Complicated episode 21


Episode 21

Meanwhile, Farouk lay in his hospital bed, his condition deteriorating as his heart grew weaker, but his mother clung to her faith, hoping for a miracle. Titilope decided to inform Ore about the situation. After several unsuccessful attempts to reach her by phone, she sent a message: “Farouk is in the hospital; these are likely his final hours. He has been battling a rare disease for the past two years. I thought you should know in case you want to say your last goodbyes.” She included the hospital address in her message.

By the time Ore arrived at the church, Chief Akinola like the others was unconscious. They were all moved inside the church where the pastor, his wife, and some church members began to pray for them. They prayed throughout the night, but their condition was not changed. By morning, having had no opportunity to check her phone earlier, Ore saw the message from Titilope. Shocked by its contents, she quickly rushed to the hospital.

That night, Farouk’s mother and sister stayed awake, praying tirelessly for his healing. The doctors had predicted he might not make it through the night, but it was morning now, and he was still alive—weak, but still breathing.

When Ore arrived at his ward in the early hours, Titilope greeted her. “Ore, you came?” she observed Ore’s exhausted appearance. “Is everything okay? You don’t look good.”

“I’m sorry, I just read your message. My family is going through a major crisis, but I had to come as soon as I read this. I didn’t know he was sick; I had no idea,” Ore replied, her voice thick with concern.

“He went to Dubai, his favourite place in the world, just to enjoy a few days of the good life, and then he met you. He often wanted to find you, but knowing he couldn’t have a future with you, he eventually stopped trying,” Titilope explained.

“How is he?” Ore asked, looking at Farouk on the bed. He appeared peaceful as if merely sleeping, but she could tell that his heartbeat had slowed significantly.

“Can I?” Ore asked, gesturing towards the seat by Farouk’s bedside.

“Yes, this is my mum,” Titilope introduced, “Mum, this is Ore.” They exchanged brief greetings, and then Farouk’s mother stood up, allowing Ore to take the vacant seat next to him. Ore looked at Farouk, recalling their time in Dubai. He was the only person who had seen past her appearance and valued her for who she was.

She began to speak to him quietly. “I’m sorry, Farouk, for lying to you about the baby. Things are just so complicated with me right now. Something sinister is happening in my family, and this child that we both created is a miracle. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I want you to fight. Fight for yourself, and fight for our unborn child—he needs you. We both need you. Your family needs you, so you can’t give up now.”

As she continued to talk, Farouk could hear her. Initially, when he was brought to the hospital, he could hear the conversations around him—he could hear his mother and sister praying. But after a while, their voices started to fade away. However, now, as Ore spoke to him, her voice seemed to draw closer. When he heard her mention their son, something stirred within him, sparking a renewed will to live. He began to pray silently, asking God to give him another chance to be there to raise his son.

Ore transitioned from speaking to Farouk to declaring prophetic words over him. This continued for a while until her phone rang; it was a call from the church. She picked up after concluding her prayers.

“You need to come now, Ore,” Ade, her brother, urged on the other end.

“I’m on my way,” she responded.

She kissed Farouk on the cheek and informed his family that she needed to leave. “My family needs me, and I must go. Please call me if anything happens.”

“Okay, I will,” Titilope replied. As Ore moved towards the door, Titilope stopped her. “Here, he wanted you to have this.” Titilope handed her a letter, which Ore took and placed in her bag.

Arriving at the church, Ore was met with the tragic news that her father, Chief Akinola, and Chief Ayegbajeje had passed away. She instructed Ope to take them to the mortuary. It pained her that they had died; she had hoped they would find deliverance and salvation.

Adetola and Darasimi remained unconscious. The pastor spoke with Ore, “You should at least be relieved that the deaths of both men have broken the hold the fraternity had on your family. But they are not giving up without a fight. The prayer warriors will continue to pray. I suggest you go and rest; we have another prayer session soon, and a more senior pastor, a friend of mine, is joining us. My wife will take you to our home. For now, no one is to step foot in your homes until we have had the chance to pray over them.”

“Thank you, Pastor, for everything.”

“All thanks be to God. However, you have a decision to make. When this is all over, will you stay with Adetola, or will you move on with your life?”

“That is a decision I can’t process right now. The father of my child is in the hospital suffering from a rare disease and is in his last moments, so I really can’t think about anything else right now.”

“I trust the Lord will continue to guide you and cause His light to illuminate your path. As for the young man in the hospital, the Lord’s will be done.”

Rufus grumbled until the moment he arrived at the hospital. The Holy Spirit had instructed him to go to a specific hospital where a woman had been praying nonstop for God to heal her son; he was to go there and pray for her son.

Rufus was frustrated with God because He had not healed his daughter. For three years, his daughter had been paralyzed, and as a healing minister, everyone expected him to pray for her, but the girl had remained paralyzed. This failure made Rufus angry with God, and since then, he had lost his healing powers. He believed that because he couldn’t heal his own daughter, he had failed, so he stopped praying for others. But for days now, the Holy Spirit had been directing him to a certain address, which he stubbornly refused.

Until the Holy Spirit compelled him out of his house. Now at the hospital, he approached the nurses and explained that he was a healing minister and would like to pray for some of their patients. The nurse he spoke to looked at him skeptically and started calling him all sorts of names. Rufus was so angered that he just walked out of the hospital.

“Well, I tried my best, Holy Spirit; you can’t blame me. I’m going home,” he muttered as he walked away from the hospital, feeling defeated and disheartened by the hostile reception.

Thanks for reading,

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