The Spirit
A Short Story On The Spirit of Destiny

October 14, 1963. Lagos, Nigeria.

The young mother was backing her baby boy. She was dressed in the traditional attire of the women of the Igbo tribe of Eastern Nigeria. She seemed to be in a hurry as she made her way through the crowd of commuters at the jetty on the Marina. The whole place still had the colourful festoons of the last Independence Day anniversary of the three-year-old Federal Republic of Nigeria. And most people were all cheerful. One could see their smiles from miles as they exchanged pleasantries of felicitations. She had to get to the ferry and it was about to leave for the Apapa wharf across the Lagos lagoon.

“ Ah, woman! Watch where you are going!” cautioned a middle-aged man she nearly collided with as she rushed to pay her fare and collect her boarding ticket. She collected it and hurried as the anchor was being lifted to set the ferry free to set sail. “ Mama, hurry o! The ferry is about to leave,” said the young pretty lady selling the tickets from across the counter. She nodded and lunged forward to enter the ferry and as she stepped into it, she slipped and missed a step. She had her right leg inside the boat and the other leg outside at the edge of the quay. Her heart skipped as she gasped trying not to lose her balance.

“ Yee! Iya yi! Ma para re o! O ma gbe omo da ni!” One of the passengers inside the ferry shouted in the Yoruba language in alarm. And others screamed in fear and panic. The mother was falling off the ferry and as the boat was going back and forth, she could be crushed against the quay if she fell or she could drown if she couldn’t swim. The people inside the ferry and those outside screamed in alarm. And some people ran to her rescue. But it was as if it was too late, because she was falling headlong into the lagoon. Then, she felt a strong hand grabbing her by her wrists and pulled her miraculously into the ferry as if someone was lifting her up and putting her into the ferry. But, she did not see the figure. It was invisible. The people gaped and gasped in panic as they watched her jump into the ferry and helping hands came to hold her still.

“Jesus Christ! Mama baby, God just saved your life.”

“ And your baby as well.”

“ Ah ba! Why did you take such a risk? You should have waited for the next boat.”

The other passengers were commenting on the incident.

“I thank God oh!” She said with a smile of gratitude making her face to glow as she found a seat vacated by another passenger who was happy that she escaped from having a terrible accident. They made the incident the topic of discussion for a while and she breathed a sigh of relief as the ferry berthed at the Apapa wharf. She thanked them for helping her and went on her way to the place she must get to without delay.

When she returned home later that day, she narrated what happened to her husband and their other three children. Two she gave birth to, whilst the oldest one, the nine years old Chinyere was born by another woman her husband would have married. But, his kith and kin preferred her, because they did not want him to marry any woman from another tribe. So, Chiyenre’s mother left without any contest. She was a very beautiful young damsel from the fearless Ibibio tribe of South Eastern Nigeria. But, Chiyenre often came to stay with them, because she loved her father and she resembled him in fair complexion, facial features and even in his gait. And he was proud of her. He also loved the children of his wife. The oldest was the eight years old Chioma the angelic one who was equally very beautiful like Chinyere. Nnamdi his first son was six years old and Chima the youngest one, the cherubic baby that God saved from the accident that could have done terrible damages to him and the mother.

“Gladys, I thank God! But, nothing would have happened to Chima and you,” he said.

“Eheen?” she said. Meaning “ is that so?”

“ Chima is not an ordinary child. He is Godsent. He is a covenant child of the Spirit,” he said boldly.

“ Only God knows sha,” she said and left for the kitchen outside their bed-sitter.

“Mama Bomboy, is Sunday in?” asked an old man wearing a cap; lose tunic and baggy trousers of the same textile of the traditional Yoruba native dress of “ Fila”, “Buba” and “Sokoto” worn by the males with slippers or shoes.

“ Baba Doyin, good evening,” she greeted with curtsy.

The old man smiled.

“ Well done, my fine daughter,” Baba Doyin responded with a grin.

“ Sunday!” Baba Doyin called out as he made for the door of Sunday’s one room apartment.

He was the landlord and Sunday was his favourite tenant. Because, the young man was more or less Yoruba, since he had grown up amongst the Yorubas. He understood the Yoruba tradition and custom more than his own Igbo culture. Sunday had been living amongst the Yorubas since he was nine years old. And he had been initiated into their sacred “Ogboni” society and other native fraternities. In fact, Sunday was also an Ifa High Priest popularly called “Babalawo”. He and the landlord were fellow members of the dreaded “Ogboni”. And ordinary mortals were not welcomed. So, he respected this particular tenant. Sunday had been living here since he was discharged from the West African Frontier Force of the Royal British Army that destroyed the German army and killed that demonic tyrant Hitler. In fact Sunday fought in Burma and only heroes survived the bloodiest battlefields of World War Two, against the fearless Japanese. So, Sunday was no ordinary man. And Sunday also performed magical feats. Like turning an egg into a live cock! Only those who saw it with their own very eyes would believe such an incredible phenomenon.

“ Sir!” Sunday came out to greet the landlord and bowed his head in respect.

“ Omo oluwabi, Sunny Sunny. You will live long,” the landlord said in his native Yoruba Ijebu language.

He patted Sunday on the back.

“I hope you have not forgotten the sacrifice we have to make for the god of iron “ogun” this Saturday. I have bought the cock and palm wine and palm oil,” he said.

“ Not at all, Baba,” Sunday replied.

“Hmmn! Mama Bomboy, wetin you dey cook. The smell dey make my tongue wet oh,” the landlord remarked sniffing the air and turning to look through one of the windows of the general kitchen used by all the residents.

Sunday smiled in appreciation of the landlord’s compliments. Yes his wife was a good cook. She was a beautiful and wonderful wife and mother of his second daughter and two sons and she would bear him more. He was very proud of her. He had a big party to celebrate the naming ceremony of Chioma, his enchanted child. He had a live band with the Atilogwu Dancers to entertain the guests and well-wishers on the street. In fact, the street had to be closed to traffic till dawn. He had the money and he enjoyed spending it to give thanks to the Almighty God for blessing him with such a bouncing baby girl whom he had discovered was not an ordinary child. He was a great diviner and he knew the stars and the signs of the heavenlies. Chima and Chioma were enchanted from the womb. Ordained for greatness. He was glad and grateful to the Almighty God.

Then, the unforeseen circumstances of the fates turned the tables of the events in the world against Nigeria as gruesome deeds were taking place in the country in ethnic conflicts perpetrated by evil politicians who had sold their souls to the devil in return for political power to rule the government of Nigeria. The bloody political crises precipitated Nigeria into an internecine civil war that lasted over three years. And Sunday was separated from his wife and children from 1966 to 1970. And at the end of the horrible and terrible war, he had lost Chioma and two of his other sons born after Chima. Chioma had gone back to the Spirit in the heat of the war as millions of children in the rebels’ Republic of Biafra in the Eastern region were suffering and dying from Kwashiorkor and other afflictions. Sunday was not with his family. He refused to leave Lagos and join the rebels who were fighting for the survival of their Igbo tribe after thousands were massacred in the northern and western regions of Nigeria. The genocide was making headlines all over the world. And the Igbos fled back to their native homeland for safety. And decided to secede. But, the Federal Government of Nigeria refused to recognize the so-called Republic of Biafra. This disagreement plunged Nigeria into a civil war. Igbos were not safe outside their homeland. Thousands were attacked and killed by both the Federal soldiers and hostile Hausa and Yoruba civilians from Kano to Lagos. But, Sunday was safe in Lagos, going to work and living his normal life. The Yorubas regarded him as a naturalized indigene of their tribe. He had tried to persuade Gladys not to return to the East, but she refused and her people insisted that she must return to their homeland in Biafra. She went with their children and he allowed them to go, because he thought the war would soon be over. “This is no real war. They have not seen what it was like to be at war. I was in Burma and I saw real warfare. Not these skirmishes in the bushes and streets of Benin and Enugu between these small boys who will soon run away at the sound of mortars. You wait and see. My wife and children will soon be back,” Sunday said with assurance. But, he was wrong and he regretted losing Chioma, Ifeanyi and Mike to the civil war. He had to console his wife over their terrible loss. Neighbours came to commiserate with them when the survivors returned. If his wife and the children had stayed back in Lagos, none of them would have died. And he thanked God Chima survived.

“ He would have died. But, he refused to die. He was speaking in tongues of strange languages no one understood as he was in fits. People thought he would not survive. But, Chima did,” said Gladys in – between sobs as Sunday hugged her and the three who survived.

Chima was the child of destiny. His covenant-child. A child of the Spirit.


JULY 29,1998. Morovia, Liberia.

Chima was now a major in the Nigerian Army and was the commander
Of an infantry battalion posted to Liberia for the ECOMOG Peace Keeping Force trying to disarm the warring rebels. He had become popular for his fearlessness and bravery in the worst scenes of the battlefields. But, he had not killed anyone and his fellow officers had noticed that he never shot at any human target and yet he had survived. But so many others were killed by hostile enemies of the ECOMOG soldiers in Monrovia. Chima had faced gunfire and no bullet or shell harmed him. The others concluded that he was using charms and wanted him to disclose the secret of his invincibility in battle. But, he refused to divulge it.

“Major Chima, it is only fair if you help us to save lives by sharing the secret of your power with us. We also want to live and not die,” one of his fellow officers said.

“ The otumopo juju whey you dey use must be shared or we go spoil am for you,” said an angry soldier in Pidgin English.
Chima said that it was not his own making, but that of his father.

“And my father is dead!”

The truth was that when he joined the army. An entity visited him at midnight and warned him not to shoot at or kill anybody. Chima laughed.

“ How can you tell a soldier not to shoot at anyone and not to kill, when you very well know that soldiers are trained to shoot to kill in any assignment against their enemies and you either kill or be killed,” he said.

“Chima. In the first place, you are not meant to engage any human being in combat. So, you should not have joined the army at all. Your father should have told you all the laws binding your life on earth. You are different. We are different,” said the entity.

“But, I refused to be initiated. And I have not invoked you or any other spirit since my father died,” Chima replied.

“Then, why are you still keeping the gourd of your destiny?”

“I am keeping it in memory of my father.”

“Oh, custodian of the ether of the Eternal Spirit! Chima. You must never aim your gun at any human being and never shoot at any human being. At the battlefield aim your gun at the sky always and shoot at the space above and no bullet or shell and no human will harm you. You will go in peace and return in peace. So, I have decreed and so shall it be indeed,” declared the entity and disappeared.

Chima knew the ways of the spirit. He was always having visitations whenever there was something urgent and very important for his knowledge and benefit.

There were some soldiers who did not believe him and they planned an ambush to kill him. But, their guns backfired and killed them. The incident made the others to dread him and concluded that Chima was not human, but an incarnate of a spirit. He ignored them until he left the army voluntarily.


One evening Chima was watching “The Pianist”, the classic film by Roman Polanski on a Polish pianist who survived whilst millions of Jews and thousands of Polish Jews were exterminated by the Nazis during World War Two. And his fiancée saw that he was in tears. She came closer to him and asked, “Chi, what is wrong?”

“Why does God permit these horrors and terrors on earth?” Chima asked below his breath.

“Man has the free will to choose his actions in life,” she replied.

“I saw hell as a child during the Nigerian civil war and I saw another hell as a peace keeping soldier in Liberia and Sierra Leone. And I saw that the majority of the victims were the innocent children and women who became orphans and widows overnight due to wars they did not cause. And God was watching silently without coming to rescue and save the innocent ones,” Chima said. “And I asked, where is God?” he added.

“God is blameless for He does not like the innocent to suffer and die. Remember He said; “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord.” God will avenge,” she said.

“Nkechi, you are begging the question. Before God intervened, millions of Jews were already burnt to ashes in the gas chambers and massacred in the World War and till date they have never known peace as they are still fighting for survival even in their own country Israel and God is watching silently. Yet, they have not lost their faith in God,” Chima said.

“ Don’t worry. God knows what He is doing,” Nkechi said.

“ God knows what He is doing and millions of innocent children and women are languishing and perishing every day by day in the Sudan, Congo, Somalia, Lebanon and the other battle grounds of the world,” Chima said.

“Chima, be careful. Lest, you would sin against God,” she warned him.

“Then, God should intervene and save the innocent ones from the wicked,” Chima said and sighed.

Nkechi regarded him and swallowed lumps of saliva. She was very worried about his existentialist opinions. And she had to find a solution to it before their wedding next spring.

Nkechi went to see the senior pastor of the Holy Ghost Church where she always worshipped God. She told the pastor about Chima.

“Bring him here for counseling. He needs deliverance,” said the young and dynamic pastor who was clean-shaven and loved to dress in suits as if he was a banker.

“I will try. Because, Chima is stubborn,” she said.

When Nkechi told Chima that her pastor wanted to see him, he was amused and was willing to meet with her pastor.
“I love such spiritual encounters. I want to learn more. Let us go,” he said.

The encounter was not amusing.

Chima was awed by the revelations of his past by the pastor who never knew his parents. But, the pastor told him all about his ancestral background and even mentioned the name of the spirit his father had made a covenant with to possess Chima.

“The Hamzad is an entity of the seventh dimension. It is a very powerful entity. And with the power of the Hamzad you can even rule the world. And that is the agenda of the spirit for your life. But, thank God for today,” said the pastor.
Chima was attentive to him.

“Give me seven days to meet with God. On the seventh day, you and I will have a vigil at the Bar beach on Victoria Island,” the pastor concluded.

“ Go and pray.”

But, only Nkechi prayed. Chima reluctantly nodded and mumbled, “ Amen.” at the end of each round of prayers she said. Her tears moved him. Because, he could see that she loved him with her heart and soul.

On the fateful seventh day, Chima met with Nkechi’s pastor and both of them left for the Bar beach just before midnight. The pastor told Nkechi to stay behind with some fellow Christians in the church.

“You will do all night vigil here to pray as I have instructed you,” he said to them before leaving.

Exactly at 12 “O” clock midnight.

The pastor began his invocations of the Almighty God Jehovah. Chima watched and the pastor told him to say “Amen” in agreement with his prayers and Chima obeyed. He wanted to see what would happen.

Then, suddenly there was a violent tidal wave as they knelt before the ocean. Chima gaped and gasped. The tidal wave surged toward them threateningly. The pastor stood his ground without even moving an inch. Chima shifted. His heart was throbbing. If the pastor was not afraid, he must not be afraid as well. But, a sudden deafening siren echoing from the depth of the sea pierced his throbbing heart and he wanted to collapse. Then, he saw it!

It was like something he had never seen before. It was hideous.

A towering being emerging from the tidal wave and standing on the top of the waves with the figure of a woman. A female giant. He thought it was the mermaid. But, it was not like the mermaid. It was not half fish and half human. It was in the figure of a human being. A stark naked woman with multiple breasts, dangling from her chest to her waist. A demon.

“Who are you to dare my wrath? You mere mortal born of woman!” Screamed the demon and her voice was like an echoing siren. Her eyes were like beams of light. She had eyeballs of fire and her hair was very long. Flowing from her head down to her feet. Her hair was like the waves of the sea. Chima felt like fainting. But, the pastor was still standing erect with the Holy Bible in his right hand lifted high above his head.

“ Who I am does not matter! Who sent me is the all in all!” Shouted the pastor with all his strength.

“Who? That is not born of woman?”

“ Yes. He was born of woman, but not born of man. He was born of the Holy Spirit! His name is Jesus Christ!” The pastor declared.

The demon screamed and her screams were like a million voices ringing in echoes all over the dark sky. She was screaming hysterically. In shrieks.

“ Damn you son of woman for invoking that name that we must not hear or acknowledge in our kingdom!” She shouted in anger.

“The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.

The world and they that dwell therein.

For He Has founded it upon the sea and established it upon the waters!” The pastor declared quoting the Word of God from his knowledge of the Holy Bible. He had come fully prepared and on fire, enflamed by the Holy Spirit.
He quoted the other invocations and the demon was contorting like a snake in pains. In fits and shrieks.

“Chima now! Quickly! Smash the gourd!” The pastor commanded him.

Chima obeyed at once. He lifted up the gourd of the ether of the spirit that his late father had handed over to him before he died.

“Noooooooooo!” Screamed the demon.

“Yes! Chima smash their gourd of bondage now!”

“Chima, don’t! It is the gourd of your destiny. Break it and you are finished!” She screamed in desperation.

“Chima, the devil is a liar! Your destiny is in the Hands of God and not in any gourd or demon. For behold old things have passed away and all things have become new. Jesus Christ has set you free! And whom the Son has set free is free indeed. For this purpose, the Son of God was made manifest to destroy all the works of the devil!” Declared the pastor aloud and Chima threw the gourd to the ground. The demon dove to prevent the destruction of the gourd. And suddenly, a lightning flashed and struck her.

“ Fire of the Holy Ghost! Consume the works of the devil for this purpose the Son of God Jesus Christ was made manifest to destroy all the works of the devil. Therefore, thou Son of God, Jesus Christ! Destroy all the works of the devil, lest they will destroy us!” The pastor shouted. And another lightning struck the demon and another struck her again.

She screamed and as the third lightning struck her, she was set on fire and started to disintegrate before their very eyes. And her ashes fell into the sea. The tidal waves suddenly receded and the whole sea became still and calm.

The pastor and Chima fell on their knees and were praising and worshipping God. Sudden showers of light rain started to drizzle from the sky. The pastor said; “It is finished!”

They welcomed the showers of rain with open hands stretched out above their heads toward the sky, giving thanks to the Almighty God for their victory. Then, they saw a rainbow across the sky, curving from the clouds to the horizon. It was a sign from heaven to signify the beginning of a new life for Chima. The pastor smiled and Chima smiled in gratitude.
“ Let us go home. It is all over. Chima. You are now free, “ the pastor said and hugged him.

Chima was walking tall in the twilight of a new dawn.

N.B:
I welcome serious critical analysis of this short story.

is this a moonlight story or what .please can i hire you for my child they need a nanny or a pappy to tell them a moonlight story.mail me on lookingforananny@nanny.com

The spirit he was "delivered from" protected his life, and was opposed to war.

If the "evil spirit" had not protected him earlier, he would have been dead. The same "evil spirit" prevented him from killing people in a war. That doesn't sound like an evil spirit or demon to me. It sounds like an angel.

very good, i love to read ur stories right before going to bed. when ar eu publishing a book?

Adetunrayo,
I am very grateful that you obliged to read my short story. Your appreciation of my efforts means a lot to my spirit.

Jayon,
My mother would have been the best person to hire, for she told me so many tales under the moonlight. My new collection of poems[i] Scarlet Tears of London[/i] also contain some stories in poetry such as my Little Red Book of True Love, Aisha and Rakumi and the satirical love story Sunniya about the fanatic Christian beau who loves a Sunni Muslim maiden whose brother Mustafa became a suicide bomber and other funny tales in verse. Your children will enjoy you reading the Scarlet Tears of London to them. It is available on Amazon and other booksellers for only $10 a copy.

Seun,
Chima was initiated by his father into the spiritual realm of the marine spirits and they were only protecting and saving his life for their own agenda. The spirit was not of God.
The Hamzad actually exists and that demon with multiple breasts also exists.

katherinae,
Thank you very much for your kind words.
I have three books already published and you will find the Scarlet Tears of London very interesting. It is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other booksellers. If you are in the US, it will get to you within four days once your order for it. Free delivery is available for orders above $25.

If you do good things, you are good. If you do bad things, you are bad. The so-called demon prevented Chima from killing people while at the same time it prevented people from killing him. That doesn't sound like something a wicked spirit would do. It sounds like something you and I would do if we had the powers!

The "evil" spirit could have protected him without asking him not to kill people, but it decided to ask him not to kill. Does this mean that demons are opposed to bloodshed? I think we need more of such demons in Nigeria!

Evil spirits can masqurade as good as long as the end justifies the means. Note the story says someting about having a plan for Chima to rule. What will happen then is left to imagination.

Why would an "evil" spirit protect Chima in order for him to rule when it can just possess someone else after Chima's death? Is Chima's body the only one available for him to possess? We need to apply reason to our spirituality!

Seun,
Did you know that the economy of Germany was the best during the reign of Hitler?
And did you know that the Nigerian economy fared better during the reign of the evil genius IBB than after him?

The forces of light and darkness choose only those they wish and not everybody can be Prophet Muhammad.

Did you know that the economy of Germany was the best during the reign of Hitler?

No, it was not the best during the reign of Hitler.

And did you know that the Nigerian economy fared better during the reign of the evil genius IBB than after him?

No, the Nigerian economy didn't fare better during IBB's looting spree.

It's amazing the things people say just because they want to justify their religious beliefs.

Seun,
I am disappointed by your conclusions.

Those were not my facts.

Historians confirmed them.

Please, research such statements before posting your replies.

Research on the economy of Germany under Hitler. And how the Nazis had to hold the rest of the world hostage for over five years. My father fought during WW11.

Economists confirmed that the Nigerian economy was better during the regime of IBB than now. Where did all the stolen billions come from? From the moon?
I was engaged in mass literacy projects sponsored by the USAID in Nigeria and also a Unicef consultant in 1988/89 and the Human Developemt Report on Nigeria was produced by the UNDP. Then later, I was working in the campaign office of Alhaji Bamanga Tukur in 1990. I have been inside the government before coming out of the mess of their corruption.
I was the features editor of a children's magazine patronized by the government and with regular supply to the Unity Schools. The wife of the publisher was secretary to the second in command to IBB.Then they made the publisher an honourable member of the National Assembly. I was with them from when I was only 24 to when I left at 27.

I am speaking from the wealth of my experience.

Where did all the stolen billions come from? From the moon?

From the printing mill of the central bank of Nigeria. Duh. A corrupt politician does not need to create any value in order to obtain wealth from citizens. He can just seize it either through increased taxation or indirect taxation (inflation). They can just create more naira and convert it to dollars (hence the perpetual weakening of the naira).

About your story: I think it's the best so far in terms of being rated Excellent by Nairaland members.

Seun,
Allright.

On the rating, I will say thanks for giving me the opportunity to share my stories with others.

The fact is God is the only one who deserves all the glory. Because, I would have died in July 2004. Only a quiet prayer to God saved my life within hours and God took to me to Bonny Island and also led me online and I wrote most of the stories from 2004 to date. And I had a wonderful time with Him this morning. Only God understands me and we are allright.

I am not satisfied with the standard of my English Grammar.

Only the best is good enough for us
~ Bishop Ajayi Crowther