Hi, my name is Oyindamola Oyebade
This is my debut novel titled All things. I will be sharing part of my book on this platform, feel free to check out the full book on Okadbooks(#500) and bambooks


CHAPTER ONE:

FIRST OF ALL, THE INTRODUCTION

Hi everyone! My name is MoyosoreOluwa Atinuke Okeowo, the first child of a simple lower-middle-class Nigerian family of six, and I am here to tell you, my story. I am not just the first child of my parents, but also the first daughter of my parents. I have not always been the first though. My parents once had a child, a son, whom they lost at the age of two. Then, my mum got pregnant with me. But that is a story for another day. No worries, this is the story of my life and I decided to journal every single step I take, I want to be intentional about my life. You may be wondering whether my story will have a happy ending. Well, I do not know the answer to that question myself but I’m sure God’s plan is to give me a future and hope. Jeremiah 29:11. So, you can take a wild guess that it must end well.

Now, let me start all over. My name is MoyosoreOluwa meaning “I rejoice at the gift of God” and I‘ve had a few nicknames like “Pencil,” “Mo,” “Omo ga,” “Righteous Mo,” and “Okemoney” but I think “Mo” has been the one that has stuck with over the years. I got this particular nickname from my friends while in secondary school. But the truth is even my nickname has a bitter-sweet story to it. As a young girl growing up in Lagos, I noticed that I was always taller than my friends, whether in church, school, or even among my peers on the street. I never paid much attention to it until I got to secondary school- Bright High School. Chai, those girls can be mean. They dealt with me and called me several names from “tallest” to “ladder,” all sorts. I was nicknamed “Mo tall” which literally means “I am tall.” My mates pestered me a lot, but gradually they began to get used to my above-average height. However, the turning point for me was when another tall student joined us in S.S. 2. He was so tall, taller than I, that the attention automatically shifted from me to him. This new student was nicknamed “Longman,” and our classmates bugged him a lot too. So, instead of “Mo tall,” my nickname was gradually shortened to “Mo,” then my sibs picked up on it and here we are, years later.
“MOYO!”
“Ma!” I responded. That is Mummy calling me. Guys, I must tell you this, my mummy calls me about twenty times daily, as in “Moyo, wa wo nkan? Moyo, did you hear? Moyo this, Moyo that, Moyo, what are we eating?”
Anyways, this is my first time writing, or let’s say this is my first time using a diary and I thought I could write without being interrupted.
“Moyo! Sa ni jeun ni? Won’t we eat?”
“Mo ti n bo! I am coming, ma.”
Guys, I will be back.

I get up with the whole of my 6-foot body frame from the bed, close my diary, and go see my mum as usual, and being a Saturday morning, she asks me to prepare breakfast- Moimoi and pap. Only God knows who came up with the Nigerian family food timetable, as in, it’s either pap with Akara or Moimoi on Saturday mornings, but it has to be a meal from the beans family (just thinking about it makes me roll my eyes).
Ok guys, let me introduce you to my family. My parents are both in their late fifties and are doing okay if you know what I mean. Just thinking about it now, it seems weird that I do not know my parents’ exact age. When we were much younger, we would ask our daddy for his age, and he would say 40+, so it’s just safe to say that they are in their late fifties or early sixties. Anyways, they were okay as they didn’t flog us unnecessarily. There were some occasional shouting, plus some corporal punishment now and then, you know, like the typical Nigerian parents. God bless them because they make sure our needs were met- I mean, they try sha. They express love in their way though it’s not they use affectionate words like “I love you” or “sweetheart.” In fact, my mum calls my dad “Daddy “and my daddy calls his wife “Mummy” or “Iya Jomiloju,” depending on his mood.
I grew up with morning and night devotion bells ringing, praying with the anointing oil, singing choruses, playing suwe or catcher, and all those good stuff. Anytime I watch those comedy shows on social media that recall the early 90s in Nigeria, I just look up and thank God for so many things because I can relate. Growing up was fun, I guess. It’s not like we were poor or lacking anything but we were doing okay, if you get my gist. My sibs and I attended a private primary school, followed by a high-ranking public secondary school. We didn’t grow up having bicycles or any fancy toys- but we had fun. I remember, on a few occasions, my mum would come home with Mr. Biggs. (Interestingly, I also remember Mummy telling us when we were older that some of those contents in the Mr. Biggs nylon were bought off the street. Can you imagine she swindled us?). Also, I have a memory of going to Lagos Bar Beach with my cousins but I cannot even remember who took us there. I recall vividly watching the story of the crucifixion of Jesus on television, and I remember how I cried every year that the movie was aired on TV. In addition, I have a memory of me going with my siblings to LTV 8 during the Christmas festive season one particular year, and I made a “special request.” So, I can say that my childhood was fun. I am grateful to God for His mercies thus far.

Early in the year 2019, during the annual fasting program in my church, I was going through the prophesies that God gave the General Overseer for the new year, and yes, I need to tell you something important about myself. I am a born-again Christian (all CAPS!) and I attend the Redeemed Christian Church of God, House of Prayer Parish. Yea, just saying that loud gives me joy because I am happy to be associated with Christ. Well, has it been rosy? Definitely not! But I keep pushing and striving toward perfection. If you understand the gravity of my faith in Christ, you will understand why I am excited to say that loud. So, as I was saying, something caught my attention Church’s Church Facebook page. It’s the individual prophecy which reads Isaiah 3:10-11 and I decided to study that Bible verse which says:
“10Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well with him: for they shall eat the fruit of their doings. 11Woe unto the wicked! it shall be ill with him: for the reward of his hands shall be given him.”
Verse 10 caught my attention. I understood it as a prophecy which means that it is God’s word and it will not return without accomplishing that which it was sent to do. I believe with all my heart that God’s word is infallible, so if I fulfil my part, God is committed to doing His part. And, of course, I want all to be well with me, especially, as it relates to marriage.
Come December 25, I was going to be twenty-nine, just a few steps away from #thirtyandthriving abi #thirtyandfabulous on my social media handles. In fact, I have been eyeing the various photo shoots I will do for my thirtieth birthday, and I have even been daydreaming about the surprise party I might even get from le boo. I don’t even mind #thirtyandpregnant sef. Would you blame me after all those things I see on Facebook every day? Omo, I am expectant! The Bible says that the expectations of the righteous shall not be cut off, so my dears, I am expectant! Anyways, everything in my life is going on fine, well, not a hundred per cent fine sha but I have something to be grateful for. I know that apart from being expectant, there’s another part to it that needs violence, so I must take it by force. For the year 2019, Baba God! Na me and you, I die here. Frankly, I feel worried sometimes, but I try to stay strong, trusting that God makes all things beautiful in His time. You know, I want to be intentional with my life, so on my social media platforms, anytime I post a Bible verse or picture, I always write ‘’Righteous Mo” which is my abridged version of “Say ye to Moyo, that it shall be well with her.” Well, when I say social media, I mean Facebook and WhatsApp, because those are the only platforms where I am active. I have an IG account, but I hardly use it. I just love Facebook.

CHAPTER TWO

BATTLE OF THE MIND

Sitting in my parent’s living room, I’m lost in thoughts. I am having a recount of major events of my life, and I feel discouraged, down, and even a little depressed sef. Like seriously, why am I like this? Why am I this tall? Why do I have large feet? That is how I will waka taya in Balogun market, just to get my right shoe size. How did one end up finishing secondary school at the age of 17, how? When my mates finished at age 15, 16! How did JAMB jam me three times before gaining admission to the Federal University of Agriculture, Abeokuta? Even though there were other means of gaining admission into the university besides JAMB, like pre-degree and diploma courses, but my parents couldn’t afford the fees! And to think I was not even offered my course of choice. Why? How on earth did I end up with a course like Horticulture, especially with the present economic situation of Nigeria? What do I expect to do with horticulture eh? Who employs horticulturists? I wanted to study Microbiology. In fact, I had already mapped out where I would work in the future, I could picture myself working in a lab with my spotless white lab coat. Oh my goodness! I had my life planned out. Who made me accept this kin course of study? Well, I can’t blame myself. After sitting at home for two years, I just had to accept the course. Truth be told, I would have accepted any course for that matter.
How did I miss two husband materials, George and Kehinde? Chai, how? Especially George Ajayi, tall guy, Bible-teaching, tongue-speaking! He did tick many of my boxes. We were both tall. (Please don’t blame me. With my height, I cannot settle for a short guy because I can’t afford to be looking down at my husband). We were both in the drama department in the campus fellowship. When I first joined the fellowship, I was very reluctant because I wanted a place where I could serve God without being judged. I couldn’t understand how students could be pastoring their fellow students. Also, it was inconceivable that in my second or third year, I would be expected to address fellow students who are senior by just a year or two by appellations like “Bro” and “Sis.” Abeg, I don’t want insult. Anyways, I eventually joined the fellowship where I met George. He was a member of virtually all the fellowship departments – drama, Bible study, evangelism and academics, just name it. He was one of those brothers in the fellowship that was free with everyone. He would welcome first-timers, dance when the choristers are singing, and pray aloud; an all-rounder who really knew how to carry people along. I loved everything about him; to crown it all, he was also living off-campus like me, two streets away from my apartment. We were both at the same level, but he was in the Mathematics department. In the first semester of my first year, I failed MTS 105 and was required to re-take the course in the first semester of my second year. And who offered to teach me Mathematics tutorials if not George Ajayi. That was how we got close and somehow, I found myself in the drama department. He was just that much of a blessing to me. He encouraged me to join the workforce of the fellowship. I can’t sing very well but I know I could if I tried but I felt the choir was too large, so I didn’t join the choir. The ushering department was a no-go area for me; my height would draw too much attention for comfort. So, I joined the drama department even though I knew I was not a good actor but I figured I could work in the background, making myself useful with things like stage preparation and costume designing. So I did enjoy being in the drama department, working alongside George. We had a nice bond. Thinking back to those years, I find it difficult to lay my finger on why or how we stopped being close friends, but along the line, he almost lost his daddy, then the scramble to finish with a good 4-point GPA, and the carry-over course I had in my first semester 400 level. Somehow, with all those happenings in our lives, we simply drifted apart. Just like that! Ha! And to think that he was born in the same year as I. While I was born on 25th December, he was born on 28th February, so I would bug him about not being complete because he was born in an incomplete month, and he would call me his younger sister. By the time we were holding a send-forth service for him along with his mates in the fellowship, we both promised each other to keep in touch. I knew where he was deployed as a Youth Corper for his primary assignment in Benue State to teach Mathematics in a secondary school. But, we still lost touch somehow, and that was it. A relationship of almost 4 years! Well, we were not in a defined relationship, but I was sure that the relationship was going somewhere.
*******
“MOYO!!!”
“Ma!” Chai, this woman will not finish me. Being the firstborn is not easy sha. Sometimes, I feel like an assistant parent.
“Come o! See something!” I got up to go and meet her where she was in her bedroom. She handed her mobile phone to me.
“Please, help me save the number Mummy Zonal sent to me. My phone is misbehaving.” I collected the phone from her.
“What name do you want me to save the number with, ma?” I asked as I help to navigate the phone.
“Mummy School,” she answered coolly.
“Which one is Mummy School again? Doesn’t she have a name?” I fired back, a little bit pissed off for bringing me all the way to her room just to save a phone number.
“Ko kan e! It’s not your business! Just save it as Mummy School,” she snapped back.
“Na wa o. That was how you saved the new Pastor’s wife as Mummy New Pastor.” I tried to shed more light on her situation.
“O se. That is none of your business,” she fired back angrily.
“I’m just saying that saving contacts by their actual names will make it easier when you are looking for their details on your phone,” I explained further.
“O se, thank you,” she remarked. As I was about to leave, she asked, “What are we having for dinner?”
“I’m thinking eba or semo, or which one do you prefer, ma?”
“Anyone is fine. O se, oko mi, inu e a dun.”
“Amin!” As I walked out, I wanted to engage her in a conversation but I didn’t want to start what I couldn’t finish. Here I was, a few minutes ago, drowning in my personal worries, but looking at the bright side, I have almost everything I want. Almost! For this, I am grateful.
“Jomjom!” I called my youngest sibling and only brother.
“Ma!”
“Put water on the stove, let’s make dinner – either eba or semo,” giving him instructions, “and, yes, gas has finished, so we switch to the stove.”
“Okay, ma,” he replied.
As I turned to go to my room, I heard a song playing on his phone. Imole de o, okunkun parada…
“What song is that?” I asked.
“It’s a song we will be ministering in church in the next few weeks. I’m listening …”
“I mean, who sang it?” I interrupted him.
“Dunsin Oyekan. It’s titled Imole de, I think you will like it,” he replied cheerfully.
“Yes, I think so too.”

CHAPTER THREE:


LIGHT UP!


Friends, I forgot to introduce you to my siblings. Our youngest is Oluwajomiloju David, and just from his name, you can decipher that there is a story surrounding his birth because Oluwajomiloju means “God has surprised me.” As I explained earlier, my parents’ first child was a son who died when he was about two years old. I don’t know the full details because we simply don’t talk about it in my house, more like a sacred topic. Sometimes, I am curious to know what happened but on the few occasions that I tried bringing it up with my mum, she either got teary-eyed or even ended up crying. I also remember my dad begging me and my younger sisters never to ask such questions again, so to date, we can’t explain the story behind the demise of our beloved elder brother. But, that’s by the way, so you can imagine the joy my parents felt when they realized our youngest was a boy. Only God understands why male children are so important to African parents. To be honest, my sisters and I were extremely jealous, starting from the moment they brought him from the hospital to his naming ceremony. It was something else, the party was huge. I can still remember the picture that we took as a family during his naming ceremony, which is the only family picture framed in our living room to date. It seems as if he was the one my parents were waiting for to make our family complete. We call him “Jomjom,” and he is such a pleasant child. Right from his early years in school, he stood out academically. In Primary One, he came out at the top of his class in Mathematics and Social Studies, and ever since, he has been bringing lots of pleasant surprises to our family, so I am super proud of him.

My immediate younger sister is Oluwatobi (Tobi for short) which means “God is big.” Tobi is a nurse, she graduated a few years ago from a school of nursing in Abeokuta, Ogun State. She works with a private hospital and the pay is good, at least, for starters, but she still wants to be a public servant. Well, I don’t blame her. Who does not want job security in Nigeria? And there’s good news! She has a fiancé, well, I call him her fiancé because he is well-known in my house. I do not even remember if there was a proposal, but all we know is that he is well-received by my family, and no one has anything against the relationship. I guess they are just taking their time to seal the deal.
But my youngest sister is phenomenal. Her name is Ifedunni, meaning “It is sweet to have love,” but we call her “Ife” or “Ify” for short. She’s a Geography graduate from the University of Lagos. When she was still a “Jambite,” she would often shout “Great Akoka!” in the house. She would go on and on about the happenings on campus, the lagoon front, the halls, and the squatters. If she’s at home, then there’s fresh gist for everyone. Abeg she’s a great influencer, she can sell anything, and she’s set on a mission to put our family in the limelight. My mum often says to her, “Just make sure you put us in the limelight in a positive way.” She is currently serving as a Youth Corper in Ondo State, but it feels like she lives in Lagos. She’s home almost every other weekend, claiming she has a job somewhere on the island. If you ask her what she does for a living, you will hear things like actor, content creator, brand influencer, make-up artist, etc. My dad will always say, “What are you influencing? Just remember the daughter of whom you are.” Ife sings well, and Jomjom has basic drumming skills, so when the duo are at home, the house is always lively, the family devotion gets more interesting, and we get to sing a few more choruses than usual. After singing choruses, Jomjom reads the Open Heavens Devotional, then Daddy asks us to contribute to the devotional lesson. You need to hear Ify’s point of view. Sometimes, I wonder if we are still brethren, in short, I think my baby sister needs prayers. In my house, no one is above morning devotion, my dad still rings the prayer bell like a proper member of Christ Apostolic Church (CAC) where he grew up, and my mum still sings off-key. You don’t want my mum leading the choruses for the night devotion, her off-key notes are enough to put anyone to sleep.

*******

Back to the present…

As I was walking back to my bedroom down the hall, I realized I couldn’t keep off the song I heard from Jomjom’s phone, Imole de… That’s all that registered in my spirit. So, I began to agree with it. Light has come in the name of Jesus, my light has come in the name of Jesus. Jesus is the light of the world, I will shine, because Jesus shines, I will shine. I say no more darkness in my home, in my life, in my mum’s health, in my dad’s business, no more darkness, I prophesy. I will shine, no more darkness, no more shame, I will shine, my light will shine. I am created to shine. Imole de! Light has come in the name of Jesus…
As I continued in prayers, I decided to look for the full song, so I typed “Imole de” on my phone’s Google search and I saw both the lyrics and the video. I decided to read the lyrics first.
Where's darkness at the sight of light
Evaporated at the glimpse of light
You're the light that makes my face shine bright
As I look Your face
I become the light
Where's darkness at the sight of light
Evaporated at the glimpse of light
You're the light that makes my face
Shine bright, so bright
And as I look Your face, I become the light

Imole de oh, okunkun parada
Imole de oh, okunkun parada
Imole de oh, okunkun parada
Imole de oh, okunkun parada

Somebody say, let there be light
In the name of Jesus
Everybody say

Where's darkness at the sight of light (Evaporated)
Evaporated at the glimpse of light (You're the light that makes my face)
You're the light that makes my face shine bright (As I look Your face, Jesus)
As I look Your face, I become the light
Somebody declare, say

Where's darkness at the sight of light (Evaporated)
Evaporated at the glimpse of light (Somebody say You're the light)
You're the light that makes my face shine bright (As I look Your face)
As I look Your face, I become the light…
As I read the lyrics, I knew I had to watch the video. It was as if my eyes were opened, and I continued to pray in the spirit. This song was for me. The light of the world has stepped into my case, darkness be gone in the name of Jesus. I have realized that in my faith journey, sometimes, I can’t pray well but some songs just sit in my heart and I could sing it for days. I don’t know if that happens to you but it happens to me occasionally. But this time, I am in tune with my spirit, so I began to speak in the spirit, commanding every form of darkness be gone in my life. I just couldn’t shake off the feeling that the song was for me. Imole de, okunkun parada. I made a mental note to search for the minister, check out other songs by him, and follow him online.
Yes, my light has come in the name of JESUS…
Throughout the week, that was all I sang, praying light into my life and my family.

CHAPTER FOUR:

FAVOUR


Oluwa o! I yawned. Today is slow sha. It is just a few minutes after two in the afternoon. I do not know if it is the fasting or the boredom at the office, but the place is dry like harmattan bread, coupled with the disturbing generator noise from our neighbours. We have not had an event this month, save for the two naming ceremonies we had back-to-back last week. My boss, Dr. Feyi Gbadamosi, fondly called Doc, is not at work currently. She has a doctoral degree from the University of Georgia in the United States, yet she came back to Nigeria to start an event planning and management business in Nigeria. Talking of people following their passion, Doc is incredibly good at her job; her service delivery, team-building activities, and even all the vendors she works with, are equally good. She has found her place in a crowded industry and is a force to reckon with. Baba God, please create space for me too.
Sitting in the beautifully decorated office, I thought of my boss. Dr. Feyi of Classic Events and Planning Worldwide… Chai! That woman has career goals o! She is almost 40 and she’s already “made.” She is a definition of an early achiever. Coupled with the fact that she is from a wealthy family, with the right connections, and God on her side, she’s right there at the top, doing what she knows how to do best. And she will never fall lailai. God will not allow my source of daily bread to spoil in Jesus’ name. I know that God is my source, but He has put some channels on earth to feed us. Doc is one of those channels for me, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to work with her. Sometimes, I silently wish I could do this type of business. I have heard severally that to be wealthy in life, business is the way to go, but frankly, I do not know how true that is because not everyone is cut out for business.
Apologies for the digression. Speaking of my boss’ business, I don’t think I can do it full-time, I mean, have you met those crazy rich clients that are so fickle and never satisfied? They call every hour and change their minds about everything- flowers, sitting arrangement, venue, and so on. There was even an event where the client changed the venue two days to D-day. Doc was smiling on the phone and nodding her head saying, “I understand, ma. There’s no problem. We are ready, ma.” Understand, my foot! Who does that? Merely thinking about those difficult clients gives me the chills.
Then my mind shifted to the elephant in the room- my boss is in the “waiting room,” her family has been trusting God for a child. Sometimes, I feel that she works this hard as a means of distraction but only God knows, she might just be this hardworking with or without children. Maybe it’s my line of thought that is making my tummy turn, or the noise emanating from the generator in the neighbouring building. Whatever the reason, I am just tired. I peep into the other office to check on my colleagues. I can see only Sisi Lola deeply engrossed in what she is watching on her phone, so I go back to my seat. A few minutes later, a Bible verse dropped into my spirit. It was something about the barren woman singing, so I brought out my phone to google where it was in the Bible. I found it in Isaiah 54:1 where it reads:
“’Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,’ says the LORD.”
I studied other Bible translations too, they were saying the same thing about how the barren woman will have more children than the married. Then, I began to pray in the spirit and in my understanding: “Doc Feyi, you will burst out in singing, you will bring forth seeds, you are fruitful, you will sing for joy, receive the strength to burst into songs- songs of victory, songs of joy. This is the word of the Lord concerning you. Receive your heart’s desire, your singing is now in the name of Jesus…”
I gently put my head on my desk as I continue to pray for Doc. Just then, Sis Bukky from church flashed across my mind, she is also trusting God for a child. I began to raise an altar of prayer for her as well. “Sis Bukky, your time has come in the name of Jesus, you will burst out in singing, receive your victory in Christ, you are fruitful, you are complete in Christ Jesus.” Before I knew it, I was praying for the Bellos and the Ezes, friends that I know that were also in the waiting room. I prayed for them as God gave me utterance. By the time I was done, it was a few minutes to four in the evening. Well, I can as well call it a day. Then the song dropped into my spirit again: “Imole de o, okunkun parada…” I used my earplug and played the song, humming along as I packed up for the day. I immersed myself into the song, it was like heaven is on the move. I think the last time I was mentally, physically and spiritually soaked into a song, it was Waymaker by Sinach. That song blessed me for months, I just could not get enough of it. As I prepared to leave, bidding my colleagues goodbye, I called my boss to let her know I was leaving the office and ask if she needs anything. But it rang out, so I dropped a text, and almost immediately, I got a reply. Everything is good which means I get to go home. I had barely left the office building when my phone rang. I knew it was my mum because her timing is out of this world. She calls me right when I’m about to leave the office. I picked it up reluctantly.
“Ma!”
“Moyo, please buy some watermelon and grapes on your way from work. You should be on your way by now, abi?”
I just knew she wanted something.
“Answer now! Shebi you are on your way now. Safe trip! God will bring you home safely.”
“Amen,” I replied stiffly. Then, she ended the call. This woman does not know that grapes are expensive at all. Since I brought it home a few times consecutively last year, she has not allowed me to rest. “Ha, these grapes are nice o. I hope they are not too expensive, it’s only in movies that I see them displayed on the dining table. Daddy, abi you don’t like it ni? It is very nutritious. These grapes are good for the elderly. God bless you, Moyo, your children will take care of you, too.”
But seriously, I like how I randomly bring stuff home from work, it makes me feel responsible. I like how Jomjom gets excited whenever I return from work and hand him a nylon. Every time, he would genuflect gently and say, “Thank you, sister Moyo” while my parents say, “God bless you.” But, every day is not Christmas na. Omo, I must save, I have budgets, abi this is how my life is going to be? I have to plan na. I am planning to get married. Is it beans that I will use to buy my wedding gown, or organize my wedding? Do not get me wrong. I have been saving, but this year, I decided to increase my savings, so that when I finally meet my husband and he asks me how much I can offer, I can conveniently give a reasonable response. I must be prepared financially too na. I grudgingly crossed to the other side of the road, bought a few pieces of watermelon and grapes from my dear “customer,” and crossed back to get a tricycle that will convey me to the main road where I would take a bus that is headed my way home.
Speaking of my place of work, it’s important that I tell you how I got this job. My dears, favour works o. My boss started her company in Abuja, and she must have been doing well, at least, from the stories I heard. Then, her husband got promoted at work and was transferred to Lagos. Initially, they both were shuttling to and fro for almost 4 months, but one morning, she said she felt led to move her business to Lagos. And to think that this my Oga does not like Lagos, she is one of those Abuja people that think that Lagos is too rough. After relocating, she was desperately in need of an office space. The agent that she was using got her a space on the island, but her spirit was not just in agreement with the place. Then he told her that there was another building under renovation on the mainland which should be ready in six weeks. That’s how my boss and her husband came to see the place and they were discussing it outside the building. And as a covenant child that I am, just about that time, I was on that same street going from one office building to another, trying to convince anyone that would listen to give me a job. I even dropped my CV with the gateman at the only microfinance bank that was on the street. I was almost done for the day because there was one more office building at the far end of the street where I noticed three people talking- two men and a woman. As I passed by them, I clearly heard the woman say, “…and I will need like three people to join us. Peter has promised to make some announcements in church”. That was all I heard o. I just started praying in my heart as I walked farther away from them to gather my thoughts. I began to confess positively to myself, “The Bible says wherever the sole of my feet shall tread, I shall possess. I have stepped on this street, I possess it, my feet are ordered by God, my time is now, and I call forth my job on this street in the name of JESUS. I RECEIVE IT. Abraham’s blessings are mine; my time is now.” Whoever found the saying that there is power in positive confession did well. By the time I looked back to observe the situation, I saw the men shaking hands, while the woman was walking towards a parked Jeep by the side of the road. I increased my pace, walked up to them, and introduced myself.
“Good day, sir and ma. My name is MoyosoreOluwa Okeowo. I’m a graduate of the Federal University of Agriculture, Abeokuta, and I’m looking for a job.” That was all. The husband looked at his wife and said, “Okay, let me have your number.”
“Can I give you my CV instead?” I replied.
“That is fine. Bring it!”
That was how the man collected my CV. His wife, now my boss, did not utter a word. She was just looking at me, but as I turned to leave, she said, “What church do you attend?”
“The Redeemed Christian Church of God, House of Prayer,” I replied.
Then she smiled and entered the car. When I got home and recounted my experience to my parents, Mummy almost chopped my head off.
“You should have said more. Those kind of people don’t remember things like that, they have lots of things on their minds jare. Even your CV would have been misplaced by now. You should have collected their numbers. Moyo, you didn’t handle the situation well. You should have gone on your knees and begged them to call you, or do something remarkable that they will never forget.” As Mummy was saying all these things, I kept wondering if I truly did not manage the situation well enough. Should I have gone on my knees and be dramatic? Who even hires a horticulturist in Nigeria? I am desperate but I don’t think e reach to be kneeling for strangers on the road! All my dad said was, “The earth is the Lord’s.” Trust my dad not to be bothered about things like this.
At night, as I lay on my bed trying to sleep, I just couldn’t shake off the feeling that I had lost a very good opportunity. All sorts of thoughts crisscrossed my mind, but finally, I settled on one idea: I’ll go to that building two to three times every week to inspect the building whether it is complete. The more I thought about the idea, the more logical it seemed to me until sleep finally swept me away.
The next day was a Saturday, so I thought I could talk to someone about it. However, the more I thought about it, the more foolish the idea started to sound. Father, please don’t let me be put to shame o. I know it’s just been four weeks since I finished my NYSC but I don’t mind if I can get this job. What kind of job will it be? How much am I worth? If it’s a salesgirl job, can I take it? These were some of the thoughts that passed through my mind. I don’t even know either of them, how much more their names. Even the popular saying “Google is your friend” was useless to me. Abi these people are ghosts ni. There was no way I could look for them, so the only feasible option was to go to the site where I met them and look around to see if I can find a banner with the contact details of the construction company doing the renovation. Once I reach out to them, I would try to persuade them to share the contact of the agent that sold or rented the building. Then, finding my potential employers would be just a step away. O kare! Well done, Miss FBI! I gave myself a mental praise. Okay, I know that was a long shot but it should be worth the effort. Anyways, at the end of the day, I could not bring myself to tell anyone about it anymore.
Abba, take the wheel.
It’s the Lord’s Day, and as I prepare for church, all I could think of was the job opportunity. It began to look like I had collected the steering wheel from God and I was driving the car. What clothes will I wear when I start the job? How much will I use for transport daily? How much will be my salary? I hope the pay will make sense. What will be the closing time? I hope I will not work on Saturdays and Sundays. I hope my boss will be nice. I pray my workplace will have internet so I can use free internet. From the workers’ meeting to the Sunday school, I was distracted all through. It was only during the sermon that I managed to get something as Deacon Ken continued his preaching.
“...do not worry about tomorrow, I’m not the one telling you that, it’s God. He is telling you, ‘My son, my daughter, do not worry.’ Please let us open our Bibles to Matthew 6:34. Let’s read it aloud together. I, 2, 3 go!”
And the congregation chorused:
“Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
I did not need a soothsayer to tell me that the message was for me. Moyosore, do not worry!
The next day, nothing prepared me for the shock that I was about to receive. My phone rang about a few minutes past eight in the morning.
“Hello! Who am I speaking with?”
“Good morning, Moyo. This is Feyi of Classic Events and Planning. We met a few days ago at the office building on Awolowo Street.
“Yes, ma. Good morning, ma.”
“Good morning to you, too. Do you know Onyx Estate? Hello, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here, ma,”
“I asked if you know Onyx Estate.”
“I don’t know Onyx Estate exactly, but I have heard of the place. I can ask around on how to get there, ma.”
“Ok, that’s good. Can you come today?”
“Hmmm…”
“I said, ‘Can you come today?’”
“Yes, ma, I can, but I don’t know how long it will take me to get there from my house.”
“Where do you stay?”
“Railway crossing, ma.”
“Hmmm… I don’t know where that is but if you can make it today, I’ll appreciate it.”
“Ok, ma.”
“See you, Mo.”
Click! The line went off. For a full minute, I was staring at my phone. Then, I went on my knees straightaway, singing in my loudest voice.
Waymaker!
Miracle worker!
Promise keeper!
Light in the darkness!
My God, that is who you are.
I succeeded in waking Tobi who was taking a nap after her night shift while my dad rushed to my room to find out what happened. After downloading the gist to him and Tobi, I told him to go tell his wife as I began to find my way to Onyx Estate. Me? Onyx Estate? A job after four weeks of National Youth Service! In this Lagos eh, okay o. She even called me “Mo”. Mo, you too sef! That’s how you were just doing like a bush girl, saying ma, ma, ma, up and down. Omo! Who says there’s no God? This my God is too good o. It's like I’m dreaming. Eh en, me! Job without hustle! Father, you do well o. This can only be you. I kept clapping my hands in wonder. Then it dropped in my spirit, “When the LORD turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream.”
Yes, Lord! Thank you, Jesus! I agree, it’s like a dream o. My time is now, Lord. I like this kind of blessing, blessing without stress. Thank you, Jesus. I began to pray in the Holy Ghost.
That’s how I got to Onyx Estate. As I stepped into the estate, even the air was different. Walking from the gate to her house, I began to pray in my spirit: “Lord, I take possession of all my blessings in this land, I use this land as a point of contact to all the rich land in Nigeria, and I take what is rightfully mine. Amen!” My dears, money is good! See how house just fine! Who no like better thing? I was admiring all the houses as I walked by them. They all looked beautiful, with no high walls, just pure luxurious-looking houses.
My dears, the rest is history o.
Well, that’s how I joined Classic Events and Planning, no interview, and good pay. Flexible time too, with other small, small benefits. Thinking about how I got this job, I would not advise anyone to go to a random place for job interview if it’s not an office building because strange things are happening in this country! But for me, that was how God ordered my feet.


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ALL THINGS...
By Oyindamola Oyebade

CHAPTER FIVE:


LEAP OF FAITH


“Where is my yellow dress?” I asked no one in particular as I carefully ransacked my cupboard. I put it there because that’s what I want to wear to “Singles for Christ.” I just hope Ife has not taken this dress to Ondo, because I go rake for her seriously. What rubbish! I have told her to tell me before taking my things, simple! A good heads-up will be nice. Or what is the meaning of this rubbish now? What am I going to wear for this program now?
Lemme quickly tell you about “Singles for Christ.” It’s a non-denominational gathering of single Christians aged 23 years and above, whether you are single like a slice of bread like me abi single and not searching. I am not sure but when the Bible says that we should not forsake the gathering of the brethren, I believe this is what it was referring to. The program is loaded; the prayers na fire for fire, and the word is divine, relatable, biblical, and practicable. And to think that I have only attended once. The first and only time I went there, I was like, “Are you sure all these people here are single, especially the guys?” Come and see fine guys. Chai, it’s like there are lots of single people in this Lagos o, even the ladies there too were looking so good that I was beginning to look down on myself. I had to give myself a mental knock on the head. Moyo, you better adjust yourself; you too are fine, God finish work for your body, see height na, see curves na. I am beautifully and wonderfully made. As quickly as those negative thoughts came, I sent them packing with the reassurance from the word of God.
Truth be told, I enjoyed it and I intend to keep attending until I find the right person. Who knows, maybe I will meet him there. But, come to think of it, there might be one or two people that will meet in this program. At least, I am sure of that.


*******

Continuation

****

Tobi came into the room, asking what I was looking for. When I told her, she was sure that our youngest sister had taken it. I was upset. Finally, I settled on a pair of black jeans with a blue and red striped T-shirt, making a mental note to invite Ife to this program. I tried to invite Tobi but she’s a girl going on her lane. Between my sisters, Tobi and Ife, who are two extremes, I’m right in the middle- not too serious, not too carefree. Tobi is the serious life planner. She plans everything, she takes things too seriously, and she’s literally an all-work-and-no-play kind of girl. I’m not sure if it’s her career path that made her like this, but she’s just extra tight and I think that’s why we all love her bobo. Both of them are like Coke and Fanta. You know the saying that opposites attract, yea, that’s what they are. Ife, on the other hand, is a carefree girl with no hard rule lifestyle, the fashionista of our family. If you hear my dad shout, it’s most likely something to do with Ife. The good side to her personality is that if you offend her, she will trash it right away, no time to waste. Recently, she’s been ranting about the family not supporting her dream to be a YouTuber. Which one is YouTuber again? Well, she claimed that as a growing content creator and brand influencer, that’s what she needs to move to the next level. Anyway, I thought you should know more about my mother’s daughters.
As I rode on the motorcycle that took me back home from the singles program, I couldn’t shake off the teachings of Rev (Mrs.) Funke. Her messages were just hitting me back-to-back.
“…some of you just want to get married because of your parents, some of you, because of your age. Some of you, it’s because you want to satisfy your sexual desires, and some of you are under lots of pressure that even if your enemy proposes to you, you will say yes. Ask yourself: “Why do I want to marry?” My sisters and brothers, you need to be able to answer that question. WHY? WHY? WHY? You need to find out. It is after you find out why that we can move on to whom you are to marry. You cannot afford to marry just anyone, that is a costly mistake you don’t what to venture into. If you think I’m lying, you can ask bro Samson, you all know the story. Don’t allow Instagram or your pastor to dictate who you are going to marry…”
But let’s be realistic. Is there a reason to get married? Because this one that she is asking us why, I do not understand. Are the reasons she listed not good enough? I want to get married because I don’t want to be alone; I want to satisfy all my sexual desires with my husband; I want to get married because it is God’s plan for me…
That’s it- GOD’S PLAN.

As I got closer to home, I felt like my eyes of understanding was opened as more messages continued to drop into my heart.
…I want you to get married because it is my plan for you. You are part of a mission. You need to trust me so it can work out just as I have planned it…
“Aunty, we don reach crossing,” came the voice of the bike rider. I looked around and realized that I had arrived at my destination, so I got down from the bike, dipped my hand in my purse and paid him. I crossed to the other side of the road to cover the distance from the bus stop to my home. Trekking home, I began to pray in my heart. I am part of God’s plan. Father, help me to trust your plan completely, help me surrender, don’t let me fall into error…
When I got home, my dad wasn’t pleased with the time that I arrived home. Well, he must understand that I’m not a young lady anymore, so he can’t keep monitoring my movements. The devil wants to use this man to pour sand in my garri by making me angry. The devil is a liar. I did the needful by apologizing to him and told him I will be more conscious about my timing when I’m outside. This man is funny sef. When Tobi leaves home late in the evening for her night shifts, I do not hear him complain, but it’s me that he’s more worried about. Okay o. Father, you can see my situation, help me get out of this house soonest.
After a few hours, I was ready to go to bed, and I continued to ponder on the message that I heard at the program:
“…some of you are waiting for your spouse to come before you advance, but the best time to do anything for yourself is now, don’t wait. If you want to see the world, do it now, travel, take that vacation. If you want to write a book, do it now, if you want to buy a car, do it now, if you want to further your education, get that Master’s degree, get that PhD, do it now, keep moving. If you are not happy as a single person, marriage won’t make you happy. Some of you sisters are just saving the money because you can’t buy a car, you can’t buy a piece of land. Says who? Move on, be busy, you can’t afford to waste your time waiting for your spouse before you achieve things. Let me shock you. Do you know that some people won’t get married until they are in their forties, even fifties? It is not a curse; it is just the plain truth. So, keep living, keep moving, take that leap of faith, just do it…”
Oluwa o! It’s like she came to shatter the table.

Moyo, so what are you going to do now? I’ve thought of moving out for a while but Mum’s health condition has been a major concern. I’ve thought of buying a car and also going for my Masters. These are the three things that I know are huge steps for me, but hearing how we are supposed to be moving on as singles just shows me that I’m on the right path. But it’s only one of the three that I can afford to do right now. I continued to ruminate on these things until I drifted to the unknown world of sleep.
Sunday service was good, and I had a wonderful time in God’s presence but today, I did something that I never imagined I would ever do in church- counting the offering. It was not intentional though. I was drafted into the financial team because they were short of hands. The financial team works under the Ushering department where I serve in the church but I had never worked with them. When I joined the Ushering department initially, I struggled with my self-esteem, but as time went on, I gained courage and confidence. Truth be told, I joined the unit because I was lacking in boldness and needed an avenue to develop myself. I wanted to be able to stand in front of anyone. Today, I feel blessed because I’m a lot better than when I first graduated from the university. I no longer consider my height a curse; I can now walk upright.
As I sat down in the living room, thinking of the similarities between our ever-absent power supply situation and our ever-constant Sunday lunch of rice and stew, I overheard Jomjom telling my mummy about the testimony that someone shared during the Sunday service. The lady’s name is Chichi, about 23 years old, a graduate of a top private university in the country who felt led to apply for a Master’s program in the country instead of going for her NYSC. She got a full scholarship as the program was affiliated with another top school in Europe. As he continued, I heard him tell Mum that he would like to study Engineering at the University of Lagos (Unilag) and further his education in the UK thereafter. Then it hit me that I can further my education. If I can’t do it in the UK, then I could self-sponsor here in Nigeria. My savings should be able to cover it, at least. To be honest, I was getting more convinced to buy a car before I heard this discussion, but on a second thought, who wants to be stuck in Lagos traffic on workdays? I don’t think I really need a car, more so, I often use the company’s minivan to run official errands. Besides, my church is quite near the house, so where would I drive the car to? And more importantly, I don’t even know how to drive sef! Who is deceiving whom? Right there and then, I made up my mind that I would go back to school, but to study what? I would not like to continue on my previous path, so I must do my research and choose wisely. Plus, I also have a problem of where to do it.
As I hear Jomjom talk about Unilag, I cannot help but roll my eyes. Of course, who wouldn’t want to go to Unilag with the way Ife goes on and on about the school? But, by the looks of things, it seems that it will have to be one of my options for graduate studies if I still want to keep my job.
The next day, I set the ball rolling by visiting the school’s website to do some digging. I even took the liberty to write to some lecturers to explore the probable courses I could study despite my background. The more research I did, the more convinced I got about pursuing graduate studies. Within two weeks, I was fully armed with the necessary information, so I officially informed my parents who encouraged me and prayed for me. My one and only fear were whether I would still be able to retain my job. To my greatest surprise, my boss agreed. The only drawback is that I wouldn’t be paid full time during my studies, plus I need to find a new receptionist. I jumped at the offer. She even offered to let me keep my job as long as I want, even if I want to continue to PhD level. PhD ke? Abeg let me see how this one goes first. That is how blessed I am to have Doc as my boss. Father, this boss has been more than a blessing to me, not just me sef, but all her staff. Please wipe away her secret tears. Amen!
The following week, Ife returned home after concluding her one-year National Youth Service. She came back with this gist about a trending Hallelujah Challenge, an online praise and worship program for believers.
“Sometimes, I wonder who you are following on social media, Mo. Didn’t I tell you about it?”
“No, you didn’t!” I countered.
“Do you know Nathaniel Bassey?”
“I know him joor!”
“And you have not heard of Hallelujah Challenge?”
“I think I have heard of it but I am not sure.”
“Are you not on Instagram?”
“Instagram ke? No. I’m mostly on Facebook and I follow his fan page o.”
“Ha! Who is remaining on Facebook? We have moved o, ministry has moved to Instagram joor!”
“But most of my friends are still there. That’s where we catch up occasionally.”
“Eh en! Sister Moyo! Those people that you are seeing on your Facebook feed are on Instagram. Oya, open your page and follow Pastor Nat. All the details are on his page.”
“So how does the program work?” I asked.
“We praise God at midnight for one hour, that’s all. The one that was held earlier this year was for twenty-one days. You need to see us at the Corpers’ lodge, we were all on our phones praising God that even the neighbours knew something was going on. You need to hear the testimonies that are coming from the program, in fact, even from people living abroad.”
“Eh en, that’s fine. I like what I’m hearing, we can do that.”
“But Sister Moyo, this your Instagram is dull na, you are not even following your company on Instagram, only two posts, seven followers, and you are following eighteen people since you opened your account. Na wa for you o. You need to be more social, follow like-minded people, follow your classmates, and you will be behaving like someone that just moved to Lagos yesterday…”
“Just say you want to yab me.”
“I’m sorry. It’s not that, even Sister Tobi that acts as if the world wants to crash sef is active on Instagram, even Twitter.”
“Eh en! That’s good for her. Oya, help me, suggest interesting people to me.”
“It’s like Facebook too. You can start with your classmates and friends from secondary school and university, and IG will even suggest some people that you might want to follow. Follow them, that your favourite musician, Don Moen, Mercy Chinwo, even Daddy G.O. is on IG. Sister mi, almost everyone is on Instagram, and lastly, you need to change this phone, get a nicer phone...”
“That’s ok, I get the gist. I need to upgrade.”
“You don’t know if this is where you will meet your husband.”
“O se, Relationship Coach!” I hailed my sister.
“I’m serious, Sister mi. Do you think it’s only in church abi on the road that you can meet him? People meet online too, you know.”
“I know na, it’s just that I think I’ll prefer the old-fashioned way.”
“Old fashion ko, old school ni! Abeg throw away all those lines of thoughts or you would just be limiting God. Be open. Try new things. Go out, go watch movies. Go to the beach. You and Tobi are the same, honestly. Sometimes, I wonder if we are blood sisters.”
“Ok ma, I’ve heard you. The moral of the lesson is that I should upgrade abi?”
“Yes!”
“Ok ma, point taken.”
After a while, she leaned toward me.
“Sister mi!”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Please, I need that your red handbag. I have an audition next week. Can I use it?”
“Ok, that’s fine.”
“Thank you. That was easy.” Ife beamed a smile.
Now, that is just like my sister. You get to learn something when you are with her. Anyway, the Hallelujah Challenge started the following week and I found it quite impressive. In the beginning, it was hard because I would go to bed late and Ife had to wake me up at midnight, coupled with the fact that I still had to wake up early to prepare for work the following day. Ife was the alarm clock while I was the data provider, ensuring that there was data on Ife’s phone every day till the seventh day when everyone in the house eventually joined. On a personal note, I was very intentional about my requests. I had lots of requests but four were top on my list- my marital settlement, my Master’s program, my mum’s health, and a ‘Samuel’ for my boss. Coupled with the fact that the Holy Ghost service for the next month was in a few days, I could tell that I was on a good path. I could just tell that my breakthrough was near.
Happy new month, everyone!
Officially, the countdown to the commencement of my Master’s program has started. I’m excited and nervous at the same time. Come 18th of this month, a new life begins for me.
What the Lord has started, He will complete!

CHAPTER SIX:


FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN


I woke up today feeling tired, the kind of feeling that you have when you’re sure that you had a dream which seems important but you still cannot remember any part of it. I dislike feeling this way because it makes me feel useless and powerless. Truth be told, I rarely have dreams, but this time around, I’m pretty sure that I had a dream. I just can’t recall it at all. So frustrating! As I got up to do my morning devotion, I saw that my sister, Tobi, was already up praying. I could hear her praying in the spirit and I smiled to myself. Prayo mama! The devil is in trouble today but on second thought, it registered in my spirit that something was wrong. Well, it’s not that she doesn’t pray, but praying aggressively in the spirit… that was something. I made a mental note to talk to her when she was done praying. I moved to the only chair in the room, and of course, brought out my torchlight as usual because the power company in my neighbourhood has done what they know how to do best. We rarely have electricity supply in the mornings, so I wonder how they expect us to prepare for the day’s activities. Anyways, I’m sure that everyone living in this part of Lagos must have become accustomed to it. I brought out my Open Heavens devotional, read it, sang some choruses and prayed. When I was done, Tobi was no longer in the room, I’m guessing she was going to work. I don’t really know how her shifts work but she’s probably on a morning shift today. Today is a workday, so I also got ready to go to work. Then, I heard the morning bell signalling prayer time. For a few years now, our family devotion hasn’t been the same. It’s either I leave the house early or either one of my sisters is at work or school, so the constant members of my household are my parents and Jomjom. After the prayers, I and Tobi left for work.
One of the things I need to do at the office this week is to complete the training for the new staff that I recruited. Yay, me too! I can’t believe that I am in a position to interview someone else. Doc says she trusts me to make the right choice because she and her husband made the right choice in choosing me, and now, it’s my turn. We had about twenty candidates, a stark reflection of how badly people want jobs in Lagos. In that moment, I was reminded to be thankful once again for the opportunity to get my job in a stress-free manner. I felt led to choose a young man, Chibuzor. It felt weird hiring a guy as a receptionist, but it felt right to me. There was just something about him that caught my attention. I saw that he was a ND holder of Art and Design from a Nigerian Polytechnic. For him, it was a matter of an opportunity to pursue his passion for painting and designing. I reminded him that he was going to be a receptionist, not a member of the design team, but he seemed okay with the idea as long as he gets to work where he can contribute something. By the time I got to the office, I met Chibuzor already at the door, waiting for me. For the past few days, Chibuzor has been the first person to get to the office, call it the characteristics of a newbie or rookie but I think the guy is for real though time will tell eventually.
At noon, I decided to call Tobi. It felt weird but I wanted her to know that I was available if she needed me. Well, she sounded okay, and I told her to remind me of something important that I wanted to share with her when we get home. As I continued to fiddle with my phone after the call, I saw a reminder of my former flatmate’s birthday- Nike. Anikky baby! I remember how I and some friends used to fondly call her. She was just a delightful person, very open-handed girl. As two close young women, we had many things in common- we both attended the same campus fellowship, and we attended lectures together till our fourth year when we had to move to our areas of specialty. But somehow, after she got married, we drifted apart. Nike got married almost immediately after we graduated. As I saw the reminder, I contemplated between calling her or just dropping a birthday prayer on her Facebook wall. I decided on the former.
After the second ring…
“Moyo! Ha, Moyo! It’s a lie! Ha, Moyo, so you still have my number?” She screamed with excitement.
I sat there staring at the phone, shocked. I know it was her quite alright, I’m just surprised at the excitement in her voice, considering she’s the one that was always too busy to pick up my calls.
“Happy birthday, Anikky baby! God bless you and cause His face to shine on you.” I prayed for her. “In this year, your path will shine brighter according to the word of the Lord.”
“AMEN!” she shouted.
“How are you doing, Nike? It’s been a while. How are you doing? How is your family? How’s Olivia?”
“Ha, Moyo, so you can call me?”
“What do you mean?” I fired back. “Was it not you that was either not picking up my calls or asking me to call back because it was not a good time to talk? In fact, most times, you do not answer my calls, so what was I supposed to do?” I half-expected her to answer the rhetorical question. After a pause, she replied:
“Honestly, I do not remember all these things that you are saying?”
“Really? I could not be poke-nosing in a married woman’s matter…”
“Which married woman?” She flared up. “Which married woman, I ask? So, does that mean that I should not have friends again?”
“I don’t understand. I feel married couples will always want their privacy…”
She interrupted me. “Which privacy? Yes, maybe a few days after the wedding, but not a total cut-off. You guys just cut me off, and you were supposed to be my friends. I expected more support from you guys, honestly. After the wedding, none of you- you, Mary, Sharon- none of you guys, even Busola that lives here in Ibadan with me came once, just once…”
“I do not understand…” I remarked.
“You can’t understand,” she cut me off angrily. “You guys left me, abandoned me, even when I had a baby, you couldn’t come by to say hello, and you only sent a gift. Marriage can be lonely, you know. Marriage is not what you think.”
Nike was my first friend to get married, she married her secondary school sweetheart, Jide. When I met Nike in our first year of school, I wondered how someone that young could be in a relationship from secondary school, but it worked out for them. Because Jide was two years her senior, he graduated from the university earlier, got a job and they got married right as Nike graduated too. It was a beautiful love story. What I didn’t know was that in-between their almost ten-year relationship was two abortions, so when they got married, they were under a lot of pressure to have children, and no family member was aware except Jide’s elder brother who introduced them to the doctor that performed the procedure. Nike went on to tell me how, a few months into the marriage, she had a miscarriage, then another one, so Jide decided that she should not work, and she had to be on compulsory bed rest on Jide’s orders.
“…I was bored to death, and to make matters worse, I couldn’t tell anyone,” she continued. “To my mum, Jide was a caring husband who was just after my well-being. Our sex life was just routine. It became his habit to check my body temperature and ask about my ovulation period. He really wanted to have a child so bad, he was desperate…”
“Ha! I think it was the guilt of the abortion that was eating him up, and for the fact that you were Christians…the devil is just full of fear…”
“Moyo! Not only that, the torture, nightmares, fear, in short, when I couldn’t take it again, we had to go see our Pastor and his wife who counselled, encouraged and prayed for us. I thank God we are better now, our child is doing fine, and I just found out that we are expecting another baby again.”
“Wow! Congratulations!” I cheered. “The Lord will heal your home permanently. And here I was thinking that you were too busy with wife duties.”
“Which busy? I was hurt, lonely, and without a job, I couldn’t even find one anyways, and around that time, my phone got stolen, so I lost all my contacts. In fact, it was a trying time for me. If Jide was not available to drive me anywhere, I couldn’t go out. He was my driver to the market, church, weddings, name it. He was just afraid that we were going to be childless, like God was punishing us for the sins we had committed, and the devil really tormented us. Thank God for His healing.”
“Hallelujah! I’m so sorry you had to go through all that alone.”
“That’s fine, we are okay now,” she replied gently. “So, are you hearing from others- Mary, Busola…?” She asked in an attempt to change the line of discussion.
“Well, the last I heard of Mary, she is in Abuja she’s now a big madam. I see her posts on Facebook. She’s into human hair and fashion accessories, but she doesn’t post personal stuff. I tried to reach out to her some time ago on her cell phone but I got no response, so I’m guessing she no longer uses that number. Then, Sharon has moved to Benin, she’s married now with two kids.”
“You nko, Moyo, any brother?”
“I’m still searching o,” I replied giggling.
“What of this brother, hmmm…what’s his name?”
“George,” I helped her out.
“Yes, George. You guys were close then. What happened?”
“Honestly, I don’t know?”
“Wow, it is well. I’m happy you called me today. Your call was the least that I was expecting today. Thank you so much.”
“Thank you too, Anikky baby.”
She laughed out loud. “I can’t remember the last time that someone called me that. I’m no more a baby o, marriage has opened my eyes.” We both burst into loud laughter.
“Nike, I’ll call you some other time, I’m still at the office.”
“All right. Take care of yourself.”
“You too. Bye.”
Just like that, the call is over.

***

Hi guys, i have other books on okadabooks, you can check them out. Titled,
Gratitude and my latest, Late bloomer. Thank you.

Just like that, the call is over. Wonders shall never end! Who would have thought…? That was quite a revelation. Abortion? Not once but twice! That’s murder sef, with fear, joblessness, guilt, and loneliness, all in one person. Wow! What a revelation! Only God knows when she had those abortions. Was it when we were in the university or much earlier in her secondary school days? My mind began to reflect on campus days to try and recall if there was ever any time that something might have felt odd.
Therefore, let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he falls…
The Holy Spirit stopped me in my tracks. Hmm… I nodded in agreement. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for your nudging. I made up my mind right there to include her in my prayers often, especially now that she has revealed to me that she’s pregnant with her second child.
Tobi had already arrived home when I got home, I found her on her bed sobbing quietly which further confirmed my suspicion that something was wrong. I changed into something more comfortable, went to my parent’s room to greet my mum and returned to my room. I locked the door, and moved quietly to join my sister on the bed.
“Tobi, what happened? What is it?”
Nothing prepared me for the outburst of emotions that evening. She burst out into tears, crying aloud. I moved closer as I held her in a close embrace. She was sobbing profusely. She held on to me tight. I was at a loss for words, talk less of knowing what to do. I began to pray in my heart.
Jesus, help us, keep shame away from my family. Please, Lord, have your way, we cannot be put to shame… I continued to pray in my heart because at this point, I could not wrap my head around what could be going on in her mind. She wasn’t an outspoken person, so all I had was my imagination going wild. Is Tobi pregnant? Has she lost her job? Who died? Did one of her patients die? Jesus, have your way! At this point, I heard a knock on the door.
“Aunty Moyo, Aunty Tobi, are you okay?” Jomjom cried from the door. Mummy said I should ask you what is going on?”
“Jomiloju, we are fine. Tell Mummy that we are having a sister-to-sister discussion eh, don’t worry.” I answered him without leaving my sister who was still in a close embrace. After a few minutes, Tobi’s crying subsided, and she let go. I quickly brought out tissue paper from my handbag and she blew her nose and wiped her eyes with it. By now I could see her clearly. Her eyes were swollen, her lips were swollen, and she looked terrible.
“How long have you crying? What is it? What happened? Are you pregnant?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Then, what is it? Tell me, please.”
“It’s Samuel.”
“Ha, what happened to Samuel?” I shouted with hot sweat running down my spine.
“He is fine, but his family members are saying we cannot get married!”
“Ptiuuu,” I hissed. Tobi looked at me as if I had grown horns on my head.
“Eh en, is that why you want to kill yourself?”
“Coming from someone that does not have a man in her life,” she sneered.
It felt like a dagger at my heart, those words stung like a bee, hurting badly. I stood up immediately after Tobi said those words, and that was when it dawned on her how bad those words sounded. I felt hurt, and I withdrew myself emotionally. I can’t believe that Tobi would say those words to me. I was pained. As I stood up from the bed, Tobi held my hands and got on her knees right on the bed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way…”
“That’s fine, at least you have mocked me to my face.”
“Lailai, I will never mock you. God forbid that I mock my flesh and blood, I will never do that to do. That came out wrong. I am sorry.” She held my hands till I sat down with her on the bed. “Moyo, God sees my heart. I will never mock you. I can’t even believe that it came out of my mouth, I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” I tried to convince myself.
“I’m sorry, Sister Moyo, I truly am.” She went on to hug me.
Hugging each other for the second time in thirty minutes! This must mean we are becoming sisters. We have never been close. We are sibs with different lifestyles and career paths. Or let’s just say we grew apart.
“Tobi, I’m okay. I’m not angry. So, what happened to Samuel?” I asked, attempting to change the subject.
“Hmmm, his family members are saying he cannot marry me.”
“Why? Who? How? When? Are they just seeing you around him?” I asked furiously.
“It’s big Daddy. Do you know that his uncle that everyone calls “Big Daddy”? He said Samuel cannot marry a nurse because nurses are promiscuous and irresponsible, and they can’t keep a home.”
To say I was shocked was an understatement. How can an elderly educated man like big Daddy say those kind of words? I don’t know if I should laugh at the flimsiness of the excuse or cry at his level of intelligence.
“Wait, Tobi. I do not understand. Please make me understand. What exactly are you saying? Are you saying that Samuel doesn’t want to marry you because big Daddy said he can’t marry a nurse, abi Samuel is using big Daddy to quit the relationship? Because I am not understanding this your story o. So, Samuel can’t decide by himself, or what is his problem? Okay, what of his mum?”
“Mo, you don’t understand. You know after Samuel’s father died, it was this big Daddy that was responsible for Samuel and his brothers. He stepped up, took care of them, gave their mummy money for her business to stand on her feet, and he even…”
“And so? He took care of them and sent all of them to school, but did he give them life? Look, Tobi, I’m not saying the man did not try for them, but Samuel and his mother are giving this man too much power! So, what is Samuel’s mum saying?”
“Honestly she’s on our side but it’s like no one has ever challenged this uncle before, so Mummy doesn’t want to be the one that will go up against him.”
“Ok, that’s understandable, but Samuel is acting like a small boy. Or is there any other reason that they are not saying that is making them use your career as an excuse? What is Samuel’s position on the matter?”
“He’s also confused. We both went to meet one of his aunties who is big Daddy’s younger sister, you know, to table our situation before her, but she couldn’t help us. We even went to see big Daddy’s wife. None of them could help us. I’m so confused. At this point, it’s looking like I will have to start over again…”
“Tobi, are you not a Christian? Report him to God. Reporting him to his best friend, even his Pastor, might not yield much result. Go to God on your knees. I don’t have a man in my life, but I know that you have to tackle this issue spiritually.”
“Mo, I’ve been praying. We have been on this matter for two weeks now,” Tobi replied tiredly. “I feel so stressed out.”
“I didn’t even know that you guys are planning to get married soon.”
“We were thinking of doing our introduction, so we decided to tell big Daddy first, then our parents… before big Daddy started this drama. Moyo, you need to see me that day! It was like a joke. I couldn’t believe my eyes and ears.”
“You mean he said all those words right in front of you?”
“Eh en now,” she answered, nodding her head in agreement.
“Wow! I do not want to imagine how you must have felt. But Tobi, as I said, I don’t have a man in my life yet…”
“What is it now? I have apologized and you are repeating ‘I don’t have a man in my life yet.’ I said I’m sorry na.”
“Tobi, I know what I’m saying o. What if this marriage is not meant to be? I’m sorry I’m sounding this way, but we need to look at it carefully. What if this big Daddy drama is just God’s way of preventing the union? What if? Did you pray about this relationship? Are you sure he is the one for you? I don’t want you to answer me. I need you to answer yourself. From what I heard today from a married friend, marriage is a different ball game. Na you and your bobo go dey play the game o.”
“Moyo, honestly, it dropped on my mind, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.”
“Tobi, you need to come to terms with the fact that marriage is a serious business and it might be God’s mercy playing out in this form. Think about it well. Number one, this same big Daddy knows you well for almost three years abi? Is it now that he is realizing that you are a nurse? This does not look ordinary to me.”
“Hmmm, I agree. So what do I do now?”
“Well, I can join you in prayers but I think you should take time off. Take some days off, go somewhere and pray. This is the time to use all those your accumulated leave days. You can pray the prayers anyhow God leads you. Number one, if this man is a pharaoh that does want you guys to move on, let God deal with him and expose him. Number two, if the wedding is not meant to be, let the whole thing scatter without repair. Number three, if this is God’s plan, ask for something significant- a sign or something, but something obvious that everyone will see. Tobi, that is all I have for you. The ball is now in your court. And, yes, please carry Samuel along, tell him of your plans so it doesn’t look as if you simply disappeared. He should also go and pray. I strongly believe that you should pray personally, just you and God, if you get what I mean, and I pray that God will shed more light on your matter.”
“Thank you, Moyo. I feel better. Do you think I should tell Mum and Dad?”
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you should give them the full version, just a coded version of it. Tell them that they should continue to pray for you guys, and that the Lord should make a way for you and Samuel. Or do you want to add to Mummy’s worry?”
“Thank you, Mo. God bless you for me.”
“Amen. And you are most welcome.”
Phew! What an eventful day, and to think that I had a nightmare yesterday night. The devil is a liar. I am a child of light, I carry light. Anywhere I go, confusion, depression, and sadness must go. Father, this relationship business, hmmm, I’m not understanding it again o. I want a smooth relationship, not baggage or contention, and no issues, that’s what I want. I can’t wait this long and finally get what I want, only to be fighting with a contender, no way! I just want a smooth ride, that’s my heart’s desire, oh Lord! Help your girl, Saviour!
As I lay on my bed trying to catch some sleep, I made up my mind to pray about my marital life. I will dedicate a few days in the week asking for nothing but marital fulfilment. It is at moments like this that I miss Aunty Eli, my prayer partner, who was always going to prayer meetings, someone was always inviting her for a program, and truly, God did it.
In other news, it’s just a few days to the beginning of my Master’s program!

Na wa o, no likes or comments. isokay

mydayjoy:
Na wa o, no likes or comments. isokay

So interesting,sister moyo chat me on my WhatsApp nos 08148316840 ,I like ur write up

Your write up is wonderful, you have a fantastic narrative ability, keep it up.
I am waiting for the rest of the story. Cheers ���

Thank you so much for the encouragement. God bless you

Continuation

*******
An idle mind, they say, is the devil’s workshop. I had a glimpse of what it truly meant. Ife had opened my eyes to Instagram, and I never knew it was this interesting. I started getting some requests, and I had to follow them back. Well, it’s my last weekend of freedom before graduate school starts, so I can as well just enjoy Instagram. I engaged in a little sleuthing. I looked for my university crush, George. I saw that he seems to have moved abroad, but I couldn’t see a pinned location. Anyways, in the eyes of Nigerians, abroad is abroad, even if it’s somewhere in South Africa. We all want to travel abroad, and just by the pictures, we shall know them. Do I blame them? With the way things are going in this nation, if I see a good opportunity, I will also travel.
I began to follow a lot of people- Anikky baby, my cousins, even the ones that we don’t talk often. At least, they can’t say they don’t know me. I also sent requests to some of my old secondary school and university friends. This Instagram will finish my data o. I’m really enjoying it. But I am puzzled by how we don’t display our full stories online, for example, my boss at work. I saw pictures from her single days and some of her honeymoon pictures. Honestly speaking, it’s good to have money. My boss happens to be one of the wealthy people that I know personally. As I continued to scroll through her page, I mentally compared her online image with what I see almost every day at work- the straightforward, diligent, hardworking young woman. But her page doesn’t show all that. All I see is the glam life, especially with her handsome husband. Her husband’s page is private, so I couldn’t access it. I stumbled on some gossip pages, and I saw trending news. This is nice, especially for those of us that are not up-to-date on the entertainment industry.
Hmmm, this Instagram is another life entirely. Why wasn’t I active on it since? I remembered the words of Ife:” Sister mi, you need to upgrade.” Thank you, Ife, I have upgraded. Ife’s page is also interesting, I saw some clips of her stage performances, some of her friends displaying her art as a makeup artist, and lots of her posts, numbering more than two hundred. I saw pictures of her, Jomjom and Tobi when they went to the beach two years ago. I can’t even remember where I was when Samuel invited my siblings to his office beach party. I think I need to change. No social life, never went to the cinemas, never gone for a concert, nothing. The last time I went to the beach was with some church friends, like seven years ago. This my life is boring sha.
Then, I suddenly remember my mum, another major prayer point for every member of my family. During my NYSC, I got a call from my dad that my mother was sick but there was no reason to panic, I just needed to pray along with the whole family for a speedy recovery. I spoke to her often and all seemed fine. What I didn’t know was that she was diagnosed with diabetes and placed on a strict diet, and all thanks to Tobi, the only medical personnel in the family who was able to help manage her condition. And to think someone is saying they don’t want a medical person in their family. Anyway, I didn’t know how serious my mum’s sickness was until a few months later when I got home and I got to hear the entire story. Then, a few months after that, she had an accident on her way from her shop where she sells provisions and foodstuff in wholesale. Long story short, Mummy can’t walk on her own anymore because of the wounds on her leg which have refused to heal completely. Tobi has been helping medically and every other person helps physically and financially. For someone who has always been on her toes doing everything by herself, it is difficult seeing her get assisted to do basic things, but what can I say? I am still thankful that I have both parents. The affliction shook the whole family. My dad had to sell his only car, Mum’s leg was almost amputated, and Ife would have dropped out of school. One of the saving grace we had was the fact that I got a job almost immediately after my NYSC, or it would have been worse. I know that healing is a process and I believe that what the Lord has started, He will surely finish.

hi all,

i have another story in the literature section titled late bloomer, free feel to check it out.

https://www.nairaland.com/7530980/late-bloomer-oyindamola-oyebade#120164981

CHAPTER SEVEN:

NEW BEGINNINGS

I woke up excited. I start my graduate studies at the University of Lagos today. I was just singing some praises and the Holy Spirit began to converse with me.
“Are you happy?”
“Yep, so happy. I’m nervous but happy, and I am grateful that I get to start this program.”
“How prepared are you?”
“Hmmm, I have bought all I need, I just need to finish my registration.”
“Do you know that you are doing what has not been done in your family?”
“Well, my parents are educated…”
“Do they have a Master’s degree?”
“No!”
“So, how prepared are you?”
“Well, I’m trying to be calm and…”
“Do you know that you are treading on a new path?”
“Hmmm, how so?”
“No one has gotten to this level before!”
“Hmmm, that’s true. None in my family, not even within my extended family, at least, none that I know of.”
“So, how prepared are you?”
“Okay, Lord. I’ll fast and pray today. Because I am a child of God, I take possession of my inheritance in Christ. Unilag belongs to the Lord, so I take what’s mine in the land.” I decided in my spirit at that moment to fast and commit the program into God’s hands.
Finding my way around the campus was a bit difficult. I kept wishing that I could just meet a familiar face, who knows? The world, they say, is a small place. I located my department and one of the lecture rooms which was neither big nor small. I saw some students there but I realized that they were already chatting and they seemed like friends. Apparently, these guys were friends from their undergraduate days. One of the lecturers told us to introduce ourselves, and by the time we were done, it dawned on me how lonely I was. One, there were just five girls in my class. Two, more than half of the students had previously graduated from this same university, either from the department of Urban and Regional Planning or Architecture. They were all friends. Three, when I mentioned my first degree, they could not hide the surprise on their faces. You could almost see their wheels spinning. What is someone from Horticulture doing in the department of Architecture? Well, I care less. Na dem sabi.
Later in the day, I went to the admin office to submit a document. I knocked on the door, waited a few minutes, and when I didn’t hear a response besides voices filtering out from inside the office, I decided to enter.
“Good afternoon, ma.” I greeted the first woman I saw whose table was closest to the door but she ignored me.
“That’s how I went to the next woman, she was really really happy that I came to her store.” She continued talking with the other occupant of the office. I was caught between coughing to draw her attention or waiting till she finished her gist. I decided on the latter. And she went on for another seven minutes till another man walked in and sat behind the only empty chair left in the office.
“Yes, what do you want?” He looked at me.
“Good afternoon, sir. I want to submit my…”
“Don’t mind these students. Very rude!” I was interrupted by the woman I’m guessing is supposed to collect the form from me. “They think that they can just barge into the office and be commanding.”
I slowed turned to look at her properly. Wonder of all wonders! Wonders shall never end. So you mean to tell me that I was rude for knocking on the door abi rude for greeting you or for waiting for you to finish your gist? Sometimes I wonder why these admin officers are mean and disrespectful to students, as if we are not humans.
The man turned to her. “J.P., please collect the form and let her go.”
“I’m even done for the day,” she said, snubbing her office partner. She then turned to me and said, “Come back tomorrow!”
My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. I stylishly looked at the wall clock. It is a few minutes past three and this woman is telling me to come back tomorrow just because I want to drop a form. Na wa o. If we investigate now, she might be a deaconess in church. I knew that it didn’t make sense for me to come back the next day just to submit a form. I quickly went to my knees. This woman is not spoiling my day.
“Please, ma. I’m a graduate student and I don’t have reasons to come to school every day.”
“Eh en, so what?”
“I meant to say that I might not come to school tomorrow. Please, ma.”
She looked at me naughtily. “Just drop it on the table.”
I quickly reached for the form in the folder that I was holding, dropped it on the table, stood up, thanked everyone in the office, and left.
“What just happened?” I asked no one in particular as I left the office. Kneeling just to submit a form? Ordinary paper! Na wa o, and that is someone’s mother. And on Mother’s day, the children will be posting her picture on social media and saying sweet things about her, “My mother is the best, very caring.” Rubbish! I hissed. How did we get here sef? And we will be saying that it’s the Nigerian government. Just to do your job, you had to make it hard. It is well. Just for you to receive a piece of paper, I spent more than twenty minutes. I sighed.
By the time I got home, I was extremely tired. I don’t even understand if it is the fast or my encounter with the admin officer. That woman just messed up my mood. I met Mum and Jomjom in the living room watching TV. I greeted them, and excused myself to get comfortable and say my prayers. As I knelt beside my bed, I couldn’t help but be grateful. This was my first day of school and it was good, apart from the sore encounter that I had with the admin officer. Dear Lord, thank you for making me start this graduate school, thank you because I know that you are faithful to see me through this program. Please, Lord, help me to finish well. Amen.
“Aunty Moyo,” I heard my brother call at the door. “Mummy is calling you.”
“Ok, I’m coming.” I went to meet my mum in the living room sitting comfortably on the sofa with the remote control in her hand. So typical of Mummy to be in control of the TV.
“Jomiloju, please excuse us, I want to talk to your sister.”
“Ok, Mummy.” Jomjom left the living room. She muted the TV and faced me properly. Now, that’s weird. What’s going on here? Different thoughts were swimming through my mind.
“How was school?” She started.
“Well, school was good. I’m yet to finish my registration but everything is okay.” I contemplated telling her about that wicked admin officer but I changed my mind. “I thank God. It’s okay.” I paused to look at her face. I’m not sure I know where this discussion is going, and I am starting to feel nervous.
“So is Unilag the way your sister is always talking about it?”
“Well, I don’t know yet,” I responded. “In fact, we had only one lecturer come in and talk to us, and I used the extra time to tidy up some stuff.”
“So, did you see any familiar face in school?”
“No!”
“Did you like your lecturer?”
At this point, I’m already rolling my eyes inwardly because I cannot fathom where this discussion is going.
“Yes. He is okay.”
“Oluwa seun! Thank God!”
“So, Mummy, what is going on? Kilo sele? Is anything the matter?”
“Well, nothing o.” She held my hand. “I’m just trying to know about your day na ni.”
From where to where? I rolled my eyes mentally. My family is not a one-on-one talking family, so my mum trying to have a conversation in this manner is strange. I’m sure she was beginning to sense how weird it is because the way she’s shifting on her seat is somehow.
“Well, I’m grateful that you are starting this program and I pray that you will finish well. I and your dad are very happy with this decision and I pray that where we can’t get to, you and your siblings will get there in Jesus’ name. As all of you are sources of joy in the family, you will never go bad, all your heart desires will be met, shame will be far from you and your siblings, you will marry right, I will live long to see your children, I will not be replaced in Jesus…”
As she continued in prayers, I responded Amen intermittently. At least, I now understand why we are having this conversation. When she was done, we both sat comfortably in each other’s silence, still holding hands. Now this feels unreal- my mum holding my hands and just gently stroking them with her hands. I knew there was more, she was just looking for how to start.
“Moyo, how are you?” she started.
“I’m okay, Mummy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, why do you ask, ma?”
“How far? Anybody yet?”
“What do you mean?”
“Moyo, don’t pretend as if you don’t understand what I’m saying now. Oro oko ni mo n ba e so.”
I smiled shyly. So, my mum can call me and ask concerning my marital “situationship”. To be honest, I have mixed feelings. Sad on one hand because I don’t have any good news yet, but glad on the other hand, because my parents are concerned. Who was I even kidding sef? I know that my mum is worried and it’s probably Daddy that is not allowing her to choke my sisters and I to death.
“Mummy, I don’t have anyone yet but don’t worry, when I have someone, I will bring him home.” I chuckled.
“Moyosore, this is not a laughing matter now.”
“I know, Mummy, I know,” I said, squeezing her hands, attempting to reassure her.
“So, what is happening, Moyo? At least, we can know where to direct the prayers, abi you don’t think we need prayers?”
“Mummy, we all need prayers, but I don’t want us to worry according to the book of Matthew chapter 6 from verse 25. I am not anxious because I’m trusting God to handle this but I don’t want you to think that I’m not concerned at all. I am, but I’m learning to trust Him. Do you remember Daddy G.O.’s prophecy for the year?”
I could see Mummy’s eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. “Which one is Daddy G.O.’s prophecy in this matter?”
“Mummy, it’s not just about the prophecy but God’s word.”
“So, what did he say because I can’t remember?”
“He said, ‘Say ye to the righteous, it is well.’ So, for me, I just have to live a righteous life and all will be well.”
“O da, I understand. So, we should be praying that the word of God should come to pass abi? That’s good. The word of God will come to pass in your life and in the lives of your sisters. God will answer us, He will settle all of you.”
“Amen. Mummy, I also want to remind you of a story in the Bible about a woman who lost her only son and when the servant asked her what the problem was, she kept saying, ‘All is well’ until it came to pass. So, when you are saying all is well, say it intentionally until everything is well with us, even your health and Daddy’s business. All we need to do is hold on. Though it tarries, we wait. I don’t want us to worry. People will talk, and they are only doing their job, but we don’t need to be distracted so that people don’t start giving us unsolicited advice. Our own is to keep holding on.”
“I kuku understand, oko mi. It’s not like me and your dad want to be disturbing you and your sisters, but we want you to know that we are here for all of you. If you have any problem, you can talk to us. Se o ti ye e?”
“I understand, ma. Thank you for having this talk with me.”
“O da, omo mi. You have changed o, you are now sounding like Pastor Mrs., quoting the Bible up and down. Abi the bro is a Pastor ni?”
“Mummy, there is no bro yet and the word of God is for everyone.”
“Okay o, omo Baba G.O.”
“Awa niyen o.”
“So, what are we eating tonight?”
“What of amala or semo? I’m thinking we should eat solid so that we can finish the okra soup before it starts losing taste.”
“Anything you make is fine.”
“Ok then.”
As I stood up to leave, I moved closer to hug her. I don’t think I have hugged my mum in years. We are close but it’s not like we hug each other like those families we see in the movies. I really felt we had an exceptional connection tonight.
“Mummy, do you need help getting to the room?”
“No, I’m ok. Help me call Jomiloju, our film is about to start.”
“Ok, ma. Jomiloju! Your mummy is calling you,” I called my brother and left for my room.
Phew! That discussion went well. Seeing my mummy calling me Pastor Mrs, I could not help but laugh within myself. Pastor Mrs ko, Pastor Mrs ni.
“So, are Pastors not humans?”
“Ha! God, they are humans, but I don’t see myself with a Pastor. The pressure, the scrutiny, I don’t like wahala at all.”
“So, if I give you a Pastor, you won’t take my choice for you?”
“Ha, I will take it but if you are asking me, Abba, I will prefer not to be married to one.”
“I am the potter, and you are the clay.”
What was that? I felt I was talking to myself, and I was getting responses inside of me. I knew that conversation was between me and the Holy Spirit. Abba Father, help me to surrender to your will. Help me to be a help meet for my husband, help my husband to surrender to you, too. Help my family to model Christ on earth. Amen.

#######

When Tobi returned from work in the evening, I gave her the gist about the conservation between Mummy and I. She almost laughed her head off, especially when I told her how we were stroking each other’s hands. She also thought the conversation was unusual. I went on to tell her about the admin officer that I had an encounter with earlier in the day. I felt tempted to ask her about the situation with big Daddy but decided against it because I want to believe that if there was a change, she would notify me.
At some point in the night, I just couldn’t sleep. From remembering the conversation with my mum during the day to the nudging I kept having about my boss to the strange feeling about the next school day, my mind couldn’t seem to settle. I tried shaking off this mixed feeling, then I got up from my bed and looked in the direction of my sister who was sleeping soundly. I remembered her situation, and felt really sorry for her. Off to the kitchen, I went to get a glass of water.
It is almost 1 am, thankfully there is power supply, so I decided to have my morning devotion. I went back to the room, picked up my devotional, Bible and jotter, and headed back to the living room so I won’t disturb Tobi. The memory verse for the day stood out for me: “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me” Isaiah 49:16. As I continued to study, I knew that this word was for me, somehow, I sensed satisfaction within my spirit. When I was done, my boss’ face came to mind, so I quickly said a word of prayer for her and went back to bed.
The following day, Tobi told me that she was going for the prayer retreat as a follow-up on our discussion, and she had decided to go to the Redemption Camp as suggested by one of her bosses. Her boss had told her that the camp was a very good place for personal retreats, and moreover, it was relatively near. I totally agreed with her. So, she leaves next Sunday after church. I encouraged her to inform our parents but not divulge too much information. What a week!
Weeks roll into weeks and nothing interesting is happening, just school, work, church and repeat. Examinations start soon. Father, please take control.

CHAPTER EIGHT:

CLARITY

December is almost here! When I refer to December, I am indirectly referring to my birthday. I’ll be twenty-nine in a few weeks. Father, we had an agreement, what is happening? I’ve been specific in my request, asking intentionally and it seems nothing is happening. I’m still trying to hold myself but I don’t know for how long I am going to hold on and not break.
Father, I am weak, please hold me.
In another news, Ife is now enrolled for a three-month masterclass at a famous fashion school here on the mainland. Apparently, she had started fashion training during her service year in Ondo state. Truth be told, I know she will be excellent at it because she has always been on top when it comes to beauty and fashion in our house, and on a few occasions, I have seen her sketches which are lovely. Jomjom is getting ready for WASSCE next year and has been preparing seriously. Mum and Dad are doing fine.
Mummy is now a few million richer; she and her siblings decided to sell their late father’s only house in Lagos. The house had appreciated over the years, and it just made sense for them to sell it and share the proceeds among the eight children. Why continue to keep the house when some of them are in dire need of money? Hence, they sold it. With this new money, my parents are sort of ‘finishing’ our house. Before now, one could describe our house as uncompleted, with an un-plastered wall and no gate. So, for this touch-up, I am grateful. It feels like growth to me. With this development, myself and Tobi were able to contribute something to the living room, nothing major, just some paint, a new rug, and some wall décor. Overall, I feel blessed because since we moved in here more than twenty years ago, our house had just been the same, and with Mummy unable to work for years now and putting three children through college almost simultaneously, it’s been hard for them to save for extra projects. I am indeed grateful for the journey.
Speaking of Tobi, she has returned from her prayer retreat. On getting home from church, I met her on the bed in a relaxed state.
“Moyo, it has happened o,” she said to me as I sat on the bed to unbuckle my two-inch block heel.
“What happened?”
“God is a man of war.”
“What happened?” I asked impatiently.
“You know I left on Sunday.”
“Eh en!”
“Mama Matron already gave me names of hotels and chalets that are affordable for me because they use the camp often for retreat in her church.”
“Eh en,” I said eagerly, waiting for her to drop the other shoe.
“On Monday, I decided to go on a prayer walk. As I was walking, I came across people going into one of the church buildings, so I joined them in the service. I later learnt that the program was called “Revival Tent.” I really enjoyed the program, and when I got back to my room, I made up my mind to read a full book of the Bible before leaving on Sunday. On Tuesday, I chose the book of James. Honestly, I don’t know why I chose it, maybe because I wanted a book that has few chapters. I would read the Bible during the day, and then go on a prayer walk in the evening before breaking my fast. By Wednesday, I was on James chapter 3. You need to read it from verses 13 to 18.
“Now?” I asked.
“Yes, so you can understand.” I brought out my phone. “Use the NLT translation.”
“Okay.”
I brought out my phone to read it.
“If you are wise and understand God’s ways, prove it by living an honorable life, doing good works with the humility that comes from wisdom. But if you are bitterly jealous and there is selfish ambition in your heart, don’t cover up the truth with boasting and lying. For jealousy and selfishness are not God’s kind of wisdom. Such things are earthly, unspiritual, and demonic. For wherever there is jealousy and selfish ambition, there you will find disorder and evil of every kind. But the wisdom from above is first of all pure. It is also peace-loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and the fruit of good deeds. It shows no favouritism and is always sincere. And those who are peacemakers will plant seeds of peace and reap a harvest of righteousness.”
“So? I don’t understand.”
“Me too. When I read it, I didn’t understand. But I went for my prayer walk, returned, and slept off. Moyo! Moyo!! Moyo!!! How many times did I call you?”
“Abeg, say what you want to say joor,” I responded impatiently again.
“My God can fight any battle,” she said, looking upwards. "I had a dream that same night, I saw big Daddy and Tunji doing something, but they were hiding what they were doing.”
“Who is Tunji?” I asked.
“Samuel’s cousin, Big Daddy’s last born, the one that went to private university.”
“Yea, I remember him. He works at the bank.”
“Yes o, sister mi, you get it. I still didn’t understand what the dream meant, and you know I switched off my phone almost all through my stay there to avoid distractions.”
“Eh en.”
“The next day, I switched on my phone to say hello to Samuel. I was shocked to hear that Tunji had been sacked from work and now admitted to a rehabilitation centre.”
I was confused. “So, what’s the correlation between bank and hospital?” I asked.
“Thank you, my sister. Same question I asked Samuel. According to him, Tunji and some colleagues were involved in some fraudulent activities, so he was suspended from the bank for investigation purposes. This issue had been on for months but no one knew. You know Tunji doesn’t stay with his parents. After the whole saga, he was sacked, yet no one knew. By the time they knew what was happening, he started using…”
“Using what? I don’t understand.”
“Samuel too doesn’t know the substance, maybe weed. Long story short, it was his friends that called big Daddy that Tunji was behaving funny and sounding crazy, that’s how they rushed him to a psychiatric hospital. Yet, it all didn’t make sense to me still. When the call was over, I started praying for Tunji, but as I prayed, I kept remembering the passage that I read earlier. Then, I read it again, it all began to come together, especially verses 15 and 16 of that chapter. As I meditated on the passage, I began to see the heart of Big Daddy. It felt like the Bible passage was mirroring his heart. You know when the Bible says that the heart of men is desperately wicked, I had an understanding. This man’s heart is not clean towards his nephew. Anyways, I pray that Tunji will receive mercy and be healed.”
“Hmmm, na wa o. This feels like a Hollywood movie.”
“I’m telling you, Moyo. Can you believe the other family members are just learning of Tunji’s illness? Can you imagine that? Whereas, this same man likes to be abreast of the progress of his nephews and nieces.”
“More like monitoring to me.”
“Something like that. But the man is a good man, I don’t know what went wrong. I didn’t tell Samuel the dream sha, I just know that my God is in action, and He will finish what He has started.”
“Which good man? You don’t know that the heart is very delicate, if you don’t constantly feed it with good things, bad thoughts will plant themselves, even without one’s permission.”
“Yea.”
“It’s like Big Daddy doesn’t want Samuel to move on with his life, so he was just looking for a way to scatter the relationship and keep you guys waiting because he knows you need his approval.”
“That’s what I’m perceiving in my spirit, too.”
“Father, please deliver us from enemies within and without.”
“Amen,” my sister and I chorused.
“So, what are you going to do now?” I asked.
“I believe that God is in action, I trust Him to make a way for us, and I believe that He has started already.”
“I’m happy for you, Tobi. At least, you now have clarity.”
“Yes o, that program I attended on Monday really fired me up. I learnt they will be having a program in December for young people, Young Minsters’ Retreat. I plan to attend for the three days if it’s possible, otherwise, I will try and attend a session, at least.”
“Who is the convener?”
“Pastor Daniel Olawande. They call him P Daniel. You can look him up on YouTube and Instagram.”
Now that the secret is out, everyone is trying to pitch in and help, including Samuel and Tobi, and being in the medical field, Tobi has been able to help significantly, especially with dealing with Tunji’s withdrawal symptoms.

Note to my readers,
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Thank you.

****

#######
“Is this what you are wearing to the naming?” Mummy attacked me as I stepped into the living room.
“I’m confused. Which naming?”
“I told you. Mummy Zonal came here three days ago and told me that our new Provincial Pastor just had a new baby.”
“I heard, so what?”
“Today is the naming ceremony.”
“What do you want me to do about it, ma?”
“Moyo, I’ve told you to be attending events like this. They are good places to sow seeds, to pray forth your testimony.”
“Mummy, today is going to be a very busy day for me. I need to go to school first, and then finish the work that Doc gave me. I will be too tired.”
“I understand, but try and go. God will strengthen you. Just attend, Moyo, you hear me, it is for your own good. Rejoice with those that are rejoicing. You know me, if not for my leg, I will be there.”
“I don’t understand you sometimes,” I answered angrily, “going to a social function that we don’t know the parents…”
“We know them,” she said, cutting me short, “because they are our new Provincial Pastor, so by extension, he’s our Pastor.”
“I’ll try, if I’m able,” I said, not even trying to sound convincing.
“Moyo, I know you, I don’t want to hear any excuse, in fact, you must go. Ha ha! Attend, say a word of prayer to connect with the grace in the air, or is that too difficult for you?”
“Ok ma, I have heard you.”
“That’s good. Please change this cloth that you’re wearing.”
“Mummy, what is it again? Is the cloth not okay again?”
“The jeans is okay but the top is not okay, you can change it. Your children too will listen to you, oya oya.”
See cheap emotional blackmail! I went back to my room to change my top reluctantly. Just to get her off my back, I settled for her all-time favourite- Ankara. If you want to win my mum’s heart, just wear any style in Ankara, and you have scored. I settled for an Ankara peplum top. That way, I can avoid another round of lectures.
#######
As I walked into the church auditorium, I quickly scanned the room to see if I will find a familiar face. Almost immediately, I saw Oyinkan, a fellow usher, our eyes locked and I went to join her where she was standing at the left back corner of the church.
“How far, Oyin?” I greeted.
“I dey o.”
“Wow, I’m so surprised at the crowd.”
Shhh! She tried to caution me to be quiet. It was prayer time.
Instantly, I looked up to hear what the preacher was saying.
“…in Jesus’ Name we have prayed.”
“Amen.” Everyone chorused.
“Let’s share the grace in fellowship…”
Then almost immediately, the minister continued:
“Please everyone, let’s move to the church hall for reception and don’t worry, there’s a lot to eat and drink. Thank you all for coming.” At once, I could hear the choir sing congratulatory songs in low tones as people began to move out of the hall.
“How far, Oyinkan? Reception ke?”
“Yea, they already announced earlier that reception was at the church hall.”
“Yeah, I get that part, but the crowd is too much, just for a naming ceremony.”
“Yea,” she agreed, pulling me to the nearest vacant seat. “It’s not just any naming, I’ve known Pastor Ayanbadejo and his wife for years now, although from afar. They have been trusting God for almost twenty years now before God gave them this bundle of joy.”
“Eh en, I didn’t know that. You know they just got transferred to our province and they have not visited us. In fact, it was Mummy that told me of the naming ceremony today, but this crowd is too much.”
“Yea, they have pastored so many churches, so I’m guessing that the news spread among their previous church members when they heard that God has answered them. I’m so happy for them and besides, today is Friday, which explains the crowd.”
“Wow! God is good. Do you know the name of the baby? At least that’s what I came for!”
“Oluwatise Samuel”
“Indeed, Oluwatise- God has done it.”
After a few minutes, I stood up to leave.
“So, we see on Sunday, right?”
“Sunday? Aren’t you going to the hall?”
“No, I’m exhausted. As I said, my mummy just told me of the naming today, and the way she was really on my neck that I must come for the naming, you will think that someone is going to distribute money, so I can’t wait. I’m going home.”
Oyinkan chuckled. “I get that you might be tired but we should enter the hall, let’s just see what is going on and truth be told, I don’t mind eating because I’m so hungry.”
“Okay, that’s fine, max 30 minutes.”
We both joined the few people left leaving the church building, we walked into the very large compound that houses the church building, a few office buildings, a hall, a bookstore and a fairly sized car park.
“I never knew that the province had a hall until recently,” I said, as we walked together.
“Really? I knew almost immediately after they completed the building. This was my first choice for my wedding reception but the date has been booked.”
“Nice. So, how far with your wedding preparations?”
“It’s going on fine, thank God, God has been faithful.”
“Are you using an event planner?”
“Event planner ke? How much do I have that I will be calling an event planner? Those people can be very expensive, abeg. I’m cutting my coat according to my size.”
“Yea, they can be, but you need to do your research and get affordable ones. I don’t need to tell you the benefit of having someone else having all the headaches you are supposed to have on your big day!”
“I know but we don’t have the money and I know that your oga is a big woman. Abi you can help me plan the event?”
“Me? No, I haven’t done it singlehandedly before.”
“So what? You can use me to practice, I don’t mind all the help I can get!”
“Well, can I think about it? I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Thanks.”

Soon, we reached the hall, and it was almost filled to the brim. Stepping into the hall with Oyinkan from the rear entrance, I could see a beautiful garland decorated with small bulbs with the inscription, “Welcome, Samuel!” on the wreath hanging in the corner. As someone who has an idea of decorating, I knew that it was a professional that did the beautification of the hall.
“Wow!” Oyinkan interrupted my thoughts. “This is lovely.”
“As in, it’s really really lovely, hmmm…money speaking.”
“Although they did announce that some friends and family of the new parents were blessing them with the reception, but I didn’t expect it to be this beautiful.”
“Let’s get seats.” I tapped Oyinkan. “See Mummy Duke at the front over there,” pointing my index finger in her direction. We quickly walked through the crowd to join her at her table where we sat and continued our visual survey of the hall. The hall was well lit and cool from the effect of the air conditioners stationed at strategic points all around the hall.
“Good evening, Mummy Duke?” Oyinkan greeted.
“Iyawo, how are you?” The middle-aged woman responded.
“Good evening, ma,” I greeted her too.
“How are you, Moyo?”
“I’m okay, ma. What of Daddy?” Mummy Duke is the head of the Ushering and Protocol department of my church, so it’s not odd seeing her here at the provincial headquarters.
“He’s fine, he should meet us here. He’s stuck in traffic. I already sent him a text but I’m about to leave.,I’ll just tell him to meet me at home.”
“Mummy Duke, when did you get here?” Oyinkan asked.
“A few minutes ago. As I was about to enter the church, I met some people already coming out and they told me that the naming was over, so I came here directly.”
“This hall is beautiful o,” Oyinkan said quietly to me. “So, how much will this decoration cost?”
“I don’t know, honestly. It depends on who did it but I’m sure it would cost around 350k, give or take.”
“Ha, 350k for decoration only!”
“Yea, that’s why I said it depends on who did it. Look at the table, see these flowers, they are expensive.”
“Hmmm, it is well. Moyo, I don’t have 350k for decoration o, even the hall we got is about 350k. It’s a small hall anyway but you get the gist, right?”
“Yea, I do. Weddings can be very expensive so…”
“Hi, ladies!” A voice interrupted us.
“We turned and saw two of our church members, Sister Joy from my unit and Bro. Innocent from the choir. They pulled the vacant seats at our table and joined us. We all exchanged pleasantries and continued in small talks. By this time, I was getting bored, so I brought out my phone and began to flip through my Facebook page. I saw that I had two of my friends celebrating their birthday, both from my secondary school days, dropped some birthday wishes on their wall and continued to scroll through my page, reading some comments on some major posts.
The program should have started by now, time is going. If they don’t start on time, when are we going to finish? Anyway, I’m leaving once it is 7 pm.
“Moyo, what do you think?” Oyinkan asked me, and I looked up to see four pairs of eyes staring at me. They had been engaged in discussion around me while I was busy with my phone, and I had been listening without commenting. I had read the story in question a few days ago on Facebook, and I couldn’t wrap my head around how a Pastor would be found on the street soliciting for sex from a prostitute, and to make matters worse, everything was caught on camera.
“Honestly, I don’t know what to say but I know that the Bible says that anyone that thinks he stands should take heed lest he falls, so let’s all be guided.”

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“Honestly, I don’t know what to say but I know that the Bible says that anyone that thinks he stands should take heed lest he falls, so let’s all be guided.”
It was as if I dropped a bomb, I could see everyone uncomfortably adjusting themselves on their seats. It was as if the MC took that as a cue to start the program, as he invited a Pastor to start the ceremony with prayers. And in a matter of minutes, there was a flock of servers bringing all sorts of appetizers to the tables, especially the famous Nigerian “small chops” which happens to be one of the highlights of any gathering for me. I just love them. By this time, the new parents were invited to share their testimony. Just sitting there, listening to their journey of faith encouraged me, especially hearing from the new mum, having waited for over nineteen years before getting pregnant. She had tears in her eyes as she continued to share her testimony, giving room for her husband to help wipe her tears intermittently. Even me, you would think that I was cutting onions. I got emotional as she talked about how she went through several IVFs, but they all failed, how she toured the world and saw more than 15 different specialists,and how to their amazement, God did it for them after five years of doing nothing- no drugs, no doctor’s appointment, no ovulation calculation, nothing. Her Samuel finally came when they least expected it. As she gave her testimony, I remembered my boss, Doc. Hopefully, one day, she would share her testimony too.
Thou it tarries, I wait; Lord, help me to wait patiently.
During the testimony of the new parents, we were served all sorts of food, assorted drinks and wine; this reception is nothing short of exquisite. When I requested Amala, I could see the surprise on Oyinkan’s face.
“Yea, don’t ask me. I just love Amala and ewedu soup at parties.”
“Wow! I wish I can be that bold.”
“Why should I be eating rice when I eat it almost every day in my house?”
“Well, that makes sense.”
“Eh en now.” I smiled and balanced myself properly on my seat to eat. Halfway gone with my food, I noticed someone came behind Mummy Duke to whisper something in her ears, and a few minutes later, she told us that all three ladies on our table- Sister Joy, Oyinkan, and me- were needed to help out with the serving. I’m half-angry and hesitant because the food is so good, but what was I expecting anyway? Seeing all that décor, table setting arrangements, everything smells money, so I don’t expect the food to be less, but having to leave this food is exasperating. I left my food on the table, and took my personal belongings to the kitchenette at the back of the hall. Long story short, I heard that the caterers had an accident of sorts, which resulted in lots of broken plates, and three of the servers rushed to the hospital. I opted for plate-washing. You know that feeling you have that you are going to screw things up; I can’t afford to pour food on people in the name of serving. Moreover, I noticed that the plates were already piling and there was no place to buy or rent more plates, so I knew it was only a matter of time before they started needing clean plates, and with the crowd, that will be pretty soon. Joy offered to help pack dirty plates while Oyinkan and some other ladies joined the servers. I brought out my earpiece from my bag, played music that I’d previously downloaded on my phone and got down to business. After a few minutes, someone tapped me. I turned around to see a middle-aged woman standing by me, very beautiful and looking classy in an Ankara boubou, giving off the rich aunty vibes.
“Good evening, ma,” I greeted her.
“Thank you so much for helping, God bless you,” she said, rubbing my shoulder. “And, please, before you leave, make sure you see my sister.” She pointed in the direction of another woman who looked like a younger version of her.
“Ok, ma.”
“Mum, I think we should leave now,” came a pretty female voice that forced me to look in the other direction.
“Yes, I’m coming. I’m just putting finishing touches to some things.”
“Mum, you’re always putting finishing touches to things, we have to leave now. Aunty B will take care of the rest,” came a gentle masculine voice with a foreign accent. This time, I was forced to look in the direction of the voice, and our eyes met.
“Thanks again, my dear,” the middle-aged woman said, jolting me back to my present. I quickly turned my face to my plates.
“You are welcome, ma.” Then, she walked away but she was still within earshot.
“Mum, we must leave now, it’s almost 8 pm.” I could hear the female voice.
“And you need to rest before your meeting.” I could hear the male voice again. I couldn’t help but look in their direction, but I could only see the young lady’s face because the other two had their backs turned to me. She looks good, too. She resembled a typical northern bride in her stylish Ankara skirt and blouse, and with the way her scarf was stylishly tied.
“Just give me a few minutes, and we’ll be out of here,” she said.
I continued with my washing, only that this time, I didn’t put on my earpiece anymore. Before long, a woman came to me and asked me to leave the plates. When I turned and saw Oyinkan, Joy and the other ladies who had volunteered to help in a corner, I washed my hands and joined them.
“Thank you so much, ladies, we are very grateful for the help. You can’t understand how grateful I am for your help. I pray that you all will not lack help in your time of need.”
“AMEN!” We all chorused.
“I have a little something for you all,” she said, as a young man handed each of us a big polythene bag. We all thanked them and left. To think that I was planning to send less than an hour. Oyinkan excused herself to use the restroom, so I had to wait for her to enable us to leave together. While waiting, I saw Joy and Bro. Innocent walking towards the exit. I can deduce that both of them are in a romantic relationship, with the cozy way they were looking and smiling at each other. Before long, Oyinkan arrived, we both picked up our gift bags and exited the hall. When we got to the road, we waited on the roadside to board an okada or tricycle. Just then, a black Jeep stopped a few inches from us and reversed to where we were standing. In my mind, I was ready to say no to whoever it was. In this Lagos, do people still enter free rides with all the stories of ritual killings around town? Abeg, dey go, I will get home safely. Just then, the window of the Jeep rolled down and it happened to be the first woman who had come earlier to appreciate our help.
“Ladies, where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going to Palm Avenue while my friend is going to Crossing,” Oyinkan replied on our behalf.
“Pilot, is it anywhere along our route?” she asked the driver.
“Not, ma, but we can pass Federal Road, from where they can both get buses to their destinations.”
“That’s good,” she said to no one in particular. “Come in, girls, we will drop you halfway.” She got down from her car and adjusted the seat for us to enter.
“Thank you, ma,” we both chorused. The Jeep was a seven-passenger car, so Oyinkan and I sat in the back seat, put our gift bags on the floor, and balanced comfortably.
The ride was cool from the AC perfectly doing its job, and inside the car was dark, creating just the perfect environment and opportunity for me to quickly take a nap. I was almost dozing off when the woman turned to us.
“Ladies, what are your names?”
“Oyinkan Oni, ma,” Oyinkan replied first.
“My name is MoyosoreOluwa Okeowo.”
“Nice! Very lovely names, Oyinkan- Honey drops.”
“Yes ma,” Oyinkan responded giggling.
“MoyosoreOluwa- I rejoice at the gift of God. Very beautiful names!”
“Thank you, ma.” Oyinkan giggled again.
“Ladies, what do you do?”
“I teach in a private secondary school,” Oyinkan responded.
“I work with Classic Events and Planning,” I answered.
“You work for Feyi?” she asked surprisingly, as she faced us in the backseat.
“Yes, ma. She’s my boss,” I replied.
“That’s good. Very good,” She nodded. “What a small world!”
The rest of the journey was smooth, and thanks to the chilling AC in the car and the traffic congestion on the road, I was able to eventually take a short nap. It was Oyinkan that gave me a nudge when we were almost at our destination. When we got to our destination, we both thanked her for the ride and alighted from the car. I crossed to the other side of the road and took a bus to my house, or rather, my parents’ house.

CHAPTER NINE:

ABROAD PEOPLE

The rest of the weekend was uneventful, apart from the constant burden to pray for my boss. I just kept praying for her anytime her face pops up in my memory.
It’s Monday morning, and I’m in school. Truth be told, for weeks now, I have not been enjoying school. I’m just pushing myself, with the encouragement that my hand that has started this program will finish it. Moreover, I cannot afford to waste my hard-earned money, so after every class, I go to the library to study. For someone that never appreciated the library during my undergrad days, it’s like the library is now my second home. Another thing that has been helpful for me now is the extra lessons I’ve been getting from Sister Nneka. Nneka Oriaku is a PhD student, and of all the graduate students in our department- PhD and Masters, she seems to be the most approachable, more like everyone’s friend, and always available to offer advice. She counselled me on the lecturers I’d be better off avoiding like a plague, the ones whose assignments can’t be ignored. She gave me tips on how she was able to survive her Master’s days as a rookie at the University of Lagos, considering that she had her Bachelor’s degree from another federal institution in the eastern part of Nigeria. I don’t know much about her, but she speaks Yoruba fluently as she was born and bred in Lagos before moving to the east for her first degree. The way she’s able to switch from Yoruba to Igbo language without hassles is highly impressive. She’s simply a pleasant person. Other students called her Aunty Nneka, so I just followed suit. Currently, she’s in her second year. I often see her at the studio, drawing some designs or something else, but besides her hardworking nature, I always feel a burden to pray for her. Anytime I see her working in the studio or walking to the car park, I usually sense some heaviness in her. So, most times, I just pray for her in my heart, asking God to lift every spirit of heaviness and give her the oil of gladness.
On this particular day, as I sit in my usual spot in the library, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I knew that I had to talk to Aunty Nneka, whether talk or pray, I’m not fully certain, but I need to see her. In a few minutes, I found her as usual at the studio working. I stylishly asked if I could pray with her, and to my surprise, she agreed. I prayed the only thing that comes to mind anytime I see her- the oil of gladness.
The rest of the week went by quickly. Nothing exciting, still hoping and trusting God to help me scale through this academic journey. Except that I got a call from my boss requesting me to see her at home on Saturday by 11 am. That’s not new, I only need to plan myself properly because whenever I have to go to Onyx Estate, it usually takes the whole day.

On Saturday, I woke up early to do some laundry. Almost all my clothes are dirty, been piling them up all week long. Life has been busy lately- school, work, and my new side hustle. Yea, I decided to help Oyinkan and Dapo plan their wedding and she has been so elated. So, basically, we’ve been communicating through calls and WhatsApp chats. Tomorrow, after church, we should be able to discuss it in detail. I don’t know how we got close but I have been drawn to her since she joined our church almost two years ago. I guess it might be the attraction I have for her surname- Oni. I used to have this Chemistry teacher that I admired so much who was very patient and motherly. Her surname was Oni, so whenever I meet anyone that bears that surname, I automatically assume the person would be good like her. Same for Samuel, once Tobi told me his surname, I just accepted him!
Anyways, back to how my Saturday went. By the time I was done with laundry, I knew I was going to be late for the appointment with my boss. I arrived at her house at about noon and went straight to her office. I had knocked on the door before I realized that she had a visitor because I could hear them laughing.
“Come in, Mo,” I heard Doc say.
“Good afternoon, ma. I’m so sorry for coming late,” I apologized as I got in.
“Bawo ni? Come in and have a seat.” She gesticulated with her hands that I should sit beside her visitor.
As I sat, I looked at the guest, a young man sitting pretty on the chair. His perfume was almost blinding my nostrils. What a commanding presence! I like that!
“Moyo, meet Odunayo, our new client. Odunayo, meet Moyo. She’s one of my able assistants.”
“Hi, Moyo, I’m pleased to meet you.” He stretched his hands to shake my hands.
I think I know this guy. Is he not the one with his family at the naming ceremony a few days ago? This his Oyinbo accent is unmistakable! I remember his mummy talking about knowing Doc, so it’s safe to assume that he is the one.
“Hi!” I also extended my hands to him. His handshake is firm. Not bad. His hair and beard are also neatly trimmed. I think I’ll give him a seven and a half, his fingernails are neat… Scratch that, I think I’ll give him an eight and a half! Ha, Moyo only you are seeing all these things. I quickly gave myself a mental knock for secretly admiring a stranger, well, come to think of it, it’s been a while since I’ve scored a guy in my head.
“So, Moyo,” my boss said, jolting me back to reality. “I will leave you to talk with Odunayo. Feel free to discuss everything besides money.”
“Yes, ma.”
“Lady and gentleman, I will leave you to talk business.” With that, my boss left us in her office.
Of all days, Moyo, is this the day for you to be dressed nonchalantly? I look at myself, I was wearing the red Tee-shirt my sisters gave me for my birthday two years ago, “I rejoice” stylishly writing on it. My braids were already rough, though I’m supposed to change them this week, but guess what? I’m here at work.
“I rejoice,” he said to me.
“Yea.” I chucked, looking down at the inscription on my Tee-shirt. “It’s the literal translation of my name.”
“Yea, I know that.”
“Oh yea, I forgot. You are Yoruba, right?”
“Yea, don’t I look like one?”
With this your accent, my brother, no sir, you don’t. You look like a Caribbean mixed race. I smiled instead of responding.
“So, let us get to business,” I said to him, bringing out my notepad and a pen.
“Yea, that’s right. We want to surprise Ife, my baby sister, with a sweet sixteen birthday party. She loves gold colour, 30 to 40 people, I guess. And her birthday is on the 21st but we want it on the 26th.”
“Ok, that’s good,” I said, taking notes. “Do you already have a venue?”
“Yep, we have a few options, we can use the Orisun banquet. I’ll get the actual venue for you.”
“Ok, that’s good. Let’s talk about food and drinks, is there…?”
“Speaking of food, it’s lunchtime, can we go somewhere to eat and talk about food at the same time?” he interrupted. I paused and looked up from my note. Is this guy winding me ni?
“Don’t worry, it’s not a date. I’m famished and I just thought we could finish our discussion there.”
“Ok, sir.” I stood up, packing my personal belongings.
He stood up too, and took his car keys and mobile phone from the table.
Wow, he’s so tall. Nice one, I think he’s taller than me sef. He is definitely a nine.
“Shall we?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please! No sirs. My name is Odun, Odunayo Olanrewaju. You can call me Odunayo.”
“Ok, Odunayo. Point taken.” He smiled at me. Chai, this guy is fine sha, see me blushing at someone’s property. Make I check if he has a band. I quickly looked at his hands. No ring! Thank God he doesn’t have one.
We both walked outside, I followed behind to give him room to lead the way to the street where he parked his car. He has a fine white car. He pressed the car remote, and the rear lights beeped. He went to the driver’s side while I went to the passenger’s side, opened the door and sat. He used his seatbelt, put the key in the ignition and paused.
Is he praying?
I seize the opportunity to use my seat belt too. A few seconds later, he turned to me.
“I think we should go to Locals, you will like it.”
Which one is my own? Just do and let me go. I still have things to do today. If possible sef, I can make my hair.
“I hope I’m not wasting your time.”
Na wa o, this guy is just reading someone’s mind.
“That’s fine, I’m working, so you get my undivided attention and time.”
As we drove out of the estate, I noticed he paused at the estate gate, rolled down his window and exchanged some sort of personal greetings with one of the security personnel. A few minutes later, we were at a nice restaurant not far from the estate. The restaurant was indeed ‘local,’ almost everything in the restaurant was locally sourced, the place was built with bamboo trees and palm fronds which gives it a traditional feel on the outside but it’s modern and exquisite on the inside, designed with artefacts, local drums and the likes. We settled at a corner table where a waiter dressed in unique Ankara short and buba came to attend to us.
“Good day, sir and ma. Welcome to Locals. This is the menu for today. What would you like?”
“So, Moyo, I’m thinking we kind of want to sort out our tummies before we get to business,” he said, looking at the menu card. “What would you like? I think you should try the Amala with ewedu and gbegiri soup.”
Wait o, what’s happening? Is this guy reading my mind? Because I’m not understanding again but I am not going to give him that satisfaction.

“Sir, I’m good. You can eat while I wait for you. When you are done, we can continue.”
“Nah, come on! I eat while you look? That’s not good… just get anything. Bills are on me.”
Before nko?
“I’ll have the ofada special, thank you,” he said, returning the menu to the table.
“Ok, sir, and you, ma?”
I looked at the menu briefly. “I’ll have your happy hour catfish pepper soup.”
“Ok, ma and sir. I’ll be right back.” Then he turned and left.
“That’s a good choice.”
“Thank you. Before the food gets here, I still have a few questions for you. What time do you want the party to start?” I said to him, bringing out my notepad.
I looked up and realized that he was staring at me keenly.
“Is there a problem, sir?” I asked genuinely.
“Nah, you tell me,” he retorted.
“I don’t understand.” I sounded more confused.
“Do I scare you?”
I looked at him. “I don’t follow you, sir. I’m only doing my job by asking all these questions.”
“Ok, that’s fine but can you do me a favour? Can we eat before we continue the planning?”
“Ok, sir.” I quickly put away the notepad and used the opportunity to access the restaurant properly. Anywhere else but his face. I could feel his eyes on me but I’ll rather stare at the talking drum on the wall than look at his face. A few minutes later, the waiter appeared with our order, I thanked the waiter and dug in immediately. I stylishly looked at my client, I saw him pause briefly.
Moyo, see yourself, you can’t even pray before eating. I also paused and prayed over the food. Well, it’s not too late to do the right thing, I defended myself. We ate in silence. The food was very good, we both opted for water. I noticed he didn’t engage me in any form of conversation, which was fine by me because this pepper soup make sense die. How I wish to get some for my mum, she would really like this. I have no idea how pricey this place is, I’ll just note the place and come another day when my account is smiling.
“Thanks for lunch,” I said, after I was done with my food.
“You are welcome. There’s room for takeaway, would you like to order some more or something else?”
With my eyes bulging, I couldn’t contain my surprise.
Now, I get it, something is wrong. Is there a jazz for mind reading, abi this is what Lagos boys are using to catch their prey?
I laughed instead. “Thank you, sir. I am okay.”
“Ok, what are the other questions you wanted to ask me?” For another forty-five minutes, we deliberated on more ideas, and in another few minutes thereafter, we said our goodbyes and scheduled our next meeting for the coming week.
The following day after church service, I, Oyinkan, and her fiancé Dapo, met to plan their wedding. We spoke extensively about the vendors, I introduced some affordable vendors to her, and she agreed to check them out. We also spoke about my service charge, and we both agreed on what she could afford. So far, everything is going on fine.

CHAPTER TEN:

GOOD NEWS!

I am not enjoying this class at all. I rolled my eyes mentally as I sat in the Urban Design class. This lecturer is not even making it interesting at all. How can he tell us to use the library to answer a question he should have answered himself? Come to think of it, I didn’t see Aunty Nneka in school yesterday, even today when I passed by the studio, and that’s strange.
“That’s all for today, see you next week.” Doctor Ojo’s voice jolted me back to the present.
“Thank you, sir,” some of the students chorused as he left the class.
I brought out my phone to dial Aunty Nneka’s number, but it was not going through. I’ll try and call her again before the day is over.
“Guys, please submit your assignment. Today is the deadline, I will go and submit once it is 2 pm, please,” I heard the Head of Class (HOC) announce loudly above the chatter in the class.

I began to gather my things to go to the library when I was interrupted by the vibration of my phone. I looked at it, it was Aunty Eli (a.k.a. Mummy Victor). She is my beloved sister from another mother, I consider her a treasure in my life. She came at a very strategic time of my life; I would have been lost. God bless you, Aunty Eli. Even though she now lives in Abeokuta, we still connect from time to time. She happens to be one of my voices of reasoning, my prayer partner, I used to be her ‘ handbag’ when she was trusting God for a spouse. As long as her spirit agrees with the program, we are there live and direct to pray our way through. She encouraged me to pray for a life partner then, how I miss this woman!
“Ha, Aunty Eli, you called me,” I screamed into the phone.
“Bawo ni, Moyo? She answered with her Beninese accent. Aunty Eli is originally from the Republic of Benin. We went on to exchange pleasantries, I asked about her kids- Victor, Eunice and Deborah. I have missed those kids. She asked me about my number one prayer point and I had to tell her ‘no show’ yet. She told me to start praying against the spirit of fear. I gave her a summary of how I’m finding school difficult, and trust her to end the call with prayers. What’s a call from Aunty Eli without prayers? Despite her level of education, she is a definition of hard work and perseverance. She came to Lagos with her cousin at the age of twelve to do menial jobs of selling the famous “Ewa agoyin” and washing of clothes. She used to come and wash clothes for some of my neighbours, and that’s where we met. And the rest, as they say, is history. It feels good hearing her voice. It dawned on me that I’ve not been keeping in touch with friends. So, I made a mental note to call Nike and Busola from school days, and one of my younger cousins who have been on my mind lately too.
Later in the day, I tried to call Aunty Nneka again but no response. At that moment, a call came in from a strange number. When I picked it, it turned out to be Odunayo. I don’t know if I should be happy or angry. It would have been nice to see him though, but it’s starting to look like he is one of those difficult clients. I told him I’ll call him once I receive responses from some of the vendors. Moreso, we already had an agreement.
The next day in school, I had an appointment with one of my lecturers. Walking into the studio, there was still no sign of Aunty Nneka, then I knew something was wrong. I said a quick prayer of protection for her in my heart. Torn between trying to mind my business and showing concern, I had to ask Kola (he seems to always know everything), whom I found walking into the studio. He told me he heard that she had travelled out of the country.
Now, that’s good news. I’ve been hearing of people leaving the country but I don’t know anyone personally that has travelled out of the country. I was happy for her.
On Sunday, I got the response from the vendors I wanted for the surprise party, then I sent Odun a text message to send me his email address so I can forward the information to him. However, as I already predicted, he wanted a face-to-face meeting. We fixed a time to meet at the office.

As I woke up, I wanted to dress really nice but on second thought, who was I trying to impress? A guy who might not be available or probably just wants to get into my pants? By the time, I got to the office I was so nervous that I got up to use the restroom three times before it was 12 noon. I was sweaty, jumpy, and it was so bad that even Chibuzor had to ask me if everything was fine. Odunayo came in exactly at 1 pm as agreed, assaulting our olfactory lobes with his perfume. The meeting was brief and I kept it professional. I ensured that I answered all his questions and gave necessary assurance that we wouldn’t disappoint.
By the time we were done, I decided to walk him to his car, then he said, “I want to invite you to the party.”
“Well, I’m already coming to the party, not as a guest but as an event planner to oversee things, so don’t worry, you would see me there.”
I could sense he wanted to say something but changed his mind.
“Thank you very much, Moyo. See you on Saturday.”
“See you, sir,” I said, shaking his extended hands. I waited till he got into his car and drove off.
Oluwa o, money is good o. Even though they finally decided to use a smaller hall, I still feel it’s too expensive for a teenage party, and all the vendors with a variety of foods, drinks, games and side attractions are something else. I just pray that they stick to time.
The party went smoothly; the celebrant was really surprised. She was hugging Odunayo and two other ladies which I’m guessing are her sisters. I noticed that their mum came in briefly, snapped pictures with the celebrant and a few others, and left. The balloon arch decoration that served as the gift corner was filled with gifts. There was a lot of dancing and snapping, especially by the kids with their expensive mobile phones. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Odunayo laughing with some of his guests in what seems like the adult corner. A few times, I could sense his eyes were following me, so I had to pretend to go talk to the ice cream vendor, just to avoid his eyes. But overall, I was proud that I could single-handedly pull this off. I never knew I’d learnt this much from my boss. Even though I’ve been nervous about Oyinkan’s wedding, I am more confident that I can pull it off but I might need some extra hands.
By evening time, the party was over, and I was about to leave when I heard footsteps behind me.
“That was fast.” I turned and saw Odunayo walking toward me. “You really did a good job and I wanted to say thank you.”
“Well, thank you too for patronizing us, it was your money that was doing all the talking,” I replied.
“Fair enough. So where are you headed?”
“I’m going home.”
“I can help you, and please don’t say no. Please wait, I’ll be back.” He immediately walked away and returned after a few minutes with another young man.
“Pilot, this is my friend, she needs help getting home.”
The young man responded, “Ok sir.”
I couldn’t even argue, I was just looking at the young man as he led the way.
“Thank you, Odun, I really appreciate it.” I walked away and followed the gentleman to the car. I got into the car and gave him my address. I looked into the rear mirror and saw Odun waving his hands. A lady came out to join him where he was standing still. He was soon out of sight. It felt like a painful goodbye but I don’t understand why he would be sad. Doesn’t he want me to go home? Anyways, the traffic was light, I was almost home when I remembered that I wanted to buy some things at the market. If I’d taken public transport home, I would have remembered because there are so many reminders on the way home. Reluctantly, I told the driver to drop me that I need to go pick up some things at a nearby market, but he declined and told me he would wait for me. That was when I remembered that I didn’t have enough cash with me and needed to use the ATM. The driver offered to take me to the nearest ATM, and then to the market thereafter. I thanked him profusely because he just saved me a great deal of stress. When I got home, I sent a thank you text to Odunayo. This time, I saved his number.

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I am really enjoying d story, keep it coming !!!!!
Welldone ma!!

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The cycle continues: home-work-school plus library-church. However, a few things happened this week. First of all, I got a voice note (VN) from Aunty Nneka in response to the one I had previously dropped for her on WhatsApp. I had seen the two checkmarks, but I didn’t see it turn blue, so imagine my surprise when I looked at my phone and I saw her VN. I’m so thrilled to hear from her. She told me she had relocated to Texas, USA, to start her PhD program, and thanked me for my friendship. Secondly, Oyinkan called me that her wedding has been postponed to next year, she didn’t state any reason, but she assured me that all was fine.
Another good news! my boss called me to come to the office on Saturday that she needs to see me. I hope she’s not trying to set me up with Odunayo because I’ve not heard from him since the party, so my boss calling me might just be another trap. Of course, I went, it turned out to be something else- work. When we were done with the meeting, she randomly asked me what my shoe size is. I told her that I use size 42 or 43, depending on the shoe cut, and she told me of Ejiro, her husband’s niece that was in the country from the States doing some business. She would like me to meet her and hear her out, I agreed. Doc called Ejiro and told her to get a cab and join us at the office. My people, when she came, I greeted her as “ma” before Doc said she’s only 22 years and had just finished college. What! How can a 22-year-old be this huge? AMERICAN WONDER INDEED!
Anyways, Ejiro is in Nigeria to launch her shoe business named “Big Feet.” Big Feet is a store where people with big feet can shop conveniently. O make sense gan, that’s a very good idea. I can totally relate with the difficulty of buying shoes in Balogun market, or any other market for that matter. I also learnt that one can design their shoe and it will be produced for you. I shared some of the challenges I’ve had as someone who has large feet and promised to take her to where I usually get some of my shoes, that is, if they have any because most times, I just call the guy and tell him what I need so he can be on the lookout for me. Ejiro told me she had some sample shoes and asked if I would be interested in taking some photos. Of course, I agreed. Moreover, they are just feet pictures.