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An hour after 12pm
Their lantern shone a dim bright
They walked in silence, seven of them
Bare footed, head bowed
The owl has hooted to herald
What was and is seen to be
The passing procession of an astral family
An earthen calabash, a black cock
A heavy talisman to should bad luck
The earth us cold, the night is freezing
Deadly deeds done before the sun is risen
Sacrifices are made, names are spoken
Blood is spilled, covenant not to be broken
The procession returns to whence they came
And Otunba’s family shall never be the same
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