THE STRANGE PROPOSAL
Part 19
©Franca Uwuigiaren
School resumed today, and the children are so excited and glad to return. They missed their teachers and classmates. Dokubo has since washed their school bags in preparation. The children didn’t sleep well as they kept waking at intervals to check the time.
God did it in the lives of my boys; He perfected their health. They look so robust returning to school. God brought His word to pass in their lives. Were these kids not the same ones lying on the bed with no strength to walk and eat? God is indeed marvelous.
I took them to school, sorted out their books, and then returned home to take care of my Oroma. She looked so pale, but I refused to acknowledge it.
“Where would you want me to take you to on our wedding anniversary?” I asked her.
For a moment, she looked stunned because it wasn’t what she was expecting me to say.
“I…I… don’t know,” she finally said.
“Well, let me think…I will take you to a cinema…or do you have a better idea?”
Her face fell, and I knew why, but I wasn’t ready to hear it.
“Don’t worry, dear; we will go together, hand in hand, to the cinema. I see your miracle is here. On no reason should you entertain fear and doubt.”I told her, and she smiled.
“The ordinary eyes will see a boil-infested body, a smelling woman who will die at any moment, but my spiritual eyes see a woman who has gotten her healing and is looking beautiful, radiant, and healthy.”
She gripped my hands and squeezed.
“My dear Oroma, don’t let fear and doubt creep in and steal your joy. You have come so far, and God has been faithful every step of the way. God has already done a miracle in our boys’ lives, and He will do the same for you. Don’t focus on the boils, the pain, or the weakness. Focus on the Healer, the One who holds your life in His hands.
Faith is the courage to trust in God’s goodness and love despite what we see. And I know it’s hard; I know it’s easy to get caught up in the uncertainty and doubt. But I also know that God is bigger than any challenge we face. He is our rock, our refuge, and our savior. So let’s hold on to faith, dear one.
Let’s choose to trust in God’s plan, even when we don’t understand it. Let’s declare His promises over our lives and watch Him work wonders. You are a warrior, Oroma, and warriors don’t let fear dictate their path. They press on, they persevere, and they trust in the victory that is already won. And I am here with you, holding your hand, praying with you, and believing with you. Together, we will see God’s glory manifest in our lives, and we will testify to His goodness and love. So don’t let fear steal your joy, my love. Hold on to faith, and let’s see the miracle-working power of God in our lives.”
“I needed these words,” she said, kissing my hands.
Anyway, these and many more were words I usually told them. Every morning and night, I declared God’s word over her life. I was determined to enforce her victory as the head of the family. The children were not left out, as they encouraged her. They made her laugh and not stress her. Alabo always made it mandatory to ensure he gathered his siblings to pray for their mother. They would declare strength on her legs and demand that the boils dry up.
One morning, after the kids had gone to school, my wife told me she had a disturbing dream – that she was dragged by some mean-looking men to be slaughtered.
“In fact, they were boasting that at last, I have been captured. They placed my neck on a wood and were about to cut it when, from nowhere, military men came out. The evil men were arrested, and when asked who sent them to kill me, they refused to respond.”
I sighed deeply.
“Obiama, the military men dealt terribly with them until one confessed that he doesn’t know the name of the person who ordered him to kill me, but he knows the man’s house.”
My Oroma sighed deeply and paused for some time. I could see she was struggling not to cry.
“One of the military men raised me up and carried me on his back, and we followed the man who said he knows the house of the man who sent them to kill me. Lo and behold, he took them to my father’s house.”
My eyes widened in shock.
“Your father’s house?”
“Yes! In fact, it was like real life. Papa saw me and was shocked. I could see his annoyance at getting caught.”
“Do you know this woman here?” The one I perceived as the head asked Papa. Papa said yes, that I am his daughter.
“Why did you ask men to kill her? What’s her offence?” One military man asked him.
“Hmmm! He told them that I didn’t do anything, but my husband offended him.”
My two hands went on my head as I listened to my Oroma narrate her dream.
“He said he wanted to punish you by killing me. Then, when my corpse is brought to the village, he will set an ambush on you and ensure your death.”
“Ahhh!” I exclaimed.
“Accordingly to him, he has laid his plans.”
I sighed deeply again.
“The military men were angry. They began to surround my father, and one of them asked Papa a question. ‘Have you ever heard of the story of Haman and Mordecai?’ My father said he’s not a Christian and doesn’t know the story. The military man said, ‘Okay, let me summarize what happened to Haman. The gallows he prepared for Mordecai to be killed was the same gallow he died on. In other words, he fell into the trap he prepared for Mordecai. Today, you have fallen into that trap you prepared for your daughter. That pit you dug for her, you will go into it. That load you prepared for your son-in-law, you will carry it.”
The man who carried me asked me to go, and Papa was dragged and taken to where I don’t know.”
For a moment we were quiet.
“Did you pray to cancel the dream?” I asked.
“No! Let the weapons of the enemies turn against them,” she said defiantly.
“So shall it be. Let his weapon turn against him.”
That night, I was studying my Bible before I went to bed when I felt a strange presence, not of God. I stood up immediately, checked on my kids and wife, then I noticed that the wardrobe was opened, and things were being thrown on the ground.
“Holy Spirit, what’s happening?” I asked because I could feel someone was in the room.
Then my eyes opened, and I saw the legs only, with white beads tied round the ankles.
“I’m searching for the things I gave you. I want them back.” Her voice said.
“I don’t have any of your belongings, and you have no business here,” I said.
She laughed.
“Really? I have no business here? But you have my things with you. Since you refused my proposal, I need them back.”
“Whatever I received from you, it was a long time ago, and I was a kid. I misplaced them. Did you find any of them here?”
She didn’t respond. I saw the boxes were brought out, and the zips were opening, with clothes flying out of them.
“Where are my gifts?” She suddenly asked.
“Get out of my house!” I told her.
“As long as you have my things, I must collect them,” she said, hitting the door so loudly that my eardrum almost burst. I was angry as well.
“Get out, get out of my life; I command you in the name of Jesus, out of my house.”
She screamed in anger, and other parts of her body became visible.
“My gifts!” She screamed.
“Jesus! The blood of Jesus. You have no power over my life and family. Out of my house now, in the name of Jesus.”
She fell and started rolling on the floor.
“Stop! Stop calling that name! Oh, stop it,” she screamed. I began to shout the name of Jesus. She screamed so loudly and disappeared.
“Jesus!” I screamed so dazed. I want panting and had to calm myself.
“I know his name; I know his name. His name is King of Kings; I know his name. His name is the Man of War; I know his name.” I began singing until I bursted into tongues. I was already angry in my spirit. It was in my anger that I heard the stomping of the cats on the roof.
Oroma woke up too and saw me praying and joined in the prayer.
I went to meet her where she sat and held her hands; we prayed like never before.
The cats came to the window and began to cry like a baby, trying to distract us. According to Jeremiah 16:16-17, we asked God to release his hunters to hunt the cats and all enemies of our lives. It was the night; all my kids woke up to join in the prayers to stop the activities of the wicked power in our lives. After prayers, we sang for some time before I told the kids to go back to sleep. I didn’t want them to get tired or sleepy when they got to school.
Oroma didn’t go back to sleep immediately. I narrated my experience that prompted me to pray.
“Whatever gift she gave me, I don’t know where it is; she should go and look for them.”
We spoke with each other for a long time before we returned to bed.
In the morning, when Dokubo opened the door to go to school, he soon ran back into the house, calling everyone’s attention.
“A big cat is dead outside!” he announced.
I left what I was doing and joined them. Indeed, a big cat was dead outside. I told my kids to go to school while I disposed of the thing. I went inside and told Oroma.
“Jesus! The hunters have hunted it down. So how are you going to dispose it?”
“I will wait for the Aboki to carry it.”
I went round the apartment to ensure that it was just one cat. Then I was surprised too that it was only one cat because the activities of this one cat were more than two. Well, when the Aboki who comes to collect dirt came, he carried it.
I would have wished for it to be burnt, but there was no space to do so.
I and my wife took time to appreciate God for giving us victory over the witchcraft attack. Two days after, I had returned from the market when Oroma told me of the call she received from her mother.
“Papa is very sick, and mama is worried.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He woke up yesterday morning and couldn’t walk. According to mama, he was shouting, ‘They have broken my leg; they want to kill me.”
I sighed without saying anything further.
“I tried to reach him, but he refused to pick his calls. I asked mama to give him her phone so I could speak to him, but he still refused to speak to me.”
“It’s alright! I will call him later,” I told her.
The kids had not returned from school, so I rushed into the kitchen to prepare something for them. Later, I also got a call to come for an interview the following day. I was happy; everything was falling into pleasant places for me.
The night before I was to attend this interview, I dreamt that my CV was in a trash basket. Just as I picked it up, a woman snatched it from me and tore it into pieces. When I woke up, I cancelled the dream.
“Obiama, you are not going for that interview,” Oroma said after I told her the dream.
“Oroma, I am going for that interview.”
“Okay oo.”
As soon as it was dawn, I prepared food and the kids, took care of my wife, then set out for the interview. There were a lot of people who came for the oral interview. When it was my turn, I was interviewed by four people. There was no way I could read the expressions on their faces, but I know I did well.
I returned home with hope in my heart that I would be employed in that company.
As the days unfolded, I attended three more interviews and hoped that God would answer my prayers. There was no day I doubted God that he wouldn’t do it.
For my father-in-law, I had called him thrice, but he wouldn’t answer. It was my mother-in-law who eventually told me that my father-in-law was critically ill. She told me he was taken to the hospital but rejected, so Papa was home being treated in the traditional way.
When I brought out the issue of Papa to be discussed, Oroma told me that she spoke with her elder brother, who told her that Papa had been taken to the shrine.
Anyway, night was approaching; after ensuring that the kids had done their homework, eaten, and bathed, I gathered them for prayers. I was tired and wanted to sleep in time. I hugged them and carried my wife into the bedroom.
I wanted to bathe so I could sleep when Alabo knocked and came in. He sat on the chair, staring at me.
“What’s it? You don’t feel sleepy?” Oroma asked.
“I want to sleep, but I want to tell you something before I sleep.”
“Okay!” I said.
“I heard in my ears people talking…”
“Talking? How? What were they saying?” Oroma asked.
“Grandpa is somewhere sick. Someone is telling him to call Dad and apologize.”
“Okay!” She said.
“Dad, If you pick his call and he hears your voice, there’s going to be an exchange,”
“What kind of exchange?” Oroma asked alarm.
“I don’t know how to explain it. Something will be collected from Dad.”
“What he meant is that I will die in place of Papa.” I explained to Oroma.
“God forbid!” She shouted. “I reject it in Jesus’ name. Whosoever that wants to exchange the life of my husband for his…ah, fire of the holy fall and frustrate them in the name of Jesus.”
I thanked my son for the message, then told him to go and sleep. I joined my wife in the prayers.
Just like Alabo said it, I began to see calls from different numbers, but I refused to answer. At a time, my wife was called to give the phone to me, and as I collected the phone from her, I switched off her line. Two days later, when we put on the phone, my wife received a call that Papa had died. Oroma cried because it was her father.
I called my mother-in-law and other family members, consoling them over my father in-law’s death.
To be continued…
