Kemi had gone to visit Prophet Samson that
Sunday just after the worship service in the small bamboo church painted in a
queer mix of blue, red and white.
The last of the regular worshippers had
just left and Prophet Samson was getting ready to attend to the small crowd of faithfuls
who were waiting for spiritual counselling, or wanted him to see a vision or
prophesy for them.
Prophet Samson, or ‘Daddy Prophet,’ as
many of the worshippers reverently call him, was dressed in a flowing white
robe, with a red sash worn diagonally over it with the words ‘HIS HOLINESS, THE
HOLY PROPHET’ boldly sown with white thread.
Kemi had been reluctant to visit ‘Daddy
Prophet,’ but yielded after so much nagging by Aunt Simi every time she visited
the house, which was so often she could pass for one of the residents of the
house. Aunt Simi had the notorious fame of having four children from three
different men been and being divorced three times. But it was an infamous badge
she now wore with less shame or care. She had long endured all the street
gossips and side and was now inured to them.
“A young, single lady like you must go
and divine her future husband before it is late. A woman must marry God’s will
when choosing a husband or marriage could turn out to be hell for her on earth.
My example should suffice for you,” Aunt Simi would badger her endlessly until
her voice grew hoarse.
Not that Kemi was hearing that for the
first time though. In spite of their sophisticated looks, most young women in the
city and even sometimes the young men go to some Prophets somewhere to divine
‘God’s will’ in marriage for themselves.
‘Daddy Prophet’ was about the most
popular in this business of envisioning a future spouse for a young man or
woman. Young people in their mid or late 20’s and early 30’s flocked in from
the plush corridors of the city and the outskirts to his humble bamboo church
to know about who or what lay ahead of them. No one dared questioned his
visions or doubted them. Even if the prophesies don’t happen exactly as he had
said them, the faithful worshippers always had some way to explain them away
with rational judgement.
“I want to marry my own husband from
God who will give me peace, prosperity and all the good things of life,” the throng
of young unmarried women who queue to see ‘Daddy Prophet’ on the appointed days
would say.
Sometimes a young lady would steal her
boyfriend’s picture when she visited him and then take to Prophet Samson to
divine with so she could know whether to continue to stick with him or look for
another suitor.
Kemi stood rooted at a spot and shook
with trepidation inside. Baba’s reputation overwhelmed her. “Good afternoon, Prophet,”
she greeted and curtseyed. “I want to know who I should marry,” she said
abruptly.
‘Daddy Prophet’ looked at her and his
eyes drilled into hers like he was trying to decrypt a message locked behind
it; something esoteric. Kemi’s knee weakened and she looked away.
“Ah,
my sweet young lady. You’re a lucky one. Your husband will be a ‘Tokunbo.’ He
will be well-to-do.” ‘Daddy Prophet’ prophesied as soon as they were inside the
bamboo church and began the business of the day.
“’Tokunbo?’ His name will be Tokunbo…?”
Kemi enquired. She wanted more information.
“No. I cannot know his name. The Lord
does not reveal names. But your husband will come from overseas; that means he
will be a ‘Tokunbo.’ He will be a rich man. This is your marriage destiny from
the Lord,” ‘Daddy Prophet’ explained.
………………………………………………….
When Kemi came to from her reverie, she
shrugged. Femi was still patiently imploring, mumbling some mumbo-jumbo Kemi
could barely make out. She instantly felt irritated and snapped. “Why, I have
wasted an entire day of my life standing here with you for no sensible reason!
Are you such a slacker you don’t even value time? Do you realize I was on an
errand when you stopped me? Wait, why am I even blaming you? I have been the
stupid one waiting here and listening, as if you cast some spell on me, to the
gibberish you’re spewing to amuse yourself and your friends! Please I have to
go,” Kemi said and stomped off, leaving Femi mortified and rooted to the spot.
She barely heard from Femi again. But a
month later, Femi called again. He was the proverbial patient dog. Femi thought
inanely: Maybe Kemi was testing him to see if he had tempers; something single women
avoided in prospective suitors like a plague.
But Kemi wasn’t testing Femi. She was
simply obeying the Lord’s will, according to Prophet Samson or ‘Daddy Prophet,’
as the church faithfuls called him. She loved him, but she must love God more.
The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. She must not yield to the flesh.
Femi was the flesh; but the Lord’s will, as seen by Prophet Samson, was the
spirit; and the spirit must prevail to tame the desires of the flesh, Kemi
convinced herself.
In time, Femi got to understand Kemi
may never yield to his wooing. He never understood why though. Maybe there was
some other guy. Maybe she wanted to be a career lady who ‘married’ her books
instead. Maybe she wanted to be a nun.
Whichever it was, Kemi never told Femi
and, after some time, he too stopped asking or pestering her. He no longer
stopped to talk with her every time he saw her. Most times now, he would just
wave at her and flash a smile. The calls dwindled too especially after he moved
to another city. He went from calling every day to just twice a week and then
no calls at all.
In spite of herself, it hurt Kemi. But
she was determined to obey ‘the Lord’s will.’ She must be strong and not yield
to the temptations of the flesh. But the tough hide she tried to put up to
fight her true emotions didn’t last long, and she was beside herself. It ate
her up very night and in dreams and visions she would see Femi come to her and
ask again if she wanted to be with him. She would cry and with hearts thumping
so loud say “Yes” and she would beg him to forgive her; and then she would wake
up and become sullen and confused.
Sometimes when she woke up from her
dreams or trance, she would moan and mope until the tears in her eyes dried and
she lost all appetite for food. Once, she could no longer take it and decided
to call Prophet Samson on the phone. Perhaps God would change His mind and
Prophet Samson would say Femi was the Lord’s will and not some ‘Tokunbo.’
“I’m sorry, sir. But is God’s will for me
still this ‘Tokunbo’ I am yet to see?” Kemi stuttered after ‘Daddy Prophet’
picked the line and said ‘the Peace of the Lord be upon the caller’ - his usual
refrain in place of ‘Hello.’
But there was silence on the phone
after Kemi asked her question. A pin drop silence.
“Hello. Hello, Prophet…” Kemi stammered
some more.
“Yes!” Prophet Samson’s voice was curt.
“Emm,
I just want to know if… if… I mean, I have a friend called Femi….” Kemi rambled.
Just then, the tiny echo of the call
tone assaulted Kemi’s ears. The line was dead.
“Hello… Hello, sir…” Kemi called. She
tried to redial, but Prophet Samson didn’t pick and she stopped after ten
tries.
After that day, each time Kemi called
the Prophet Samson, he would refuse to answer the call. The worshippers that
need Daddy Prophet’s intervention these days must be so many. He’s seems very
busy, Kemi rationalised for Prophet Samson.
But after two weeks and ‘Daddy Prophet’
would still not answer Kemi’s call, she started to doubt her own excuses for Prophet
Samson. But one day he finally answered the call after she had bugged his phone
and refused to stop until he picked up the line.
“Ah, Your Holiness, thank God I finally
got you,” Kemi said and heaved a sigh of relief. “I’ve been trying to reach you
on a small matter. It’s about my friend…”
But Prophet Samson rudely interrupted
her. “Are you doubting the word of the Lord?” he bellowed. “I have told you the
Lord’s Will for you and you are questioning it? You must repent of this
insolence and fast unto the Lord.”
“I am sorry sir. I will abide by the
Lord’s will,” Kemi sputtered again; her shoulders slumped, her body turned icy
cold.
That call marked the end of her
resistance to the Lord’s will as seen by Prophet Samson. She beat herself for
days which turned weeks. And for penance for questioning the Lord’s will, she
fasted for seven days.
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