Decisive Decision

DECISIVE DECISION

     “CDC…!” Chief Adelakun exclaimed excitedly.

     “Innovation!!” The members of the gathering chorused in a very high voice.

     “CDC…!” He reiterated.

     Chief Dele Adelakun who was rightly standing on a podium was a seasoned entrepreneur turned politician; he actually ventured into politics owing to his extreme passion for humanity – he was undoubtedly an ardent and well-known humanist and philanthropist. Due to his distinguished nomenclature, he was unanimously elected as the flag-bearer of the Coalition for Democratic Change (CDC) by the majority of the party’s membership during its primary election to contest for the Chairmanship position of Ojeiran Local Government Area (LGA) – one of the most popular LGAs found in one of the states situated in the South-Western region of Nigeria. Right on that podium, he was observing one of his electioneering campaign tours as organized by his party (CDC).

      CDC was obviously a well-respected and leading party among the five major political parties eligible for the awaited LG polls; so far since inception, the party had been known for producing respectable and notable individuals as its flag-bearers for any political post across the country. Hence, every citizen of Ojeiran LGA alongside other LGAs in the state was looking up to the party as regards the aforementioned LG election, which was barely two weeks ahead.

      “Innovation…!!” the gathering responded accordingly in a more passionate tone.

      The campaign was taking place in one of the ancient public primary schools in the LGA on the 13^th of November 2002 at about some minutes past eleven in the morning. The arena was densely preoccupied with the party’s flag of blue, white and yellow colours with the picture of a palm-frond, which signified its logo, inscribed on it.

      “We already know why we are here.” Chief Adelakun proceeded. “Therefore, there’s no need for any introduction or preliminaries.”

      “Yes oooh!” The crowd chorused.

      “I don’t have much to say because I’m a man of few words,” he said. “But I can assure you that we are ready to bring total innovation to this LGA, just as the party’s slogan signifies.”

     “We believe you.” Majority exclaimed in appreciation.

“But it’s noteworthy that this cannot be actualized without proper accountability,”he said, paused. “Thus, accountability remains my watchword.”

      “Chairman – Chairman – Chairman…” The audience chanted continuously in anticipation.

      He signalled them to calm down using his arms. “I’m a banker,” he rode on. “In other words, there’s nothing one would teach me regarding finances or budgetary.”

      The frontiers amidst the intimidating crowd nodded in comprehension and agreement.

     Chief Adelakun – a huge and light-complexioned man in his late forties, who was clad in a dark-blue caftan, a native cap made of the same material and black plain shoes was an astute freelance banking professional; he had B.Sc in Banking and Finance from Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU) Ile-Ife, Osun State, Nigeria coupled with other numerous Advanced Professional honours in Finance and Business.

     “Before I conclude,” the flag-bearer said. “I must let you know that Education and Health would be my priority.”

    “We dey your side oh!” They chorused in vernacular.

     “Just look at our school,” he lamented, pointing at the dilapidated structure of the primary school being used as the campaign venue. “It’s nothing to write home about.”

      The members of the gathering frowned, shook their heads in disappointment.

      “The most annoying part is that,” he continued. “Most of these forgotten schools are the alma-mater of most stakeholders in the society.”

      The speech proceeded for over thirty minutes; it was indeed a holistic address. At the long run, the LG Party Chairman Chief Dapo Olabiyi rounded off the long-lasted talk. The audience were finally showered with light refreshments as well as souvenirs such as hand fans and portable form of the party’s flag prior to their departure.

     In two weeks’ time, on Saturday November 30, 2002 precisely, the election successfully held as scheduled, and Chief Dele Adelakun of the CDC emerged victorious as the Chairman-Elect of Ojeiran LGA; three weeks after, on Friday 20^th December 2002, he was sworn in along with his Deputy, Barr Gbenga Olusola.

     According to the state’s law, every Executive Chairman was meant to spend three years in office. To people’s greatest surprise, Chief Adelakun’s 3-year tenure was something to reckon with contrary to his predecessor’s style of leadership; ab initio, he took every of his campaign promises to include adequate education, good and affordable health care, standard road network, among others, very seriously that he was embarrassed with fathomless eulogies by every dick and harry in the locality, even in absentia. Among all, he rejuvenated the strength of his party (CDC) as far as his Local Government Council was concerned that in intervals, the overall leadership of the party would organize revelry just to celebrate him.

      In 2005, which marked the end of his tenure, Chief Adelakun was determined to re-contest for a second-term in office having made his intention known to the members of the party as well as the electorate; and he gained the support and encouragement of virtually all citizens of the LGA owing to his tremendous and overwhelming performance during his first term. Thus, he re-emerged victorious during his party’s primary election thereby placing him as the party’s flag-bearer in the area. On Sunday 11^th of September 2005 just less than eight weeks to the election, something unimaginable and horrific transpired; at the night of that very day, around thirty-minutes past eight (8.30 pm) to be precise, Chief Adelakun – ‘the People’s Choice’ as he was fondly addressed, was brutally murdered alongside his driver in his black Range Over Jeep while returning home as soon as he finished attending to a very crucial meeting involving leadership of his party in his office. Ascertaining the assassins or persons behind the bloody killing remained far-fetched and a mirage to the Police.

     Consequently, his party (CDC) was left with no other choice than to provide a substitute as their flag-bearer as the awaited election, which was scheduled for Saturday November 5, 2005, was already by the corner. So, they had to organize a primary election for other interested members of the party; fortunately, Chief Abiodun Olatunji emerged victorious. Chief Olatunji was the runner-up to the late Chief Adelakun during the previous primary election of the party that produced the deceased as the party’s flag-bearer for his second term bid.

      In one month time, the LG polls took place as planned and amazingly, Chief Olatunji won the election. No doubt, his anticipated victory was not unconnected to the fact that his party – Coalition Democratic Change (CDC) remained the greatest as at then coupled with the remarkable footprints his immediate predecessor, Chief Adelakun left behind. Suffice it to say that, the electorate were of the indisputable view that CDC was determined and consistent in producing sincere and distinguished individuals as its flag-bearers; according to them such tradition as presumed was an uncompromising principle as well as the watchword of the political party in question. Hence, they sheepishly concluded that any aspirant coming under the aegis of the party was definitely flawless.

      On the contrary, Chief Olatunji’s administration was completely opposite that of his immediate predecessor, that, the people’s optimism faded up; in the first and second years of his tenure, nothing new was done or implemented in the whole of the LGA and the worst was that maintenance culture was thrown to the waste bin. Rather than doing the needful, Chief Olatunji was obviously busy enriching himself and his entire household.

      As a result of Chief Olatunji’s nonchalant and lackadaisical attitudes toward good governance, there were speculations and insinuation among the people of the area that he could be responsible for Chief Adelakun’s demise, but there was no tangible proof to nail him down even though it was apparent. The most interesting aspect of the ordeal was that, the electorate learnt a lesson that a political party wasn’t meant to be dependable or reckoned with by the people during any electioneering era when it called for good governance; rather, whom the party uses as its flag-bearer. Thus, they concluded that they were supposed to concentrate mainly on the antecedents and accomplishments or the individuality of the aspirants rather than laying emphasis on the political party they intended to contest under. Needless to say; Chief Olatunji’s misdeed served as a deterrent as well as an endpoint to their longed nurtured fallacy.

      Subsequently, the people were placed on an untold hardship that they were pushed to make a decisive decision; hence, the leaders among the electorate with the consent of the entire electorate forwarded a Vote of No-Confidence on Chief Olatunji to the Legislative Council of the local government. After all the consequential investigations carried out by the Ad-hoc Committee set up by the Legislative Council, an unanimous motion was moved by the majority of the members of the council for immediate removal of the alleged culprit from office for gross-misconduct and misappropriation of funds. In consequence to this development, on Wednesday 17^th of October 2007 almost two years of his stay in office as the Executive Chairman of Ojeiran Local Government Area, Chief Abiodun Olatunji was served a Letter of Impeachment by the council, thereby authorising his Deputy to take over as the Acting Chairman prior to when he would be duly sworn in substantively.

      Few days later, he was arrested and thereafter arraigned by the country’s anti-graft agency.

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor

 

 

Grace to Grass

GRACE TO GRASS

     “Hello…” Lilian exclaimed as she picked her phone call.

     It was an unknown number.

     “Good morning, dear.” An unfamiliar masculine voice greeted immediately.

     “Good morning, Sir…” she responded. “Please, who’s this?”

It was about some minutes past ten on October 8, 2008.

     “Please, is this Okoro Lilian?” The unknown voice enquired amidst the suspense.

     “Yes,” she replied in a very low tone. “Please, who is this?” She queried anxiously.

“Eh-eh-m,” the caller quickly cleared his throat. “Okay, this is Adewale Martins.”

     The name was relatively unknown to her.

     “The Human Resources Manager of Arise Group of Companies, Abuja.” He clarified.

     “Oh,” Lilian exclaimed. “Good morning, Sir.” She reiterated excitedly and apprehensively.

     Arise Group of Companies Limited was one of the notable firms in Nigeria whose headquarters was situated in the country’s Capital Territory, Abuja; it majored mainly in production of foods such as garri, baking flour and condiments, wheat and corn flour. Lilian successfully passed through both the oral and written job interviews of the company few days back alongside other several applicants.

     Lilian, a 29-year old lady, was a graduate of Marketing from the Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma, Edo State, Nigeria; she graduated five years back, precisely 2003, after which she participated in the Nigeria’s compulsory one-year National Youth Service programme.

     Mr Martins who happened to be the leader of the 5-man interview crew set up by the company got her phone number from the Curriculum Vitae (CV) she tendered to the company.

     “Morning, my dear,” He responded to the greeting. “Where do you reside?” He added.

    “Kubwa Sir.” She answered.

    Kubwa, which was one of the major suburban districts in Abuja, was slightly near to the location of the company.

     “Okay, you’re a resident of Abuja?”

     “Yes Sir.”

     “Can you make it to our office first thing tomorrow morning?”

     Of course, that was one of the most vital questions she longed to hear considering how long she had spent in the labour market.

     “Like what time, Sir?”

     “By 9am.”

     “Yes Sir,” she gladly concurred. “I can.”

     “Okay, till then,” he said. “Ask of me when you come.”

     “Okay Sir.” Replied Lilian, smiling.

      He cut the call instantly.

      The following day being October 9, 2008, Lilian who couldn’t wait to embrace the moment arrived at the company as scheduled at exactly thirty-one minutes past eight in the morning (8.31 am) far earlier to the agreed time. When she got to the place, she was told that the HRM – Mr Martins was yet to be on seat, so she had to wait till about some minutes past nine when he eventually arrived.

      “Good morning, Sir.” Lilian greeted, head bent as she walked into Mr Martins’ office having closed the door.

     Lilian clad in black suit coupled with black plain trousers, black plain shoes and a white shirt recollected the face she was seeing having come across Martins on a few occasions.

     “Hello pretty,” Martins seated on his office chair in his white suit exclaimed, smiling. “How long have you been here?”

     “Almost an hour, Sir.” She said. Stood still.

     “Please sit down.” He urged.

     “Thank you, Sir.” Said Lilian. Majestically sat on one of the chairs positioned opposite the host.

    “You are welcome.”

    There was a few seconds silence.

     “Actually… I invited you for a crucial interaction,” he said. “That would be helpful to you.”

    “Okay Sir.” She said, nodding. Smiled heavily.

     Her arms, which held each other, were placed on the table.

    “You see,” He rode on. “I like helping young girls like you.”

     “Thank you, Sir.” She appreciated, lowering her head which was beautified with gorgeously plaited black hairs.

     “Especially pretty ones like you.” He added.

      She smiled.

      Lilian who was naturally endowed, was obviously a dark pretty damsel that any man would wished to behold; she was plump and average in height. Mr Martins who was in his early fifties picked interest in her during the interview exercise.

    “Before I proceed,” he said. “I would like to ask you a question.”

    “What is it, Sir?”

    “Do you truly want to get this job?”

Amazed. “Sir,” she said. “This is what I’ve been looking for, for over four years now.”

     “Meaning,” said the HRM. “You can’t wait to have the job, right?”

     “Yes Sir.” She replied passionately.

     He smiled. “So,” he said. “Are you willing to do what is expected of you?” He finally hinted.

     “Like what, Sir?”

     “It’s a pity you’re not familiar with the tradition.”

     The unsuspecting applicant remained curious.

      Since the interview segment Mr Martins picked interest in her, he had been preoccupied with series of fantasies regarding his foreseen relationship with her. Mr Martins was a randy man to the core in spite of the fact that he was happily married with four children; he was very good in playing games.

     “Meet me at New Haven Hotel tomorrow by 10am,” Martins urged. “By then, the picture would be clearer to you.”

     “Hotel…?” Lilian shouted naively. Deeply surprised.

     “Stop acting like a kid,” Martins enjoined. “This is what your mates do to get what they want.”

     At this point, she needed not a prophet to interpret the circumstance to her; she couldn’t believe herself. When she was invited over the previous day, she was totally of the view that she was coming to pick her employment letter unknowingly to her that the reverse was the case. Lilian was an ardent practising Christian owing to her family background, who couldn’t imagine betraying the faith she had nurtured since childhood let alone doing so with a man who was old enough to be her father.

     “Sir, are you actually asking me to have an affair with you?” She verified.

    “The handwriting is bold and clear,” he said. “Or, isn’t it?”

    “I’m sorry Sir,” she said. “I can’t.”

    “Stop being naive, young lady…” He ranted.

Martins was a no nonsense man who believed he could get anything he wanted on a platter of gold.

     “I’ve painstakingly gone through your CV,” he continued, frowning. “You have been in the labour market for four years now.” He said, looking into her eyes seriously. “And, I’m sure you wouldn’t wish to continue with the unending job hunt.”

Immediately, he appeared to her not unlike a monster. The scene occurred to her like a daydream.

     “Besides, do you think you’re the only lady among the teeming applicants?” He proceeded. “I chose you because I care so much about you.”

    There was absolute silence.

   “I’m sorry Sir,” she said. “I can’t.” She disclosed. Stood up.

   “Are you sure about this?” He enquired. Amazed. Still on his seat.

    He was yet to encounter such manner of rigidity since he commenced his promiscuous lifestyle.

Lilian was speechless while standing. She felt like pouring him acid.

    “Well, I will give you some time to think about it.” He added.

    “There’s nothing to think about.” She ranted. Hurriedly took her handbag which was kept on the table and walked towards the office entrance.

    “Nonsense,” Martins lamented. “Go and remain in the street; apparently that’s where you belong.”

     She hastily stopped on hearing the abuse, angrily turned her head to where he was seated, sighed at him and dashed out.

     “Non…sense!” Martins reiterated disappointedly. Stood up. “Look at someone I wanted to help.” He thought aloud.

             * * * * * *

     “Hello,” Mr Martins said as he answered his phone, which had already rang twice, right in his office. “Who’s this?”

    “Sir, it’s me.”

It was an unknown feminine voice.

     “Who, please?”

     “Lilian,” the voice answered. “Okoro Lilian.”

     Probably he didn’t save her number on his phonebook.

     That was the least of the names Martins expected to hear. It was in the morning on 16^th of October 2008, exactly one week the caller furiously left his office.

     Lilian thought it wise to resort to his demand after she got a misleading advice from one of her closest friends, Kemi who was also a job hunter. Having shared the ordeal with her (Kemi), Kemi told her that that was the kind of opportunity she had be awaiting, stating that she wished she was in her (Lilian’s) shoes; hence, warned her not to forfeit the offer. She never minded discussing the issue with her mum as she had always done; thus she decided to keep her parents in the dark.

    “So, what can I do for you?” Martins queried.

    “Please Sir,” she said. “Can I come and see you in the office tomorrow?”

    “For what?”

    “I will explain when I come, Sir.”

    “Young lady, tell me what you’re coming to my office to do,” he urged. “The last time you were here, I was like a monster to you.”

     There was silence.

     “Would you speak?” He reiterated. “Or, should I cut this call?”

     “No Sir,” she feverishly said. Gushed out tears. “I’ve accepted.”  She eventually hinted in a low tone.

     “Accepted what…?” He pretentiously enquired.

     “The offer, Sir.”

     “Which offer?” He loudly asked. Laughed falsely. “You amuse me; do you think we are selling crayfish here?”

     “Please Sir.”

     “I’m sorry,” he said. “Someone who’s more serious has taken the space.”

     “Plea…se Sir,” she pleaded. “I’m very sorry for all the pains I caused you.”

     He smiled; the plea was so fascinating to him. He was wondering if such plea was coming from a woman who acted exactly like a saint few days ago in his office.

     “So, what do you want me to do now?” He said. “Manufacture a space for you?”

    “Sir, I know you can do something.” She thought aloud. “Please, I’m on my knees.”

    “Okay,” he said. “Meet me at same venue at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

    “Remind me the name, Sir.”

    “New Haven Hotel,” he responded. “Room 235.”

    “Okay Sir,” she concurred. “I’ll be there by ten.”

    “Good luck then.” Martins dished out. Cut the call even though he wasn’t the caller.

     Afterwards, in two days’ time, Lilian became a staff of the Marketing Department of Arise Group of Companies Limited. Interestingly, she was issued an official car with a driver on commencement based on the ethics of the company.

     Amazingly, Lilian’s romantic affair with Martins continued to the extent that the silly game was being played even in their respective offices. Initially, it remained secret not until one fateful afternoon when they were caught in the act right in Martins’ office. The company’s Management couldn’t believe it; Martins promiscuous behaviour was undoubtedly hidden to them prior to the unthinkable incident.

     Subsequently, both of them were dismissed from the company. The unforeseen moment of grace to grass came at about four months after Lilian secured the employment, February 2009 specifically.

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor  

 

 

Unforeseen Confession

UNFORESEEN CONFESSION

     “The Lord is Good!” Mr Amakiri eulogized, looking at the sky while in his promising farmyard.

     “All the time.” His son Kosarachi added excitedly.

     Mr Amakiri was an industrious and well respected farmer in the whole of Umuokanne – the ancient community where he hailed from. Apparently, between 1982 and 1989 or thereabouts – the period when his name rang bell most, it was only a day old child that was yet to be conversant with the name ‘Amakiri’ whenever‘ farming’ was mentioned; needless to state that the name was synonymous with farming or agriculture. His prospect became astonishing that his Traditional Ruler Igwe P.O. Duru bestowed on him ‘Eze–Ji I of Umuokanne’, which literally implied the ‘greatest yam producer in the land’, owing to the outstanding yam cultivation invariably witnessed in his various farmyards that consistently led to harvest of thousands of yam tubers annually.

      Clad in his not unusual farming attire in the company of his son Kosarachi who put on a hat made of a wick material, that fateful day, MrAmakiri had gone to his farm as usual to inspect the growth of his crops; and luckily for him, they were doing very well. The aforementioned eulogy ‘The Lord is good’, which came as soon as they arrived at the farmyard, was as a result of the euphoria attached to the fascinating scene he just witnessed. They spent over thirty minutes admiring the flourishing plants while taking time to went across the four corners of the enviable farmyard.

      “Kosarachi, my son.”Amakari called tenderly while still taking a walk round the said farm alongside his son who happened to be his only child.

      “Yes Papa.” Kosarachi answered.

‘Papa’ is the native way of addressing a father in Igboland, which was their place of origin.

      MrAmakiri stopped, looked at his son, “Do you know why I always bring you here?” He said while stationary.

     “You mean the farm?” asked Kosarachi who was also stationary.

     “Yes,” Amakiri said. “And the other farms.”

     “No Papa.”

     “Sit down my son.” Amakiri urged while lowering his waist to sit on the farmland.

     “kosarachi complied. Both of them quickly sat on the available farmland within their reach having used bunch of plant leaves to cover the nudeness of the land.

     “I inherited this farm business from my late father,” Amakiri proceeded.      

     “Omemgbeoji.” He added referring to his late father’s name.

    They were facing each other, and also closely seated.

    “Being his only son,” He rode on. “He wanted the best for me.”

     Kosarachi nodded twice in comprehension.

    “He always told me that he could not wait to see me being in charge of his farms.”

    “He really loved you, Papa.” Kosarachi insinuated.

    “Yes he did.” Amakiri asserted. “That’s why I did everything humanly possible to please him.”

     His son nodded. “Amazing.” He dished out. Smiled.

     “Kosarachi my son.” He reiterated.

     “Yes Papa.”

     “I want you to know that,” the great farmer whom was in his late fifties continued. “I always bring you here because I want you to understand everything about this farming business.”

      Kosarachi, a young man in his mid-twenties, became very attentive.

      “There’s more you need to know about this business.” Amakiri disclosed.     

      “Therefore, you must dedicate all your time to it.”

      His son nodded severally. Remained calm.

      “Farming is a very lucrative occupation.” Amakiri notified. “But it requires enormous time.”

      There was a few seconds silence.

      “Kosara nwa m.” He proceeded.

     ‘Nwa m’ implied ‘my son’.

     “Yes Papa.”

     “One day,” said Amakiri. “You would be in charge of all my farms.”

     “I know Papa.” Kosarachi chipped in.

     “That’s my son.” His father appreciated. “I know you will make me proud.” He added, smiling. Paused. “Even in my grave.” He hinted.

They looked at each other passionately. “I want you to promise me one thing.” Amakiri said.

     “What Papa?”

     “That you will remain serious-minded.”

     “Ah – Ah, Papa…” Kosarachi exclaimed. “Of course, I will always be a serious boy.”

     “You promise?” His father verified anxiously, looking into his eyes.

     “Yes Papa.” He reassured confidently.

     “That’s my boy!” The zealous farmer excitedly exclaimed. “Is time to go home.” He suggested.

     His son concurred. They immediately stood up and left for their abode.

     Two weeks later, being April 13, 1989, unfortunately Mr Amakiri gave up the ghost owing to a snakebite that transpired right in one of his farmyards. Thereafter the burial, life became so unbearable to Kosarachi and his mother, that, they hardly knew where and how to start as regards the farm business. But with their little knowledge and experience, they vowed to make the deceased person proud in his grave, which was all he ever prayed and worked for all through his lifetime; on the contrary, little did they know that hard times lied ahead.

 

        * * * * * *

     “Kosarachi…” Maduka called the moment he was offered a seat at Kosarachi’s home.

     Maduka was one of Kosarachi’s closest uncles, and he was also a farmer by profession but he was a small-scale farmer compared to his late brother Amakiri. Maduka was undoubtedly a very greedy and dangerous man whom was in his early fifties, that, every second in his life his mindset was preoccupied with an intended evil act; every indigene of Umuokanne was very much aware of his dangerous lifestyle.

     Kosarachi was also warned by his late father while alive to be very careful with him (Maduka) and he heeded the candid advice seriously because he sincerely believed in every word that came from the deceased’s mouth.

     Maduka whose house was sited very close to that of Kosarachi’s late father, had walked to their sitting room where he (Kosarachi) was relaxing with his beloved mother Obiageri in the early morning at about some minutes past six of that very day being April 28, 1989 barely two weeks after his late step-brother’s exit; and just three days after the burial.

     “Yes uncle.” Kosarachi responded.

His mother was seated adjacent and closely to him while Maduka sat opposite him but a bit farther.

      “This one you came by this time,” Kosarachi added. “Hope all is well?”

Obviously, Maduka’s countenance wasn’t friendly that even a visually impaired person could notice it.

      “Eh-eh m,” Maduka hastily cleared his throat. “I’ve come to warn you to stay clear from my land at Umuobodo.” He disclosed frantically.

      Umuobodo was one of the clans situated in Umuokanne Ancient Community. The aforesaid land was where both Maduka and his late step-brother Amakiri separately owned farmyards; the land, which was duly shared among them, was inherited from their late father Omemgbeoji. Ab initio when Amakiri was alive, the greedy Maduka had made several failed efforts to deprive him (Amakiri) of his portion; he kept on finding fault at the boundary between the two lands. And, Kosarachi was informed of the dispute by his late father.

      It was actually on that land that Amakiri got the snakebite that led to his untimely death.

      Unarguably, Kosarachi and his mother were shocked over the uncanny warning; though they were very much aware of what Maduka was capable of doing but the early morning warning, which came exactly fourteen days after Amakiri’s departure, was the least they expected from him.

      “Uncle,” Kosarachi called. Frowned. “I’m surprise at you.”

      His mother, Obiageri who was still shocked, remained calm.

      “Is this what you came to tell me at this time of the day?” Kosarachi continued. “Barely three days after your brother’s burial?”

      “I’ve warned you Kosarachi.” Maduka repeated fiercely. “That land belongs to me.”

     “Besides,” Kosarachi interrupted. “My father never told me that the land in question is in dispute.” He lied.

     “Okay,” Maduka said. “Maybe he would tell you when you meet him in the grave.” He hinted harshly.

      “What?” Kosarachi exclaimed in a high tone.

      His mother shook her head in shock. Remained silent.

Obiageri was indeed an easy going woman that tried every means to avoid troubles.

     “Obiageri,” Maduka called. “You better warn your son.” He concluded. Stood up and left for his home crazily like one whose house was on fire.

      “Okay,” Kosarachi ranted. “We shall see.”

      “Kosarachi my son,” Obiageri called tenderly as soon as the August visitor left. “You have to be very, very careful.”

     “How Mama?”

      “That man is evil.” She informed. “I’m sure your late father told you about this.” She hurriedly added referring to Maduka’s evil nature.

      “Mama, that man cannot do more than a dead rat.” He replied naively.   “You people are just fearing him for nothing.” He concluded.

      Two months later, Kosarachi fell critically ill. Every medical diagnosis in respect to the illness detected nothing, which prompted the intervention of their church Reverend. At the long run, it was ascertained that the unending disease, which had already claimed much of the family’s wealth, was attributed to a spiritual mechanism. Thus, the family was placed on a two-week fasting and prayers after which a deliverance was conducted at the family’s compound at the night of July 7, 1989.

      Something very remarkable and amazing transpired at that very night while the family deliverance was taking place. Surprisingly, Maduka hastily ran out of his house half-naked to Kosarachi’s compound where the deliverance was ongoing. He instantly fell on the ground and sought for their forgiveness having confessed to them that he was solely responsible for Kosarachi’s illness as well as his father’s death. The confession, which kept everyone dumbfounded, was never seen coming by the poor family.

 

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor