African Horror & the Equality of Autumn Equinox

Hello, my wonderful readers and supporters!

Here’s wishing you all a happy September 2022. In case you didn’t know, September is my birthday month. My entry into the world happened on Autumn Equinox, the 22nd of September, to be precise. For those of you who may not know the significance of Autumn Equinox, it is the day the sun shines directly on the equator, ensuring both the northern and southern hemispheres get equal amounts of sun rays. The word, Equinox, means “equal” and “night” in Latin. So, on Autumn Equinox, day and night are approximately equal in length.

The important word here is equal; equality, fairness, balance, and justice. It is little wonder that justice finally prevailed when the last hanging of those convicted of witchcraft in Salem USA, occurred on 22nd September. Equality also triumphed on a 22nd September date, which became the first day of the French First Republic and the abolition of the oppressive monarchy.

On a September 22nd date, Abraham Lincoln issued the preliminary Emancipation Proclamation which stated that “All Persons held as slaves within any state…shall be then thenceforward, and forever free…” Also, on another 22nd September day, the South African Council of Churches published a report condemning apartheid as a false faith, hostile to Christian beliefs. Finally, on 22nd September, 1877, Rudolf Virchow, the great German physician and anthropologist, known as “the father of modern pathology”, (who named such diseases as Leukemia, Spina Bifida, Thrombosis, Embolism, etc) delivered his anti-Darwinian speech, criticising Darwin’s racist theory of evolution. He called Darwin an ignoramus, and Darwin’s theory of the superiority of the Aryan race, nothing more than “Nordic mysticism”.

These are just a few of the momentous September 22nd events that enshrined the tenets of equality, justice, and fairness in mankind’s timeline of history. So, being born on this special date is something I’m very proud of, and if anyone out there was born on the 22nd of September, do give me a holler; let’s celebrate together😊 We are truly blessed.

Autumn Equinox is also very significant for many cultures around the world and is celebrated one way or another with various festivals and special holidays. From the “Akan Festival” in Ghana, where the ancestral spirits are invoked and venerated, to the Mexican “Snake of Sunlight” and the British gatherings at Stonehenge, Autumn Equinox is an important global event. I blame my birth date on Autumn Equinox for my obsession with justice, fairness, and equality…no, that’s not why I studied law by the way. That’s another story for another day 😊

Bonasera the undertaker, made the famous quote, “I believe in America”, in one of my all-time favourite movies, The Godfather. Those who have watched the famous film know exactly what the quote means, its link to justice, fairness, equality, and ultimately, vengeance. My personal quote is, “I believe in Karma; I believe in ‘an eye for an eye’ and in some cases, ten eyes for an eye”. This belief is a theme that runs strongly through my African horror stories. There are also themes of forgiveness and restitution in my stories, but only after revenge has crushed my deserving antagonists with its iron claws and spiked, metal feet.

In my African horror novel, The Sleepless, the themes of justice and vengeance run deep throughout the narrative. The child victims of adult cruelty get their revenge, albeit a supernatural vengeance. In the story, my child protagonist, Obelé, has just been taken by her father and his mistress, Abundance, to a witchdoctor’s shrine to be killed in a ritualistic rite that would enable Abundance to have a son for her father. But before she is killed, she’s saved by her new friends, the ghosts of other little girls murdered by adults. Below is an excerpt from The Sleepless for those who have never read the book. It’s my birthday gift to you, today :)

(The Sleepless - excerpt)

Obelé saw what the witchdoctor saw, what Papa and Abundance saw; The Ghost Girls, beautiful in their scaly nakedness, their shiny skin as grey as ash, green eyes glowing in the night, sharp teeth white as death. This time they came in multitudes, in their tens. They lit up the night with their spectral glow, illuminating everything with terrifying clarity. They blocked the entrance to the hut, giggling, laughing. Water dripped from their skin, forming a steady stream that flowed into the hut. In seconds, the compound was transformed into a swamp. The buried cats howled as water covered their heads. The Ghost Girls giggled louder at the plight of the cats.

The Dibia stumbled back, slipping on muddy water, dropping the cat and his machete. The cat scuttled away with a loud yowl. The giggling wraiths advanced towards the Dibia, their movement fluid, ghastly. The phosphorous glow followed them like a bright shadow, a hovering cloak of brilliance. Some of them crawled, their arms like crabs, even spiders. Others flew, floating around the Dibia, hovering over his head like birds of prey. Soon, they formed a ring around him and began to dance. Obelé knew what would follow; the circle of torment. She had witnessed that ghastly ritual multiple times inside the drenched bedroom of Ike Okoye’s cursed house. Except the victims then were ghosts. This time, it was a living victim. She steeled herself for what she knew was coming.

The Ghost Girls began singing the familiar tune, The Sleepless song. Their voices echoed in the forest, disincarnate, chilling. They pulled the Dibia’s hair and bit into his skin, staining their teeth red. They carved deep marks on his skin, their claw-like fingers wet with his blood. Nails, stones, sticks and broken glasses drew patterns of agony across the medicine-man’s body. The little spectre, Promise, she of the Nwa mulu-amu fame, reached out and snapped the carved cat charm from the old man’s neck. The witchdoctor shrieked, arms flaying, trying to ward them off, slicing through empty air. He fell to the ground, next to the three buried cats, babbling, incoherent with terror. The girls giggled, their laughter gleeful, chilling.

Abundance screamed and ran towards Papa. She didn’t make it. The Mambas struck, felling her to the ground. Their fangs sank into Abundance’s legs. Twin assassins, they plunged a rapid succession of bites, their movements aggressive, swift and deadly. Abundance screamed, scrabbling on hands and knees towards Papa, who was rooted to his spot like a stone statue. The Mambas raised their heads and struck again, this time on Abundance’s naked thighs and arms. Over and over, their heads dived, piercing her skin, dumping lethal venom into her bloodstream.

Abundance’s movements grew sluggish, heavy, tortured. Terror and pain glazed her pupils. She opened her mouth and Obelé gasped, staggering back. A black protrusion that was once a tongue, crawled from Abundance’s mouth, the size of an orange, swollen beyond reality. She struggled to speak but all that came out was a low grunt. Abundance began frothing, her mouth covered in thick white foam. Her arms and knees collapsed underneath her as she lay twitching, convulsing like the epileptic boy in Obelé’s classroom, the one they called Ike Nwanyi, because he trembled like a fat woman’s buttocks when the sickness hit him.

The Mambas raised their great heads and stared at Papa. They looked at him with deadly intelligence, the way a human would look at another, enemy to enemy. Then they turned and slithered back into the forest, leaving the dying body of Abundance by Papa’s feet.

The exit of the snakes seemed to send a secret signal to the Ghost Girls. They broke their circle of torment and abandoned the witchdoctor on the water-logged ground of his compound. They flitted towards Papa, who looked as if he was about to die. Papa stumbled back, turning to flee.

The wraiths were in front of him, their eerie light illuminating the night. He screamed and turned a different direction. They blocked his escape. Each way Papa turned, the Ghost Girls awaited him, their scaly faces cold, their giggles gone. Obelé had never seen them look so icy… so dead. Soon, they started forming the familiar circle around Papa. The Sleepless song returned to their lips.

Papa was trapped within their circle. He crouched on the ground shaking, blubbering. His eyes darted around, his face drenched in sweat. Obelé smelled the rank odour of urine coming from him. Something painful pierced her heart. Despite everything, he was Papa, strong fearless Papa. It didn’t look right to see him reduced to such a pathetic sight. Her chest constricted. Tears filled her eyes.

(End of excerpt)

My last novel published in 2017, Dead Corpse, narrates the deadly vengeance of a powerful medicine woman, when her only daughter, a young albino girl, is murdered by a corrupt politician and her body parts harvested for evil money rituals. And now, after five long years, my next novel, A Dance for the Dead, will finally make its debut…yeeess!!! This novel is also centred around the themes of equality, justice, fairness and vengeance. Ghosts of people killed as a result of prejudice and injustice, exact their due revenge. Once again, equality and justice reign. The blurb description goes, “A Dance for The Dead is a chilling African-horror tale of sibling betrayal, dark rituals, malevolent curses, and supernatural vengeance”.

While the paperback is yet to be released, a special edition hardback copy has already been published by STYGIAN SKY MEDIA, and now available for pre-orders from their website (Click Here) Do grab your copy if you can and I hope that you, my dear and valued readers, will enjoy this long-delayed return of African Horror.

So, as the Autumn equinox draws close, please reflect on the state of the world we live in and the great equalities and injustices that divide us as humans. Let’s look into our hearts, our communities, and our lives, and see if there are things we can do, no matter how little, to eradicate hate, discrimination, injustice, and inequality. Everything begins with our thoughts. Let us, therefore, be less judgemental and more embracing of differences. Let us be kinder to our fellow humans and all the creatures that share the universe with us. Let us be respectful to each other and our great universe that hosts us. Let equality reign; but not solely in the pages of horror fiction. Rather, let it reign in our everyday lives. Happy autumn solstice to you all!

Please check your inbox for further updates about my journey with A DANCE FOR THE DEAD, and as promised, I’ll not spam you or bombard you beyond my monthly update😊 As ever, beaming you all light and health. May the universe eternally surround you all with kind people xx