Mambo

By

Obododimma Oha

Our parents while leaving home had told my siblings and I not to disappear in the neighborhood as usual. But they were just wasting their breath. For my siblings did exactly what our parents had warned us not to do. I was in our sitting room that hot afternoon when Mambo, a dreaded, huge mad man raced in and started begging for protection! I reasoned that what had the guts to chase that terrible Mambo and even force him to beg for protection must be superhuman and terrible.

My childish mind reasoned that whatever had the heart to pursue Mambo - - Mambo the terror, Mambo the great giant, Mambo the yesterday that is today, Mambo the moving forest, Mambo the great - - that thing must be avoided! But it seemed to be following Mambo to our sitting room in a hot afternoon with only me at home! 

A child may be crying. Then, somebody warns: "Mambo is coming!" That crying child would stop crying instantly! And look around carefully and thoroughly, to see if it is true. That child may even pretend not to be crying but talking to the mother instead. Mambo the moving forest is coming! 

In many cases, Mambo the moving forest was only a myth. Only very few had really seen him. Many would not want to see him again, while some  hungered for the terrible adventure. Some told stories of how they saw him and broke into hot urine or passed out. In that case, those still wishing to meet him were tired of life or were simply crazy!, 

Within a short time, the superhuman forces that were pursuing Mambo showed up in our sitting room. "Meere m ebere!" (Have pity on me!) Mambo pleaded immediately. "Ebere adịghịzi" (No more pity). They pounced on Mambo, giving him blows and caning him mercilessly. Mambo begged, but it was all in vain. 

After some time, Mambo started moaning like a helpless child. I really felt sorry for him, even though I was afraid of him. Then, they stopped beating him, and I was relieved greatly. But they proceeded to chain him, this time in a way no human should be chained. Perhaps, for them, he was not human at all. They also probably believed he had been sufficiently broken and they could then ride him. They mercilessly chained the animal, their chief, my kinsman known for curing all kinds of Madness, Okonkwo, closely supervising. They chained him and carried their hefty luggage to the house of healing nearby. I was relieved and could go and empty my Bladder. 

I later learnt that Mambo was kept without food for three days! Then, his hair was shaved and a mixture from roots and leaves rubbed on it. Let's make it brief: what subdued Mambo subdued him forever. He was eventually healed and I was surprised to see him later heading for the stream to fetch some water! He was completely normal. 

One sad afternoon, Okonkwo had ordinary fever and was killed by someone using oyibo treatment! The great Okonkwo had heard that a "doctor" was around and that he even had a "clinic" in the village. Okonkwo was persuaded to go and have his fever treated in the oyibo way. So, he walked down, but sadly did not walk home! Something was injected into him and the great chief died instantly. Sad. Very. The "doctor" vanished, his "clinic" too. 

I said that it was a very sad afternoon. Imagine the family of the great one being called to take home the body of the great one who walked to the "clinic" all by himself. When Mambo saw him lying in state, he was sad, too, and shook his head. He must have said, "Humans are just terrible. Healers and killers. Killers of healers!" 

Today, I saw a photograph I took with Okonkwo at a ceremony many years ago and shook my head. So, all that knowledge is lost, buried because of the attraction to things oyibo? So, Okonkwo returned home before Mambo did? What a life!

Some serious lessons emerge from this narrative. The first, of course, that Africans should stop thinking that Oyibo medication, maybe because of the packaging that often goes with it, is necessarily superior to any other one. Okonkwo could have easily driven away the fever with a cup of syrup from boiled leaves. The argument about dosage is a weak point, for such a drink is just like herbal tea and could not have knocked out the great healer within seconds! Maybe some other powerful argument can do the work of discouraging the use of local remedy better. 

With the healer's exit from this life, have we not lost a great asset and can sit to listen to claims that madness that enters the marketplace can  never be cured? Yes, a huge repository of knowledge on skills for curing various kinds of madness! 

The oyibo clinic just vanished when Okonkwo died. Are we surprised? The quack will continue to prey on the ignorance of local people, particularly this colonial thinking that oyibo medication is far superior and preferable. Many still believe that and pay more, even with their dear lives! 

And Mambo. I know that their roads crossed in life, that one was used in repairing the other. So, it is inevitable that Mambo should terrible. Mambo's miraculous wellness was as a result of Okonkwo 's skilful attention. Now, Mambo is well and there, but his repairer has gone. Let's hope for the best for Mambo and hope his wellness continues.