When Mama Came Back

Growing up, everyone believed I was the reincarnation of my maternal grandmother. This belief was one of the first things I became conscious of as a child. One of the reincarnation principles in Igbo cosmology is that the person who reincarnates doesn’t get to see/dies before the person they reincarnate into is born. Mama died on 29th June, and I was born on 23rd December of the same year. She fell ill shortly after my mother discovered she was pregnant. So everyone was dead sure it was her. Like it was so obvious.

An ancestor may be reincarnated as multiple people in which case the reincarnations share a mortal bond. Upon the death of one person, it is believed that the others may die a sudden death if they see the corpse.

One of my (extended) family members (on my mother’s side) said she had a dream shortly after Mama’s funeral. In the dream, Mama was looking all radiant and happy. My grandmother told her she was pleased with the way the funeral went. After that, Mama told her to get her a drink. She did as she was bid. Just as she was about to serve the drink, she realized Mama was gone. In her place was a tiny, crying baby.

A bit woo-woo, I know but let me give y’all a little bit of context.

Now, these guys didn’t conclude that I was Mama’s reincarnation independently. certain events led to it. My mother doesn’t really talk (to me) about it because 1. She was very close to her mother and still misses her to this day 2. Losing a loved one while you’re pregnant is a very stressful experience. It is not something you want to relive constantly 3. As a child, I was too damn curious and always asked exasperating questions. As an adult, she knows stuff like this is content for me.

Fortunately, my godmother always talked about it. My godmother spent the better part of her teenage years and her twenties with my grandmother. They were close too, and my godmother idolized Mama. According to her, in the months before Mama died, she kept talking about what she would look like and act like in another lifetime. She said she would be literate, intelligent, do exploits and above all, know God, just as she did now.

My godmother said I used to act very strangely for a toddler. She said I had similar mannerisms as Mama, and that I spoke and acted in ways that bespoke a certain “maturity”.

I believe this is the Pygmalion effect at work sha but what do I know.

Naturally, when I got to reasoning age, everyone drummed Mama’s wishes into my brain. As a child, I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. I was comfortable with getting the 13th position out of 20 pupils. Still, on some inexplicable level, it felt like I was letting someone else (asides from my parents) down.

When I finally started picking up in first grade, everyone was happy. After all, Mama had said she would be so intelligent when next she came. Aside from the pressure that came with these expectations, I found myself vacillating between feeling like I was letting everyone down when I performed poorly and feeling like I was taking credit for someone else’s actions each time I came out on top.

Another important thing to note about the whole Igbo reincarnation shebang is the fact that the new child usually carries a mark of some sort that lets people know the child is a reincarnation of someone (with that mark). My Dad once told us of a man who got shot during the Nigerian Civil War and got a huge scar after the wound healed. After the war, the man married and had kids. A little while after his death, one of his grandchildren was born, and the boy had a mini version of that scar. People surmised the old man had “come back”. Now in my case, I have no scars or birthmarks she did (at least to my knowledge) neither do I look like her.

She’s dark-skinned, and I’m chocolate (Nigerian-speak for brown-skinned).

She was very busty, and I’m as flat as a sketchpad.

I often joke that I forgot my jugs in the spirit world.

However, though we might not look alike or share scars, we largely have similar mannerisms. One of the reasons why I hated the whole idea of being someone’s reincarnation was because I felt it robbed me of my individuality. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, during the Christmas period of 2019, my older cousin told me of how Mama loved pasta and always looked forward to her (my cousin) making it for her.

Guess one food I am crazy about and don’t really like sharing?

You got it! Pasta!

I couldn’t even like pasta without it zeroing back to a supposed previous life.

It felt as if core parts of my existence were linked to this woman I had never met and I became less of an individual with each shared trait. However, I am across a book that changed my mind about the Igbo concept of reincarnation.

The Truth About Ilo Uwa and Reincarnation

In the Igbo language, reincarnation is called ilo uwa. It is also called Ilo/inyo uwa by the people of Nsukka, Mu dasa or ilua uwa by Ohafia people in Abia State, ino uwa by the people of Anambra, Inua uwe by the Aboh people of Delta, and Ibea enu by the Ika people in the South Western part of Igbo land. However, what people don’t know is that ilo uwa is not reincarnation. A testament to the old Italian saying, “traduttore tradittore,” (he who translates betrays) ilo uwa was translated to reincarnation, and all knowledge about what it truly was lost. The knowledge gets vaguer and vaguer because of the lack of dialogue between the Christianised Igbos and Igbo traditionalists.

The number seven in the Igbo language represents the fullness of life; an affirmation of a desire to live a fully integrated life — accepted by man and the good invisible spirits. There is a belief that a soul can only reincarnate seven times, after which he joins his ancestors or is turned into a tree or animal for persistent wrongdoing.

Rev Dr. Anthony N.O. Ekwunife

Reincarnation is the rebirth of one soul in successive bodies, a transmigration of a soul from one human to another. This is not ilo uwa. According to Rev. Dr. Anthony N.O. Ekwunife in his 1999 book, “Meaning, and Function of Ilo Uwa in Igbo Traditional Religious Culture”, ilo uwa should be interpreted mysticopsychically and not physicocyclically.

A mouthful I know but put simply, the concept of ilo uwa is not one of cyclical rebirth rather it is the mystical impression of a certain spirit’s traits on a physical body thereby influencing it for good. This impression doesn’t revive the dead or diminish their identity, neither does it supplant the child’s unique identity and individuality.

Human knowledge is pancosmic in the sense that there are certain limitations of viewing a subject from one perspective.

Rev Dr. Anthony N.O. Ekwunife

I had a small epiphany after reading this book. The concept of ilo uwa as an impression of traits from one generation of biologically related human beings to another reminded me of a field of genetics I worked on as an undergraduate.

Epigenetics: Rewriting the Destiny in our DNAs

Etymologically, the word epigenetics means “above genetics” and deals with the way nurture and nature interact. It checks how DNA reacts with a multitude of smaller molecules found in the cell to activate and deactivate genes to alter genetic expression. While traditional genetics, shows that your gene is your destiny, epigenetics shows that lifestyle, nutrition, stress, and even love can affect your biology by activating or inhibiting the expression of specific genes.

This activation and deactivation of certain genes were proven by separating identical twins (who have identical genetic makeup and equal potential ) and raising them in two very different households. The one who had access to resources became the best possible version of himself by expressing some genes, while the other didn’t because of the inhibition of some genes.

Another curious study that proved how nurture could alter nature involved rats with the agouti gene, a heritable gene that gives rats a ghastly yellow color and predisposes them to obesity, diabetes, and other diseases. It was found that feeding the agouti rats a diet rich in genistein (a phytoestrogen found in soybeans) reduced the expression of the agouti gene and led to the birth of non-agouti offspring.

Genetics may hold the gun but epigenetics pulls the trigger…

Pamela Peeke (Epigenetic Transformation– You Are What Your Grandparents Ate: TEDxLowerEastSide)

Basic genetics tells us that only genomes get passed on to offsprings and that characteristics like memories, scars, and massive muscles can’t get passed on because acquiring them doesn’t alter the genetic code. Epigenetics shows this may not be the case. This was shown in a 2014 research by Dias and Ressler using lab mice.

In the research, the sweet orange cherry almondy scent of acetophenone was paired with an electric shock. Over time, the rats learned to associate the smell with pain even in the absence of the shock. What happened was that along the way, the rats sprouted extra neurons in their noses and the smell processing center of their brain.

This is where it gets interesting.

In a serendipitous turn of events, it was discovered that the rat’s pups, and the grandchildren had the same reaction to the fruity smell of acetophenone despite never being introduced to their parents or the fruity scent.

So what happened?

Instilling fear in the first generation of rats changed their genes by altering how their genetic code was read. This change was passed down to the subsequent generation of rats. The combination of the smell and the electric shock led to the attachment of an epigenetic tag, which made one group of their smell sensing genes go haywire. This change happened in one key set of cells: the rat’s sperm cells. Thus, leading to the transmission of the altered gene to the offspring. This research is a testament to the fact that social experiences can cause epigenetic changes and something as intangible as trauma can be passed down to future generations.

“I think of epigenetics as empowerment, the power to live long and live well…”

Pamela Peeke, Assistant Professor of Medicine, the University of Maryland (“Epigenetics: Your DNA is not Your Destiny,” On the BBC Reel)

As a finalist in the university, I delivered a seminar on epigenetic modifications (specifically histone acetylation). I remember calling my supervisor and begging him to change the topic. The whole thing seemed like bogus science, and I wasn’t a fan of genetics. I wanted to work on the role and mechanics of antioxidants (particularly glutathione) in detoxification. Long story short, I ended up doing it- and it was a wonderful experience. After studying the reality of epigenetic modifications and the true dynamics of ilo uwa, it got me thinking:

Is the impression of traits as explained by ilo uwa actually epigenetics at work or some inexplicable mystical phenomena?

Are some inexplicable and idiopathic phobias we have, say, a paralyzing fear of heights, born out of the experiences of a past life or epigenetic modifications that were passed down from an ancestor?

Are some things we like at first contact for no decipherable reason, a product of the experiences and affectations of a previous life or inherited epigenetic modifications?

Is the transmission of memories possible? If yes, is it via a mystical phenomenon like ilo uwa, epigenetic mechanisms, or an interplay of both?

What are your thoughts?

Originally published on Medium

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