"Ijeoma, I am an obanje. At night I see myself at the udara tree with other maidens. When we dance, we hold each others waists, which eats up the musical rhythms. When we eat, we bless each other with a kiss. We play in circles, swaying our arms like the ocean tide. We touch each others breast, vagina, hair and ankle. I don't really understand myself Ijeoma."
"Nneoma you need a spiritualist. My pastor is a strong man, don't worry he will help you Ijeoma said."
**************
"Mortuary is for the dead, cemetery is for the buried ones. What are we going to do in these places?" Nneoma asked pastor Joel.
"Your case needs special visitations and consultations, these places are just an iceberg to your cleansing process, or don't you want to be free?" Asked pastor Joel.
"I need freedom." Nneoma muttered.
"If freedom was this cheap, pastor Joel why haven't you free me from Uke spirits; which has being taking my husbands and children? Ijeoma shedding tears within herself pondered on this soliliquized question.
As if his chi ministered to him, Pastor Joel placed his right hand on ijeoma's chest and his left hand on her abdomen, "Faithful daughter of God your case will soon be over, this years is your year."
This had been one of the stunts he had used to lure Ijeoma to bed three times in a week. Pastor Joel was a psychologist by profession, he needed no medium to predict weak souls. Eyes gave him the gate way.
"Somebody help o!" Ijeoma was shouting as she dashed out in full speed, forgotten to tie her wrapper, rushed to pastor Joel, who was still competing with the frogs at his backyard in noise making.
Striking him with the fist of fury, pastor Joel jumped shouting
"Alleluja! Alleluja!! Ijeoma, there's a problem." he said.
In awe Ijeoma wondered how daddy G.O. knew.
"Yes o it's Nneoma! She is in our room, dancing and clapping to herself. She first started by touching me on my sensitive parts but I took it to be 'anya ura', but got petrified when she started her unknown dancing steps."
"Oh yes! It's time for her salvation! Get me my Olive oil, the cross is behind you on the wall. Wait let me wash my face first" pastor Joel instructed.
Getting off from bed, his mind was on the strategy to use on Nneoma case. His penis said nay, busy saluting and nodding to the same song which Nneoma was dancing; Ijeoma's open laps, reflecting her glory. Their dancing steps was more sensational than Nneoma's. If the bed had mouth, he wouldn't be short of testimony on sunday service.
*******************
"Pastor Joel I can't see my menses."
"Ijeoma is the lord's doing and not marvelous in my eyes. Who is responsible?"
"Sir the miracle was performed by you." Was Ijeoma's reply, when concidentially Nneoma entered the room with a handsome and sexy young man.
"Pastor Joel, I am here to thank you for being a vessel in the lord's hand. I was delivered after the series of praying and fasting we did. Pastor to crown it up, God gave me this man here as my hubby. I am here to introduce him to you."
All responded to the alleluja chant of pastor Joel except Ijeoma; who knew that Nneoma's hubby is responsible for her pregnancy and that pastor Joel's fasting and praying was done on her alter all through those moment.
...................
However, pastor Joel was blessed with a car, three hundred thousand naira and a pregnancy from the same man; whom Ijeoma believes his prayer brought her to.
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HERE ENDS THE STORY TELLING, THANKS BE TO HYPOCRITES.
Written by Enyi Enyi Hycenth
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