— for all the priests with passwords to the afterlife —

Uncle Priest came again today…
His staff rattling louder than common sense.
He wiped his mouth,
Licked his lips
Like a lizard before prophecy
And said:

“Your father is stranded…
At the border between Ogbomosho
and the Underworld!”

“What happened?” we asked.

He looked around…
Lowered his voice
Like a goat in labor
and whispered:

“He has no lamp!
He is walking in shadows!
How can a respectable elder
Enter the realm of ancestors
With empty hands and no kerosene?”

So…
We paid.

Three days later,
He returned
In red!
Chest puffed
Like a cock who swallowed a whistle.

He chewed kola.
He chewed lies.

“My children,” he said,
“Your mother has joined a dance group
But she has no aso ebi!

“The spirits are wearing lace!
But your mother?
She’s still in the wrapper
She died in!”

We sighed.
We paid again.

How can we shame her?
What if Sango’s daughter
Mocks her at the entrance?

Last week,
He arrived
Sweating and sweet-talking,
Like a mango
Rotting on one side.

He said:

“Your father wants to build a small hut
By the ancestral river
But the land tax is due!
And the landlord?
Ehn! He is not a patient ghost.”

We gave again.
Better a foolish child
Than a father made homeless in heaven.

This morning he came
Dragging a raffia bag
That reeked… fraud.

He wore a cassock
Stitched from contradictions.
His breath smelt like
Palmwine and parables.

He said:

“Your mother is at a wedding
In the spirit world.
She must spray money!

The bride…
is Efunsetan’s cousin’s niece!
In fact…
Fela is already tuning his sax!
You know what that means?”

We nodded.
What can we do?

He added:

“You want them to call her
‘Spirit church rat’?”

We paid again.
Because in this land,
Foolishness is sacred
When your parents are involved.

Uncle Priest will come again next week.
We know.

He will say our father needs a generator.
Or that the rain in the spirit world
Is leaking their roof.

Or that the ancestors
Are organizing elections,
And our mother
Must buy campaign wrappers.

We…
Will pay.
Again.
And again.
Because love is a debt
Without receipt.

We…
Will pay.
Again.
And again.
Because in Africa
The child carries shame
So the parent may wear honour!

We…
Will pay.
Again.
And again.
Because we know
He is lying—
But let him lie!

A goat that honours its parents
Will one day dine with kings.