THE CALABASH THAT REMEMBERED NAMES

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The Calabash That Remembered Names — The Curse Version
In the village of Umunwa, elders warned children never to speak near the old baobab tree after sunset. They said the tree did not sleep—it listened.But Abeni did not believe in warnings.During the driest season anyone could remember, she uncovered a blackened calabash wedged deep within the tree’s roots. It was sealed with red clay, marked with symbols that burned her eyes when she stared too long.
That night, the calabash called her name.
“Abeni…”Its voice was wrong—too close, as if it came from inside her chest.When she opened it, cold air poured out, smelling of wet earth and decay. A voice whispered:
“I remember names that were erased.”Each night, it spoke a name. And each morning, someone in the village fell ill—forgetting their family, their home… sometimes even how to breathe.The elders realized too late: the calabash did not remember the dead.It stole the living to replace them.
Those whose names were spoken were not killed. Worse—they became hollow. Their eyes stayed open, but something else wore their bodies. At night, they gathered beneath the baobab, standing motionless, facing the tree.
Abeni tried to stop listening, but the calabash would not allow it.“If you do not listen,” it hissed, “your name will be next.”When the chief ordered the calabash destroyed, fire refused to burn it. Iron shattered. The earth swallowed the men who struck it.One night, Abeni realized the truth.
The voices were not ancestors.They were forgotten sacrifices, buried alive when the village was founded. Their names were erased so the land could prosper. The calabash was their prison—and their hunger.
Abeni took it back to the baobab and begged forgiveness.
The tree opened.Roots dragged her into the ground as she screamed her own name, over and over, so she would not be forgotten.
By morning, the river returned. The crops flourished.
But Abeni was gone.Now, when the wind blows after dark, villagers hear a new warning whispered from the roots:
“Do not listen.”
And sometimes… the calabash whispers your name.
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