THE UNTOLD STORY OF THE AMOS FAMILY: WHEN TRADITION BECOMES BONDAGE

We are ten — a large family from Edo State raised in a well rooted Oral traditions believed to be our protection. Twice every year, members gathered to drink and wash with a concoction of human and animal blood mixed with leaves. It was said to bring good luck, safe travel, brotherhood, and protection from untimely death. Refusal was not allowed.

The cost of refusal became clear in 1993. My elder brother Austin returned from university with a new Christian faith and a baby girl. Our custom required that every female child be circumcised. Austin refused. Family members beat him and took the child by force. Four days later, my niece died from infection and bleeding. The family blamed Austin and forced him to perform cleansing rites. He fell sick, his right leg swelled, and he was bedridden for two months. He died on June 12, 1993.

In 1998, another brother died under similar circumstances after refusing the rites. I began to question whether the rituals that were supposed to protect us were instead destroying us. I paid for my questions too — beaten many times, and in 1998 stripped naked and tied to a table at the community center for refusing to participate.

After secondary school I moved to Kano, hoping for freedom. But even there, and later in university, i was being monitored around the town. It was during this time that I met Omolara. We fell in love and married despite my parents’ disapproval.

Forty days after our daughter was born, the demand to bring her for the circumcision rite as tradition demands. We refused. The pressure turned into intimidation. They came to our daughter’s school, to our home, and to my workplace. One of the various attacks at work led to me losing my job. My wife was once ambushed and forced to drink the concoction, and we nearly lost our son my second child.

Even in Ghana,when we traveled for a colleague wedding there were treats thinking that i ran away later in 2017, we traveled to New York for a family wedding. On the eve of our return, my wife refused to pack, saying she had been threatened even in Ghana and feared there was nowhere safe. I returned home alone, but the hostility only increased. They accused me of hiding my family.

In January 2018, I was attacked at home and beaten severely. I was given 21 days to produce my family or face worse consequences. After hospitalization, I realized I had to flee to protect my wife and children.

Complicating matters, my father was a retired senior police officer. With his influence, my attempts to report the attacks were dismissed as “family matters” to be settled traditionally. The Amos family remains close, but we are choosing a different path — one rooted in life, peace, and the right to choose. While our names have been changed to protect those still at risk.