Flame of honesty

Tag: Fiction, Young Adult,



As drops of tears flowed down his cheeks Akanji’s mind wandered back to the last word that stole his father’s last breath on earth.

“My son,” the old man’s voice quivered. He was lying on the mud bed that was covered with a locally woven mat. Akanji’s eyes glistened under the gleam of the moonlit room. As he turned to his father, the yellow flame from the lamp mingled with the moonlight to reveal his streaming tears. A cold of fear rushed through his veins as his father gave a pained gasp, “I want you to mark all the words I have said to you … above all, you should always be a good boy.”

That was the last words he left to the world five years ago, thought Akanji. Perhaps he uttered another word; a word which only his ancestors could hear. He heard nothing further, other than several sharp breaths.

The memory of his late father had always anguished him each time the thought assailed him. He was seated under a cocoa tree, weeping. He stared mournfully at his poor mother, Abebi, who was cutting the outgrown weeds on his father’s farmland. Akanji had been the one cultivating the vegetables after his father’s death. Akanji’s father, Ogunjimi, and Abebi had buried four children before Akanji who was now their last hope.

At that fateful night of Ogunjimi’s death, Abebi was at the backyard of the hut, kindling the fire beneath the pot of herbal concoction. Her eyes had become sore from the wicked smoke that was emitting from the fire. Suddenly, a shrill noise strangled the silence of the night. It was Akanji’s voice. She dashed inside the hut, wondering what had gone wrong with her son. To her utmost surprise, it was her husband whose antidote was on fire. After ascertaining the lifeless body of her dearest husband, she slumped dizzily to the ground, wailing and writhing on the mud floor in agony – she wished her relentless wailings could wake him from that endless sleep; all was to no avail.

Ogunjimi had been strong and industrious in his lifetime. He died in his late sixties from iba (fever). His neigbours thought he was not supposed to die from such symptom, for his prowess at using shrubs and barks to cure all sort of illnesses. Ogunjimi had saved many lives in the village, but his own he couldn’t save – that was the top talk of the villagers after his demise. He was kind and generous to everyone.

Akanji was a good-looking, sixteen year old boy who was tall enough for his age. Abebi was in her early fifties. She had strong features, except for her loose breasts which was now dangling in her shabby blouse, having fed five mouths in her life time.

“What is wrong?” Abebi’s gentle voice broke Akanji’s day dream, “you are supposed to join me with this weed-clearings. Confide your troubles to me, my son.”

Abebi sat on the ground next to her son. She wiped his tears with her tattered wrapper.

“I am just thinking about our present condition… it wasn’t like this when Baba was alive.”

Abebi heaved a sigh of relief. She never expected Akanji to dwell on that sorrowful, but distant memory. She had gotten over that long time ago. She loved her husband as much as Akanji did.

She cleared her throat, and said, “Everything will change for better my son,” she gave him a motherly look, patted his back and urged him to his feet, “let us plant a few crops. Thank God it will rain today … it is approaching already.”

Mother and son paced away from under the tree; withered leaves crunched beneath their bare feet since it was a dry season.
*******

Aboyade village was always congested on market days. Noise of market women calling for customers choked the atmosphere. The market was surrounded by hills. The sun could be seen in fraction, peeping behind the distant clouds. Cool breeze descended, stirring the colossal pear tree that dominated the market square. The birds trooped in their hundreds across the light blue sky to perch on the trees, and upon the thatched roofs.

Akanji was selling beads just under the tree. His mother would sell their crops to the market women in bulk. Akanji was said to be honest and kind to everyone; even the birds could testify to that. He would summon the birds with a mouth whistle that suggested their various utterances for the grains he had bought for them. He had never eaten anything without sharing with his sales mates.

A man in agbada and a cap now approached Akanji’s stall. He kept flaunting his bulging pocket.

“How much do you sell your beads?” asked the aged man.

“The prices vary according to their sizes and designs.” Akanji said, “which should I bring, sir?”

“Pile them up and let me know the worth of everything.”

Akanji thought he hadn’t heard the man quite well.

”Everything, you said?” he queried.

“Yes, my son … make the estimate of everything for me.”

Akanji was impatient while packing them up – he was so excited.

“Twenty pounds, sir,” he announced.

The man counted the money and handed it over to him.

“Here is your money.”

He received and confirmed the amount. He then handed the goods over to the man in a big sack. The man turned around, forcing his way through the crowd to shop for the other goods.

Akanji started arranging his basket, preparing to go home. Then his eyes stumbled upon a knotted small cloth lying on the ground.

“What is this?” He thought aloud, “It is only one person that had come to buy goods from me today. Or did it slip off from somebody else unawares?”

He partially loosed the knot. He almost lost his sight, bedazzled by gold and silvers half unfolded. His mouth widened with amazement. He quickly knotted it back, preventing it from being seen by the market people.
This is wealth! He thought. I have to search for the man that just left here.

He jostled through the crowd, scrutinizing every face he met on his way. He asked after the man from some of the market people, describing his appearance to them. None gave him helpful feedback. He combed every inch of the market; the man was nowhere to be found. He was despaired. Eventually, he met a woman who pointed the direction the man had taken few minutes before.

He ran as much as he could. Finally, he sighted his fading figure afar off. He began to shout at the top of his voice to attract his attention. When Akanji reached the man, he started panting like a rat that had narrowly escaped a cat.
“Hello, sir,” panted Akanji, “is this for you?”

The man quickly rubbed his pocket – it felt empty.

“Oh!” exclaimed the man, eyes lit up, “they are my jewelries. Where did you see it?”

“By our stall,” he managed to catch back his breath,“ it must have fallen down from your pocket when you were buying the beads.”

He handed the sack to the man. Just then the man gazed into the sky and dropped the gaze back on Akanji who was about going.

“Come back, my son,” said the man, in a strange voice that startled Akanji.

Akanji got confused now, solely seeing the man’s once radiant countenance replaced with a dull one as if he had sighted something forbidden.

” I have to seek your forgiveness, for I have wronged you. The money I just gave you for the goods was a fake one.”
Akanji delved into his pocket, and took a better look at the money. His mouth widened in awe as he confirmed.

“Take back your beads … the jewelry are all yours too.”

Having said this, the man produced a gem from his pocket, “take this precious stone – it is a mystical stone. Say into it whatever you want, and they shall be yours by the grace of Eledumare.” (the almighty God)

Akanji stretched forth his hand hesitantly; a cold sensation surged through his unwilling body. His heart beats was almost audible over the howling of the wind as his hand met the man’s for the powerful stone.

“Thank you, Baba,” he said, almost under his breath.

“That is your reward, and do not change your character. Above all, you should always be a good boy.”

The last word rang a bell in his ears. Was that not the last word from his late father?

“Go home now,” the man urged him.

With that, the man turned back at him. With few paces, his figure fleeted into the distance, gradually becoming paler until he dissolved into the thin air. Akanji gasped with shock. Another strange feeling, stronger than the previous one, flooded through him as his eyes widened in horror at the strange man’s figure. It was doubtless that the ghost of his father had visited him. His eyes crowded with tears as he headed back home.

 Other posts
 Turning a new leaf
The buried passion
Treasure and the lucky digger
The pride of a bride
The vengeance of omoge omi
Land of chaos (Novel extract))
Divine diary
Heron at desert
Flame of honesty 

Divine diary 2

Through the corner end of his eyes, Solomon could see Yetunde staring at him and wondered why she made that so obvious. He thought she didn’t want to give a reply. Perhaps she had burnt his letter after reading it according to her habit.

Solomon cleared his throat, summoned a confidence, and ventured, “You received my message, right?”

“You’re referring to me?”

“Yes, I sent you a letter almost a month ago. And I expected you to give a reply to it.”

“Oh, you did?” she feigned a puzzled look, “I misplaced one letter during that period ... I guess it’s yours … sorry about that.”

“No problem. Nobody is above such a mistake.”

“You don’t need to re-write the letter,” Yetunde wore a welcoming smile, her palms relaxing on her hips, “Since you have an opportunity to talk to me now, you are free to express whatever you wrote in the letter. Or what do you think?”

Solomon was surprised to hear that. He kept quiet, imagining what could come out of it. Proposing to a girl was a game, especially to a goddess like Yetunde. It was either to win or lose anyway.

“I actually wanted us to be friends, that’s all.”

“Friends?” Yetunde repeated the word as though she was hearing it for the first time.

“Yeah, I would be very happy if you would grant that.” He said, adjusting the collar of his black, velvet suit.  Yetunde was on a blue skirt and pink fitted shirt that showed her lusciously cupped breasts.

 She grunted naughtily and smiled, “Was that all you wrote in your letter? Just tell me everything. I glanced through the content before I misplaced it, and I saw how much words you wrote; although I didn’t check the sender’s name.”

“Really?” Solomon’s heart froze with shock, but grew more confident all the same, “Okay. Let me tell you all. I wrote about my educational status, family background. I appreciated your beauty. I … really wanted to have a romantic affair with you, but I believed that an enchantress like you must have had many partners. And I requested you rather accept me as a friend instead. That was all I wrote.”

“What about my beauty?”

Solomon smiled timidly, “I can’t remember all I wrote about that.”

“I am listening.” She persisted, a seductive smile narrowing her eyes.

His frozen heart began to dissolve at Yetunde’s warm responses. If she had fallen for him already he must be the luckiest guy on earth, he thought.

“I compared your beauty to that of a rainbow that feeds the hungry eyes with wonders … your smiles more captivating than a diamond amidst the night … endowed with a graceful movement like…”

“Hmmmmn,” Yetunde grunted and let out a blushful smile, “that’s too much. Hey! You this boy, You’re just flattering me with poem sha. Instead of ‘Solo man’ why not Mr. Shakespeare? You are a literature student, I guess.”

“You guess right,” said Solomon, adjusting his shoulders in pride, “mind you; I am saying exactly what I see - not a flattery.”

Yetunde asked about his full educational status. He said he used to be in science class while in SS1, and he was later transferred to Art class when he discovered his talent during a stage drama in school. He was now in SS3. Yetunde was proud to tell him that she was also in Art class. She shared her dreams with him. Solomon said his own dream was to become a stage actor and playwright.

Solomon wished he could terminate the discussion to confirm if Yetunde had accepted his proposal, but Yetunde kept attacking him with lots of irrelevant questions. He knew instinctively that she had fallen for him already. It was obvious in the way she kept smiling seductively at him, unlike the rumour he had heard about her.

“You’re yet to tell me about your family background,” remarked Yetunde.

Solomon’s once happy face stiffened with sadness immediately, “Actually, I lost my both parents and four younger brothers some years back in our former residence.”

“How?” Yetunde’s eyes widened in shock, “You … you lost your entirely family? How did it happen?”

“It’s a long story,” he said reticently, “That was the reason why I came to reside here with my uncle.”

“That’s so pathetic,” Yetunde shook her head in sympathy, taking a deep breath, “ See life … we seem to share things in common.”

Yetunde told him about her parent’s death and how tormenting it had always been on her too.

“So, we are both orphans,” Solomon sighed, glancing at his wrist watch. Jide was not yet back after 25 minutes.

Jide and the reverend soon appeared from the church entrance. Jide introduced Solomon to the reverend as his close friend. The reverend then offered to drop them in their neighbourhood in his new Volkswagen beetle, and they happily accepted the good gesture.

. . . .

About 6 months later, Solomon and Jide finished from high school, and they both made excellent grades in their result. Jide was in science class and he wanted to study medicine in higher institution. During that time Solomon and Yetunde’s relationship had grown into a deep love affair. Although people believed they were  just friends since they didn’t make it obvious.  When Jide was suspicious about their closeness he went to Solomon’s house and asked if they were really into a romantic affair.

“Yes, we are,” responded Solomon, adjusting behind his reading desk with a fantasy novel in his hand, “and it’s been more than four months, but … I thought you know about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” said Solomon, “is anything wrong with her?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jide said, his buttocks almost melting down on the chair he was seated. He quickly masked his disappointment with a smile,” as a padi, I think I’ve to know your current girl now.”

Jide couldn’t believe his ears. He knew Solomon wasn’t at fault since he never told him about his past relationship with Yetunde. Solomon only knew them as mere neighbourhood or church friends.

On the following day, Jide wrote a letter to Yetunde. In his letter he reminded her of the promise she made to him when she was 13 years of age. He reproached her for having fallen in love with his close friend in his stead.

Yetunde felt guilty after reading Jide’s letter, but what could she do when her heart had rejected him? She wrote in her reply that the promise she made to him was for childhood love. And besides, any promise she failed to record in her diary was an invalid one.

Jide read the letter with hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He brooded over it for some days, and made up his mind to move on with his life.  As a faithful fellow, he believed they were not destined for each other. And his intimacy with Solomon would never be altered.

****

Occasionally, Yetunde would visit Solomon’s house to have a private discussion with him. Solomon would also go to Iya Toun’s shop to see Yetunde under the pretext of buying goods. Yetunde and Toun would be in the shop from 4’o clock till nightfall when Iya Toun must have gone to Kuti market where she sold jewelry.  Most times Temi would be with them. Each time Solomon came around, Temi had always grown jealous, but wouldn’t show it.  She soon realized that Solomon and Yetunde were in love, and she thought Yetunde purposely envied her own heart desire.

 Temi was absent in Yetunde’s place for two days. Yetunde visited her place to ask what was amiss.

“Can’t you see you are a traitor?” Temi snarled, her eyes glittering like that of an infuriated cat.

“How do you mean?” Yetunde asked, puzzled.

“You are now having a romantic affair with Solomon in order to ridicule me, abi? You never said you liked him. Did you?”

“No, but….”

“But what?”

“Stop talking that way,” Yetunde said, trying to contain her temper, “Solomon wasn’t interested in you, and you know that.”

 Temi held up her hands to start a fight with her, but Yetunde quickly walked away. Yetunde thought if she began a tussle with her,  gossipers would materialize at the scene. Everyone would be curious about the cause of the fight. Bad news travelled faster in their neighbourhood. Such was the news of a girl that put guluso on her nipples. She knew what their favourite song would be, “The proud Yetunde oloju ede and her best friend are fighting over one boy.” What a shame!

Few days later, at Iya Toun’s shop, Yetunde kept pestering Solomon to reveal to her the cause of his family’s death, but Solomon wouldn’t yield.

“I will tell you at the right time.” Solomon said.

 “When is the right time? En?”

                                                                     

“Just bear with me. Okay? I have a reason for reserving it.” Solomon stared into her eyes with a look of assurance.

“If you truly love me,” Yetunde swallowed hard, her face masked with disappointment, “you need to confide everything to me the way I have always done to you.”

“I do love you wholeheartedly, Yetunde, but…” the word froze in his mouth, and with that he left. Yetunde didn’t call him back. She contemplated that it might be an anguish to him. And she wished to pacify him when next they ever met.

. . . .

Few months later, Jide gained admission to the University of Lagos where he attained his medicine course. He started staying with his uncle who was living in Lagos. Meanwhile Solomon’s uncle couldn’t sponsor his education further, so he had to seek a job in order to sponsor his education. He trekked all day to search for sales-boy job, but there was no vacancy. If he started with that, he thought, he would look for a part time job while in school.

After some months Yetunde graduated with distinction from high school. She was one of the 12 best students that were awarded on the assembly ground. When she was about to receive the award, tears rolled down her cheeks. Everyone believed it was tears of joy, but it was joy mixed with sadness.  She wished her father was alive. The school principal gave her a microphone to give a comment and dedicate the award to whoever she wished.

“Firstly, I want to give thanks to almighty God that made today possible for all and sundry to witness. I am dedicating this award to my late father, Mr. Kehinde Akinyele … the best Dad in the world ... He was a teacher in his lifetime. If not for him; I might have been a dullard. Right from my primary school days, he would tutor me on Arithmetic, English and other subjects. He would buy me storybooks so that I could learn morals and read fluently … And each time I did well he would buy me gifts. My gratitude also goes to my Dad’s aunt who sponsored my education to this stage. ” She turned towards the school principal and continued, “May God continue to bless you for organizing this award, sir. God bless you all, my great teachers. Thank you my fellow students.”

The assembly ground vibrated with cheers and applause as Yetunde walked gracefully down the podium. She later had a shot with the principal, her teachers and finally her friends. She was surprised to see Temi come around to snap with her. It was such a great day! She thought.

 When she arrived home she hung the award on the wall beside her father’s picture. When Komolafe, Iya Toun’s husband, saw Yetunde’s award he was happy. Komolafe was a civil servant, and he would come home every last Friday of the month to spend two days with his family. He urged Toun to put more effort on her education like Yetunde so as to finish with distinction from secondary school. Toun, a 17 year old girl, was still in JSS3. She had two brothers who were in higher institution. Komolafe promised to sponsor Yetunde’s education till the end.

Yetunde hoped to get admission into higher institution three months’ time. She wished to study mass communication in University of Ibadan or Lagos state university (LASU).

****

 One day, Komolafe returned home in the middle of the week for the first time. He came in sad without responding to greetings. And he sat quietly on the sofa in the sitting room.

“What is the matter, Baba Toun?” asked his wife, “it’s unlike you to return home in this mood.”

Komolafe shook his head, tears oozing out of his eyes as if that was the reply to the question. Yetunde’s face went blank with confusion.

“Daddy, please, talk,” Toun whimpered, “Did you fight anyone?”

Komolafe narrated how he had been robbed of cooperative money, N5000, while coming from the bank on a commercial bus the previous day. Those robbers’ faces were veiled with black mask, he said. They strangled the driver and the conductor of the bus to death. He had been sacked from work, and given a month to produce the money. Otherwise he would be charged to court. His co-workers thought he faked the story in order to dupe them. Immediately after the incident, he had reported to the nearest police station to trail the robbers.

“Where can you find such amount of money within a month?” Iya Toun lamented.

Yetunde knew by instinct that her hope for admission had been shattered. Five thousand naira was no small money.  Such amount of money would sponsor a child throughout a higher learning institution for 4 or 5 years. Poor man, Yetunde thought with tears-stained face, where would he get such a huge amount of money?

Some days later, Yetunde went to Solomon’s house to tell him about Komolafe’s misfortune and how it would affect her admission into higher institution. Solomon had never seen Komolafe, but he had heard Yetunde talk about him as a nice man. He thought such person didn’t deserve such disaster. Solomon consoled her. After their conversation, Solomon handed to her 200 naira to buy herself anything she needed since Iya Toun and her husband would be stranded. Yetunde once introduced Solomon to Iya Toun as her boyfriend. Iya Toun accepted him, for she knew Yetunde was a serious-minded girl.

“Where did you get this amount of money?” Yetunde was puzzled, “Have you gotten any job?”

When he was looking for a petty job, Solomon explained, he encountered his old friend in his private car. He was the one who gave him 500 naira just to shop for anything he liked. And he also gave him his home address to come and pay him a visit.

“Has he graduated from high institution yet? And what kind of job is he doing?” Yetunde asked curiously.

“He didn’t attend high school …  when we finished from primary school his parent couldn’t sponsor his education further and he had left our town to learn how to sell automobile spare parts. Ever since then, I was just seeing him on that very day.

“That’s good. I am just asking because he might be engaging in a dubious job … anyway he is such a nice friend.”

Yetunde expressed how happy she was about the money Solomon gave to her. She asked about his uncle because she had not been seeing him ever since she had been visiting Solomon.

“Oh, I thought I’ve told you. He has travelled for over two months now … He is now working under local Government, and he sends me money every weekend. So I am the only one at home.”

“Hmmmn,” Yetunde grunted, and teased, “you are now a real Solo man. I hope you don’t seize the opportunity to flirt with women.”

Solomon stroked Yetunde’s nose with his index finger while staring hotly into her eyes. Almost under his breath, he said, “Have you ever met any girl here since you’ve been coming? That means you’re the only woman in my world.”

“I am, really?”

“Yeah,” Solomon nodded as he lay his hands on her shoulders. Yetunde’s body quivered, as if those hands were drop of iced water. Solomon had never touched her that way before. Neither had he fixed that charming eyes straight into her eyes, and for a moment Yetunde became a dumb captive. The gentle touch had now advanced from her shoulders down to her waist.

“What are you doing, Solomon?” Yetunde said, her voice trembling, “this’s too early. Promise me first … Pro…promise me you will never leave me because … I’ve never done this.”

Solomon was shocked to hear that. He picked up his Bible and swore to her that nothing would ever put them asunder except death. With that, Yetunde’s mind was at rest that she would only lose her innocence to her future partner. And like that she submitted herself to him.

About three weeks later, report came from the nearest police station that those armed robbers had been arrested. Everyone was excited. Yetunde was the happiest – her dream had come alive again. She knew that Komolafe would be acquitted of the crime, and he would resume work. Komolafe and Iya Toun set out for the police station. Yetunde also wished to see those wicked creatures that almost shattered her dream.

On getting there,  they saw six boys sitting limply on the dusty ground in front the police station with bowed heads. They were only on pants, their bodies  streaming with blood from hard torture.

The police said they arrested them in their mansion where they were smoking, drinking alcohols and flirting with women.

“As you’re looking at them,” added one of the officers, “They have taken many lives. When we searched the house we found many knives, and some human parts. Definitely, they would all die miserably. We have been searching for them for long, and the Government was happy that we captured them at last.”

Yetunde and Iya Toun stood, leveling curses on them for all their atrocities. Komolafe asked the police to reveal their faces one by one. They began to reveal their faces which had also been distorted, teeming with bruises. Yetunde thought the fourth person shared same features with Solomon. She rubbed her eyes, thinking she was hallucinating.

“I think I know this person,” Iya Toun said, scrutinizing the familiar boy’s face, “is this not Solomon?”

“Solomon!” the name formed a lump in Yetunde’s throat, “are you really the one or somebody that looks like you?”

Solomon burst into tears, “I am innocent,” he pointed at the boy sitting beside him, “This is the old friend I was telling…”

“Keep shut!” One of the officers cautioned, “That is what he’s been saying since we apprehended them. We saw them drinking beer together. And the guy said he was among them.” The officer turned to the lad beside Solomon, “Am I lying Mister Man?”

The boy croaked in his Igbo accent, “Na so, oga. No be today we don dey do this work together. But he no dey among us for that bus operation sha.”

 “Why are you lying against me, you this devilish boy?” Solomon’s tears augmented.

“Officer, please give him a chance to explain to us.”  Iya Toun said.

Yetunde’s face had become sea of tears. Komolafe had been standing there like a statue because he had never seen Solomon. But he once heard his wife mention his name as Yetunde’s friend.

Solomon said he had traced the address his friend had given him. When he finally got the house, he explained, he wanted to go back when he saw nasty crowd of people, but his friend asked him to join them for a birthday celebration being held by one of the boys. Before long, the police intruded with ammunitions. It was then he realized he was in the midst of criminals.

“That is the truth of the matter.” Solomon concluded, “I am innocent, Sir.”

“He told me about a rich old friend he just met, and I warned him.” Yetunde sobbed, “Solomon can’t be a criminal, sir.”

“See the big lie wey dis guy plot o,” snapped the igbo boy.

“Shut up!” retorted one of the officers.

Komolafe and his wife pleaded with the police not to torture him again, but the officers still stood on their ground that he was among the culprits. However, they advised them to try their luck by getting him a very competent lawyer. Komolafe asked Solomon to contact any of his relatives to get him a lawyer, and he would support him with whatever he had. So, the police allowed him to call his uncle’s office on a landline.

Yetunde couldn’t eat nor sleep in the night. She kept praying for Solomon to escape the path of untimely death. Solomon was one of the dreams she couldn’t afford to lose in her life.

. . . .

On the following day Yetunde visited the reverend’s house. The old man guessed something was amiss because Yetunde had never come to his house. They only met in the church. He asked her what the matter was. She reminded the reverend about Jide’s friend whom he dropped in the neighbourhood with them some time ago.

“Oh, what about him?” asked the reverend.

She told the reverend about her relationship with him and how he had now fallen into problem.

“That’s serious.” The reverend sighed, “Firstly, we need to pray over it so as to know the root of the problem. Kneel down and let us consult our great lord!”

The reverend started the prayer slowly and gradually faster while Yetunde shouted AMEN with all her might. At one point the reverend kept quiet as though to listen to a voice coming from a very long distance. Yetunde knew he was in spirit. After what seemed like decades, he came back to his normal self along with a long  sigh.

“Praise the lord!” he repeated the statement thrice, shooting his fists upwards. “Hallelujah!” Yetunde shouted after him. He asked her to resume her seat.

“Jesus loves you,” he said, “The lord revealed to me that this young man had been cursed by somebody. It was revealed that he really committed the crime, but never realized until the day he was arrested with his accomplices. You might not believe it, but that is the power of curse.”

“So, Solomon really committed the crime, sir? And … and he told such credible story about the incident … that…that can’t be possible, sir.” Yetunde said, her countenance glowing with disbelief.

“Yes … he must be defending himself with that,” the reverend sighed. “As I was saying, It’s not ordinary. Maybe if you meet him privately he might tell you the truth …. And his father was revealed to be an armed robber who murdered a particular man. The young daughter of this very man is the root of all the calamity. She cursed the man’s family under rage and anguish.”

 Yetunde’s forehead furrowed with confusion, “Who is that heartless girl and … why did she have to curse the innocent family? I can’t still understand, sir.”

“According to the revelation,” the reverend paused and stared at the ceiling, “ that ‘young girl’ was revealed to be you.”

“Me? I didn’t…” her voice trailed off while her mind immediately journeyed back to the past, “No ... that can’t be true. I only cursed the family of the person who murdered my father, and I still curse them till date. Could the person be Solomon’s father?”

“Exactly; Miss Yetunde.”

“I’m in trouble.”

The reverend said the whole family was murdered by whatever they were cursed to die from, and Solomon was the remaining soul to vanish. Yetunde knew she cursed them all to die from firearms. She then realized the reason why Solomon wouldn’t disclose the cause of his family’s death.

“Please, sir. How can I save Solomon and erase this curse from his head even though we need to depart?”

“You have to fast for 41 days and night. If he is tried before the fasting ends, there is no possibility that the government might consider him.”

Yetunde began to shed regretful tears. She knew Solomon would definitely be tried before two weeks.

“You have to think twice before taking any decision,” said the reverend, “ Swearword is like taking judgment in your own hands. Meanwhile the Almighty God never slumbers. He has a way of punishing a sinner in his own will …. Have you ever had any affair with this fellow?”

Yetunde hesitated and said, “Yes we did … almost weeks ago.”

“It was revealed that you need to welcome a stranger from heaven.”

Yetunde was confused until the reverend clarified to her that she was pregnant.  She felt as if a mighty stone heaved on her head out of shock. She knew the reverend would never say a thing that wouldn’t come to past. He was indeed an anointed man of God. The whole church had always testified to that each time they shared their testimonies. The reverend said further that Solomon was not her destined husband. If they eventually got married they might not be fruitful in their union. The lord must have made her get attracted to Solomon in order to teach her a lesson, the reverend concluded.

The reverend proceeded, asking her to remember whoever she had promised and failed to. Yetunde knew the reverend was referring to Jide.

“Sir, It is Jide. I realized that my heart stop beating for him once I set my eyes on Solomon. When he sent me a letter of reminder, I wrote to him that I didn’t mean the promise I made to him since I never noted it in my diary.”

The reverend sighed and said, “There is no diary like that book of destiny held by Almighty God! It has been written in divine dairy that Solomon who you have noted down in your diary is not yours. Babajide seems to be your destined husband, and you need to find a way to win back his heart.”

Yetunde wondered how Jide would accept her; not even with pregnancy. She thought her dream to high institution was completely out of it. She had less than a month and half to gain admission. She asked the reverend if Jide would ever forgive her, and he assured her that nothing is beyond God’s power if she could pray hard and fast.

When she got home she didn’t hesitate to confide the revelations to Iya Toun, including her pregnancy. Iya Toun reproached her for having succumbed to sexual desire so early. But she later understood all that had happened as a temptation from God. Yetunde cried out her eyes for her seemingly shattering dream.

Two weeks later, Solomon was inevitably sentenced in court to die by firearms with his five assumed accomplices. During the two weeks none of the culprits were allowed to receive any visitor except their lawyers. Yetunde and Iya Toun went to pay him a last visit, and the police gave Yetunde 5 minutes to speak with him.

Yetunde asked Solomon to tell her the truth concerning the alleged crime.  Amidst tears, Solomon confessed to Yetunde that he was truly involved in the criminal act.

“I did it all for you,” he sniffed, his face streaming with tears, “ All I said on that day was a lie … I … I needed to provide you with anything you needed and send myself to school. I am so, so sorry.”

Yetunde burst into tears after hearing that. A wave of guilt descended upon her. But she didn’t want to tell him she caused his misfortune. She wished she had not met Solomon, but destiny cannot be avoided, she thought.

“You shouldn’t have gone that far, Solomon,” she sobbed , “I never requested anything from you. Did I?”

 Solomon narrated how his mother and younger ones were shot to death by his father’s gangs due to financial issue. They gunned down his father in front of their house, and on that fateful day Solomon didn’t sleep in the house. That was the reason why he moved out of the house in case the killers came for him. He never knew his father was an armed robber until then.

“I am sorry for telling you about this now,” Solomon said, shaking his head.

When Yetunde told him about the pregnancy he was shocked. He wished he could stay to father the oncoming baby, but destiny’s call must be answered. The officer soon aborted their conversation and drove him with five other culprits into the vehicle. Solomon and Yetunde bade each other farewell with tears-misted face. The black vehicle zoomed off to the land of destruction.

About 45 minutes later when Yetunde arrived home, she felt a tingling sensation in her abdomen, and she realized that her skirt was drenched with blood. Iya Toun took her to a nearby clinic for treatment after the flowing blood had stopped. The nurse confirmed that she had a miscarriage. Yetunde was excited within her, but couldn’t show it in presence of the nurse.  Iya Toun was also happy that Yetunde wouldn’t give birth to a fatherless child at last. And she could still make her study that way.

The police later informed Iya Toun the exact time Solomon and the boys were gunned to death. It was the exact time Yetunde had a miscarriage. Yetunde realized what the reverend told her. God had a way of making things possible, she thought.

Yetunde went to explain the miracle that happened to the reverend. She was still uncertain if Jide would accept her back. The reverend said he would travel down to his school in Lagos to counsel him prior to the day he would call both of them together. Meanwhile Yetunde’s admission into Lagos state university was about 4 weeks away.

Jide was happy, but surprised all the same when he saw the reverend in his school. He guessed something was wrong. The reverend waited under a tree in the reading garden. The reverend started with prayer and eventually he narrated all that happened to Yetunde and Solomon. Jide was sad to hear about Solomon’s death and tears stood in his eyes. Jide expressed how sad he was when Yetunde rejected him. The reverend let him realize that all was God’s plan. Jide was a godly person, and he would never disobey his reverend’s words as he knew he was a real prophet.

“I am ready to accept her back,” Jide said tearfully.

Jide added that Yetunde was free to come to him personally since he had condoned her misdeed. Yetunde thanked the reverend abundantly for standing solidly with her.

“Don’t thank me; thank the almighty God who had used me to shed light on the matter.  If I fail to do all these I may be punished by God.”

. . . .

On the second week when Yetunde gained admission into LASU, he searched for Jide’s department in UNILAG, and she was glad when she finally met him. They went to a solitary place on campus where she pleaded with him to forgive her.

“You don’t need that … I understand everything,” Jide said and embraced her.

“I love you so much, Babajide …once more,  I want you to forgive all my misdeeds.”

“I have always loved you, Yetunde.”

Few years after, Yetunde achieved her dream as a television and radio presenter, while Jide became a medical doctor.


 Other posts
 Turning a new leaf
The buried passion
Treasure and the lucky digger
The pride of a bride
The vengeance of omoge omi
Land of chaos (Novel extract))
Divine diary
Heron at desert
Flame of honesty