My Sexcapedes Episode 28

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???? My Sexcapedes EPISODE TWENTY EIGHT: ❣️

Would the whole drama trigger Jude into asking questions? I mean questions pertaining how come his blood didn’t match with that of his children. Questions pertaining to the paternity of his children. Questions that would spur him into running paternity tests on his children.

Was my action very childish? Should I have let the sleeping dog lie? These were questions that tormented me every now and then.

Well, I just hoped that his illiteracy would continue doing the magic in our favour.

A date for our father’s burial has been fixed. The burial ceremony was not going to be an ordinary burial. The burial would be full of rituals because our father died as a traditionalist. He was an Ozo title holder.

Our father was a firm believer and practitioner of the traditional religion of the Igbo people. He never believed in Christianity. My father would tell you that Christianity was a western religion. He vowed never to abandon his ancestral religion to embrace another man’s religion. Although he gave everyone in his household the freedom to worship whatever you want. Literally, all of us in the household were Christians except him.

I was one person that was very close to him. I watched him pray every morning with kolanut. Most times, I do join him in the ritual.

Every morning, he would set his chair outdoors — at his spiritual exercise point. An old wooden chair. He was said to have inherited the chair from his father. In front of him stood a stool which on it was a wooden plate housing kola nuts, alligator pepper, hot drink etc. He performed this ritual during the sunrise in the morning. He would raise the kola nut up, as if he was offering it to the sun, though very close to his mouth. Then with apt attention to the sun, he would begin muttering prayers.

He would first start with greetings: ‘I greet you the most high, the creator of the whole universe. I thank you for life and protection.

I greet you angelic angels. I thank you also for life and protection.

I greet you, my guidance angel. I thank you for guiding me through the right paths for positivity.

I greet you, my ancestors.

I greet you the spirit living in this morning sunshine who I am standing before.

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I greet all the spirits living in this vicinity’, he would proceed mentioning the names of the spirits.

After mentioning the spirits, he would proceed by telling the spirits that he had come to take his own share of the day’s blessings. He would mention the day according to the market days in Igboland. After that, he would voice out all his needs. Whenever he was mentioning his needs, you need to see the strong belief he had that his needs would be granted. He doesn’t pray with greed. He prayed reasonably.

Then he would pray for Jude. He would ask his ancestors to bless his business. He would speak life into Jude’s business. He would call on the spirits to embarrass Jude with customers from all the four corners of the world.

He would pray for his own business too. He would remind his ancestors that he had never shed blood or bear false witness against his fellow man, for so doing, he would challenge them to hear his prayers.

He would end the prayers this way: ‘My ancestors, I have perceived the smell of my blessings and that of my household, please bring It down for us, it has boiled and I have perceived the sweet aroma, please give it to us..’

He would finally end the ritual by rounding the kola nut on his head four times before breaking it. Then, gently, he would throw the cotyledons on the ground, calling on his ancestors and other spirits to come and eat kola nuts.

There was nothing my mother did not do to convert my father into Christianity, but the old man stood firm in his belief even at his point of death.

The preparation for our father’s burial wasn’t an easy one. It was very hectic. I was the one running around while my brother, Jude, bore the financial weight. He was very much engaged with business and politics that period. Although he appeared whenever his present, as the first son, was necessary.

We finally gave our father a befitting burial. It was elaborate and pretty expensive. I must confess, Jude deployed his wealth to give a befitting burial to the man that planted the giant tree that gave birth to a man like him.

The burial ceremony was a much talked about event in the whole of the state and beyond.

Food and drinks were surplus. Bloods of cows watered the hungry soil as dry season was at its peak, likewise that of the goats. All the members of my father’s traditional fraternity went home with live goats, tubers of yam and live chicken. They were speechless that day because they got their rites in folds even beyond their expectations.

In fact, the burial ceremony lasted for a week. It was more of a carnival. Many dignitaries attended the event including the state governor himself and others of his cabinet.

The cows used for condolence were uncountable, talk less of goats and chickens. It was that very day that I came to know the caliber of a man Jude was. My respect for Jude had to increase enormously. Although it wasn’t my fault, after all, a prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household.

*****
Even after the whole thing, our marriage fruitless problem still stared at us in the face.

The trauma of childlessness in my marriage has clocked thirteen whole years now.

Age was slowly catching up on us while menopause was about knocking on the door of my wife.

Family, friends and well wishers had advised me to marry a second wife but I bluntly refused the idea.

We had visited different churches, especially the white garment ones on the verge of a miracle. We have visited many prayer grounds and mountains, praying for the fruit of the womb but it was as if God had closed our chapter. People have directed us to different Alfa for prayers. In fact, we had undergone several rituals in our long wait but nothing seemed to work. In all, we ended up being defrauded of our money. Some even made advances to sleep with my wife.

We had exhausted all possible options on a quest for a child. It seemed like our fate was to die childless.

One fateful Sunday, I was having a cool evening with my brother, Jude. We were whiling away time with bottles of beer in his hotel that evening while deliberating on a family issue. At some point, he brought up the topic of my childless marriage.

‘..how are you coping?’, he asked

‘Bro, it has not been easy. I mean the mockeries and the caricatures’, I replied.

‘You don’t have to give up hope. God is not asleep in your case. He will surely remember your marriage one day’, he encouraged me.

‘Bro, is like God has forsaken me. A marriage of thirteen good years and nothing to show yet. It’s as if people’s negative predictions were coming to pass in my marriage,’ I pause amid sober reflections. ‘I am just tired and confused about the whole thing’, I said amid tears.

‘Come on! You have to be strong. What you are facing in your marriage today is one of the phases of life. Be positive. I promise you that one day, God will turn to your chapter,’ he encouraged me.

‘Big bro, people are making mockeries of me. They are calling me names. Likewise my wife, they are making caricatures of her everywhere she goes’, I paused. ‘I must confess, I am tired of the whole thing,’ I complained bitterly.

Silent previewed. I was totally lost in thought, likewise Jude, my brother.

‘You don’t have to give up. God’s time is the best,’ my Jude broke the silent. ‘I will suggest you travel out with your wife. I have a Canadian family visa slot. It’s a government sponsored lottery visa. Though I wanted to use it with my family, but I can forfeit it for your sake. Go home and discuss it with your wife. Whatever you people decide, let me know…’ Judge concluded.

To Be Continued…

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