On a dark, windy night, we had gone in search of Nwannu (sweet) because we hated the Katagbam (sour).

A few metres away from the compound, we came down to the Odikpiri. I had come bearing my grandmother's lantern, accompanied by a few of my cousins, all within the same age group.

We came to the foot of the giant tree. The trunk was wide and round, and it had a few hollow trenches around its base. The Udara tree was a wonder to behold.

We picked up a few of the shiny yellow fruits that had been thrown down by the benevolent wind. But every time the wind rustled the dry leaves on the ground, it sounded like footsteps in the dark.

We held hands and waited for more of the fruits to fall. The wind blew harder, and more Udara fell from the branches. We scattered in all directions, picking the fruits and calling out to one another.

That was when we noticed a tall, dark figure with a white face standing between the hollow trenches at the base of the tree.

The lantern fell from my hands, and we scampered in different directions. In our attempt to escape, we threw away the precious fruits we had gathered.

Back in the house, I was about to receive my fair share of punishment for having left my grandmother's lantern behind. But the wise adults around us decided to go and see for themselves and perhaps recover the lantern.

We all sat quietly at home, waiting for confirmation of what we had seen.

But they returned with the lantern and laughed at the children who thought they had seen a ghost under the Udara tree.

It was Nwokonta!

He loved to scare the children away from the precious Udara. With white powder smudged all over his face and a flowing gown draped around him, he guarded the Udara tree every night.

And so, we came to understand that there was no ghost under the Udara tree.

The End.