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8/3/2019 Strange Occurence Strange Night
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Years after, the house of Hadja Saniya was graying and the paint on the walls subsided that
there was an apparent darkness everywhere. When night comes, the darkness is more
pronounced as silence complements the general dimness. The smell of old wood always lay
heavy upon my nose that every smell of wood reminds me of the house. Dirt stuck to the
decades old walls invites me always to stare at them and I reckoned then that the dark
stains on them formed the shapes of men and other unlikely beings. The house was alive Ithought then and it breathes into our lives every moment we happened to be there. In the
night, these shadows become sharper that I thought I saw the shade of an old woman
always while the lights are out and I lay there trying to find sleep, turning in my bed while
cuddled inside heavy fabric, sweating profusely from fear of shadows.
I would sweat so heavily from warmth as I resisted the terrifying shadows of an old woman
sitting just at the foot of my bed. There were times that the fear ate so much into me that I
screamed and cried in the middle of the night. My father thought I was just missing my
grandfather that at midnight, they would deliver me to my Uncle Mameng's house nearly
ten kilometers away.
Of course, I would have to be back with my mother when school finally opened. The
shadows finally came at lesser frequency and besides sleeping together with my brothers
kept me somewhat reassured. If that old woman would strangle me, at least I would not be
the only one to be strangled.
I could not tell if those shadows were really ghosts or spirits but I felt so sure that they
breathe a life and they were unmistakably the shape of human beings.
My real sighting of a ghost came years later when I was just about ten or eleven years old. I
could remember some particulars as I relate this to you now. It was near midnight, on one
weekend, when most of the members of our household stayed wide awake to watch a
television special; it was a late night movie if I am not mistaken.
Usually when the night comes, I had felt dutiful always to check the back door if they were
safely locked and shut tightly. That night, before I sat to watch the show, I reconnoitered
the kitchen and locked the door after reassuring that every chore in the kitchen has been
done. As the show started, I felt a strong urge to relieve myself that I headed for the
comfort room, situated just to the left of the kitchen. As I turned towards the direction of
the kitchen, I saw a figure of a woman in white gown, with her hair down to her knees,
walked pass the hall leading to the kitchen.
Is someone still in the kitchen?" I asked.
"Everyone is here. Why?" my Aunt Coney responded.
"I just saw a woman in white walked by in the kitchen hall!" I exclaimed.
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"Do not kid us like that." She warned.
"Really, I did saw a woman"
We all stared at each other and after a moment, we all scurried for the main bedroom.
Everyone was blaming me for playing some wicked game on them and I kept on denying
them.
"It must be your imagination." they all indicted me.
Half an hour later, we were back in front of the television while I was feeling so sick already
from fear. I had no choice but to join them in the living room otherwise I would be alone in
the room.
While the television was glaring, a sudden wind blew forcefully from the window and rain
poured instantaneously as rumbling thunder shook the house. It was just another bad
weather, as we disregarded the weather's tumult and stay stuck to the television show.
Perhaps the wind was so whipping that small bits of stones were thrown at our direction,
entering thru the window.
"Damn it. Someone is throwing stones at us," Coney said and we all peered into the window
to investigate the malefactor and we find exactly nobody outside as more bits of stone came
at us. The sound of thunder became extremely forceful that the lights went out. By this
time, I could already feel the fear that had enveloped not only me, but also the rest of them;
fear has a smell I realized that moment. In the middle of the living room, a small whirlwind
was lifting the small stones towards the ceiling in a circular motion and while the stones
circled above ground, the wind suddenly stopped and the bits of stone fell simultaneously
to the ground. We all screamed and run to the bedroom.
It was strange that the day after, no matter how patently strange the experience we had the
night before, everyone was merely jesting about it while Hadja Saniya simply dismissed it
as the playful imagination of our minds, us who were still tender in the head. She was deep
in slumber when the strange happenstance occurred. Even those who were present in that
strange occurrence simply forgot about it, never mentioning it again. My Aunt Coney just
did not talk about it. My brothers Nasrullah and Akmad and my sister Rimaisa just went to
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the yards and play the usual games, as if nothing happened. If I remember well, my cousin
Nimfa and Mernisa was present then and similarly, they never took it so seriously despite
the common terror we had felt that night. In contrast, that unusual night were etched
forever in my mind.
The eldest who was there was Aunt Coney. I had expected her to convince the others thatsome spirits really played fun on us but she acted as if the strange night was merely a usual
occurrence, and did go on with the ordinary chores, as if nothing happened, as if she was
expecting such things to happen ordinarily. After that night in fact, she had slowly gained
isolation from the rest of us, at least it was how I have observed her to be. She would walk
along and would give me that iniquitous stare that I felt somehow uncomfortable that she
had suddenly become so mindful of my presence that she would shout at me easily if for
example I happened to touch the expensive jar in the living room.
I reckoned that she had blamed me for that strange occurrence in that one strange night.
(An excerpt from my unfinished novel A Prophets Life)