HOLY SEX Episode 30
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You wake up one day and discover that you have been living a life built on unquantifiable illusion— a long life built on deception. You look back at your life and wonder if you’ve been under a spell or something.
The first person you contact when you get back into Lagos is Zainab.
You are worried about meeting her. You are worried about calling her line. You worry about how she will behave when she realizes that the voice on the phone is yours. You wonder what she will say when you tell her that it is you on the line.
You don’t even bother about your parents. You know that by now they’d have forgotten about you, cried over your presumed death and buried an empty coffin.
When you find yourself standing in front of Zainab’s door, you can’t stop your hands from trembling as you knock on the metal door. There is a little girl by your side, holding your hand tightly, as if you’d leave her by the door and run away.
After knocking for some time, Zainab unlatches the door without asking who the intruder is. She rubs the back of her right palm on her eyes. When her eyes adjust to the light outside and she notices who is standing at the door, she screams loudly:
“Jesus!”
She bangs the door on your face. Your little girl begins to cry. You can feel Zainab’s back at the door, breathing heavily. You can hear her muttering some prayers, speaking in tongues.
Shoribababa Jesu! Shoribabababa Jesu!
You knock very hard on the door, “Open the door, Zainab. It is me. It is me, Blessing. I am not dead. I am alive!” you call. When after some time she doesn’t respond, you knock loudly again.
“You are dead!” Zainab calls from inside.
“I am not dead, Zainab! Dead people don’t talk, do they? And I know they don’t go walking around in the company of a little child. My baby is crying, Zainab!’
Zainab is confused. After a while she says; “Who is the child with you?”
“My child. Her name is Ara! Abeg open this door. Zainab I am tired of standing here.”
The door opens hesitantly. Zainab steps back and surveys you and the baby. You walk into the room, and she takes care to ensure your body doesn’t touch hers. When you turn and your eyes meet and she see the tears that escape your eyes and run down your cheek, she swoops you into her arms and hugs you so tight. Both of you stay like that for what seems like eternity. Ara is standing by your side, giggling. By the time both of you pry yourselves apart, Ara is already playing with the television remote control.
‘I can’t believe this,’ Zainab says. She offers you a seat. She hurries away to her small kitchen and returns with two glasses on a tray and a pack of some kind of orange drink. She pours the juice into two cups and offers you one. The smaller cup—a plastic cup, she gives to your baby who she has made to sit on the floor beside her. As Zainab talks to you, she studies the baby. You know that she is wondering who she looks like.
When she lifts her face, she says: “This baby is Pastor Samuel’s?”
You nod. Tears fall from your eyes.
Ara looks up and asks innocently: “Mummy. Why are you crying?”
You quickly wipe your eyes. “I am fine, baby. Now, drink your juice.”
“Where are you coming from? Where have you been, Blessing?”
“Lithuania.”
“Where is Lithuania, Blessing? What have you been doing in Lithuania?”
TO Be Continued
