Dark melodies, playing over and over all night from a nearby cottage.

Anna sat in their little farmhouse, attention fixed on Grandpa recounting dreadful tales  best left untold, and hoping that evil spirits will catch a whiff of the incense mother was burning and be warded off.

"For years she had no news of her family, never bothered to visit them until one day a bird sat on her bathroom window, singing like a wailing saxophone, of many sad incidents back home since she left..."  Grandpa mimicked the singing bird while Anna's siblings, huddled around Grandpa, joined in the chorus they've become accustomed to since the story began.

Uncle Thomas, who stood at the entrance of the farmhouse, took a long drag of his cigarette before crushing it against the wet, muddy floor and walked in, as if eager to hear how the sad tale ends.

Grandpa continued. "When she finally left in search of her family, her husband returned home from hunting to find a ready meal on his table. This continued for days until one day, he decided to hide in the woods nearby to see how a meal cooked itself in his house whenever he was away. To his utter surprise, at exactly 12 noon, the skin of an antelope he'd killed many years ago that hung on his wall suddenly turned into a woman, descended the wall, took time to prepare a delicious meal, tasted it thrice, looked around to see if someone was watching before transforming herself into the antelope hide on the wall."

Mother interrupted the storytelling session. Supper was ready. The meal was ate in silence, a choir of croaking frogs and hooting owls serving as interlude to Grandpa's drama.

The tall tale resumed. A refreshed Grandpa recounted his story with renewed energy. "A strange thought occured to him at the sight of the mystery unfolding before his eyes. The woman-antelope had the height and shape of his wife. It even moved about the house, mimicking the exact way his wife articulated her body. Only its face bore no resemblance to her. It now dawned on him that his wife had always avoided rainwater. It was unusual of him to have never found out why.

He recollected an incident just before she travelled. She stood before the mirror in their room, muttering to herself, 'Or perhaps my time has come.' That mirror was certainly no magic mirror, for he bought it himself. And besides, his wife was expecting a child. He naturally assumed she was talking about her pregnancy.

It was all strange and confusing. She's stood by him through thick and thin. He had no doubts about her love and loyalty. She was always there for him when everyone else betrayed him. There's never been the slightest hint that she might be a witch.

Strange times. He would have to wait till she came back to unravel this mystery. 

For years he waited. No sign of her return. Her tribe was a group in constant migration for greener lands to settle permanently and he didn't know where to find her. And the longer he waited, the more suspicions took up spaces in his empty heart."

By Benjamin Nambu

From: Ghana

Website: https://www.greatbenji.business.blog

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