THE STRANGE PROPOSAL
Part 13
©Franca Uwuigiaren
Before afternoon, my father-in-law sent my wife transport money as promised, and she told me excitedly, “Obiama, you need to help me pack our things. Papa sent enough money for us to come.”
“I’m not packing anything because you’re not going anywhere,” I told her.
“Really? Let’s see how it goes. Yes… I support my father visiting the shrine just because of your stubbornness. We shall see how you will not travel home with me. You will need to explain why you’re not the one sick. I have no business with the River goddess, yet I and my kids are suffering so much.”
I looked exasperated at my wife. I still find it hard to believe that she’s still interested in fetish things. If things didn’t happen this way, I wouldn’t have known that she hasn’t given up such practices.
“I’m no longer that Obiama that can be toured by the enemies. That Obiama is in the past. The Obiama you are looking at now is a new creature. My affairs are handled by Jesus. I will travel with you to the village if only your father’s priest can summon Jesus to his shrine. If not, he has failed.”
She looked at me and laughed.
“Just a few days you surrendered to Christ… only a few days you have started acting like a pastor… or General Overseer. You now carry Jesus on your head.”
“It’s Jesus or nothing else.” I stated.
“I won’t beg you, Obiama. You will just find yourself on the way to Rivers state. Indeed, you will hurry me to get ready. I trust my father, and I know what he can do.” She bragged.
“Really?”
“Bet it!”
I laughed hilariously.
“Me bet? God forbid! It’s too small a matter for God to handle. Just wait to see how both your father and the priest will be disgraced. Haven’t you heard that I am the apple of God’s eyes? That anything that touches me touches Him? When you put your hands in fire, what do you think happens? Or when you touch the tail of a snake, what happens? Some trust in horses and chariots but I Obiama trust in the name of the Lord.”
Oroma wasn’t deterred by what I was saying. She gave a long history of how the deity of their family fights difficult battles.
“Try not to take me to my parents, then you wait and see,” she said.
And so, Oroma was relaxed that the money she had been begging me for was sitting comfortably in her account. While she waited for me to be manipulated, I was busy praying.
Five days soon came and went, and I was still in Lagos. Her father called and told me that he knew I went somewhere to have a spiritual bath, that’s why my spirit refused to be summoned.
“You think you know powerful shrines? Don’t worry, I will so deal with you that your knees will go down, begging me for forgiveness. I know stronger priests and juju… I know how to deal with pompous fools like you. As far as I am concerned, you have held my daughter against her will. She’s sick and needs attention. A lot of rituals need to be performed to make her well… come with her and the kids, but you are frustrating me. You don’t know the family she’s from. You’re toying with us.” He threatened.
“Sir, I trust is in the Lord to defend and protect me. I didn’t go to any shrine to bathe. I know your anger, and I am not ready to give in to it. How do you expect me to bring my wife to the village to present her before one deity? There’s no way there. Jesus is the only way… I believe that Jesus will make her whole again.”
“Ahhh! How I wish I was in Lagos; there, I would have hit your mouth. My daughter is sick, and all you did is refused to bring her to be cured. Don’t worry!”
I listened to him ranting and cursing.
The following day, her mother threatened me. A few days later, my parents called me to ask what was going on between me and my in-laws, and I explained as briefly as I could.
“Her parents were here threatening us to go and bring their daughter to them. Please, Obiama, your wife’s family are wicked oo. They eat wickedness like rice and beans. They can do the unimaginable. If you don’t bring their daughter, they will harm you and put you in trouble.” Papa said.
“You remember the dream I told you the other time; it’s clear that they’re the one planning to kill you and not the goddess. Her father told us he sent transport to his daughter for your transport. Be wise and just go and drop her in her father’s house, then return. After all, you’re not the one consulting the deity. You won’t be present there, so there’s no need to partake.” Mama said.
“Anything that makes me take her home means I am a partaker. After all, I know what they want to do.”
Papa was angry.
“What’s wrong with you? Can’t I advise you, and you listen? Oroma is from a wicked family. Be wise!”
“Please, Obiama, don’t kill me before my time… take her back home. She’s sick and needs her parents…” Mama said.
“I’m taking her nowhere.” I told my parents.
“I won’t discuss this with you again. When the pressure comes, you will face it alone.” Papa threatened.
In the following days, the threats and curses became too much. If my in-laws weren’t calling to abuse me, my wife would. I wasn’t afraid or discouraged. Instead, I earnestly began to pray for my wife. I had entered the bedroom when I heard Oroma begging her father to instruct one or two of her siblings to come and carry her to the village.
“Nobody is coming to carry you. Your husband should bring you by himself to the village.”
“Papa, my husband is stubborn. He won’t bring me oo. He has made a firm decision not to bring me home. Maybe you should come by yourself and…”
“God Forbid! I will not come. When he brings your dead body home, then I will fight him to a standstill.”
Oroma began to wail.
“You’re waiting for me to die first… papa, you’re waiting for my corpse to be brought home first… then you deal with my husband. Now I am begging that you come and carry me, and you refused.”
“Your husband needs to be taught a lesson.” He said.
“I will not die, papa. You want me to die to punish my husband. Isn’t it?”
“It’s not so…”
“It is! You just said so. I am sending your money right away to you.” She said and cut the line.
I didn’t say anything. I was happy the way things were turning. My prayer has been that God should turn them against each other, and that’s exactly what is happening. As I dried my body, I watched her murmuring. She glanced at me but I concentrated on what I was doing. For a moment, she was busy with her phone.
“Hello, Mama, tell papa that I have refunded his money to him. Tell him that his prayer will not work. I will not die. I have transferred his money.”
“What’s happening? What’s going on? I’m in the market.”
“I know! Everywhere is noisy. Papa wants to use my death to punish my husband. His prayer is for me to die, then when my corpse is brought home, then my husband will be dealt with. What kind of father will say that? Please, I have transferred his money; tell him oo.”
Her mother tried to justify the reasons why her husband said so, but my wife refused to listen.
“God will shame you people. I’m going to get well…” Oroma told her mother with tears on her face.
I saw her cut the call, and she began to cry very loudly. I guess she was shaken. Well, I didn’t console her or concern myself with what transpired between her and her father.
That night, her father called me and said that I had succeeded in separating his daughter from him, and he threatened to deal seriously with me. He kept shouting and cursing. I just put it on speaker, then dropped the phone on the bed and stretched myself on the bed. Oroma heard everything her father said. The man must have known that I wasn’t ready to respond, so he cut the call.
I soon pushed that episode aside, for I have the confidence that no one in my family is going to die. There was this kind of confidence I have.
The money the pastor gave me had been exhausted on food, and I had nothing with me. My heart wasn’t faint. I continued my hustling to sustain my family, but it wasn’t working. I was being frustrated, yet I kept my hope alive.
I was growing gradually from the study of God’s word. I pray and intentionally build my relationship with the Holy Spirit. I came to understand that if one is not intentional about spiritual growth, one will perpetually remain in stagnancy and spiritual struggle. That’s not what I wanted. Every verse I read, I continually memorize it. I keep repeating it until it comes alive.
The more I pray, the more I see myself growing spiritually, and the more the devil rears his ugly head and roars. It was as if Oroma was the one the devil was using. She would not allow me peace. When she begins to feel pain, she would insult me and my family. She would tell me things that will make me cry in secret.
She called my parents and reported that I refused to take her to her family. My mother cried that day. She kept asking me if I wanted her to die first before taking her advice.
“I still had that dream that you were killed. Obiama, please… please, my son.” She cried.
“Why are you so worried?” I asked.
“Why won’t I be worried?”
“You shouldn’t be, because very soon, all these things happening in my family will be in the past, and mama, you have to genuinely give your life to Christ. Your parents are Christians… and entering into papa’s family should have been an opportunity to influence him to come to Christ, but you entered into the family, and how easy it was for you to join them in fetish practices. The family influenced you…”
My mother cut the call on me. Well, I wasn’t deterred. I kept praying for my wife. I made up my mind to keep praying for her. I know that the heart of every man is in God’s hand. I kept praying that God would steer her heart towards Him.
I was still connected with Pastor Moses, and he assured me that until I win my battle, he will keep praying for me. I was glad I have a support system. My little soldiers and kingdom resources were praying too. They give me the needed push.
Before I leave for home every day, they must insist we pray, even though we had had morning devotions. When I return sometimes with little or no money, they will encourage me. Since the foodstuffs finished, my wife lamented that she’s sick and she’s not eating well.
“Since you can no longer feed us well, please take me home,” she cried, but I ignored her.
I had returned from one of my unsuccessful hustling as usual when she started crying that she has been hungry. As usual, she started her lamentation. Then she remembered my previous offense against her and started talking about it again.
I was exhausted, and all through at work, I was telling God that I left my family in his hand, and my family must not even go to bed without food. I was under the sun, but I was only able to load two vehicles. The drivers would see me and wouldn’t want me to come close to their vehicles. Even if a driver agrees, people will pass the vehicle I am loading to another. I got home exhausted, and when I told my family I have only two hundred naira, Oroma flared up.
All I wanted to do at that moment was scream at her, but I held myself. I told myself to be calm and not allow the devil anymore opportunity in my family.
Oroma asked to be carried to the sitting room, and I carried her gently and placed her on the chair. I thought she just wanted to watch the television, but surprisingly, she told me that whatever I need to do to provide food that evening, I should do.
“All I see is a lazy man, making excuses for not taking care of his family. Every time you go out, you return with excuses. Obiama, I will not be sick and still be starved. God Forbid! If you have to rob a bank tonight, please do.” She said vehemently.
I looked speechlessly at her. Is this the Oroma I married? Trials have really brought out the worst in her. She has always been kind, compassionate, and understanding. What happened to her? She has changed drastically over the months. Well, I didn’t respond to her.
I saw my second son help Alabo to the sitting room. Surprisingly, he looked at his mother and spoke.
“Daddy is trying,” Alabo told her. “He bathes us, cooks for us. When we want to defecate or urinate, he carries us to the toilet; he washes our clothes and still goes to work to get small money. My daddy is trying. Every night, he prays for all of us. Mummy, every time you complain. Have you not noticed that daddy eats very little portion of food? He does it so that we can be satisfied. This morning, I read in the Bible where Jesus said that we should forgive seventy times seventy times, but mummy, you don’t forgive. All those things that happened between you and daddy, you still bring them up.”
I deliberately stood up and went to the bedroom. She might start again, accusing me of conniving with Alabo to insult her.
“God has forgiven daddy of all that you’re bringing up. You’re the one that has not forgiven him. Please try and be thanking daddy. Even if I didn’t eat anything before I sleep, I know my daddy tried, but the devil is just frustrating him.”
I was expecting my wife to shun the boy, surprisingly, I heard nothing from her. I sat on that bed, waiting for her to explode with her insulting words, but I heard nothing.
Surprised, I returned to the sitting room and found only her there. It was getting dark, so I decided that the little garri we had at home would have to suffice for the kids and my wife. I went to her and said,
“There’s a little garri at home, maybe about half a derica. I’ll put it in a plate, and the four of you can manage it.”
For a moment, she didn’t respond. When she did, she looked at me with teary eyes and said,
“Is that all Jesus can do? Is that all He can provide for this family? We had garri this morning, and you want us to have the same garri tonight? I thought you said we would start seeing the manifestation of God’s goodness in your life. Where is it? Show me! Obiama, I want to see it because I am still sick, my children are still sick and not going to school. You are the head of the family; you are the cause of the things happening in this family. Look at you; you can’t even feed us.”
For a moment, I stared at her speechlessly. I was angry in my spirit, and my heart was bleeding.
“If we eat the garri tonight, what about tomorrow?” she asked.
“You see this garri; it’s just an appetizer. The main meal is coming, and you will eat to your satisfaction. If you’re not seeing the goodness of God in this family, I am. I will look unto the hills from whence comes my help; my help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. Oroma, my God will surprise you.”
She began to laugh hilariously. I left her in the kitchen to pour the garri into the plate. I carried the plate, spoons, and water to the sitting room and called the kids to come and eat. Oroma looked at the garri and began to cry.
“I won’t eat this food until the main meal you said is coming.” She said.
“Mummy, eat; there’s no other food at home,” my second son said.
“I won’t eat. Your dad thinks Jesus will send food from heaven to us. He said this is an appetizer, and the main meal is coming. Well, I am waiting for the main meal. I won’t sleep until I eat the main meal.”
My kids stared at her for a moment before attacking the soaked garri.
To be continued…
