Bejide wasn't sure exactly when her small village began to change, it had not always been barren or in a state of disrepair. She often thought back to her younger days playing in the nearby woods, stealing eggs from nests of songbirds and other such youthful activities. When they were not tending to their livestock or farms, her parents would dote on her and her brother: Tabansi. The ancestors and spirits watched over their small home, protecting them from the dangers of the greater world.

Perhaps their village started to change when Ambonisye married into their village. He was the fourth son of a neighboring tribe's leader, joining their community as to strengthen the bonds between them. His newfound wife: Enyonyam, was also a middle-child of their own patriarch. Their relationship only grew as he learned the ways of medicine and rituals from their own dogon sorcerer: Gowon*. Was it here that everything changed? No, they had others join and leave the village for generations without ruination. The simple addition of one soul in of itself should not be able to bring such misfortune in of itself.

Her small town was surely still the same safe refuge it had always been when she had her first child; Tulinagwe. At the time there was much celebration and life with-in their small community, even from the newly wed Ambonisye. The constant noise and energy kept little Tulinagwe up, nearly missing out on her much-needed naps. It was far cry from what the town would become, thank the gods that her child was able to escape to their village. One day, she told herself, that she would flee to her daughter's new home, leaving her depressing surroundings. However, the day she would flee, would likely always remain something unobtainable by what little remained of her will power.

Bejide often reflected on the past, trying to ascertain as to origin of the change in the nature of her home. She recalled one specific festival; it must have been more than fifteen years ago. Her little girl had been dancing and cheering as the ancestors provided their guidance, channeled through their hallowed masks. Several of the surrounding villagers had all come together, moving together as one community to the sound of drums.

At this festival Ambonisye wore the first mask that he had created unsupervised, something both he and Enyonyam were proud of. It was crafted in the likeness of an unknown spirit, one which Gowon had never heard from before. When the aspiring sorcerer donned the mask to allow it possession of his body, none of the other spirits reacted with any sense of hostility. Their ancestors and astral guardians remained their usual selves, retaining their various personalities in presence of the new comer. No one thought to question the judgement of the ancestors, so such creature was able to infiltrate their ranks.

Ambonisye had declared that it was the spirit of Akake nla**, a great spirit of death that wandered the forests, had possessed his body and offered its protection. While some had natural hesitations about anything that approaching the subject of mortality and breaking the generally established boundaries between the afterlife, others were welcoming of their new guardian. Whatever her own feelings towards the spirit were, Bejide had to calm little Tulinagwe whenever the masker sorcerer approached them. Even as a child, she was able to sense something that she was not able to at the time.

Nothing had changed at first, aside from making additional offerings to a new guardian. Akake nla appeared not to have any specific requirements for their payment, outside of the basic requirement that it had to have been alive at one point. It was a simple task to offer unprocessed fruits, tubers and animal flesh in addition to their regular thanks. The offerings were accepted and traces of disease and illness soon faded with-in their small village, this protection was maintained through the seasons. Maybe their circumstances we not the fault of Akaka nla, instead something else was the cause. At this point Bejide could easily not tell what was reality and her dreams, as they been frequently distorted with-in her mind.

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Several years later; a neighboring village was devastated by sudden flash flooding that was only compounded by a bout of sudden disease, costing the lives of many. Tabansi and his wife volunteered to move to the unfortunate village to rebuild with their children in tow. Even now, nothing felt amiss with-in their own village. The communal generosity was still strong, helping each other in their darkest times. She cried heartfelt tears as her brother left to endure hard times rebuilding their neighbor's home, sending them off with as many supplies as they could spare.

Perhaps this was the catalyst of the eventual change with-in their own village. Gowon, even with his ever-advancing age, made regular trips to the recovering village to repair the connections with their protectors. He was often found carving the traditional idols of their guardians or preparing herbs and offerings to restore the protection of their elders. Fortunately, his apprentice Ambonisye, could manage most of his primary tasks while his attention was elsewhere. He was often praised for his diligence and skill

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She had overheard Gowon's conversations with Ambonisye, both unable to understand why their protectors had left the village exposed to the elements. Gowon had frequently communed with his ancestors, none of which could provide much in the way of answers, as if bound by some unspoken contract. His colleagues from the other surrounding villagers received similar results, all sharing the annoyed tone displayed by the spirits. Such a mystery would go unanswered, as the seasons passed and the village was restored to its former state.

During this period of reconstruction, Gowon unexpectedly passed soon after his return from the reconstruction efforts. The two men who accompanied back from his restorative efforts, carried him back home after he collapsed on the roadway, breathing heavily. It had taken several days of fevered dreams, cold sweats and drowsiness before he finally passed. Everyone in their village had stopped by, making offerings and paying their respects. His colleagues also ventured out to see him, almost instinctively knowing his time was soon to pass. He passed peacefully at dusk, surrounded by his children and those close to him.

At the time, everything still seemed normal. There were no sweeping changes as Ambonisye took on the mantle of their spiritual leader, only the noticeable absence of Gowon was felt. Was it now, free from his mentor's guidance, that Ambonisye's influence corrupted the village? It was only subtle things, such as altering the order of their regular offerings and tending to others more regularly. No one paid it much thought, as the village remained prosperous in their protected little village.

It had been two years since Gowon's passing, her child: Tulinagwe had reached puberty and talks of marriage between villages was growing more common. Under Ambonisye's spiritual guidance everything felt somewhat stagnant, as he was discovering himself in his newfound role. The other elders often provided guidance, but their advice was always dismissed in favour of his preferred spirits. He always had this way of sounding if he agreed with whatever you said, only to twist into his own desires. Bejide only noticed it upon reflection when such opportunity to address it had long been passed.

When his own child, Useni, had fallen ill, he tried every sorcery technique and incantation he could think of. However, nothing appeared to have any effect on their symptoms. Even if most of the village had grown to question his judgement, none had the heart to abandon him or speak ill of him. Visits from Gowon's former colleagues bore little fruit, as Useni's health continued to decline. Firelight and smoke could be seen each night, as he and Enyonyam did everything they could to save their son. Was it now, in his time of desperation, that something changed? Corrupting him into the twisted man he would become?

Then, Useni recovered almost overnight, it was surely a miracle brought on by the gods. Ambonisye basked in the praise given onto him by his fellow visitors, all thankful for his child's sudden turn of fate. She too was so caught up in emotion, so much so that she missed the bandages on Enyonyam's arm. something that everyone would soon come to know. The other sorcerers also joined in on the initial celebration, praising the gods for the good fortune.

With-in hours of the initial celebration shouts of anger and disbelief could be heard throughout the village, originating from a crowd in front of Ambonisye's home. The incoherent screams echoed the anger of the gathered spiritualists, each accosting the sorcerer. Bejide recalled accusations of: Dark Bargains, malicious curses and other denouncements of their sorcerer's practices. Ambonisye's response was equally as passionate, pointing at drowsy Useni hiding behind the door frame.

It all culminated in the group of sorcerers denouncing the village's only remaining practitioner. “Your blindness has doomed your Family, Ambonisye! I hope I live to see the day your cursed god betrays you! To those listening in... follow me to your salvation, for this village will only see despair under the influence of this fool! Mark my words... with-in three years … this village will be but a shadow of what it is now. May the ancestors protect the few who remain.” The more superstitious amongst them followed the outraged sorcerers, distrusting the miracle before them once they learned of its dark origins.

Bejide remained with her husband, sending off her kin with all of the warmth she could muster. Slowly their village became more isolated, as Ambonisye had been cut from the surrounding communities. Which, in turn, limited their access to any goods and produce that they were unable to create themselves. Then came the wave of sickness that washed over the village, that could only be solved with greater and greater offerings to Akake nla.

Time then became lucid, as Ambonisye's influence spread unchecked. Soon Akake Nla's will become the will of their town, channeled through his chosen avatar. His greed and lust soon grew beyond his initial desires, fuelled by the corrupting influence of his god. Their bodies had become mere tools to be used by Ambonisye and his few acolytes, becoming subject to acts she dared not speak before having her internal organs mangled for the regular offerings. Even the children were not spared, robbing them of their youthful innocence and leaving them hollow. The only reason she did not suffer similar treatment to other women in the group, was that her husband remained on good terms with the sorcerer. She wept silent tears for the families that were split up, wives being redistributed amongst the men.

Any wandering merchant was often pestered for sacrificial slaves, something which was seldom available in their area. For the sake of the slaves, she was glad that the latest pedlars did not carry them, as to save them from the same fate as the last ones. She missed the peaceful days of old, protected by their ancestors, free from whatever spell had been cast over the village. Silently she and her husband would curse their lone protector, longing for the demon to be cast from their homes.