"Nda, I think you're taking this matter far too seriously," Oluchukwu said gently. "Even if Osundu was someone else in a previous life, that doesn't mean he remains that person in this life."
"How do you know?"
Oluchukwu shrugged.
"Usually, Ogbanje children are believed to have pronounced birthmarks on their bodies. They are said to be marked after death so that their spirit companions can recognize them when they return."
Ego's eyes widened.
"Osundu has a birthmark at the back of his neck."
"Yes, I know."
Oluchukwu smiled.
"But there is something else. According to what our people believe, many Ogbanje children return with a missing or deformed part of the body—a distal phalanx of the left little finger, for example, or another part that was amputated after death. It is believed that such mutilation is intended to make the spirit world reject them."
She looked toward the hut.
"They are said to hate ugliness and deformity. Osundu has no missing part. He is whole, healthy, and beautiful."
Ego looked toward the dark sky and raised both hands.
"My fathers, please don't let my son be an Ogbanje. I don't know what I would do if I lost him."
"You are not going to lose him."
Oluchukwu squeezed her hand.
"And most Ogbanje children are said to be sickly, constantly troubling their parents with one illness after another. Osundu has barely been sick twice since I came here."
Ego thought about it.
"Yes, you're right."
A smile slowly returned to her face.
"Olii, thank you. You've succeeded in convincing me that my son is not one of them."
She pulled Oluchukwu into a tight embrace.
Oluchukwu laughed.
"Now that we have that out of the way, can I tell you something he said to me two market days ago?"
Ego immediately pulled away.
"Please do. What did he say?"
"I was bathing him that evening and humming a lullaby at the same time. Suddenly, he said, 'Nda!'"
"I answered, 'Yes, Nwoke oma?'"
Oluchukwu smiled at the memory.
"He looked straight into my eyes with those enormous eyes of his and said, 'I remember that song.'"
Ego frowned.
"You're joking."
"I laughed until my stomach hurt. Then, just for fun, I asked him where he remembered it from."
"What did he say?"
Oluchukwu's smile disappeared.
"He said, 'My elder sister Ndidi used to sing it to me whenever I was crying.'"
A chill ran through Ego.
"He said that?"
"Yes."
Oluchukwu rubbed her arms.
"Then he said he missed her. I didn't let him finish. I immediately rebuked him, and he started crying."
Ego rubbed both palms over her arms.
"It is doing the same thing to me just hearing you say it."
"That wasn't even the first time."
Ego turned sharply toward her.
"What?"
"He has spoken about his previous life to me before."
"So he has been telling you these things, and I'm only hearing about them now?"
"I didn't think they were important enough to mention. But after seeing how disturbed you became tonight, I thought it was time you knew."
Ego stared at her.
"Alright. What else did he say?"
Oluchukwu took a deep breath.
"It was a cold night. I was lying on a mat with him, trying to get him to sleep. The whole room was dark."
She lowered her voice.
"Suddenly, he called me, 'Nda Oluchukwu.'"
"I answered, 'Dim oma.'"
She paused.
"Then he said, 'Do you know I used to have another mother?'"
Ego's eyes widened.
"Another mother?"
"Yes."
"What was her name?"
"He said her name was Uka."
Ego became completely silent.
"That was the first time he had ever said anything like that to me. I thought he was simply making up stories, so I asked him what happened to her."
Oluchukwu swallowed.
"He moved closer to me and whispered into my ear, 'She slept beside me and never woke up.'"
Ego's mouth fell slightly open.
"I jumped off the mat."
"I would have done the same."
"I was so frightened that Osundu started crying. He probably thought I had hit him. It took me several minutes to gather enough courage to return to the bed."
"That must have been terrifying."
"It was."
Ego stared into the darkness.
"So he remembers an elder sister named Ndidi and another mother named Uka."
Oluchukwu nodded.
"And he says he once lived somewhere called Nnewi, with a man named Amuneke."
Neither woman spoke for several seconds.
The night suddenly seemed colder.
Ego finally broke the silence.
"Since we're talking about reincarnation, let me tell you a story."
Oluchukwu nodded.
"I'm listening."
"When my cousin Amuwa was born, his father invited the chief priest to determine who had reincarnated as his son."
Oluchukwu settled herself more comfortably.
"The Dibia laid out all the objects required for the consultation. Then he asked Azuka, the child's mother, to sit and place the baby on her lap. A raw egg was placed in the child's right palm."
Ego paused.
"The Dibia began by calling out the names of people believed to have returned."
"'E wu Okoro?'"
"Nothing happened."
"'E wu Okonkwo?'"
"Still nothing."
"He continued calling the names of deceased members of the family while the parents supplied more names. But the child gave no sign."
"Then the grandmother suggested another name."
Ego leaned forward.
"As soon as the Dibia called that name and asked the child whether he had returned as that person, the egg shattered violently in his palm."
Oluchukwu's eyes widened.
"And the baby began crying?"
"Yes. He cried until his grandmother took him."
Ego paused before continuing.
"Amuwa was four when that grandmother came visiting. The moment he saw her, he ran toward her, shouting at the top of his voice, "Mma! Mma! Mma!"
"Those were his first words?"
"Yes."
"The grandmother picked him up, and he whispered something into her ear."
"What did he say?"
"That is what brought tears to her eyes."
Ego's voice softened.
"Later, when we asked her why she had cried, she finally told us the story of the man Amuwa had supposedly returned as."
Oluchukwu leaned closer.
"What happened?"
Ego looked into the distance as though watching the memory unfold.
"Long before any of us were born, when our grandmother Nnenne was still young, wild, and beautiful, she was returning from the stream one afternoon."
"She suddenly heard something behind her."
"She turned."
"A stranger jumped out from the bush."
"Nnenne was startled. Her clay pot fell from her head and shattered on the ground."
Oluchukwu smiled faintly.
"That sounds like her."
"It does."
"Nnenne was quick-tempered. She didn't wait to hear what the man wanted. She marched up to him and slapped him across the face."
Oluchukwu laughed.
"She slapped a stranger?"
"She did."
Ego shook her head.
"And almost immediately, she regretted it. In those days, a man could not simply take a slap from a woman and walk away. His age mates would mock him for allowing himself to be disgraced."
"So what did he do?"
"He slowly raised his hand to his cheek."
Ego paused.
"Then he smiled."
"Smiled?"
"The most beautiful smile Nnenne said she had ever seen."
Oluchukwu leaned closer.
"And then?"
"He apologized for frightening her. He told her that he had no intention of causing her harm. He even promised to follow her home and explain everything to her parents."
Ego's voice dropped.
"But that meeting at the stream was only the beginning of their story."