Chapter 8 THE ANCESTORS RETURN (OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT)

As the Blue Wind Festival raged into its second day, something peculiar happened.

A voice echoed from the direction of the forest.

"Ooooo Sikakrom! Have you forgotten your roots?"

People dropped their kelewele and turned to look.

"Who said that?" Pastor Isaiah shouted, clutching his Bible tightly.

The voice came again. This time louder.

"You dance when you should reflect. You feast when you should fast. The snails are watching."

Auntie Akos screamed and dived behind a yam pile.

Nana Kwabena stood up slowly."The ancestors... they have returned."

Or at least, that's what everyone believed.

What they didn't know was that behind the scenes, Kweku "Google" and his science teacher, Mr. Boampong, had set up a sound system in a hollow tree.

"It's for our project on psychology,"Kweku whispered. "We're testing how belief changes behaviour."

"You'll get us beaten," Mr. Boampong muttered, sweating.

But it worked.

Suddenly, everyone was on their best behavior.

Auntie Mansa returned all the fish she had secretly taken from Madam Esi's stand.

T.T. the Trickster went around donating 1-cedi coins to schoolchildren and claiming he had "turned a new leaf."

Even Pastor Isaiah confessed publicly, "Last year, I borrowed 10 cedis from the offering bowl. But I paid it back with interest!"

The entire village stood still. For once, silence fell.

Then, as if on cue, a small fart broke the moment.

All heads turned.

It was Azonto, the hunter's dog, looking innocent.

The spell was broken. Laughter returned like a rainstorm.

But something had changed. People started apologizing. Helping each other. Sharing food without asking for mobile money in return.

Perhaps it wasn't the ancestors. But the village had needed a reason to do better.

Even snails smiled.

Or so they claimed.