MY SPIRITUAL WIFE
EPISODE 27
.
As though they knew or have been “divinely inspired” to do what they did, I walked into an ambush.
I was disarmed the moment I stepped out of the toilet. These men seized my pipe before they bundled me back into the pastor’s office.
This was particularly surprising because I no understand, “deliverance na by force?”
.
By this time, the pastor had rounded up with his ministration and had long handed the anchor to someone else. He was praying intensely when they bundled me back into his office.
.
I felt as though I was drunk the moment I set my eyes on the pastor. There was something about this version of the pastor, which I didn’t encounter the first time. He was now more aggressive; absolutely unfriendly, and to make matters worse, he seemed to enjoy playing with “fire”.
This man made use of “Holy ghost Fire” a lot. His love and use of the word was one I thought alarming. I mean, if the fire was to have been limited, it would have definitely run out, courtesy of this pastor.
.
I suddenly had the urge to say something.
As much as I tried, I somehow couldn’t hold the words to myself any longer.
I was burning all over my body and the only way out of this, seemed like talking; begging, with the hope that this pastor would stop, having seen how remorseful I was.
.
“HE IS MY HUSBAND! WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO PUT ASUNDER IN WHAT HAS BEEN JOINED TOGETHER? WHY ARE YOU DOING CONTRARY TO WHAT YOU CONSTANTLY PREACH, PASTOR? DOESN’T THAT MAKE YOU A HYPOCRITE?” I found myself screaming at the pastor.
.
“But I am male and certainly not Gay. I mean, everyone knows how much I love women na! How could I possibly be my own husband?” I thought to myself, momentarily.
Before I could have any time to process what was going on, my mouth was wide open again, giving details in response to a question the pastor had just asked.
.
“He is my husband. We were joined together by the Queen mother. The occasion was attended by people that mattered in our world. With him, my future is secured. With him, our generation is assured to rule forever. He is the smartest man I know. He is the only man that suits my preference of a spouse. We were divorced only to be reunited recently. HOW DARE YOU TRY TO TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME AGAIN?” I asked, suddenly furious and almost getting physical with the pastor.
.
I went on and on, talking. Then, when the pastor seemed to have heard more than enough, he opened his mouth to say something I didn’t want to hear.
“FROM THIS MOMENT ON, I FORBID YOU TO PITCH YOUR TENT IN THIS VESSEL. THIS BODY IS OF THE LORD AND YOU HAVE NO DWELLING IN HERE.”
.
The entire office went into an uproar, in prayers, as I somehow began to manifest in different ways.
That pastor literally bathed me with a bucket of water he dubbed “holy” and forced down my throat bottles of liquid (oil) he dubbed “anointed”.
.
I woke up weak (seeming to have been “out” for a very long time) to “worship songs”.
.
I faintly heard the pastor mutter words.
I heard “thank you lord for this deliverance”.
.
Apparently, I’d been delivered of an “evil spirit”; an evil spirit I never knew I’d been possessed by.
.
I began to have a mixed feeling about this whole “deliverance” after the counsel the pastor gave me, just before he reached for my hands and said, “let us pray”.
The pastor warned me to stay away from women (very difficult something😏). He said though I’d been delivered, I still had the tendency to fall right back into the trap of the evil ones, if I became apathetic. He said I must never have anything to do with either Janet or Jasmine going forward. He said though I was currently under the protection of the “holy ghost”, how long I stayed under this protection strongly depended on my choice of lifestyle going forward.
The pastor went on and on in counsel before he finally asked that we bowed our heads for prayers.
.
Sam and I went home without even as much as speaking a word to each other about what had happened. I knew he had a million and one questions running through his mind, but for some reason, he thought them awkward and didn’t dare ask. On the other hand, I was glad he didn’t bring it up too, because I was not in the mood to talk about it either.
.
Janet and Jasmine kept blowing my phone up with calls and text messages. I blocked them off when I couldn’t take these texts and calls any more.
I even resolved that I was not going to take calls from numbers I didn’t already have saved on my phone or anyone I’d thought strange, anymore.
I tried to avoid taking any route I could bump into either Jasmine or Janet.
.
It was not easy, but I eventually got rid of both girls even though I sometimes missed what we had.
.
I tried as best as I could to turn a new leaf. I frequent church and even go for midweek services.
When I saw a fine girl, I quickly lowered my gaze. It was not easy, but to God be the glory.
.
A couple of years had passed. I was in my final year and already counting down to my final paper. I’d just come out from a tutorial when the sight of my “nemesis” almost got me stumbling.
I almost bumped into jasmine.
.
At the time, Jasmine had long graduated, so you can imagine my surprise to have seen her.
“What is she doing at school?” I wondered. “And how in heaven’s name was she allowed in, dressed like that?”
Jasmine was looking as ravishing as ever in her white tank top and a very hot, black, mind provoking, very well short leather skirt.
She was standing beside her car.
It took all the restraints in me to have turned the other cheek at this sight.
.
I thought about Jasmine all through that night. I no longer had her contact. I had absolutely no means of getting it even if I’d wanted to and I had never been gladder.
If I’d had a means of getting Jasmine’s phone number, I doubt if I could have been strong enough to resist the urge to call; to take it from there.
.
I finally graduated from the university and the buildup to camp was exciting on a different level. I couldn’t wait to put on that “brown khaki”.
That day finally came; I got mobilized and deployed to Akwa Ibom, for my “National Youth Service” program.
.
I’ve heard a lot of beautiful stories about people from this part of the country. Their reputation definitely precede them. Their food, culture and, most especially, their beautiful women are to die for.
.
I’ve heard that they have them here, just the way I love my girls and I can’t wait to confirm all of these.
To be continued…
.
Moshood Avidiime
