26/07/2023
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I saw my father yesterday, exactly one month after he diēd.
I saw his ghost sitting under the mango tree in our compound.
Seeing my father's ghost was the scariest thing I had ever encountered.
That night, the wind was blowing harshly against the windows of my room, and thunder rumbled angrily as it made way for the blue lightning that streaked the sky.
It wasn't long before rain began to pelt down lightly, rattling against the zinc of my roof.
The noises the rain made coupled with the booming sound of the thunder stirred me up from sleep.
After plying my drowsy eyes open, I remembered with alarm, that I had done my laundry the previous day and I had hung them on the thin rope in our backyard to dry.
I recalled that I didn't bring them inside in the evening and that if left, the rain would soak them.
So, I sprang up from the bed and helped by the dim glow of the oil lamp left burning on the table beside my window, I made my way forward, moving out of the room, and entering into our dark corridor.
"Mama! Nneka!" I called my mother and my sister from the corridor in case any of them had left anything outside.
"Mama! Nneka o!" I yelled more loudly and at that same time, the rain increased, pouring heavily. I assumed my mother and my sister must be in a deep sleep, and I didn't have enough time to go into their rooms to wake them as the rain was getting heavier, so I turned, and following the long corridor, I dashed out of the house to salvage my clothes from the backyard.
Our compound was a large one and getting to the backyard would take a little while, so I walked faster. I could hear the patter of rain dropping to the ground from the zinc roof.
Despite the little light produced by the starved moon, I fumbled on my steps as the whole place was dingy, making it hard for me to see.
I regretted not bringing a torch with me.
I was already close to the place where my clothes were hung in the backyard when I stumbled, startled by the sight before
