Chapter Seven - “Look at it, Touch it, Smell It—This is Nnabo”: Trajectories and Transformations of “Warrior” Societies

Summary

I vividly recall all my initiations into secret societies explored in this book. Each had a profound impact on me. I can lucidly describe the environment in which they took place, recall most attendees, and expound on the sensorial qualities I experienced: visuals, smells, tastes, and sounds. My initiation into the Nnabo cultural association known as a warrior-related society, but perhaps better referred to as a “war dance,” was no different. The initiation began with a sacrifice of gin, native egg (noncommercial), and pepper powder. I presented my oath of allegiance and loyalty to present and past members.

During the sacrifice I was asked to break an egg over the altar to bind my initiation. I hesitated with uncertainty and thought to myself: was I supposed to break it literally over the altar or throw it as I have seen done in other ritual contexts? The leader, Iso Edim, laughed and lightly teased me over my indecision. I quickly recovered face, and confidently threw it with force, smashing the egg perfectly. Members marveled at my tactful recovery—the egg yolk splattered and sluggishly oozed down the altar. Several steps ensued that I cannot disclose. Then, with the help of the gathered members, I completed my initiation with the Nnabo chant, which finalized my membership.

All of this occurred at an altar inside the faction's “shrine,” a makeshift storage shed with a shabby attached porch where members congregated. It was located in the back of the leader's compound. I recall a thought I kept to myself at the time: I was incredulous that such an important structure holding the faction's most important paraphernalia was actually a barely standing, condemned outhouse. Such a guise, I later learned, was a clever attempt to misguide the curious or those filled with malicious intent. Soon after I chanted, leader Iso Edim grabbed my arm and ushered me deeper into the “cloaked” structure, pointing at a costume hanging on the wall. He firmly told me, “This is the Ayabom you saw the other time; look at it, touch it, smell it.”

I was about five inches away from one of the most striking images I have ever seen.