Where I come from, there is a belief that if you want to see a ghost, you need only go to a marketplace in the dead of night—bend over and look between your legs, and voilà! You will be visually transported to the realm of wandering souls in the marketplace. This action supposedly even reveals those in the market who are actually of the spirit world—but heaven forbid you are noticed by one of these specters before you get back up… you never get back up.
Now, the first time I heard of this, I shrugged it off with a “Yeah, rrrright!”—but as superstitious a belief as this may be, I would never try it!
Another “cultural” superstition in certain parts of my country is that of the Osu caste system—a traditional practice in Igboland, characterized by social segregation and restrictions on interaction and marriage with a group of individuals known as Osu (Igbo: outcast) (Wikipedia). Igbo families believe that marrying an Osu only brings bad luck and, as a result, they frown upon it. Some families have actually gone as far as disowning their own for doing so.
As an uncle of mine, of Igbo descent, once said when he was asked if he would allow his child to marry someone of such background:
“I count myself to be a modern man, able to see past our local superstitions. But you see, on this matter… no be me start this cultural belief, and so no be me go break am.”
(He is basically saying that he’d rather not question the belief and therefore would not allow his child to marry into such a family.)
Like my uncle, I, too, see myself as one who has risen above superstitious beliefs, and that’s because I won’t dabble in them in the first place—not even when it comes to a lucky rabbit’s foot or itchy palms that supposedly indicate money is on its way.
Festival King 