BOOK EXCERPT: The Comfort of Distant Stars: Philosophy, Igbo cosmology and our place in the universe

The Comfort of Distant Stars by I.O. Echeruo is a bold coming-of-age tale blending physics, philosophy and Igbo cosmology, examining how we understand our place in the universe.

In The Comfort of Distant Stars, Ezeani is no ordinary child. He sees things others don’t. When he leaves Nigeria and his adoring family behind to study in the US, he remains haunted by his most persistent vision, Anyanwu, the Sun God. While Ezeani is adjusting to his new life in America, Anyanwu’s presence takes on an increasingly sinister and malevolent form – and chaos reigns. It’s enough to make anyone lose their grip on reality. Here is an excerpt.

One cannot understand life without understanding time. Perhaps that is why the truly insightful child is eager to know which comes first – the chicken or the egg.

When I was barely three years old, I was plucked from my bed, taken to a clearing in a dense, lush forest and made a high chief. The title conferred upon me was the greatest, a title that would take an accomplished, brave, virtuous man a lifetime to obtain.

The rain came down in a cascade of pale beads that broke as they stung my skin and forced me to squint and then close my eyes. I could feel Anyanwu’s rough palms grab my hand, dragging me in the direction of his steps. The red, clayey soil, caught between my toes, made me feel that I would slip. I could barely make out shapes in the half-light of the storm. Everything was green and slicked with rain. The air smelt like burnt iron. I felt tired. But I responded to Anyanwu’s pull.

There were others on the path. They appeared to be following me. I could hear the voices. But their words were drowned by the kernels of rain falling hard on the leaves and the soft echo of that harsh sound off the wet, green foliage. The voices rose and fell, and I imagined that they were arguing among themselves. In one instant, as the voices dropped, I came to believe the argument was over how much money they would get when they sold me and the share each would receive. I was frightened. The thought had come to me clear and complete, in a manner that I would later learn to refer to as an epiphany.

My first instinct was to share this suspicion with Anyanwu. However, I immediately realised that, if they were going to sell me, Anyanwu would surely be in the conspiracy, since he was the one holding my hand and leading the way. While I was still digesting this thought, the voice patterns behind me changed and I heard what sounded like a woman’s voice rising and then falling. I was seized with the idea that the woman was telling the others that I was hungry and needed to be fed. And her concern was sincere, not to fatten me up for sale or slaughter.

Decades later, when I shared the story of this dawn with my wife, she would say the thing she found most remarkable was that at just three years old I had somehow internalised the concept that people could sell others. I reflected on her comment, but I could not understand why anyone would think this the most notable part of the story.