Akata Witch

She found Chichi outside her hut smoking a Banga cigarette. When she saw Sunny, she smiled.

“I did it! I turned invisible!” Sunny exclaimed, jogging up to her. She started shaking uncontrollably. “I did something called Etuk Nwan.” She laughed, tears falling from her eyes. Chichi took her hand and led her to the side of the road.

“Take a deep breath,” she said, smiling.

Gradually, Sunny calmed down. “You really need to stop smoking those,” Sunny said, wiping her eyes. “Ever heard of lung cancer?”

“They relax me,” she said. “Maybe you need one.”

She shook her head. “No way. Nasty.”

“How many chittim did you get?” Chichi asked.

“I don’t know! I had to leave them in front of my bedroom door. Where does chittim come from anyway? And who drops it?”

“What I wonder is where does it go? You know, after a period of time, all chittim returns to where it came from.” She shrugged. “I guess these are not our questions to ask, really. Just our facts to accept.”

“Hey, you made it,” Orlu said, coming out of the gates of his house.

Sunny smiled and nodded.

“You guys ready?” Sasha said from right behind her. She yelped. Sasha laughed hard. He slapped hands with Chichi, who said, “Nice one.”

This time, they didn’t take a cab to Anatov’s hut. Instead, they took the strangest vehicle Sunny had ever seen. It looked like a combination of a large semitruck, a mammy wagon, and a bus. Chichi called the colorfully decorated thing a “funky train,” and they caught it on the main street.

“Just ignore the smell,” Chichi said as they climbed on.

Inside were rows and rows of beat-up red plush seats. Almost all were occupied. Sunny and Chichi sat on one side, while Sasha and Orlu sat closer to the front.

There was no roof, but when the vehicle moved, the smell of sweat, perfume, cologne, stock fish, and cooking oil hung in the air, thick and oppressive. The open top also didn’t dilute the loud hip-hop that played from huge speakers in the back, or the raucous laughter and conversation of the passengers, most of whom were their parents’ age.

Then there was Sunny’s sneezing. It started almost as soon as she sat down. And the sneezes were hard and consistent. She sneezed for the entire ride. When they finally got off, her eyes were red and her nose was sore from blowing. The driver felt so sorry for her that he only charged her one small gold chittim instead of two.

“You were sneezing like that in Anatov’s hut, too,” Chichi said. “I think you’re sensitive to juju powers. The train is filthy with it.” Sunny’s only response was to sneeze again.

She was still sniffling when they walked up to Anatov’s hut. It was lit with bright halogen lamps that smoked with and smelled of burning insects. There were several sticks of incense burning, but this time she didn’t sneeze. No juju power used in them this time, she guessed.

“Sit,” Anatov said. Tonight, he wore a blue, green, and yellow dashiki and long jean shorts.

They sat in the wicker chairs before his wicker throne. Sunny honked one more time into her tissue, sighed, and sank tiredly into her chair. It was quite comfortable. She looked at the decorated walls and spotted something. She frowned and squinted. Her eyes widened and she grabbed Chichi’s arm and pointed. “What the hell is that?” she asked. It looked like a red grasshopper the size of her hand.

“It’s a ghost hopper,” Orlu whispered. “They’re harmless.”

“You sure?” she asked. Then she blinked, realizing something. “I saw one of those at my house!”

“You could do a lot worse. Some people would love to have those instead of what they have.”

“There are more, aren’t there?” she said. “More creatures I can see now?” A tiny bronze chittim fell into her lap. She picked it up and smiled.

“Millions,” Orlu said.

“You should see the night birds in Chicago,” Sasha said. “I went up to the Sears Tower one night, that’s where you can see a lot of them. They look like small dragons.”

“No way!” she said. She’d been to the top of the Sears Tower once. It was beautiful up there.

Anatov threw himself dramatically into his throne and looked at his students. “Welcome to Leopard school, Sunny,” he said.

“Yeah, welcome,” Orlu said.

“Welcome,” Sasha said.

“It’s about time,” Chichi said.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing. “I’m glad to be here.”

Anatov clapped his hands together and grinned devilishly. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “how did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“I met your parents,” he said. “I stopped by and said hello to your mother in her office at the hospital and your father at his law firm.”

“You went to see them?” She was horrified.

“Chatted with your father a bit, pretended to be one of your mother’s old patients. Intelligent, hardworking folk. But strict. Especially your mother. So how did you get out?”

“I’m albino,” she said with a sarcastic smirk. “I’m practically a ghost. What ghost can’t sneak out of a house?”

Anatov laughed. “You don’t know how close you are to the truth. At least in your very specific case. But really, how did you do it?”

“She worked an Etuk Nwan,” Chichi burst out. “From her free agent book. Isn’t that great?”

“The book said it was one of the easiest charms,” Sunny said.

“Yeah, for someone with experience,” Chichi added.

Anatov cocked his head. “What kind of sheep head did you use?”

“Well, the lady at the market looked at me like I was crazy when I asked about the ebett, the sleeping antelope. So I just got a regular sheep head.”

Anatov laughed. Even Sasha and Chichi snickered. “Yes, I strongly doubt you’ll find an ebett’s head in your local Lamb market,” Anatov said. “An ebett is an albino sheep that can sleep so deeply it gradually becomes invisible. Its spirit goes to the spirit world until it wakes. You’d never find one in a Lamb market.”

“So why’d the charm work, then?” she asked.

“You answered your own question,” Anatov said. “You’re albino. I thought you read that beginner book.”

“I did. But it’s fresh. I’m still processing-”

“Reread chapter four,” he said. “The one about one’s abilities.”

She nodded.

“I would ask these three to tell you about their abilities so you’ll get it, but it’s hard for people to talk about their own ‘bad’ qualities,” Anatov said.

“But the book said Leopard People are proud of their imperfections,” Sunny said, hoping to sound as if she knew something.

“Lesson one,” Anatov said. “And this is for all of you. Learn how to learn. Read between the lines. Know what to take and what to discard. Sunny, we don’t teach as the Lambs do. Books will be part of your learning but experience is important, too. You’ll all be sent out to see for yourselves. So you have to know how to learn. For example, that book Fast Facts for Free Agents.” He spat the title as if he had little respect for it.

“It was written by a woman named Isong Abong Effiong Isong, one of the most knowledgeable Leopard People of all time, of the world. She passed the fourth level. The problem was, for her learning experiences, she chose to move to Europe and then America, where she thought the truly civilized ideas were being knitted.”