Mark Zuckadibia Of The East
A big oracle with a very big and powerful god had just emerged in the east, threatening to swallow lesser gods in one swoop. This god from the west has captured the territorial gods who had reigned supreme since time immemorial in our lands. I just looked at the manifest of the prisoners and had been quite surprised not to have seen “Duruoshimiri, Ezeala, Igwekala on there. I had inquired from the bigger god’s cabinet and they had told me that the gods from my village missed the list by whiskers, that they were quite lucky as the prerequisite to being swallowed was the ability to read and write. They reminded me of an age long insult “ Orodo ihorinho” and begged me to thank my stars that for once, we had escaped this conquest out of our expected stupidity as a people. I had revolted, gearing for a fight when they told me that the gods from my locale still ate chickens and goats, and even drank sweet Fanta to quench taste while gods of other villages took in crisp naira notes and bottles of Azul. They asked me why my village gods were still shy and unfriendly, requesting people to turn their backs, with barefoot while in their presence while other gods in other regions loved people who looked at their gods “eyeball to eyeball”, with shoes, adorned in nice robes and ornaments, with dash of sweet smelling perfumes. They flipped a page and I saw a lot of prisoner gods from Asaba, Oba, Okija, Nando and a lot more along the banks of the Niger river. I saw a handful with red marks on them, and when I asked, I was told that those ones were still under review as they were half human, half god, they still belonged to the church. They wanted to know if my beloved Duruoshimiri or Ezeala received a Lexus or Mercedes as thanksgiving — I said no. They mentioned to me quietly that people from Orodo were not nice to their gods and custodian dibias, we had all turned a blind eye and allowed them suffer in penury. They showed me a photo album, beautiful houses on every page, all belonging to these new breed custodians, they were all conquered gods who loved the camera and drama. They were all on Facebook and I had paused to think of “Anunaebe” of Amaukwu village and wondered if I had missed seeing his mansion or none at all, then it hit me, our custodians had not learnt the new ways.
The oracles of the east were now a myth, ones that were once dreaded, were now in plain sight dancing “Skelewu” with mere mortals on the streets of Facebook. Our gods of war “mmuo anyi ji eje ogu” who helped defeat the colonial masters have now been sent to refresher courses, to learn a new trade of bestowing wealth to jobless and unemployable youths littered around our region. They have all enrolled into a master class of deception, with degrees that will finally bury the unsuspecting, who now believe that hard work was a thing of the past. Our gods are now selling wealth and prosperity in earthen pots and urns to a generation that cannot create one. “ Ichaka nmuo”, “awele” sells more in the east than books or apprenticeship.
The dibias of the south east have succumbed to the powers of god — Zuckadibia who have now bewitched each and everyone of them and had introduced them to the sacrifice of the western god — -Money. The monetization of Facebook pages had tickled the armpits of our gods and thrown all our sacred ways to the dustbins. It was all in plain sight, no mystery behind the deities, you could clearly tell who ate the chicken for sacrifice, one could even see the camera man in some instances eating the foods meant for the gods. Our gods had even ditched oracle messengers and now embraced social media influencers who were picked by their prowess in bringing more unsuspecting people to it than a true service to the gods. Money had ruined the land. The gods were no more wise. Our gods now shared glory with mere mortals. They pandered only to more likes and share buttons than justice. They craved for repost and camera time more than blood, fairness and equity. The gods now played pranks on people and even lied to them, promising what it does not have nor could offer, holding on to same standards as mere mortals who blamed all on content creation and the devil.
Ala ajola njo, we are in between the devil and the deep blue sea. It is now one day one trouble for the people of the east, for us who were once the apple of the nation.
Anyi awuola ndi eriri eri in the east.
