God does not play dice

Sunday, July 05, 2015 0 Comments A+ a-

Guest Writer: Emeka Ndububa


Hey guys, long time shey? I apologize for the long absence. I have been working on the first fiction ever on 'Esther Adeniyi's blog'. But after madam happily screeched after I told her I was working on a piece of fiction, she surprisingly went behind my back and came up with 'ENTANGLED'.

The cheat! Miss Adeniyi 'Jacobs', Olori nla! But I sha enjoyed it. I'm sure you enjoyed the story too. OK, it's my go. You know me. I love to tell stories - My personal stories. But this time, it's totally fictional and nothing romantic like madam's own. But it's something we can all enjoy and learn from. I guess you are already scrolling down to see how long it is. I know, I know, it's always too long, just bear with me.


'GOD DOES NOT PLAY DICE.'

The rain was at it's tail end now, leaving just showers drizzling to the ground. Mrs Adeoye stood up to join the several hundreds of people milling out of the church building who were previously held hostage by the heavy downpour. She was joyous, her spirit had been uplifted by all the power-packed prayers and pronouncements from the Reverend. She tucked the Eva water bottle properly in her bag, it contained water blessed by the Man of God, which was to be administered at home.

She sensed that her life would experience a turn-around. She wished her husband and children came for the programme. On her way out of church, she was squeezed, pushed, got her foot stomped on but she made it out of the building - with her joy still. She looked to the skies, still heavy with dark clouds, heaving thunder and lightning in the distance. Darkness
was falling fast and it seemed the rains were coming again for part two. She panicked and hurried to the car park. On second thought, she was 'glad' the children were not here. It would have been stressful juggling 'extra cargo'.

She must find Mrs Nwachukwu if she wanted to make it home on time. After several minutes of navigating through the busy car park with severe noise pollution - Car horns, wailing parents and children calling out for each other, jamming doors, revving engines, screeching tires and more incessant car honks due to the slow traffic at the church gate - she finally found the only green Toyota Camry in the whole church, with its lights on, ready to go.

Her mouth widened in a grin, "Ope o." (Thank Goodness).

But as she approached the car, she saw that it was already full, she hoped against hope and knocked against the car window anyway.

"Eeya! Sorry o!" Shouted the plumpy Ibo womanas she wound down the window. "and I was just thinking that maybe you have joined another vehicle."

Mrs Adeoye flashed a small smile and mumbled an inaudible "It's alright."

"Ee ma binu o." (Don't be angry) said Mrs Nwachukwu in 'managed Yoruba' as she reversed and drove off.

Having lost her sure ride home, Mrs Adeoye looked round, "There must be someone else going my way," she thought. Her panic increased, cars now seemed to be fleeing the church premises by the second. The drizzling seemed to have increased - or maybe it was just her mind. Her eyes did a quick scan of the remaining vehicles left in the church premises, spotting the young, newly married Bayo opening the car door for his wife. He could drop her at a junction close to her house. Mrs carried her
middle-aged legs and ran like a girl screaming "Bro Bayo wait!"

Either because of the ambient noise or the fact that he couldn't wait to delay his new bride, (who looked like she was catching a cold or something) brother Bayo couldn't hear Mrs Adeoye's wailings and before she got to where
his car was, his backlights was well away in some distance.

"Jesus Christ." sighed Mrs Adeoye.

She looked at the skies again and analyzed if the rains would come down in forty minutes. She was going to have to trek this one. It would not be wise to board public transport now - cabs would be hard to find and bike men would charge her through the nose in this weather. But even if she wanted to, she could not board any of these because she had no money. She had used her last two hundred naira to sow seed at the revival. She had often heard of testimonies of people who gave their last card and got provided for.

"Oh God, why is my own different now?" she thought as she made her way outside the church gate.

* * *

All was well so far until Mrs Adeoye got to Pathfinder Street. She was even singing some new deliverance songs she heard at the revival before she turned into the street, even though she was soaked from the unrelenting drizzle, she was happy to be more than half way home without the rains coming down on her. But as soon as she turned into the street, her woes
started.

There was mud everywhere. Her third step was caught in soft, buttery silt, thoroughly smearing her only 'better leather shoe'. Her next step almost made her loose her balance, making
some items drop from her bag. She gripped her bag tightly.

"Thank God, the blessed water did not fall, the devil is a liar. " Mrs Adeoye thought.

She remained standing bandy-legged, contemplating where to put her leg next when a oncoming car honked, she managed to get out of the way, but not without receiving bountiful amounts of rich mud sprayed on her body. The shock and shame froze her irritability for a few moments. But when the driver waved his hand apologetically, her tongue loosened and she ranted away - about the driver's carelessness and her soiled gown.

"Look at my dress now," she said repeatedly even after the driver was now out of sight. As if expecting the driver to somehow turn back and stop to wash her clothes.

"God, you must bless us with a car o. Nitori gbogbo eleyi ti poju o." (because all this is just too much).

She then stooped to pick up her things fallen in the mud. In another twenty minutes of walking slow and steady, she made it home - alive.

* * *

Titi was tense, dreading the hours that was to come. She felt like a child who brought home bad result from school and was hoping to survive the impending onslaught. Bankole was browsing Facebook, uploading some nice picture he snapped in the afternoon.

Titi in a bid to distract herself, stared at what Bankole was doing. When she saw the footnote her older brother attached to the picture - 'Baby Banks Flexing.' She sneered at him and when she couldn't bear it anymore, she blurted out in a mocking laughter.

"You wey never chop night food, na flexin you dey write for your status. Shey dem dey flex with empty belle ni? Shio."

"Ori e o pe." (your head is not correct) came Bankole's sharp reply.

His sister burst into more laughter. Like as if it was not enough to be hungry, but he had to deal with his pest of a sister.

Suddenly, they both froze, someone was using the rain water collected outside - possibly to clean the legs and shoes. Mum was back! The children comported themselves. While Bankole thought of mummy coming to work magic to produce dinner, food was far from Titi's
thoughts. She exhaled deeply. She hoped mummy would just let her sleep...in peace.

Mrs Adeoye entered the poorly lit, sitting room, barely responding to "mummy welcome" said by the children. She threw her weight on the chair and said a quick prayer. Titi was dreading the moments that would follow after mummy opened her eyes. Once she did, she took out the Eva water bottle out her bag and seemingly with new zest, walked briskly to the kitchen. Titi tiptoed after her, like a P.A trailing her Boss, ready to be of service.

"Where's daddy?"

"In the room."

"What about Junior?"

"Sleeping."

Mrs Adeoye opened the biggest pot in the kitchen. Titi's heart almost failed.

"What? You didn't cook?"

"There is no kerosene ma." Titi replied in quick defense.

"Didn't you ask your father for money?"

"He said he had no money. He said we should wait for you to get back."

Mrs Adeoye sighed. This was not unusual but still that reason wasn't good enough for her.

"Didn't your sense tell you that it would be late before I got back from church?" She resumed fire on her daughter.

"What do you want me to do now?" Titi asked, looking disturbed. Her super-critic mum would not let her be.

"Couldn't you have gone to Iya Peace to get
kerosene on credit?"

"Wo, mummy I can't o." Titi grumbled.

"Wo obirin yi sha" (Look at this female) And why can't you? Have you seen it's not easy to put food on the table for all of you? You think it's all about forming 'sisi' abi? Mrs Adeoye said with a bit of spite. Titi growled inwardly, she has been pushed to the wall, she had hoped not to act rude tonight but seemed there was no choice. She said the next thing that came to her mouth.

"Ewo, mummy I can't jor. Abi kilode gan.

We are still owing her for the egusi we bought on Tuesday and you want me to go and ask her for another 'credit' again? If you are used to asking people for things on credit, I can't o."

She said with finality and stormed out the kitchen, past Bankole in the sitting room and straight to bed.

"Titi!" Mrs Adeoye called, but the young lady would not come back. She slumped on the kitchen stool, the Eva bottle water fell out of her hand and rolled away. She did not know what to do again. The members of the church were directed to drink up the blessed water after eating but it was no longer possible as there was no food in the house.

"When will all these suffering end?" She thought.

All the faith she thought she had gotten at the revival had bashed starting from the church premises until it was no more and God was in heaven watching.

She picked herself up and walked past Bankole who had stopped surfing. The realization of hunger had now weighed itself on him. He pulled a cover cloth over himself hoping sleep would make him oblivious to the pangs of hunger, but he could not even sleep after several hours, his churning stomach and mummy sad songs and cries to God for mercy kept him awake.

Maybe if mummy stopped with the noise, he
might find it easier to sleep. He tried to distract himself by listening to the unceasing drizzle beating a tattoo on the roof but it was not working. He couldn't bear it anymore and heard himself shouting.

"MAMA! I WANT TO SLEEP OOO!"

To be continued...