THE STRANGE PROPOSAL
Part 22
©Franca Uwuigiaren
It was on Saturday, one of those busy days. I woke up very early to wash the dirty clothes before thinking about what to prepare for breakfast. I could hear Boma and my wife talking in the bedroom about school work. As usual, he was busy bombarding his mother with questions.
I heard my phone ringing, and Dokubo ran to the kitchen to give me the phone. I looked at the caller; it was grandma. I was surprised because I had spoken with her the night before going to bed.
“Hello, grandma…”
“Obiama ooo. Help me thank this God who has shown me mercy.” She said.
“What’s the good news, grandma?” I asked, excitement too.
“Obiama…I…I went to bed last night after we spoke, and you won’t believe what happened. Ahh! Obiama, thank God for me. This God really loves me oo.”
“Grandma, talk na…I don’t know how to guess oo. I’m just excited…too excited.”
“My grandson, I slept blind and woke up seeing. God has restored my sight.”
“Oh Jesus!” I shouted excitedly.
Grandma began to sing, and I could hear my parents in the background singing with her.
“Come and join me singing hallelujah; Jehovah jireh has done me well.
Come and join me sing hallelujah; Jehovah jireh has done me well.
I joined grandma to sing the song, and I danced too. My kids saw me dancing and began to laugh at my dance steps.
“Daddy, when will you learn to dance?” Alabo asked, laughing.
“I can even dance more than dad,” Boma said to his brother’s laughing.
I was still on the call, so I kept dancing and smiling at my kids’ teasing. I prayed for grandma, and then encouraged her to be strong in the Lord.
“Grandma, I want you to know that things may not be all rosy because you’re now in Christ. The devil will fight you, but you need to stand your ground and be grounded in God’s word.”
Throughout the day, I was so excited and full of gratitude to God. As if that wasn’t enough testimony, Pastor Moses called me; a member of the church who had been married for twenty-two years without a child had delivered a set of triplets. I had to leave home for the hospital because he wanted me to join him there.
The father of the triplets was in tears even before I got to the hospital.
“Twenty-two years, my brother,” he kept saying. “We tried everything, spent money, and nothing worked until we decided to hold unto God. He didn’t fail us oo” he cried.
Pastor prayed for the family, and I even gave the mother the little change in my hand, tapping into their blessings.
In the car, Pastor Moses told me how God had been working in favour of his members.
“And I know very soon, you will share your own testimony.”
“Amen, Amen, Amen!” I chorused.
“God has not changed or failed. 1 Corinthians 2:9 says, ‘But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.’
“Brother Obiama, God has prepared amazing things for those who love Him, things that are beyond our human comprehension. Our eyes have not seen, our ears have not heard, and our minds have not conceived of the great things God has in store for us.”
I nodded my head, paying rapt attention.
“God’s plans and ways are higher and greater than ours, and He has a wonderful future ahead for those who trust and love Him. Keep trusting Him. He has beautiful plans for you.”
I thanked him for the words of encouragement, and then he drove to the nearest bus stop, and I alighted and took a bike home.
Oroma was playing Chess with Alabo, when I got home. She was so excited to see me.
“See the way my beautiful wife is blushing,” I teased.
She laughed. She instructed Alabo to take the Chess to the sitting room and play with his siblings.
“So how is mother and children?” She asked.
“They’re fine. Cute babies oo.”
“I tap into their blessings,” she said.
“You want more children?” I asked, teasing her.
She laughed and said she’s satisfied with the three God has blessed her with.
For the rest of the week, Oroma was so happy and relaxed. In the day, she would devote most of her time to singing or listening to worship songs. In the night, after we had prayed, she would listen to the preaching of great men of God like Parish Priest, Pastor Christian Ebhoma, Pastor Moses Abiola, Pastor David Oni, Pastor Adon Fashogbon, Pastor Kim Shepherd, and Pastor Sola Akintunde. These are men of great fire, who, when they preach and pray, would ignite a burning passion in her heart.
As their words pierce her soul, she would burst into fervent prayers, her spirit stirred, and her faith renewed. The power of their messages would resonate deep within her, fueling her desire for a deeper relationship with God and a hunger to serve Him with greater purpose and passion. And as she listens, she would be transformed, her heart set ablaze with a fire that would burn brighter with each passing day.
She would wrestle with God like Jacob did.
“I won’t let you go until you settle me.” She would cry out, refusing to release her grip.
During one of her prayers, she said, “Obiama, a man just used a white handkerchief to wipe my face.”
“Wow! Your joy has come. Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” I told her.
“This is my morning, Obiama, and my joy has come. Hallelujah!”
I was happy. Oroma has grown so much in faith; her spirit is so active and sensitive. I felt that her miracle was imminent, that the heavens were about to unleash a blessing upon her. Her trust and devotion had created an atmosphere ripe for God’s intervention, and I was confident that a breakthrough was just around the corner.
Christmas soon came and went. I didn’t celebrate it the way other neighbours did. I just explained to my kids that there was no enough money to take them out. I had no money to kill even a fish.
That morning, I made eba, and we ate it with vegetable soup cooked with crayfish. We were grateful to God that there was something to eat.
On the thirty-first of December, I left my kids home and went to church that night. It was the last day of the year. I had money that would cover for transport, and offering, and it wasn’t up to eight hundred naira. Where I stood at the bus stop, waiting for a vehicle, a man walked up to me and said, “Please, sir, help me with whatever you have. My wife has been in the hospital for a month, buying drugs and feeding has become a challenge. I have been begging just to get money to pay… paying her bills has been a big problem.”
When I looked at him, he was so complete, well-dressed, and didn’t look like one lacking anything.
“I didn’t want to trek to church, but I found myself dipping my hand in my pocket and gave him all the money I had. He thanked me and prayed for me. The prayers he released brought tears to my eyes, even as I kept saying Amen. I even thanked him for the prayers, then trekked to church.
Cross-over night was a wonderful one. Church was filled up and the air was ecstatic. The praises and worship were hot.
Funny enough, one of my wife’s favourite preachers was invited to minister at the cross-over and I wished she was in church with me.
So many prophetic declarations were released, and I claimed all of them with my loud shout of Amen. By twelve, everyone was shouting HAPPY NEW YEAR and excited. Some didn’t even wait for service to end before they ran out of the church. There were some who amidst the noise were making calls wishing their friends and loved ones HAPPY NEW YEAR.
By the time church closed, the pastor called me aside and handed me a brown envelope.
“Someone in this church who prefers to remain anonymous wants me to give you this.”
“Wow!” I said, scanning the church with my eyes to see if there’s anyone I know who could have done this.
“Forget it, brother Obiama. The person has gone the moment church closed. And my family has something for you too,” he said.
I followed him to his car; he opened his booth and gave me half a bag of rice with other things tied inside. Then he handed me an envelope.
“This new year will be better for you and your family.” He said.
“Amen!”
“God is taking you to a level you have never been before.”
“Amen!”
“I see victory for you and your family. Let the gates of hell quake because of you.”
I was so happy as I carried my rice and started the journey home. I tried to reach Oroma, but she wasn’t answering her phone. When I saw a bike, I boarded one.
The moment I got to the compound, I noticed my door was open. My heart gave a loud thud. What’s happening here? Why’s the door open? I entered the house slowly, dropped the bag, rushed to check on my wife and kids. They were sleeping soundly. I sighed deeply. I returned to the sitting room, locked the door, still wondering why the door was open and who opened it, when suddenly, like a flash, I saw a hand and a hammer hit my television.
“Jesus!” I shouted as the glasses shattered.
I felt a force raise me up and hit me on the floor. Then I saw her. All the snakes moving on her head, charging towards me angrily.
“Jesus! Jesus!” I screamed.
And before she got to me, she screamed and disappeared. I was breathing hard on the floor. Tears were already coming out of my eyes.
It was then I noticed Oroma, my Oroma, crying. She was in pain. I struggled to stand up. I went into the bedroom and met her rolling on the bed. Wasn’t she sleeping peacefully when I checked on her?
She was in agony. Some of the boils were open and bringing out pox.
“It’s as if thousands of needles are pricking me. Help me to stand. I just want to stand.” She cried.
I tried to raise her, but she screamed. There was no life in her legs, and she couldn’t stand. My kids were all awake, and Boma started crying too, but Dokubo and Alabo were not discouraged. They began to pray instead.
I gave Oroma some pain reliever, but it didn’t work. I sat on the bed and listened to her cry. At a time, I didn’t know what she was saying again. Her cries almost broke my heart.
I entered my children’s room and locked the door. Just as I sat on the bed, I began to hear voices laughing. It was so terrible. The voices were mocking me and my wife.
“She is dying. Oroma is dying. Hahahahaha!” Your precious gift is about to be taken away from you. Why don’t you say yes to my proposal…I have never been refused before. Why you? Say yes, Obiama. It’s just a simple and harmless yes. Yes will solve all these. I will give you what you have never imagined. Or else I will make your life miserable and unbearable.”
The different voices said.
“Say yes, Obiama. A simple yes”
“Yes is a harmless word…three letters.”
Then I noticed her…them, for she duplicated herself. She was standing near the window, another of herself by the door, and the other one beside me on the bed.
“Your wife is about to be killed,” the one at the window said.
“You will be without her…Your children will be motherless.” The one on the bed chipped in.
“One yes is okay! Then I will remove sickness from your wife and bless you…and give you gifts beyond your imagination.”
The three of them said at the same time.
“You will have cars…”
“Houses!”
“Money”
“You will have a voice…your voice will be heard very loud in your church, your family, and anywhere you go. You will be a force to reckon with.” The three voices said at the same time.
As the three spoke, the pictures they painted began to flash in my eyes. But then I remembered in Ecclesiastes 1:2, that says, “Vanity upon vanity, all is vanity.”
Solomon highlighted the futility of human endeavours and the impermanence of earthly pursuits. Which means that no matter how hard we work or how much we achieve, it’s all just a bunch of empty, meaningless efforts that will eventually fade away.
“Look at me!” The one standing at the door said.
I refused to look at any of them. Mark 8:36 was impressed in my heart. It says, “What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world but loses his soul?”
Then I thought, if a person were to gain everything the world has to offer – wealth, power, fame, and more – but loses their soul in the process, what would be the point of it all? What would be the benefit or profit of having everything, but losing one’s very essence, one’s relationship with God, and one’s eternal destiny?
“Jesus, may I not be caught up in the pursuit of earthly success at the expense of my spiritual well-being.” I said in my heart.
The other two began to move slowly towards me, talking at the same time, asking me to accept her proposal, and I began to experience heaviness on my head. Immediately I rebuked her in the name of Jesus Christ. Screaming terribly, they disappeared.
I regained myself, I stretched on the bed. I tried to block Oroma’s cries from my heart. Then Isaiah 43 was impressed upon me. I went to the sitting room, carried my bible, then joined my family in the bedroom. I opened Isaiah 43 and read verse two and three, which says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Oroma, these are God’s promises to you. I know the pains you’re going through are overwhelming, and it feels like the struggles are too much to bear. But God is promising to be with you every step of the way. He will be your rock, your refuge, and your strength in the midst of the storm. He’s promising to protect you from the raging rivers of life and to shield you from the fiery trials that threaten to consume you. He’s promising to walk with you through the dark valleys and to lead you into the green pastures of peace and prosperity. I want you to remember that God’s promises are not just empty words; they are living truths that have the power to transform your life. Hold on to them, dear one, and trust that He will see you through this difficult time.”
One after the other, we prayed for her. It was almost 6 a.m. before we returned to bed. Only when Oroma’s body was calm did we go to sleep. Then it was already almost 6 a.m.
To be continued…
