliverance activities, the pastor told us that if our father asked if we have been delivered, we should tell him we’re now free from witchcraft. When my dad came, he showed him a small lizard and a giant maggot that he claimed we vomited. My dad paid him money and we left. After some months, my dad took us to another church for ‘diagnosis’ to ascertain if we’re still ‘flying’ out in the night. The prophet told him that we have graduated to another level, bigger than what we were. My brother told him that he was lying. He slapped my brother and father nodded his head in acceptance and said “That is what he wanted”.

Three days later, my father took us to a forest and dug a hole. He then asked us to denounce witchcraft or he would bury us alive. He cut out sticks which he used in hitting us. I told him that I was surprised that, as a prophet, he didn’t know that we have denounced witchcraft. He told me that if we’ve really denounced it, why my brother was still denying being a wizard. This is because my brother insisted that he wasn’t a wizard. After hitting my brother on the head two times, he push him into the trench he dug and started covering it with sand. When the sand got up to his neck. I started to tremble, seeing my brother being buried alive. I could not stand the sight. I cried, knelt down and begged him to accept being a wizard. I asked him if wanted to die and leave me alone. My father told me to shut up because if he died, I’ll follow suit so that I will not go and tell anyone. I turned and asked my brother if he loved me, he said yes. He finally nodded his head that he was a wizard. My dad asked him to say it loudly. He said, “Yes, I am a wizard.” My father descended on him the more with sticks hitting him on his head. I knelt down and held my father’s knees, begging him. My father dragged him out of the pit. I heaved a big sigh!

As there was no water around that area, I used leafs and my cloth to wipe the red sands on his body. My dad warned us not to tell anybody what had happened. And that if anyone asked us why there were red sands on his body, we should say that we went for rat mole hunting (which involves digging the ground). On our way back, we came across a stream on the road. He told us to go and take a bath in the stream.

After about two weeks, one of his friends came and told him that he’s seen a place to take us and keep there. He said we will wait until the wounds are completely healed. A week later, he took us to the CRARN Children Center in Eket and told the President of CRARN, Mr. Sam Itauma that we’re terrible wizards and he didn’t want us again. We were told that there’s no space in the center. My father was questioned why he wanted to abandon two children at the same time when he was able to fend for us. His friend called Mr. Itauma out with me for a private talk and told him that we were in great danger of being killed and that he should save our lives. He asked me some questions, I showed him the scars on my body. He called my brother and inspected him too and became very angry with my dad because of the horrible scars he saw. We were taken to another office in the centre, took pictures of us before giving us rooms with beds. Three children from my village who’d previously been in the same prayer houses with us came and welcomed us with their friends. We joined other children to play football that evening. I could not believe we were finally saved!

06/27/2016