Every year it's a norm in my husband's house for all the children to celebrate Christmas in the village and my husband has been doing that even before marrying me. But these visits are trouble and I wish I can decide not to go without incurring the wrath of my in-laws, see there is never a year we go to the village and don't come back with problems. It's either we come back arguing or things start falling apart and we'll have to go through series of prayers before things get back to normal.
Even my mom have warned me to stop going to the village especially when we were still trying to conceive, according to her, "if each time you come back from the village you get overload of problems it's an attack" but my husband would hear none of it, "if there's an attack it's from you or are you saying my parents are fetish?".
The matter usually dies there, when after 3 years of trying to conceive and getting evil stares sent at my tummy each time we go to the village, I finally conceived, that was around October and by the time we were preparing to go home for Christmas I wasn't showing but just to be safe I told my mom.
My pastor prayed for me and promised to keep me in his prayers. We arrived the village at the 20th of Dec and my husband's aunt immediately congratulated me, I was surprised by just smiled and said thank you so as not to draw other's attention, that night, I had a dream.
In the dream, I was holding a clay money bank(kolo), as I was shaking it happily while hearing the kom kom sound the money inside it made, a force snatched it from me and broke it (I saw no one but it came off my hand my force). I bent down and started picking up the shattered pieces in tears, I woke up sweaty and in tears.
I immediately called my pastor who gave me some instructions and said at midnight (from 12, I shouldn't sleep but pray till 2) that night, after doing so much work, I prayed a little and around 12:15 I slept off.....
I woke up with a start(I don't know what woke me) and felt the room got cold as if there was a presence there, that was it, I silently started reciting a bible verse (Isaiah 54:17) while shivering in fear and in tears. I shook my husband but he just turned and kept snoring.
That night I scaled through, for the rest of my days in the village, I watched what I ate, the water I drank and made sure I prayed for 4 hours in the midnight before sleeping.
All these I went through silently because hubby wouldn't believe me if I told him, on the 27th of December I packed my bags and told hubby I have to attend my antenatal this week, he had no choice than to follow me even before travelling.
Inside the bus I was praying fervently and my husband had to ask "is today the day you promised your fellow ogbanje that you would die?" he said it jokingly though.
He wouldn't understand and I didn't bother telling, Christmas is almost here again, I don't have any excuse not to travel yet I can't keep fighting this battle alone each time we travel. How can I make him understand without painting his people black? And how am I sure they aren't planning something worse this time around? I'm lost.
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