THE EVANGELIST...PART 11

©Temi Akintade

It was the smooth sonorous voice singing 'Amazing grace' that woke me. My eyes gradually adjusted to the surroundings as the song filled my ears. I passed, confused when I saw Chinedu combing his hair in front of our cracked standing mirror. It was the only thing our mother had struggled to do for us when we were much younger. I remembered how the mirror got cracked. I was fighting with one of my cousins who coincidentally bumped my head on the mirror. And my mother had him beaten that day to the point that she cried when I bled from the mirror injury.

I blinked back the tears from falling. My mother was dead and gone cold in the grave and maybe, or she will be in heaven staring down at us or dining with God? I wasn't even sure of what she would be doing in heaven but I was more concerned about her body that had turned cold now in the grave… again, my mind drifted fully to the dream I just had. It looked real and I knew that it was God's way of telling me to go back to Kaduna or face the consequence that comes with it.

'That means if you don't forgive, your heavens will never be open and God will never hear you.'

Oyinye's last statement from the dream I just had rung in my mind like an alarm clock. What did she mean by that? Or did was God also indirectly telling me to forgive my father? There was no way I could do that. The man was never there for us especially my mother. He has always been a bad husband and a wicked father except of recent that my mother died.

Chinedu turned and our eyes met. He stopped combing his hair and took two steps towards me. "Stop thinking about mama. She is with Jesus Christ in heaven. We should ask God to take care of us instead."

I sighed and nodded. Truly, our mother was in heaven but I couldn't quite grasp that yet. Or maybe I didn't want to come to terms with her death. I rubbed my face for the umpteenth time, rose, and walked towards the window. I was befuddled by the sudden darkness that now clouded the whole town. Has it been long since I slept?

"How long did I sleep?"

"More than four hours." He resumed combing his hair again.

"Why are you combing your hair?" I glared at him. Irked that he had gotten over our mother's death pretty fast. "And why-" I bit back a retort because I felt a nudge in my spirit not to speak. Instead, I tried to buy into his happiness but I found out that I couldn't. It was difficult staying happy right now.

"That reminds me. Our father asked after you when you were asleep. I told him that you were sleeping because you cried yourself to sleep. He was concerned so much about you that he came to the room twice while you were sleeping."

I wished he was close to me so I could smack his head maybe against the mirror so that it would be broken but then who would nurse his head when he sustains an injury?

Let go…

It wasn't difficult hearing the voice of the Holy Spirit. Knowing what could happen to me if I disobeyed, I decided to let go instead. I ignored Chinedu and sauntered into the sitting room. I met our father sitting, legs apart, eyes transfixed on the TV screen where they were showing a fishery documentary.

For the first time in a long while, I noticed the frail-looking man seated on our signature red cushion. He looked thin and small too. Maybe it was because he was aging that was why he grew smaller? I couldn't tell because I was told that as people grow older, they shrink. I wasn't sure if that was particularly true because mummy Deborah our next-door neighbour, died at age 85 and she wasn't looking small.

I cleared my throat and sat on the cushion opposite him. I didn't look at him because I couldn't bring myself to do that. Already, trying to bring me to forgive him was a difficult task for me.

"How are you holding up?" He asked.

I glanced at him for the first time that evening. His eyes were sullen with grief. I simply mumbled a 'fine'. And kept mute.

"You know, I understand how it is. Losing one's mother is n-"

I was glad that the voice from the TV drowned his scrappy voice. I didn't want to hear him. What does he know about losing someone anyway? Just as I was celebrating my victory, the power supply was cut short and the light ceased. The TV turned off and my grief doubled. I was about to leave the sitting room when my father busted into fresh sobs.

"Nna'm. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I know I have not been the best father to you and a good husband to your mother when she was alive please forgive me." Tears rolled down his face. "It hurts me to see my first son angry with me. You are angry for a just cause. But I seek for one more chance."

"One more chance to do what? Pay our school fees as you have never done? Or insult us the way you have always done? How? I beg you to make me understand. I bear no grudge against you and I have forgiven you but I can never forget all these things. I was scarred by you and I can never forget."

He busted into fresh tears but I was determined not to say more.

"I gave my life to Jesus Christ just yesterday. I saw him Chuks. He spoke with me and forgave me. But I'm asking for your forgiveness. Your brother has already forgiven me."

I rose to my feet. "You see, the person who you need to beg for her forgiveness is the woman you have always neglected, the woman you constantly hit across the face, the woman you insulted frequently that is my mother. Maybe if she can hear you because I bear no grudge against you." I strolled off after that statement. I went into the room and began to pack for Kaduna. I wanted to stop by to see Dimeji buy there was no need because I felt it would somehow, prolong my journey to Kaduna.

Chinedu finished zipping the bag I was taking to Kaduna at about last 10 pm. I trying to study my Bible before going to bed that night when I stumbled on the scriptures in Matthew 18:21, 22
That spoke about when Peter asked Jesus Christ, how many times he is supposed to forgive his brother and Jesus told him seventy times seven.

I paused that moment and began to have a rethink. That means seventh times seven is four hundred and ninety and I wasn't even sure of the number of times my father has wronged me. It was then that I realized, that I have been a sinner even right from when I was born, I kept hurting God even when I knowingly slept with Ifunaya yet this God forgave me and never remembered my wrongs!

Tears trickled down my face. "Lord I'm so sorry. It's just that, my father has hurt me so much. He has hurt my dead mother and I can not seem to get past his cruelty. Please help me to forgive him just as you have always been forgiving me." I buried my head in tears. My brother patted me on the back while I cried. I cried for long until I mentioned that I had forgiven my father. That same night, I went to see his room had a long talk with him, and hugged him afterward. The following day, I returned to Kaduna.