A reckless driver I had been avoiding some minutes ago interrupted. He finally brushed my car. I stopped; came down and was ready to complete the typical Lagos road scenerio with my fury masked all over me.
This commercial bus driver was already lying flat on the floor spewing some Yoruba plea- ‘E jo, ma binu’. Other drivers whose cars were now on standstill honked, some alighted and rushed up to me, pacifying me and shunning the bus driver- “That’s how you people keep causing nuisance on the road” one of the pacifiers rebuked. “You will stop to carry passengers without parking well. Knowing full well that you don’t have a side mirror, Una go just dey speed dey go. Haba!”
I looked at the driver’s bus and truly, he had no rear view mirror.
Still prostrated, the driver continued pleading: oga abeg beat me, kick me, do me anything wey you wan do me, ejoo. If you carry me up throw me for ground, I no get one naira. Ma binu, oga. I go dey careful next time, abeg.”
My racing heart struggled to struggled to calm the rush of adrenaline in my system. After some moments of plea, I entered my car and released the queue.
Now in the car, the air was tensed, it stifled the continuance of the conversation; so silence prevailed.
“Can you imagine? I threw a glance at her. “No side mirror, I don’t even know if he drives with a key or some wire. Yet he was racing like a he-goat” I hissed.
“He is just lucky, ‘eziokwu’. What I would have done to him today, ehn, in his entire life, he will learn to avoid private cars with that death trap he calls a bus. Nonsense.”
The pregnant woman seemed oblivious of how or what to say in response and just stared blankly.
We arrived under the bridge and drove some minutes further to park in a nearby filling station.
“Sorry about that, Sister. Don’t mind that stupid man.” The constant flow of insult seemed like a compensation for repressing my initial intended actions.
“You were saying Pastor Edwin said what?” I rekindled the flow.
“Yes,” she continued “he said that God showed him that somebody who is jealousing me sent arrow to my private part so that I will not deliver my baby safely.”
“So, he now asked me where I use to urinate in the market and I told him that it is the market toilet where we pay fifty naira to urinate.”
Her young and timid expression was pitiful she has to be at most, 20 years old. The details she was giving were trivial I longed for the main gist.
“So?” I hastened her.
“So, he said that the person sent it when I used the toilet. He then said that he will do deliverance for me and everything will be fine.”
“He told me to remove my pant, raise my hand and close my eyes.”
“For the deliverance?”
“Yes. He started singing worship song and start to call prayer point for me to pray. As I was praying, he pressed my bumbum. I now stop, now look back because no pastor have prayed for me like that before.”
“Mhm?” I gave a knowing smile.
“He pressed my bumbum and said that I should continue praying that if I stop when he did not ask me to stop, the angels that are coming down will go back up to heaven.”
I withheld the laughter bubbling in my cheeks to elicit genuine information from her.
“I continued praying and from pressing my bumbum, he now put his hand under my skirt and start to touch my front.”
“Did he put his hand inside the front?” I asked.
“Don’t worry, continue.”
“So, after some time, he said that the hour has come for him to table the main matter before the Lord, that there will be vengeance.”
“He took me to the bed and tell me to lie down. He was holding anointing oil and said that he will put it inside my private part and the arrow will go back to the sender and nothing will happen to my baby.”
I was carried away by the gist of Pastor Edwin’s mischief that I forgot to ask this lady what the problem was in the first place.
“He asked me if I believe God can deliver me and I said yes. So, he said that the matter is very delicate that he has to use a sacred tool to put the oil inside me.”
“Mhm?” I glared “what tool?”
“He said that he will use his thing to put the oil but that I should not be afraid because it is a spiritual work and nothing more. At first, my mind do me somehow but I now say that since he is a man of God, he knows best.”
“So, he now said that I should raise my skirt and open my legs. He now remove his belt and put the oil on his thing. Then, he drew me close to the edge of the bed and tell me to close my eyes and be saying ‘deliver me o lord, deliver me o lord’. So, I close my eyes and be saying ‘deliver me o lord’. He now start to put the oil inside me”.
“You mean he put his penis inside you?
“No,” she corrected “he use his thing to put the oil inside me.”
As a smart guy, I already knew the oil was a lubricant but I listened on.
“So, as he was putting it and I was saying ‘deliver me o lord’, he was saying ‘yes, yes, it’s moving.”
“What is moving?”
“I don’t know” she caught the sarcasm in my question and kept quiet.
I sighed “Okay, did he stop to put more oil on his thing to put more inside you?
“No, it’s only that one he put the first time that he continued putting.
“So, how did the deliverance end?” I inquired.
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