Thanks for the update

I’m still hoping for a miracle for Olaedo... bikonu

Tanks for the update


Free Akwaugo na, biko nuuu

Akwaugo's suffering is becoming too much. Nwamaka and Mezie should kill each other I beg. Thanks for the update ma'am

Thanks for the update.I don't fully blame Akwaugo, she was traumatized.
I pray for a miracle for Olaedo.
I also feel she is pregnant

Rosemary33:
Chapter 45


‘She would have run to the church, but she knew that somethings should be handled from the root. It all started here- the first oath she did took”

Lesson learnt
Flee from blood oath whether done fetishly or religiously or ignorantly.

You are good Ma!!!!
Can't wait to see this on OkadaBooks.

Thanks for the update Rosie

Thanks for the update

THANKS FOR THE UPDATE

The next update will be tomorrow morning please, I went partying over the weekend I started writing it today.

Please forgive me and love me back.

You c your self

It's already morning

collinometricx:
It's already morning

She'll go to work Na.

11 : 59AM is still morning.

Ayemileto:


She'll go to work Na.

11 : 59AM is still morning.

It's now 12:51

collinometricx:


It's now 12:51

Monitoring spirit���

We're waiting patiently!

Ann2612:
We're waiting patiently!

Me too Rose

dawno2008:

Monitoring spirit���

He said I asked too early

Chapter 45

He knew his chi had wanted him to recover all he’d lost. Who said sacrifices don't work? Barely a day after his arduous journey to the forbidden forest of Okija, and it seemed as if the gods had suddenly awoken in his favor. Didn’t the priest tell him that there would be a sign which would confirm the acceptance of his sacrifice?

This was it.

“Where is my money?” He gritted.

Mezie saw colour evaporate from her face, warmth flew faster than dry season rain on the tarmac from her eyes, replaced with horror of recognition. Her lips quivered as she tried to mutter his name without success. Whatever was remaining of the air in her miserable lungs got stuck in her throat.

“Onye Oshi. Thief. Where is my money?” He barked, not minding the eyes staring at them, the side comments. However, he knew he had to tread carefully as it would be easy to tag him as a rapist or an abusive husband by on-lookers if he makes a single mistake.

As if reading his mind, Nwanneka backed away, “Which money? Am I owing you?”

Anumpama. She wants to play games ehn? Well, he wasn’t going to be a coward and miss this opportunity of getting even.

“Nwanneka, I am not joking. Where is the money you collected from my house!”

“See me oh, I am not owning this man.” She gestured to the onlookers, “He took me in for a job, till day break and he refused to pay. I only collected what he owed me and left, that was it o.”

“Egbe elu gbachipugi nti, mad girl. Who did you sleep with till day break? You heartless, wicked witch.”

Burning rage hissed through his body like deadly poison. Screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. He had not laid his hands on anyone for some time now and by God, he would want nothing else than to get his hands on her neck and squeeze until she snapped.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Nwanneka retorted. Shrugging off his hand and made to slide into the crowd and disappear.

He would not allow that. Not when it was obvious that his chi had brought his enemy to him for recompense. Fury swept off him like ferocious waves, his unholy excitement ran through his body like a second blood.

He pushed his way through the crowd to get to the lady matching off in a hurry. Amidst side talks and mocking laughter, he gave her an equal pursuit, determined to squeeze his money out of her by all means or kill her at the spot, he increased his pace as she increased hers.

Wrath consumed him, clogging his mind. He was lost in the moment and the prison his brain was in. He was blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter, yet so satisfying. He was getting close. If luck was by his side, he would catch up with her and punch her until she would cringe from her reflection on the mirror.

She ran across the road and he followed.

He the gods want to kill; they first make deaf- literally.

Every scream, every shout for him to turn back turned into buzzes in his ears. Something stronger was pulling him- propelling him to keep running after the woman, all of a sudden, he couldn’t see her, couldn’t see anything at all. He couldn’t feel his legs on the tared road- yet he was moving, floating like a leaf in harmattan.

He was not on the road anymore. He was back in his compound, scooping sand into a bottle. The hooting owl was there, a shadow was casted before him- an unusual creature, dark naked figure with leaves around his loin, with an offor in his right hand, the figure’s cold glassy eyes casted steely on him- piercing him like a dagger.

What am I doing in this place?

Who was this ghastly ethereal buffy being? And why had the little owl turned into a monstrous bird with a hideous shrill?

“Chukwumezie, son of Anaeto. The gods had given their verdict.”

He was dreaming in broad daylight. Oria iba, that must be it. He had to treat himself of malaria- but first, he had to wake up from this dark place.

The trance disappeared as fast as it came. That was when he saw the SUV running with a full speed towards him, looking around he realized he was at the center of the road. His legs rooted to the ground as if held by unseen forces.

As the SUV drew closer, the muffled voices became louder. It was too late for him, he was on the ground in a matter of seconds. The pain that once burnt like fire faded away so fast to an icy numbness, the only thing he could feel was his own heartbeat and the movement of his eyeballs.

His breath came in ragged, shallow gasp. Then he started hearing voices, people swam over him, trying to help him up. In his state, he wanted to laugh at their ignorance of the realm that had controlled what happened to him. He felt for them for trying to help whom his chi had condemned.

It was over for him.

His only prayer was that the angel of death would take his life faster and ease his depressed spirit. He closed his eyes and submitted to the darkness that still hovered.

There was one problem- death was taking so much time.

*
For once, he was grateful that Okoye had his personal number.

Odogwu, what kind of rain is falling in your house? I saw your woman running like one whose house was raided by soldier ants and had her dress filled with them, down the valley, towards ‘Mmiri Ele.’ Is it that the barber doesn’t know how to barb or the clipper is blunt?

The call had come when he was about leaving for the police station for the third time that day, not at all in the mood for the man’s eulogies which always end in one financial demand or the other- not that he was complaining, in fact, he had consciously included the man in his monthly payroll.

Only that he was not ready to speak to anyone who wouldn’t give him any meaningful suggestion how he could find Akwaugo and his daughter.

Two hours later and he was trotting down the part that led to the river. thanks to his newly acquired private jet and to Femi Otedola who’d succeeded in convincing him that he needed one.

She was nowhere around the river bank. He flashed his touch from his phone around, called out her name so loud that he feared the spirit of the dead would hear and come for him in the lonely place. He was greeted by the sound of his rebounded voice.

A sudden rustling in the bush startled him. He turned, only to see a turtle retiring into the bush through a narrow path, without thinking twice, he followed. By day, it wasn’t so difficult to walk through the path that led to the shrine, but as darkness had descended- walking through same road which was intertwined with thick tree roots became disheartening and scary, soft wet sand swallowed his sandals- his feet with them, each time he made a step.

The path at his feet faded as it led him into the thicker darkness of the forest, yet following it he must for the sake of Akwaugo and his daughter. Somewhere in there- she awaits him, even without being told, something in the giant roots and leaves seemed to convince him.

The gentle spirits he couldn’t see but felt like a cold breeze made him feel that the answer he’d been looking for concerning his union with Akwaugo would be found here. All he had to do was to open his senses to sounds, to scents and listen carefully to every instinct.

The path led him to the shrine of Edo.

She was there, lay on her side with the bundle firmly secured beside her. At first, he thought she was dead and had panicked, as he drew closer, he heard the whizzing of her ragged breath and the sound of her jittering teeth.

“Akwaugo.”

She didn’t stir.

He squatted and shook her roughly, “Akwaugo.”

She groaned, turned her head and stared into his face. her eyes had frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, rubbing them of their usual warmth. He meant to get the baby off her arms but she held her closer to her chest, glaring at him as if he was an enemy.

One look at the baby and he knew there was nothing left of her. His Ola was gone for a reason he was yet to find out. Agony clogged his throat, dejection and defeat descended on him like the darkness that was around them. Once again, he felt the ugly claws of grief upon his shoulder- a grief worse than what he felt when he watched his first wife give up on that hospital bed many years ago.

Yet he couldn’t cry. Akwaugo mustn’t see his tears, it would break her more.

“Akwaugo m. please let’s go home,” he croaked. How difficult it was for a man to hide pains when all he wanted to do was to tear on every leave and stomp the ground.

Sitting with legs stretched before her, the baby on her breast as if she wanted to suckle the child, she remained motionless. Wide eyes fixed on him.

He knew she was still in there, but it was as if she took a huge step back from life. He wanted to reach in and tell her all would be well, that they could try for another child and call her Olaedo if that would make her happy.

She wouldn’t believe him. The way she sat with her grip firm around the child, it would take a stronger force to get this woman out of this dark forest.

“Get away from me.” She whispered coldly.

“Babe, let’s go home.”

“There is no home. This is my home, here with my child, buried in this forest where I will no longer hurt anyone again.”

It was more than a man could take in a single night. The death of a child, and watching the woman he loved lose her mind.

God! What have I done? What crime did I commit to be punished with this misery?

He touched her cold stiffened chin and she flinched.

“What do you want from me?” she moaned.

“You, my love, my wife, my destiny.”

She blinked. For the first time since he arrived, he saw tears streamed down her face and when she looked at him, he knew she saw him finally.

“The child is no more. Our child is dead…” she looked down on the baby, offering her to him freely. “I killed her…Morgan, I killed our child. I would have listened and stayed away from you, that way, she would have lived.”

As he took the baby. His pain became an icy wind choking the breath from his lungs and making a noose around his neck. It's savage, bitter blast cut right to his bones and grip his brain in it’s freezing claws. His heart constricted as if it would stop beating.

Kissing the little cheeks, he placed the baby’s face to his and let out the cry that had knocked on the back of his throat. When tears came, a hot stream of tears, the first one after a very long time, he knew the battle to get hold of himself was lost.

“She wouldn’t have died. I didn’t listen.” She muttered.

Morgan knew he had to say something, but nothing other than a sob escaped his lungs when he opened his mouth.

He sat beside her, still holding the child, he circled his hand around her waist from behind and waited.

It was getting late. Soon it would be midnight and the spirits would gather for whatever they do in the night. They needed to get out of there, find a place and bury the child, he needed to nurse Akwaugo back to life.

“Let’s go home.” He pleaded.

“You have to go without me, it's better that way, I don’t want to cause you more pain.”

“If God or these deities want to kill me for your sake, then I am okay with it. If you are cursed, then they should equally curse me. I am not leaving without you. You are my family, my wife, the queen of my heart and my empire.”

It was funny how what he had seen in the movies became real- with him playing the major cast. There he was, in a dreaded forest, at the dead of the night, with a lifeless child in his arms, a heart filled with agony, professing undying love to an unstable woman.

With his eyes shut, he tilted his head to the side, supporting the weight with his shoulder. In a short while, he felt the burden in his arms getting heavier. He adjusted his arms and something else gave him concern- the body was becoming warm.

Morgan flicked his eyes opened, his brain stuttered for a moment, every part of him went on pause while his head tried to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.

Colour was returning to the little body; her temperature had gone from cold to very hot in seconds.

The baby cracked a sound.

dawno2008:

Monitoring spirit���

chai, our baby is alive! Rosemary33 God bless you for saving my Ola

Thank God �

I can’t be happier, Ola is back..... Yippee
Mezie...... good riddance to bad rubbish

Thanks for the update ma’am

Glory to God, ola is back. Thanks Rose for the update.

My happiness is that good have prevailed over evil.

Thank God

Omo, my heart was just doing kigum kigum while reading, Thank you Auntie Rose

Ooohhhh my God

Thanks alot for this beautiful update...

Wow, Olaedo is alive
Thanks Rosie for the update

Mezie shouldn't die now oo, because I am still enjoying his craziness. Ola is alive.....I'm so so happy. Thanks for the update ma'am

Wow.....
Thanks for the wonderful update ...