Here I am o, roaming the streets of the newly dead, looking for Ned. It’s hard to tell souls apart here, but I know Ned will be in the overpopulated City D. This is the fun part. To get to City D, I must travel past A through C. Such a privilege! I might as well have fun while at this. What’s the worst that can happen? I’m already dead!

I stand in front of City A. I cannot walk in. There is an invisible barrier through which only those souls qualified to be in City A can cross. If I try, I will bump my head. No, I won’t try. When you come here, you try if you want. They walk in twos in City A: the reincarnating soul and their Chi. These ones are set for the journey back to the Mental Plane, that place you mortals call Earth. Here, they bond tighter, waiting on a go-ahead from Chukwu. Chukwu, on the other hand, is waiting for someone to die or for someone else to get pregnant so the reincarnation process will be complete. Dying is a must-do for ahụ, the humans, in the Mental Plane. Besides, they are always killing themselves. Though not compulsory, many reincarnates prefer to return to the kindred from which their soul departed. The rumor is there is a blinding hole at the end of City A from where the soul and their Chi fall through to possess the fetus whom they are to occupy in the Mental Plane.

I move on to City B. Everyone here is watching their palms or reading a book, deep-necked in research and negotiation. They are always in twos like in City A. Here, souls paired with a Chi for reincarnation strategize before their meeting with Chukwu. In that threesome meeting, the soul’s destiny in the Mental Plane is settled. You only get that meeting once. There is nothing like, “I change my mind, Lord. I don’t want akara again. I prefer akpụ.” That is why merciful Chukwu allows you time with your assigned Chi to agree on what you want before you enter Her presence to seal your fate.

City C, my current city. I am still here because nobody in my family wants to die and release their Chi. And if there is no free Chi, how can I reincarnate? This is how they will be wasting time now until my great-great-grandson’s wife gets pregnant. Mtchew. In City C, we walk alone; where is Chi to make us two, kwanụ? In City C, we take turns to mind the gate to the Spiritual Plane. There, we welcome the newly dead and assign judgment dates to them. C can be fun because all of us are friends. Here is better than the Mental Plane where some senseless ahụ feels they are more ahụ than their fellow ahụ. Ndi nzuzu!

Well, I’m sure glad to have left City D; the overpopulated city of the newly dead. Those here are not ready for reincarnation and others have not even faced judgment. They walk in ones like us in City C. But, lord, they are almost like ahụ! They are so noisy, talking about their experiences in the Mental Plane! And now I am here because of this Ned coward.

But why would Ned run from me? Anyway, they are newcomers. They think this is the Mental Plane. Hahaha! Idiot Ned. Today, those in my set—those who died at 102—are minding the gate. How am I supposed to know that today, of all days, is Ned’s death day? But you need to see the way Ned froze when they saw me and gbalaga! They think this is the Mental Plane. Hahaha! Mtchew.

But only Chukwu knows how much time I have left. Time can be tricky here. I don’t want trouble. I still shudder remembering Chukwu’s voice when She rebuked me earlier. What did I do? That I went to report to Her that a soul who came to my table to collect their judgment date went missing. Is reporting myself not the right thing to do?

That’s how I now met Chukwu talking with Her daughter, Idemmili. I knelt. Nobody approaches Chukwu on their feet. How dare you!

“Chukwu mo!”

“Ọ gịnị?” She asked, dismissively, almost.

Chukwu was just being courteous by asking “what” because She knows everything. She is omniscient. But I answered anyway, telling Her how I had recorded the last soul’s judgment date, raised my head, and Ned was next. They saw me, froze, and took off. Me? I ran in the opposite direction, to Her, to report myself or the situation or both.

That’s how I now finished talking o, but She ignored me and continued Her conversation with Idemmili. Idemmili, warm as ever, gave me an assuring smile.

So (me and my big mouth) I now called, “Chukwu mo!”

She now snapped. “Ọ gịnị dị?”

I now bowed. “Lord, that I may know.”

“Lord, that you may know what exactly? Lord, that you may know gịnị?”

I kept my head lowered. Chukwu’s glow can blind. “Lord,” I said, in all humility, “that I may know why Ned fled. Chukwu eleison!”

She laughed.

What’s funny? I raised my head small.

“Ndị mmụọ a sef.” She shook Her head. “Open your palm.”

I obeyed. I watched Pastor Ned, wearing an oversized suit, clutching his Bible, pointing at me, screaming that if I don’t give up my heathen ways, I will never make Heaven. I knotted my red lappa, laughed, and said jokingly, jokingly o, that he should bet and see, I, the so-called pagan, will be the one at Heaven’s gate to judge him. And that’s why Ned ran from my table here? Wonders shall never end!

Chukwu spat on the ground. “Before this spit dries, make sure you are here with my child.”

That’s why I’m now here o, roaming the streets of the newly dead, looking for Ned.

“Adventures of Mmụọ“ was first published in If There’s Anyone Left: Volume 3  (11/2022)