At the mention of being burnt alive, Mazi Amuneke, who had remained silent until then with his head buried in thought, suddenly raised it. He fixed Ego with a sharp, searching gaze.
"So you have come to confirm whether it is true?" he asked.
"Yes," Ego replied. "And to find out why he was burnt alive."
Amuneke slowly beckoned to Osundu.
"Come here, my son."
Osundu moved toward him cautiously.
"Does he have a birthmark behind his neck?" Amuneke asked.
"Yes," Ego answered, nodding as she gently turned Osundu around and pushed his hair aside to expose the mark.
Amuneke reached out and examined it carefully. He called the three elders closer. They inspected the mark, whispering among themselves for several moments before nodding in agreement.
Amuneke's eyes widened.
"He is the one."
His voice trembled.
"He came back."
He pulled Osundu toward him and wrapped both arms around the boy in a long, tight embrace.
"Onwuhara, my son. You came back."
His voice broke.
Then the old man's composure collapsed.
"He came back not as an Ogbanje. We succeeded."
Tears began rolling down his cheeks.
"He came back as he said he would. He came back into a rich family, just as he said he would."
He clutched Osundu tighter.
"I wish we could go back in time. I would apologize for every wrong I did to you. I would tell you how sorry I am. But I know it is too late now."
The old man began sobbing uncontrollably, his shoulders shaking like those of a child.
Nobody interrupted him.
They simply watched and allowed him to release the grief he had apparently carried for years.
Osundu seemed to understand the pain. Without saying anything, he gently began patting the old man's back.
Amuneke was still crying when Osundu suddenly looked toward the entrance of the compound.
A young woman was approaching from the opposite direction.
The moment Osundu saw her, his entire expression changed.
He broke away from Amuneke and ran toward her.
"Ndi-ka! Ndi-ka! Ndi-ka!"
It was the first time Osundu had ever set eyes on the woman.
She was now married and had, presumably, been living in her husband's compound. She had only come that evening because her father had summoned her.
Yet somehow, Osundu knew her.
He ran with such excitement that he nearly knocked her down when he jumped into her arms.
Ndidi caught him.
"Ndi-ka, I really missed you," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck.
Tears immediately filled her eyes.
It was as though she had suddenly been reunited with a beloved younger brother she had lost years ago.
"I missed you more, Hara," she whispered into his ear.
She held him even tighter.
Whatever bond existed between them had survived death itself.
After a while, they walked back toward the Obiri together.
When they returned, Amuneke had managed to regain his composure. He wiped his face and sat upright again.
Everyone was still astonished that Osundu had recognized Ndidi without ever having met her in this life.
Amuneke looked at Ego.
"That is Ndidi, his elder sister. He used to call her Ndi-ka. They were extremely close."
"I can see that," Ego replied.
She looked at Osundu and Ndidi, who were still standing together.
"It further proves that we are in the right place."
She turned back to Amuneke.
"So what really happened to Onwuhara?"
Amuneke sighed deeply.
"Long ago, my wife Uka gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She was our first child. But before we could even give her a name, she died."
His voice became heavy with emotion.
"We were devastated. Uka cried for days. She refused food and would not allow anyone to take the dead child away from her."
Amuneke paused.
"I eventually invited an Ogbanje dibia to examine the child. After studying the lines on her palm, he told us that she was an Ogbanje."
Ego listened intently.
"He used charcoal to mark the child's body in the same place where your son now bears his birthmark. Before leaving, he instructed us to watch the next child carefully. He said that if the child returned with a mark in the same place, it would confirm that the Ogbanje had returned."
He took a slow breath.
"Uka became pregnant again and eventually gave birth to another beautiful girl. We examined her carefully, but there was no birthmark."
Amuneke smiled faintly at the memory.
"We named her Ndidi."
He glanced toward the woman.
"She brought joy back into our household. We thought the nightmare was over. We believed we had finally broken the cycle."
He lowered his eyes.
"But Uka became pregnant again."
His voice changed.
"This child was another girl, and this time the birthmark was there."
Ego swallowed.
"I immediately summoned the same dibia. He examined the lines on her palms and told us there was a way to prolong her life."
Amuneke's fingers tightened around his knees.
"He cut a line across her palm and rubbed a particular herbal preparation into the wound. He told us it would keep the illness at bay until she became old enough to speak and reveal where the object connected to her oath with the Ogbanje cult had been hidden or buried."
Ego listened in silence.
"For a while, it worked. The child survived long enough to be named. We thought perhaps this time we would finally succeed in breaking the cycle."
He shook his head.
"But she never lived long enough to reveal where the object was hidden."
Amuneke's eyes became wet again.
"Seven market days after her naming ceremony, Onwubiko died."
The Obiri became silent.
"Once again, our household was thrown into grief."
Amuneke wiped his eyes.
"The dibia advised me to cut off the child's left little finger. He said the Ogbanje league hated ugliness and deformity and that such a sacrifice would make them reject the child from their midst."
He hesitated.
"I believed him."
Ego stared at him.
"So I did as he instructed."
Amuneke's voice became almost inaudible.
"Two years later, Uka gave birth to a baby boy."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Our joy knew no bounds. We had desperately wanted a son."
He looked at Osundu.
"But our happiness did not last long."
The smile disappeared.
"When we examined him, we found the birthmark."
Ego's heart tightened.
"And his left little finger was missing."
Amuneke nodded.
"We immediately returned to the same dibia."
He paused.
"He performed the same ritual he had performed on Onwubiko. Somehow, the child survived."
Amuneke looked directly at Osundu.
"He lived long enough to be named."
His voice trembled.
"And I named him Onwuhara."
Ndidi instinctively moved closer to the boy.
"We gave him everything," Amuneke continued. "Food, clothing, affection—everything a child could possibly need. We loved him more than anything in this world."
He looked at Ndidi.
"And Ndidi…"
A smile briefly returned to his face.
"She was always with him. She played with him, protected him, and cared for him almost as though she were his second mother."
Osundu looked up at Ndidi.
She smiled through her tears.
"And he adored her."
Amuneke's expression suddenly darkened.
"But despite everything we did to protect him, the gods—or whatever forces were behind his fate—were not finished with us."