So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep, and while he slept, He took one of the man’s ribs and closed up the area with flesh.

Genesis 2:21

Daniel moved the centre table aside and replaced it with a large mat. He pushed the chairs against the wall, then placed a flower vase at the centre of the mat.

He stood back and looked around the room.

“What else?”

He disappeared into the store and returned with a Ludo board and a Whot game, arranging them neatly around the flower vase.

Then he headed into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, the aroma of freshly fried prawn crackers filled the room.

Daniel danced from left to right as he transferred the crackers from the hot oil into a sieve, completely lost in his own little world.

Lara stood at the kitchen door, smiling.

Her mother joined her a moment later. She was about to walk into the kitchen and interrupt Daniel’s dance, but Lara quickly pulled her back.

“Wait. Let’s watch him.”

They stood there quietly.

Daniel turned to grab the hand towel and froze when he saw the two women staring at him.

He was startled.

“Good evening, ma.”

Lara’s mother burst out laughing.

“Good evening. You dance well.”

Daniel said nothing. He simply looked at Lara, his eyes pleading with her to rescue him.

Lara smiled innocently.

“Your people left only you to plan the hangout?”

“They all have different things to attend to,” Daniel explained. “And since I’m the only one fully available, I might as well help out.”

“That’s good. Well done.”

She picked up a glass of water, took a drink, and left the kitchen, leaving Lara and Daniel alone.

Daniel watched her disappear.

Then he turned to Lara.

“You couldn’t tell me your mum was there?”

Lara laughed. “It was nice watching you dance.”

“Ahhh…”

“Do you need help with anything?”

“You are the one we are celebrating. Go and rest. We’ll call you when it’s time.”

“Oya na.”

Lara moved towards the tray of prawn crackers and reached for one.

Daniel quickly blocked her hand.

“No, no, no.”

But Lara was faster. She grabbed one, laughed, and ran out of the kitchen.

Daniel shook his head.

“Children of nowadays…”

Then he remembered something.

Andrew.

He still had to call Andrew and settle their differences.

He went into the room, picked up his phone, and dialled Andrew’s number.

Someone else answered.

“Dan-dan!”

Daniel recognised the voice immediately.

“Hello, Feyi. How are you?”

“I was fine until you called.”

“As how na?”

“You’re interrupting my date with my man.”

Daniel paused.

How had these two gone from fighting to sounding this excited?

Well, at least it was for the good.

“All the best for you and yours,” he said. “Hope you people are looking at the time. We are expecting you o.”

Feyi immediately became dramatic.

“Babe, Daniel said we should come and spend time with single people. Do we really have to go?”

Andrew smiled.

“Babe na, say something.”

But Andrew said nothing. He was still recovering from the emotional roller coaster of the last few days.

Daniel shook his head.

“Eyin mejeji o wa okay. You both are not okay. We are waiting for you.”

He ended the call.

Feyi looked at Andrew as they stood together in the garden.

“Do we really have to go?” she grumbled, almost like a cute little girl.

Andrew smiled.

“Yes.”

“We really should do this more often.”

“Fight more often?”

“No joor.” She laughed. “We should spend more time together.”

“I agree.”

Andrew paused.

“And I have the perfect idea on how to achieve that.”

“I’m listening.”

“How about we finally stop postponing meeting your parents? That way, I get to spend forever with you”

Feyi’s face lit up.

“Yes. Yes! And this time, nothing will happen that will stop it.”

“Amen.”

They walked towards the car.

When they reached it, Feyi opened the driver’s door for Andrew.

He looked at her strangely.

“Oga, enter the car,” she said, laughing as she waited for him.

Andrew shook his head and got in.

Feyi walked around to the other side, entered the car, and Andrew drove off.

Cindy told the ride-hailing driver to make a turn.

He did.

The car changed direction and headed toward her favourite bar.

She leaned back against the seat and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

The last few days had been too much.

Too many conversations.

Too many things she didn’t want to think about.

She needed somewhere to breathe. Somewhere loud enough to drown out her thoughts. Somewhere she could sit, have a drink, and forget at least for a little while.

When they arrived, Cindy paid the driver and stepped out.

She stood by the roadside for a moment, staring at the entrance of the bar.

“Just one drink,” she muttered to herself.

She knew she was lying.

But she didn’t care.

She took another deep breath, adjusted her bag, and walked inside.

The music hit her almost immediately. Cindy felt like she didn’t have to think.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

Doyin stepped out of the house for a prayer walk.

As he walked, he began to pray.

“Lord Jesus, what’s up with Rere? Is she the one, or another?”

He had barely finished the question when he felt the answer in his spirit.

No.

He kept walking.

“Lord, show me. Show me. Show me, Lord. Please, show me.”

Then, somewhere between one street and the next, Jonathan and David dropped into his heart.

He knew what it meant.

And he didn’t like it.

Because, truthfully, he wanted it to be otherwise.

“God, abeg. I like this one o. Please, help me.”

But the more he prayed, the clearer it became.

Rere was going to be a friend.

That was all.

He wanted to argue with the answer, to keep praying until heaven changed its mind. But after a while, he sighed.

Well... I already have my answer. There’s no point praying again.

On his way back, he branched a suya spot.

He stood there for a moment, bought, then turned and went home.

Still, something about the whole thing left him wondering.

If Rere wasn’t the one, who was?

The ride stopped in front of Ben’s house.

Ben and Faith were about to go in when Ben suddenly remembered something.

“Wait. I didn’t get the barbecue.”

So they turned around and walked back to the spot where they had bought it.

As they walked, Faith pulled out her phone and dropped a message in the family group chat:

Guys, guess what?

Her elder sister replied almost immediately.

What?

Faith typed:

Ben proposed.

The group exploded.

Stickers flew in from her father, her mother, her elder sister, her younger brother—everybody had something to say. The family was being ridiculously dramatic.

Faith tried so hard not to laugh as she walked beside Ben.

Then her phone started ringing.

Family group call.

She quickly silenced it.

“Guys, you people want to embarrass me,” she typed. “I’m beside him now.”

Her elder sister responded with a sticker of someone staring intensely, clearly waiting for the full gist.

Faith laughed.

Let me get home first.

Ben waited for the barbecue while Faith stood slightly to the side, still chatting with her family.

Then a white SUV passed them.

It suddenly slowed.

Then reversed.

Faith looked up.

The windscreen came down.

“Faith?”

She froze.

“Felix.”

Felix smiled and got down from the car.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

They exchanged a quick hug.

“What are you doing around here?” Faith asked.

“I just came to Nigeria briefly for a conference. I decided to visit a friend along the street.”

“Ah, that’s nice. That’s nice. Well done.”

“And you?”

“I just came to get something with my friend.”

She pointed toward Ben, who was still speaking with the salesperson.

Felix glanced over.

“Ah. Nice. Nice to see you.”

They shook hands.

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

Felix got back into his car and drove away.

Faith watched the SUV disappear down the street.

Then she slowly lowered her phone.

Felix.

Her ex.

The hangout was beautiful.

Andrew, Feyi, Faith, Ben, Daniel, and Lara sat together on the mat, exchanging memories.

Light banter.

Heavy banter.

Stories from years ago.

Laughter filled the entire space.

Lara dropped a joke about what Ben was like when they were growing up, and everyone burst out laughing.

Daniel teased almost everybody, cracking them up, just as hilarious as he had always been.

Andrew, as usual, was a blend of seriousness and humour. He would joke for a while, then suddenly switch into a serious mood.

Feyi, on the other hand, gave her little contributions here and there, loosening up more as the conversation went on.

Then, after a while, Andrew asked a question.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

Lara started.

“Ten years? Married. Settled. Already close to the height of my career.”

Faith spoke next.

“Work. Having my own company. My NGO already established and self-sustaining. Really working with sponsors to cater for ladies.”

Feyi smiled.

“Building orphanages. Establishing children’s rights advocacy. Ensuring that the rights of children are protected all over the world.”

Then it was Ben.

“Building my media company. Expanding from photography into an academy and a media development centre. And in media, doing more than just church—working with organisations too, helping them position themselves the way they want to be seen.”

Everyone turned to Andrew.

“Well...” he began.

He thought for a moment.

“Quite a number of things, right? Be involved actively in ministry. Married. And, yeah...” He paused. “I can’t think of what else now.”

Andrew paused again.

“You know what? Not that everything we mentioned isn’t important. These are good plans. But let’s look at them closely.”

“Pastor!” Daniel shouted.

Everybody laughed.

“I am not a pastor” Andrew replied.

Feyi looked at him.

“You deceive yourself.”

More laughter.

But Andrew continued.

“Well, we’ve mentioned our plans, and it’s good to have plans. But we must also be ready to yield our plans to God, so He can make the necessary changes where He needs to.”

The laughter settled.

“And then, secondly—and this is probably the most important thing—you’ll notice that almost everything we said was about making our own lives better.”

He looked around.

“What is our gospel plan?”

Everyone became quiet.

“As we grow in life, we have plans to become better. Better careers. Better homes. Better businesses. Better lives.”

He paused.

“But what is our plan for the gospel?”

“What does our growth mean for the Kingdom?”

“Of course, our plans matter. But if we say we are Christians, then somewhere inside our plans, we should also have a plan for the gospel.”

No one spoke for a moment.

The laughter was still going when Ben and Lara’s parents walked into the living room and joined them on the mat.

“Good evening, Daddy.”

“Good evening, Ma.”

Everyone greeted them warmly.

“How are you all?” their father asked, settling down. “And thank you for organizing this for our daughter. We are proud of every one of you, of the people you are becoming, the things you are doing, and the lives you are touching. May God take you to great places, in Jesus’ name.”

“Amen,” they chorused.

He smiled.

“We were inside and kept hearing laughter, so I thought, let me come and see what these young people are up to.” He chuckled. “And perhaps share one or two things with you before the night ends.”

The room quieted.

Everyone shifted a little closer.

“As you grow older, you will discover that some lessons come from experience, while others can be learned by watching the lives of those who have gone ahead of you. Wisdom is knowing the difference and being humble enough to learn before life forces you to.”

He looked around the room.

“So tonight, I want to talk about three things that will shape many of the decisions you make in life.”

He paused.

“Faith. Family. Finances.”

The room was silent.

“Say it with me.”

“Faith. Family. Finances.”

“Good.”

He smiled.

“Some of you will soon be getting married. We don’t know who is next, but by God’s grace, we will gather here one day to celebrate every one of you.”

There were smiles and playful glances around the room. Ben’s eyes met with Faith’s.

“But when you begin building a life with another person, you will discover something very quickly: your decisions will often reveal what matters most to you.”

He leaned forward.

“Imagine you are offered a job that will increase your income tenfold. It sounds wonderful. But there is a catch you will spend six months of every year away from your family.”

He paused.

“Someone who places a very high value on finances might say, ‘This money will change our lives. We can manage the distance.’”

“Another person might say, ‘No. I don’t want to miss half of my children’s lives just because the money is good.’”

He nodded.

“Neither person is automatically right or wrong. The important thing is understanding what drives each person.”

He looked around the room.

“Because if one person believes money can solve almost every problem, while the other believes family must never be sacrificed for money, that difference will eventually show up.”

“Not because either person is bad.”

“But because they are looking at the same decision through completely different priorities.”

He paused.

“Then there is faith.”

“For some people, faith is not something they consult only when there is trouble. It is the foundation from which they make decisions.”

“If an opportunity is financially attractive but they genuinely believe God is asking them to walk away, they will walk away.”

“Not because the opportunity is bad. But because, for them, what God says comes first.”

He let the words settle.

“And then there is family.”

“You will meet people who will go out of their way for the people they love. They will travel hours for a family celebration. They will rearrange their plans because their parents need them. You will hear them say, ‘Sorry, my mum is calling. I have to take this.’”

He smiled.

“Those little things tell you something.”

“People reveal their priorities through their decisions.”

He looked from one person to another.

“So when you are choosing a spouse, don’t only ask, ‘Do I love this person?’”

“Ask, ‘What drives this person?’”

“And ask yourself the same question.”

“If money is extremely important to you and family is extremely important to your partner, you need to know that before you build a life together.”

“If faith is at the centre of your life, you need to understand where faith sits in the life of the person you are choosing.”

“Because marriage is not just two people falling in love. It is two people bringing their values, priorities, convictions and histories into the same home.”

He smiled gently.

“Understand one another. Talk about these things. Don’t assume that because you love each other, everything else will automatically fall into place.”

He sat back.

“That is all I wanted to share.”

His wife smiled.

“Well, since Daddy has opened the door…”

Everyone laughed.

She adjusted herself on the mat.

“I want to talk about something that is very important in marriage: unity and uniformity.”

The room became attentive again.

“Being united does not mean being identical.”

She looked around.

“You can be married to someone who is completely different from you and still build a beautiful life together.”

“Two people can wear the same uniform and still have completely different personalities.”

“So don’t be afraid of differences.”

“Instead, learn to understand them.”

“Find the things that unite you, and build around them. And where you are different, don’t spend your whole life trying to erase the other person. Learn to appreciate what makes them unique.”

She paused.

“Sometimes, the very thing that irritates you about your partner is the thing that balances you.”

A few people laughed knowingly.

“But there is another area where you must learn to understand each other.”

She smiled.

“Money.”

Everyone laughed again.

“Money is a very important part of life. And before you marry someone, you should know how they relate to it.”

“Are you a spender?”

“A saver?”

“A giver?”

She looked around.

“And don’t confuse a giver with a spender.”

“Someone may not spend much on themselves, but they may be extremely generous toward others because they genuinely care.”

“Another person may love comfort and enjoy spending. Another may be very cautious and save almost everything.”

“None of these things should simply be assumed.”

“You need to talk about them.”

She leaned forward.

“Know yourself. Know the person you want to build with. Know what money means to both of you.”

“And when marriage becomes a serious possibility, prepare for it intentionally.”

“Don’t wait until the wedding is three months away before asking, ‘So… how are we going to do this?’”

The room erupted in laughter.

“Plan. Save. Discuss expectations. Know where you are going.”

She smiled.

“Marriage is beautiful, but beautiful things still require preparation.”

She glanced at her husband.

“I think that’s enough from me.”

He nodded.

“And before we turn this into a full seminar,” he added, “let these young people go home.”

Everyone laughed.

His wife checked the time.

“Yes, please. We don’t want anybody getting home at midnight and explaining to their parents that they were listening to marriage counselling.”

“Thank you, sir and ma,” they chorused.

The parents rose and stepped outside for a short stroll, leaving the younger ones on the mat.

The moment they were gone, the room came alive again.

Someone reached for the barbecue.

Someone else protested that they had already eaten too much.

Lara laughed.

Ben argued.

The others joined in.

They shared the food, teased one another, replayed funny moments from the evening, and laughed until their sides hurt.

Eventually, the conversations grew quieter.

People began gathering their things.

One by one, they said their goodbyes.

It had started as a simple hangout.

But between the laughter, the teasing, the food and the unexpected wisdom from their parents, it had become something more. A night they would remember.

For a few beautiful hours, they had sat together as friends, as family, and as young people standing at the beginning of lives that were still unfolding. And that was the beauty of growing up.

You didn’t always know exactly where life was taking you.

But if you were surrounded by people who loved you, people who could laugh with you, correct you, pray for you and remind you of what truly mattered, you didn’t have to figure it all out alone.

Faith couldn’t hide her smile as she got into the house.

The entire family was waiting for her in the living room.

And she knew her family.

She already knew where everybody would be sitting. Her dad. Her mum. Her elder sister.

And her younger brother?

Extra dramatic, as usual.

She was not wrong.

The moment she opened the door, her younger brother screamed.

“She’s here! She’s here! The lover woman is here!”

The entire house burst into laughter.

Faith covered her face.

“Good evening, everybody. Have a wonderful night.”

She made it as if she was going to run upstairs and disappear into her room.

But that was impossible.

Her elder sister blocked her.

“You and who? Go back there, sit down and give us gist.”

Faith sighed dramatically and sat down.

“Ah! Finally, finally! After all the prayer, the fasting and the travelling!” her mum said.

At some point, her mum stood up and started dancing.

“My God has done is finally, finally, finally”

“Mommy!” Faith tried to stop herself from laughing. “Okay, okay, stop dancing. Do you want the gist or not?”

“Of course!”

“Mommyyyy” .

Her mum continued.

“What God cannot do—”

“DOES NOT EXIST!” everybody replied.

They laughed again.

Then Faith began to tell them everything.

How the proposal happened.

How the whole evening felt.

For a moment, it felt as though they were all one big family, sharing in the same joy.

Then her father finally spoke.

“So, when are you giving him an answer?”

Faith took a deep breath.

“I think that is exactly the problem.”

Her elder sister looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“God has a huge sense of humour”

“Well, this is not funny”

“I know, guess who I saw today after two years”

“Who?” the mum asked

“Felix”

“Felix?” the family chorused

“Yes, Felix”

“I was sure Ben had my response but after seeing him I’m not sure I want to do this again.”

“But you have prayed.”

“Yes, I have prayed.”

“You know he’s the one.”

“Yes. I know he’s the one.”

She paused.

“I am scared of going on this journey again.”

Her family became quiet.

“I don’t want to go through that again.”

“Faith,” her sister said, “it was your first relationship. And we all learn from it”

“I should have handled it better. Be more understanding.”

“If you know better, you will do better. Now you know better, so you will do better”

She shook her head.

“But I’m not sure I’m ready to go again.”

Her voice became quieter.

“I think I still have this fear that this relationship might not work too. I don’t want to give my all again and then it doesn’t end where it is supposed to.”

Her father stood up.

He walked over to her and sat on the arm of the chair beside his daughter.

“Faith,” he said gently, “we all have experiences we are not proud of. Experiences that can make us afraid to move again.”

He paused.

“But the righteous may fall seven times, and he will rise again. Things can happen that make you afraid to try again. But my dear daughter, we are all here for you.”

“If God gives the instruction and you are ready to obey, trust Him to strengthen you for everything that comes with that obedience.”

Faith sighed.

“I don’t know, Dad. I really don’t know.”

Her younger brother, who had apparently not been listening to the seriousness of the conversation for very long, jumped in.

“Abeg, just tell this man yes and let us start planning wedding!”

“Ah, relax, relax, relax!”

“Is he not saying the truth?” her mum added.

“Do you know how long we have been praying about this? Someone we put his name inside our Bible.”

“Mummy?”

“No, not literally,” her sister quickly corrected.

Her mum laughed.

“But yes, we have been praying about this thing!”

Faith shook her head.

“Thank you for your prayers. Please, let’s add our outreach to the prayer points. We are going for outreach tomorrow.”

“Who is we?” her mum asked.

“Me and Ben.”

“Hey!”

Her mum stood up again and started dancing.

“My daughter is going to outreach with her boyfriend!”

“He is not my boyfriend!”

“Yet but he will be”

“Mummyyyy”

“Better keep quiet. My daughter is going to touch lives with her boyfriend. That is what we are talking about!”

“When you are doing missions and fulfilling purpose together before they even become your boyfriend!”

“Mommy, please.”

“Leave me o. I will dance my dance”

Everybody laughed.

“Anyway,” her mum said, “go and freshen up and come and eat.”

“Ah, if I eat right now, it’s not good. The amount of things I have eaten in that house!”

“You mean at our in law’s place?”

Faith covered her face with her bag, hiding her big smile. She still needed to face her fear of trying again but right now the joy in her family was without bounds.

Faith laughed and ran upstairs.

And the family burst into laughter again.

It was noisy.

It was dramatic.

It was beautiful.

Doyin got home, dropped his keys on the table, and settled onto the couch with his suya.

He picked up a piece, chewed slowly, and shook his head.

“Hmm.”

This was one girl he had genuinely hoped would be the one.

That was what made this difficult.

Obedience was easy when God’s answer agreed with your desire. It was different when your heart wanted one thing and you believed God was asking you to let it go.

Still, he had to trust that God could see what he couldn’t.

Doyin reached for his phone.

He could keep talking to Rere and see where things went. But that didn’t sit right with him. If he already knew, continuing without telling her felt dishonest.

So he called.

Rere picked up almost immediately.

Doyin laughed. “Ah-ah. Won’t you allow the phone to ring?”

“It rang.”

“For how long?”

“One second.”

“One second?”

“Yes. What do you want me to do? Watch it ring?”

He laughed. “No, no. It’s fine.”

“So why did you call?”

“Can’t I just check on you?”

“You can. But you sound funny.”

“Funny how?”

“Like someone who has something to say and is looking for the right way to say it.”

Doyin went quiet.

Rere laughed. “See? I knew it.”

“You’re too observant.”

“I know. Now talk.”

He shifted on the couch.

“Okay. I’ve been thinking about us.”

“Oh.”

“And I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.”

“Me too.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to keep going without being sure about what this is.”

Rere was quiet for a moment.

“And?”

Doyin took a breath.

“I prayed about it.”

“And?”

“I got a no.”

Silence.

Then—

“Okay.”

Doyin blinked.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

“What did you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting ‘okay.’”

Rere laughed softly. “Well, you’re not the only one who prayed.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I wasn’t exactly getting a yes either.”

Doyin smiled.

“So you already knew?”

“Not exactly. But you changed.”

“I changed?”

“Yes. You became very… unavailable.”

He laughed. “Unavailable?”

“You used to reply quickly. Then suddenly, you’d disappear and come back sounding like you’d just finished a three-hour prayer meeting.”

Doyin burst out laughing.

“That’s not fair.”

“It is very fair.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I figured something was up.”

He smiled.

“I honestly didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You just did.”

“Yeah.”

There was a comfortable silence.

Then Rere said, “Well… cheers to friendship?”

Doyin smiled.

“Cheers.”

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

“Good friends?”

“Don’t push it.”

She laughed. “See? You’re already annoying me.”

“And you’re already disturbing me.”

“Some things never change.”

Doyin laughed.

The heaviness in his chest eased.

“So we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Promise?”

“Doyin, please.”

He laughed.

“Okay, okay.”

Neither of them hung up.

A few seconds passed.

Then Rere said, “So…”

“So?”

“Why did you actually call?”

He laughed. “I told you why.”

“No. Why did you really call?”

Doyin smiled.

“To make sure we’re okay.”

“We’re okay.”

“Good.”

“And to make sure you don’t start avoiding me.”

“Me? Never.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

They both laughed.

“Alright,” Rere said. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

The call ended.

Doyin stared at his phone for a moment, then smiled.

It still hurt.

But losing the possibility of a relationship hadn’t meant losing Rere.

He reached for another piece of suya.

“God abeg.”

Sometimes obedience meant letting go of what you wanted not because it was bad, but because you trusted that God could see what you couldn’t.

And for now, that had to be enough.

Daniel dragged a chair over to the bed and dropped into it beside Ben.

Ben looked up, already grinning.

“Spill. Full gist.”

Ben shook his head. “You and who? I’m keeping this one to myself.”

“If I hear!”

“You see, I used to be single, afraid, and too scared to take a step of faith. But my brother, faith moves mountains.”

Daniel stared at him.

“Na me give you that line.”

“Na me use am get babe. Abi, you get?”

“Nice one.”

Daniel pointed at him. “Na why two of una dey blush like tyre.”

Ben frowned.

“Tyre?”

“I don’t even know how that one entered my head. I just said it.”

Ben laughed.

“This is what happens when people are single.”

“Single?” Daniel scoffed. “She hasn’t even given you an answer.”

“Isn’t faith the substance of things hoped for?”

Daniel slapped his forehead.

“He don do ooo!”

Ben laughed.

“I think she kind of knew, though. Women have their ways of knowing these things.”

Daniel grinned.

“Congratulations, man.”

Before Ben could respond, Daniel lunged at him, lifted him off the bed, and began dancing around the room with him.

“Daniel! Leave me!”

“Never!”

“Drop me! Drop me down!”

Daniel kept dancing.

“God has finally answered prayer!”

“Daniel!”

“Somebody is getting married!”

“Put me down!”

Eventually, Daniel dropped him back on the bed.

Ben straightened his shirt, trying to recover his dignity.

“Now I have to prepare for outreach tomorrow.”

Daniel stared at him.

“What outreach again?”

“Outreach tomorrow.”

“With who?”

“My bride-to-be.”

Daniel burst out laughing.

“Your bride-to-be hasn’t even answered you!”

“I don’t care. Positive confession. Speak into the future.”

Daniel shook his head.

Ben sat up, suddenly taking on the voice of a preacher.

“When your bride-to-be is about to embark on a ministerial assignment, as a priest, as somebody standing in the gap, as a prophet, you have to speak the Word into the day. You shape your perception with the Word. You take what belongs to you by faith.”

Daniel stared at him.

“That is the second time you’ve said ‘faith’ unnecessarily.”

“My brother, I’ve said faith one million times, and I will say it again.”

He paused dramatically.

“As long as you don’t have anybody’s name that means love to you.”

Daniel blinked.

“Wow.”

Ben smiled.

“Nice one, right?”

“Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Beautiful attack.”

“Thank you.”

“Very mature.”

“I appreciate that.”

Daniel shook his head.

“You are gone.”

Ben laughed as he reached for his phone.

“Let me check on my—”

“Don’t say it.”

Ben ignored him and typed.

Hi, Faith. Thank you so much for today. I really enjoyed your company. Have you gotten home?

He hit send and smiled.

“You see? I’ve checked up on her.”

Daniel rolled his eyes.

“Who are you checking up on?”

“Bro, just free me!”

Daniel laughed.

Ben was still smiling at his phone when a voice came from outside the room.

“Ben!”

He looked up.

His mother’s voice.

“Coming, Mum.”

He stood and slipped his phone into his pocket.

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

“Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Ben gave him a suspicious look before walking towards the door.

He had no idea that the conversation waiting for him was about to take a turn he hadn’t expected.

Ben entered the room and immediately knew, from the way his parents were seated, that this was going to be a serious conversation.

He sat opposite them.

“Good evening, Dad. Good evening, Mum.”

“Good evening, Ben. How are you?” his mother asked.

“I’m fine. How are you both?”

“We’re good.”

A brief silence followed.

“So,” his father began, “we’ll be returning abroad the day after tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“But before we go…” His mother leaned forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Is that Faith? The girl who sat beside you during the hangout?”

Ben smiled.

“Yes.”

“Ah.” She nodded knowingly. “Okay.”

“Mom, talk.”

“Nothing now. I just wanted to confirm.”

“Yes, ma.”

His father suddenly cleared his throat.

“You cannot marry her.”

Ben froze.

He looked at his father.

“What happened? I told you both about her since.”

“We know,” his mother said. “Let your father finish.”

His father kept a straight face.

“You cannot marry her…”

Ben waited.

“…unless you pay the bride price.”

His father burst into laughter.

Ben stared at him for a second before laughing too.

“You needed to see your face!” his mother exclaimed.

“Dad! Mum! You people are too old for this kind of prank.”

“Says who?” his father replied.

They all laughed.

Ben shook his head.

“Speaking of Faith,” Ben said

“You told her?”

“This evening.”

“With style?” she asked. “Or did you speak like a fine young man?”

“I opened up clearly.”

“And?”

“I’m waiting for her answer.”

His father’s expression changed.

“Good. While you’re waiting for her answer, we also need an answer from you.”

Ben looked at him.

“An answer to what?”

“We want you to return abroad with us.”

Ben blinked.

Then laughed.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

His father leaned back.

“The car we left for you is still yours, but you hardly use it. Lara has practically adopted it. The company is doing well, and you’re still the Managing Director whether you like it or not.”

Ben smiled.

“I thought I resigned.”

“You took a break.”

“I took a very serious break.”

His father smiled.

“You said you needed to step away and try something different. We understood. But Lara is leaving Nigeria, and it makes sense for you to come back and resume your position.”

Ben looked at his parents.

“Well, one major reason I stayed back is about to be checked.”

His mother raised an eyebrow.

“So does that mean you’re going?”

“It means I can now think about it.”

His father nodded.

“Fair enough. Think about it. I’m not forcing you. I’m simply saying that perhaps it’s time to come home and do what you’re supposed to do.”

Ben nodded.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

His mother, however, had already moved on.

“She’s beautiful, though.”

Ben looked at her.

“Who?”

“Faith.”

His father glanced at her.

“Yes. She is.”

Ben smiled.

“Ah, yeah. She looks just like you.”

His mother smiled proudly.

“I’m proud of you.”

Ben looked at her.

“I saw the two of you together,” she continued. “You looked so comfortable, like you’d known each other for years.”

Ben suddenly became shy.

His father looked between them.

“Are you people listening to me at all?”

His mother laughed.

“I’m listening.”

“No, you’re not. We were discussing your son returning abroad.”

“And now we’re discussing your son bringing a woman home.”

Ben groaned.

“Mom…”

“He has proposed!”

“Oh, what a good day this is!” she exclaimed. “What a good day!”

Ben leaned towards her.

“Please don’t be dramatic.”

The door opened.

Lara walked in.

Ben immediately stood.

“Perfect. I’m leaving.”

Lara caught his hand.

“Nope. I’m not missing this.”

“Mom, why are you being dramatic?” Lara asked.

Her mother pointed at Ben.

“Your brother has proposed!”

Lara’s eyes widened.

“You what?”

Ben sighed.

“You sly guy! You didn’t tell me?”

“Well, technically, I didn’t plan it.”

“How did it go?” Lara asked, already laughing. “Tell me everything.”

“It went well.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re her best friend,” Ben said. “You probably know more than I do.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Ben threw his hands up.

“What have I done to all of you?”

Lara laughed.

“So what did you say? Please tell me you didn’t embarrass us.”

“Daniel asked me the same thing!”

“Because we know you,” Lara replied.

Ben shook his head.

“You people. I am not the same person anymore. I have changed. I do things beautifully now.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lara said.

“Neither do I,” his mother added.

Ben stared at both of them.

“You see what I’m saying?”

They all burst into laughter.

And as Ben and Lara continued their familiar banter, their parents simply watched.

There was something beautiful about seeing your children grow into adults you could trust.

The joy was not that they would never make mistakes.

It was knowing that, when the time came for them to make their own decisions, they had grown enough to make them well.

“Get me another bottle!”

Cindy’s voice cut through the noise of the bar.

The elderly female waiter standing beside her hesitated.

She had been watching Cindy for a while now, the way she kept emptying her glass, the way her hands had begun to shake, the sadness in her eyes that no amount of alcohol seemed able to drown.

“Ma,” the waiter said gently, “I think… I think it would be good for you to start going home now.”

Cindy slowly turned to look at her.

For a moment, her face was blank.

Then her eyes narrowed.

“Are you telling me that I’m drunk?”

“No, ma.”

“Are you telling me I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“No, ma.”

“Are you telling me that I can’t be here?”

“You can, ma.” The waiter lowered her voice. “I’m not saying that. I just… as a fellow woman, I think you’ve had enough. Maybe you should take a little break.”

Cindy gave a bitter laugh.

“You’re telling me what to do now?”

“No, ma.”

“You think you know my life?”

The waiter said nothing.

“You think you know what I’m going through?”

“No, ma. I don’t.”

Cindy stared at her.

Her eyes were beginning to shine, though whether from anger or tears, even she could no longer tell.

“You don’t know anything about me,” she whispered.

The waiter’s face softened.

“I know, ma.”

“Then don’t tell me what to do with my life.”

“I’m sorry, ma.”

“Just give me what I ordered.”

The waiter hesitated.

Cindy’s voice rose.

“Give me another bottle!”

The waiter lowered her eyes.

“Yes, ma.”

She turned and walked back to the bar.

A few moments later, she returned with another bottle and placed it gently on Cindy’s table.

Cindy picked it up.

“You should learn how to treat your customers,” she said, her words beginning to slur. “You don’t tell people things they didn’t ask you. Is that okay?”

The waiter bent her head.

“Yes, ma.”

Cindy opened the bottle with trembling fingers.

She poured herself a drink.

Then another.

Finally, she raised the glass to her lips and emptied it in one desperate gulp.

For a few seconds, she sat there, staring at nothing.

Then she stood.

The world moved.

Or perhaps she did.

Cindy staggered.

The waiter quickly reached for her.

“Ma!”

Cindy pulled her hand away.

“I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t.

She bent down unsteadily and removed her shoes. Holding them in one hand, she walked towards the door barefoot.

“Ma, please,” the waiter called after her. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”

Cindy did not turn.

“No.”

She stepped out of the bar.

The night swallowed her.

The bright headlights of different cars flashed across her face, blinding her momentarily. She raised her free hand, trying to shield her eyes from the harsh rays.

For a moment, she simply stood there.

Alone.

Barefoot.

Her shoes dangling from one hand.

The bottle and everything it had failed to erase still burning somewhere inside her.

A short distance away, a group of men noticed her.

One of them nudged the other.

They looked in her direction.

Cindy did not see them.

She was too unsteady to notice anything around her.

Too drunk. Too alone.

Cindy had already begun walking away. And in the darkness, the men began to move.

Mufu had just ended a call with his mother. He had called to greet her and check up on how she was doing.

As he dropped his phone, his screen lit up.

A picture of Cindy flashed before him.

Mufu stared at it.

Then he groaned.

“Ah! What again?”

He dropped the phone on the bed.

“Do you want to take me back to where I escaped from? Just leave me alone!”

He stood up, determined to distract himself.

“I’ll just watch a movie.”

But before he could take a few steps, Cindy came to his mind again.

Mufu stopped.

“See this girl,” he muttered. “Leave me alone. Stop entering my mind. What is this, gan? What is it?”

He shook his head.

Then he opened Netflix and switched on a movie.

The movie began to play.

But the more he watched, the more distracted he became.

His eyes were on the screen, but his mind was somewhere else.

Cindy.

Again.

A heaviness settled in his chest.

Mufu paused the movie.

“Ah, I don’t know what this is, o.”

He stood up.

For a few seconds, he simply paced around the room.

Then he stopped.

“Cindy.”

“They said prayer works, I will pray you out of my mind now”

He closed his eyes.

“In the name of Jesus, you will encounter Jesus.”

Mufu opened his eyes. His mind was saying one thing, his mouth was praying another.

He tried again.

His voice was low at first.

“You will come to the knowledge of the truth. You will change your ways. The Lord will encounter you in the most supernatural way.”

He gave up and just prayed in the direction the words were coming.

He took a step forward.

“The way He met me, He will meet you.”

His voice grew firmer.

“You will not remain the same. Your life will change. Your life has changed!”

He began to pray with greater intensity.

“Because I gave my life to Jesus, I have become a gateway through which everyone who knew me before will access heaven, in the name of Jesus!”

Something shifted within him.

Mufu began to pray in utterances.

What had started as a sluggish, reluctant, almost painful prayer suddenly became something deeper.

More intense.

More fervent.

The burden grew.

“Cindy, you will know the Lord!”

His voice rose.

“You will meet the Lord! You will meet the Lord in the name of Jesus!”

He paced the room.

“The testimony of your life will be that you were blind, but now you can see!”

His hands shook as he prayed.

“Chains are broken over you!”

His voice echoed through the room.

“You can see!

“You can see!

“You can see!”

He fell to his knees.

“You are not blind!

“You are not blind!”

Tears gathered in his eyes.

“The veil of darkness is removed in the name of Jesus!”

And Mufu continued to pray.

Feyi dialled Cindy’s number again.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No answer.

She stared at the screen until the call eventually ended.

They had fought earlier that morning. Badly enough that Feyi had told herself she needed some distance from Cindy.

And yet, for some strange reason, she could not shake her.

Something about Cindy had been sitting heavily on her heart all day.

Feyi picked up her phone again.

She typed a message.

Cindy, please reply to this message as soon as you see it.

She sent it.

For a moment, she stared at the message, as though willing the two blue ticks to appear.

Nothing.

She dropped the phone and looked at Andrew who was driving.

She tried to occupy herself.

But her mind kept returning to Cindy.

Where was she?

Why wasn’t she answering?

Feyi picked up her phone again.

She called.

No answer.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Fade exhaled slowly.

“What is wrong with me?”

She held the seat belt.

Her heart felt strangely unsettled.

She couldn’t explain it.

They had argued. She should have been angry. She should have been enjoying the silence.

Instead, she felt worried.

Deeply worried.

She called again.

This time, when the call rang without an answer, Feyi whispered,

“Where are you?”

She looked down at the phone.

“Where in this world are you?”

Her voice trembled slightly.

She didn’t know why.

She didn’t know what had changed.

She only knew that something in her heart refused to let her ignore Cindy.

Fade closed her eyes.

“God…”

She swallowed.

“I don’t know why, but I just feel concerned about her.”

She sat there quietly, phone still in her hand.

“Fine girl.”

One of the men stepped closer to Cindy. The top buttons of his shirt were open, and the smell of alcohol hung heavily around him.

“Where you dey go now?”

Cindy blinked at him, trying to focus.

She mentioned her location.

“Ah-ah,” another man said, joining them. “See as she fine. You sure say you no fit carry her go somewhere else?”

The first man laughed.

“Why you dey talk like that? She no even sabi wetin she dey do now.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” another added.

“I know,” the first man replied. “That’s why I want to help her.”

A third man, who had been watching them, gave a dry laugh.

“Stranger, helper, and saviour.”

“Well, I can show you where to help her.”

He pointed towards a dark passage a short distance away from the bar.

“Ah-ah. You be helper, abi?” one of the others mocked.

The men laughed among themselves, three drunk men feeding off one another’s recklessness.

Then one of them turned back to Cindy.

“Aunty, this way.”

Cindy looked in the direction he was pointing.

Her head felt heavy. Her thoughts were blurred. The world around her seemed to move in and out of focus.

She should have known better. She should have walked away.

But in that moment, she was too drunk to understand what was happening.

Too unsteady to think clearly.

She took a step.

Then another.

And slowly, staggering and completely unaware of the danger ahead, Cindy began to follow them.

Behind her, the bright lights of the bar continued to shine.

Ahead of her was darkness.

“Where is your mind?”

Andrew glanced at Feyi as they drove.

Feyi stared ahead, her phone still in her hand.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

Feyi shook her head.

“My roommate… my heart is just… I don’t know. Something feels wrong. Something feels like something serious is happening right now.”

She swallowed hard.

“I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve been trying to call her, but she’s not picking up.”

Andrew’s expression changed.

“Then pray.”

Feyi turned to him.

“Pray?”

“Yes. If your heart is troubled about her, pray. God always speaks.”

Feyi nodded slowly.

And there, inside the moving car, they joined hands.

Andrew and Feyi bowed their heads.

“Father, in the name of Jesus,” Andrew began, “we commit Cindy into Your hands right now.”

Feyi’s voice joined his.

“Wherever she is, Lord, let Your hand of protection rest upon her.”

“She is covered by the blood of the Lamb, in the name of Jesus.”

“No evil will befall her, in Jesus’ name.”

Feyi squeezed Andrew’s hand.

“Lord, let her encounter Your love.”

“Let her come face to face with Your supernatural and unconditional love.”

Andrew continued.

“Your love that covers. Your love that reaches beyond where we can reach.”

“The sun rises upon the righteous and the unrighteous. Let today be an expression of Your love that covers all.”

“In Jesus’ name.”

“Amen.”

Feyi opened her eyes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Back near the bar, the two men led Cindy further into the darkness.

Cindy staggered after them.

“Where is the cab?” she asked.

“It’s down there,” one of the men replied.

Cindy stopped.

“No…”

“Come on,” the other man said. “Go there.”

They continued walking.

After a while, something changed.

One of the men moved ahead of her.

The other remained behind.

Cindy found herself trapped between them.

Her steps slowed.

Even through the haze of alcohol, something inside her began to stir.

Fear.

She looked ahead.

They were approaching a closed gate.

“There’s no way there,” she said.

The man in front turned around.

“We know.”

Cindy stopped.

Her heart began to beat faster.

Even though she was drunk, even though her thoughts were slow and scattered, the sense of danger rose sharply within her.

“What is going on here?” she asked.

Her voice was weak.

The man behind her stepped closer.

“We’re about to show you the way out.”

Cindy turned.

And that was when she heard it.

The unmistakable sound of a belt being unfastened.

Her body went cold.

The man in front licked his lips as he watched her.

The other, standing behind her, raised a hand and hailed him.

Cindy turned sharply, ready to run.

But there was nowhere to go.

She closed her eyes.

“Jesus…”

The name escaped her lips before she even knew she had said it.

The man behind her stood in her path, one hand raised, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“Baby,” he said, “no way out.”

Cindy froze.

He tilted his head.

“How do you want it? Stone cold or burning hot?”

The other man laughed.

Slowly, he began to move closer to her.

Cindy’s eyes darted from one man to the other. She turned in circles, desperately searching for a way out, but the narrow passage offered her none.

Her breathing quickened.

She opened her mouth to scream.

The man in front of her pulled out a gun.

Cindy went still.

Her voice disappeared.

Her body trembled as she shut her eyes tightly.

The two men moved closer, closing in on her until she was trapped between them.

One of them stretched out his hand to grab her.

“Akeem! Parago!”

The voice thundered through the darkness.

Both men stopped.

They turned.

Standing at the entrance of the passage was the woman from the bar.

The same woman Cindy had insulted only minutes earlier.

The men exchanged glances.

“Mama, abeg free this one for us,” one of them said casually.

The woman shook her head.

“Alẹlẹ. Get out of here. Now. You don’t want to have sense?”

Something in her voice changed the atmosphere.

The men hesitated.

Then one of them looked at Cindy and shook his head.

“Na your head save you o.”

Cindy remained frozen.

The men walked away.

For several seconds, she could not move.

The woman approached her slowly.

Cindy opened her eyes.

The woman took her by the hand.

“Come.”

Without another word, she led her out of the dark passage and back towards the street.

The moment they reached the roadside, the woman reached into her bag.

“Aunty, you forgot your phone. It has been ringing.”

She stretched the phone towards Cindy.

Cindy collected it with trembling hands.

The woman looked around and waved towards a car parked nearby.

A man was sitting behind the wheel.

She called out to him.

“Where are you going?” she asked Cindy.

Cindy mentioned her location.

The woman nodded and turned to the driver.

“Take her there.”

She brought out some money and handed it to him.

“Make sure she gets home safely.”

Cindy stood there, still trying to process everything that had just happened.

Then she entered the car.

The driver waited until she was properly seated before pulling away.

As the car moved into the night, Cindy looked down at the phone in her hand.

It had been ringing.

Feyi had been trying to reach her.

Andrew drove into Feyi’s compound.

The last time he had been there, he had been driven out in anger.

But tonight was different.

There was laughter.

There was warmth.

There was peace.

As soon as they parked, Feyi got out of the car.

Andrew stepped out too.

Feyi turned to him.

“I love you, right?”

Andrew looked at her and smiled.

“I know.”

Feyi frowned.

“You’re supposed to say you love me too.”

Andrew chuckled.

“Okay, sorry. I love you too.”

Immediately, Feyi threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly like a child hugging her father.

Andrew laughed.

“Ah-ah. Cute baby girl.”

But the hug lasted a little longer than expected.

Andrew cleared his throat.

“Aunty, aunty… help me, help me, abeg.”

Feyi laughed and finally released him.

Then

A car drove into the compound.

Andrew and Feyi turned.

The car came to a stop.

The door opened.

Cindy stepped out.

The smell of alcohol followed her.

She was still drunk. Her hair was scattered, her steps were unsteady, and her face was wet with tears.

For a second, Feyi simply stared at her.

Then Cindy saw her.

“Feyi…”

And suddenly, she began to run.

She stumbled as she moved forward, but she kept coming.

Straight into Feyi’s arms.

Feyi held her.

Tightly.

And Cindy broke down.

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally came freely.

She held onto Feyi as though she had spent the entire night searching for somewhere safe to fall apart.

And perhaps she had.

Andrew opened the door for them.

Feyi supported Cindy as they walked into the house together and settled in the sitting room.

Cindy said nothing.

Not a single word.

She simply sank onto the couch and, after a moment, gently placed her head on Feyi’s lap.

Feyi looked down at her.

Cindy’s eyes were closed, but tears still slipped quietly down the sides of her face.

Feyi said nothing either.

She simply rested a hand on Cindy’s hair.

For that moment, there was no argument.

No anger.

No questions.

Just silence.

And safety.

Andrew’s phone beeped.

He looked down at the screen.

His meeting with the pastor was about to begin.

He glanced at Feyi.

Feyi looked up at him.

Andrew gave her a small wave.

She nodded.

He quietly walked away, leaving the two women in the sitting room.

He got into his car and drove home. What a day it has been.

The Reverend joined the Zoom meeting.

Almost immediately, the energy on the platform changed.

The executives welcomed him warmly. After the opening prayer, the host took the microphone.

“In Jesus’ name, we have prayed”

“Amen!” several voices responded at once.

“With great joy, I bring onto this e-platform our dear father in the Lord. Our father. Our daddy. A man sent to us. A man whose word comes to us in season and out of season.”

The comments began to flood the screen.

👏👏👏
🔥🔥🔥
“Welcome, sir!”
“We love you, sir!”
“Thank you for always teaching us!”

“Please join me as we welcome our dear pastor”

The virtual room erupted.

The Reverend cleared his throat.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

He paused, looking at the screen.

“You people… drama is too much.”

Laughter erupted across the meeting.

“We’re excited, sir!”

“Your sermons have changed my life!”

“Thank you for these teachings!”

The Reverend smiled.

“Alright. Alright.”

He settled into his seat.

“I think we will be bringing our online series to a close today.”

The comments immediately exploded.

“Ahhh!”

“Why, sir?”

“Already?”

“This is not fair!”

Someone typed:

Sir, this is not a foundation. This is a seven-storey building project.

The Reverend laughed.

“Seven-storey building?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Alright. Perhaps we have laid a seven-storey foundation then.”

More laughter.

“But seriously, we cannot teach everything in one series. There is always more to learn. But I believe we have laid something important, a foundation upon which you can continue to build.”

He opened his Bible.

“Now, I promised to teach on sleep, flesh and rib.”

He paused.

“Or was it sleep, flesh and bone?”

He looked away from the camera.

“I honestly cannot remember.”

The laughter returned.

“But I know sleep is there. Flesh is there. Rib is there. So let us just go with all of them.”

He smiled.

“Open your Bibles to Genesis chapter two. Verses twenty-one to twenty-three.”

He read slowly:

“So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept, took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man He made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then Adam said, ‘This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman.’”

He closed the Bible halfway.

“Today, I want to title this concluding conversation: Sleep, Flesh and Ribs.”

A brief silence followed.

“Let us begin with sleep.”

He leaned closer to the camera.

“Genesis says, ‘The Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man.’”

“Now, when I say sleep, I am not telling you to go and lie down.”

The comments filled with laughing emojis.

“I am talking about rest.”

“Some of you need to learn how to rest in God.”

“You are too desperate.”

“You are too anxious.”

“You are trying to force things that God has not asked you to force.”

“You are touching everything God is trying to arrange.”

He paused.

“Have you ever wondered why a patient is put under anaesthesia during surgery?”

“So that the patient does not interfere with the procedure.”

“Imagine the doctor is operating and suddenly the patient wakes up and says, ‘Doctor! What are you doing? Why are you cutting me?’”

The people laughed.

“He will disrupt the entire operation.”

“And sometimes, that is exactly what we do with God.”

“God is working on us, but we keep waking up.”

“We keep interfering.”

“We keep asking questions every five minutes.”

“‘God, is it this person?’”

“‘God, is it this job?’”

“‘God, is it this city?’”

“‘God, when will it happen?’”

“‘God, what about this one?’”

“Rest.”

He let the word hang in the air.

“Be still.”

“Psalm 46 says, ‘Be still, and know that I am God.’”

“Stillness is not laziness.”

“Rest is not irresponsibility.”

“You can work hard and still rest in God.”

“You can prepare diligently and still rest in God.”

“You can pursue purpose and still rest in God.”

“Rest simply means that you have come to the place where you understand that God is God, and you are not.”

The room became quieter.

“You do your part.”

“You obey.”

“You prepare.”

“You show up.”

“But you do not live as though the entire outcome depends on your ability to control everything.”

“You trust Him.”

“Because when you believe God is good, you don’t have to manipulate the process.”

He paused.

“Some of you are moving from one thing to another because you cannot sit still long enough for God to develop you.”

“Today it is technology.”

“Tomorrow it is finance.”

“Next tomorrow it is e-business.”

“Then another thing.”

“You are everywhere.”

“You have started everything and finished nothing.”

“You have information, but no formation.”

“You know many things, but you have not become the person required to carry what you are asking God for.”

He leaned forward.

“Sometimes God makes you sleep because He is working on something you cannot see.”

“And when you wake up, you discover that while you were resting, God was preparing something.”

He turned the page.

“Now, the Bible says that while Adam slept, God took his rib.”

“Think about that.”

“Adam was asleep.”

“God was working.”

“Adam was not directing the process.”

“He was not giving God instructions.”

“He was not saying, ‘God, take this rib. No, no, not that one. Take that one.’”

The room laughed.

“God knew exactly what He was doing.”

“And some of you need to hear this tonight.”

“God knows what He is doing with your life.”

“You may not understand the season.”

“You may not understand the delay.”

“You may not understand why one door closed.”

“You may not understand why that relationship did not work.”

“You may not understand why that opportunity disappeared.”

“But your lack of understanding does not mean God has lost control.”

He paused.

“Trust Him.”

Then he continued.

“God took the rib and closed its place with flesh.”

“Rib and flesh.”

“Bone and flesh.”

“Now, what does the rib do?”

“It protects.”

“The rib cage protects vital organs.”

“And yet, the place from which the rib was taken became tender.”

“That is powerful.”

“Because the person who comes closest to you will also have access to the tenderest parts of you.”

“You can be hard with everybody else.”

“You can be strong in front of everyone.”

“You can walk into a room and nobody knows what is going on inside you.”

“But then one person comes.”

“And somehow, you soften.”

“One word from them can change your entire mood.”

“One look can make you vulnerable.”

“One sentence can hurt you deeply.”

“Why?”

“Because closeness creates access.”

He slowed down.

“The person you marry may have the capacity to hurt you more deeply than almost anyone else.”

“Not necessarily because they are wicked.”

“But because they are close.”

“Your spouse will see things nobody else sees.”

“They will know the parts of you that you hide from the world.”

“They will see your weakness.”

“They will see your fears.”

“They will see your failures.”

“They will see you when the public version of you has disappeared.”

“And because of that, marriage requires something many people are unwilling to give.”

“Vulnerability.”

He opened his Bible again.

“Genesis 2:25 says, ‘The man and his wife were both naked, and they were not ashamed.’”

“Very important.”

“Very, very important.”

“When I say naked, please don’t misunderstand me.”

“I am not telling an unmarried person to become physically naked with someone they are not married to.”

“Please, draw your ears.”

They laughed.

“That is not what I am saying.”

“I am talking about vulnerability.”

“When a relationship becomes serious enough to consider marriage, you must learn to tell the truth.”

“You cannot build a marriage on edited information.”

“You have to talk about your sexual history.”

“You have to talk about your finances.”

“You have to talk about your struggles.”

“You have to talk about temptations.”

“You have to talk about your family patterns.”

“You have to talk about previous relationships.”

“If you have children, say it.”

“If you have debts, say it.”

“If you have financial obligations, say it.”

“If there is something in your past that may affect your future, don’t hide it and hope they never find out.”

“Because what you hide before marriage does not disappear after marriage. It only becomes a future surprise.”

He paused.

“And let me say this to the men.”

“If there is a particular situation or kind of person that triggers you sexually, tell your partner when the relationship is serious enough for that conversation.”

“And to the women, the same thing applies.”

“If there is something that attracts you, something that tempts you, something you struggle with, don’t pretend it does not exist.”

“Why?”

“Because you cannot help someone who refuses to speak. You cannot pray effectively about what someone has refused to reveal. You cannot protect what you do not know exists. Transparency creates the possibility of accountability. And accountability creates the possibility of protection.”

He paused.

“But there is another side to this.”

“If someone opens up to you, don’t punish them for their honesty. Don’t weaponize their vulnerability. Don’t use what they told you in confidence as ammunition during an argument. If you cannot receive the truth without condemning the person, you may not yet be ready for the kind of intimacy you are asking for.”

He nodded.

“They were naked and they were not ashamed. Not because there was nothing imperfect about them. But because there was safety between them.”

“That is what you should build. A relationship where truth can breathe. A home where confession does not automatically lead to condemnation. A marriage where two people can say, ‘This is where I am weak,’ and the other person says, ‘Then let me stand with you.’”

He took a breath.

“Now let’s talk about one flesh.”

“Genesis 2:24 says, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.’”

“One flesh.”

“One flesh.”

“One flesh.”

The comments began to repeat it.

ONE FLESH.

He nodded.

“One flesh means you are no longer building two separate lives that occasionally meet. You are building one life.”

“You may have individual assignments. You may have different gifts. You may have different personalities. You may even have different areas of expertise. But when you come together, there must be a joint vision.”

“You cannot be married and be permanently headed in opposite directions. One person is building one thing. The other is building something completely different. And there is no point where the two visions meet.”

“No.”

“You must ask, ‘What are we building together?’ What does God want this union to produce? What is the assignment of this home? What are we carrying together?”

“Think of a company. A company may have people with different departments, different skills and different responsibilities. But everybody is ultimately moving toward one mission.”

“That is what one flesh requires. Alignment.”

“Not sameness.”

“Alignment.”

“You don’t have to become the same person. But you must learn to walk in the same direction.”

He paused.

“And that takes us to Malachi chapter two.”

He turned the pages.

“Malachi 2:15 says that God made them one and was seeking godly offspring.”

“Godly offspring.”

“Now, yes, offspring means children.”

“But I want you to think beyond biological children.”

“When God brings two people together, God is interested in what comes out of that union. What spings out of it.”

“What does your marriage produce?”

“What does your relationship produce?”

“Does it produce peace?”

“Does it produce purpose?”

“Does it produce faith?”

“Does it produce service?”

“Does it produce people who know God?”

“Does it produce an atmosphere where children can grow to love God?”

“Does it produce a home that becomes a blessing to other people?”

“Or is the entire purpose simply that two people found somebody they liked and decided to live together?”

“No.”

“There is an assignment.”

“Your marriage is not merely a destination.”

“It is a platform for purpose.”

“And if you want godly offspring, then you must first become godly people.”

“You cannot demand from your children a spiritual life you refuse to model.”

“You cannot tell your children to pray when they never see you pray.”

“You cannot tell them to honour God when they watch you compromise every time obedience becomes inconvenient.”

“You cannot build godly offspring from ungodly foundations.”

“So if you are serious about what comes out of your marriage, become serious about what goes into it.”

“Become serious about your own spiritual growth.”

“Become serious about the Word.”

“Become serious about prayer.”

“Become serious about character.”

“Become serious about your choices.”

“And yes, if you are serious about raising children in the faith, then you must take seriously the faith of the person you choose to marry.”

“It is easier to build a house when the two people holding the blueprint agree on what they are building.”

He leaned back.

“So guard yourself in your spirit.”

“Do not betray the person God has entrusted to you.”

“Do not treat marriage casually.”

“Do not treat your spouse casually.”

“Do not play with trust.”

“Do not entertain what you should have rejected.”

“Do not create secret lives.”

“Because you cannot build a holy home with hidden compromises.”

His voice became quieter.

“Marriage is a serious business.”

“You can take a break from work.”

“You can resign from a job.”

“You can change your career.”

“You can relocate to another country.”

“But marriage?”

“Marriage is not something you should enter casually and then expect to survive accidentally.”

“Treat it as serious.”

“Treat the person as serious.”

“Treat the assignment as serious.”

“Because God has a purpose for your marriage.”

“And there is no point getting married if God’s purpose for that union will never be fulfilled.”

He paused.

“And this is where I want to end.”

“We already have many people lost in the world.”

“But what breaks my heart is that some of the people who grew up in godly homes are lost too.”

“People who were raised around prayer.”

“People who heard the Word.”

“People whose parents served God.”

“People who knew the language of faith.”

“And somehow, they still wandered away.”

He swallowed.

“The purpose of a godly home is not merely to produce children who can recite Bible verses.”

“It is to create an environment where children encounter God.”

“So I ask you…”

“When your children grow up, what will they remember?”

“Will they remember a home where their parents fought but never reconciled?”

“Will they remember a home where church was important but character was not?”

“Will they remember parents who preached love but could not forgive each other?”

“Or will they remember a home where they saw two imperfect people continually submit themselves to God?”

“A home where prayer was real.”

“Where repentance was real.”

“Where forgiveness was real.”

“Where love was demonstrated.”

“A home that made Jesus believable.”

He paused.

“Because we cannot simply say, ‘I raised my children in church.’”

“And then one day, when they are far from God, we begin a search party asking, ‘Where did we lose them?’”

The meeting was completely silent now.

“Parents, do your work.”

“Couples, do your work.”

“Those preparing for marriage, prepare well.”

“Build the foundation properly.”

“Because the people who come after you will live inside what you build today.”

He lowered his voice.

“So I ask every one of you tonight…”

“Your relationship—what is God expecting from it?”

“This marriage you are preparing to build—what is God expecting from it?”

“This home you are dreaming about—what is God expecting from it?”

“What will come out of your union?”

“What will your children inherit from you?”

“What will the people around you encounter when they encounter your home?”

“Will they encounter God?”

“There is no point getting married, if everything coming out it does not serve God’s purpose.

He closed his Bible.

“And perhaps tonight, someone needs to pray a different kind of prayer.”

“Not, ‘Father, give me a husband.’”

“Not, ‘Father, give me a wife.’”

“Not even, ‘Father, give me children.’”

“But…”

“‘Father, make me the kind of person who can carry what You want to give me.’”

“Make me a godly husband.”

“Make me a godly wife.”

“Make me a godly father.”

“Make me a godly mother.”

“Make my home a place where Your name is honoured.”

“And if there is anything in this entire series that has exposed something in you—something you need to surrender, something you need to change, something you need to repair—don’t run from it.”

“Bring it to God.”

“Say, ‘Father, in everything I have heard throughout this series, in whatever way it applies to me, meet me at the point of my need.’”

“Because God is not exposing you to condemn you.”

“He is exposing you so He can heal you.”

“He is exposing what is broken so He can rebuild it.”

“He is exposing what is crooked so He can straighten it.”

“He is exposing what is weak so His strength can become evident.”

He lifted his hands.

“So wherever you are tonight…”

“Pray.”

“Ask God to meet you.”

“Ask Him to restore you.”

“Ask Him to prepare you.”

“Ask Him to heal you.”

“Ask Him to make you whole.”

“And above all…”

“Ask Him to make your life, your relationship, your marriage, and your home a vessel through which His purpose can be fulfilled.”

The Reverend lowered his hands.

“In Jesus’ name.”

“Amen.”

And across the screens, people began to pray.

Some typed quietly.

Some bowed their heads.

Some wept.

Others simply stared at the screen, allowing the words to sink deeper than they had expected.

The series had come to an end.

But for many of them, something else had just begun.

I believe the wait was worth it.

If you’re reading this, you’ve likely learned or are learning that God speaks in unexpected ways. Through scripture. Through prayer. Through people. And sometimes, through stories.

Answers is a novel that gives answers.

The kind that meets you right where you are and points you toward the One who holds all the answers.

If this story stirred something in you, you can purchase Answers right here:

https://selar.com/0w71u27014

And if you do, I pray it speaks to you the way it has spoken to others.

Until then, keep walking into your brand new day.

Don’t forget to drop your comment on this episode.

I would be reading it.

Here is the link to purchase the novel again.

https://selar.com/0w71u27014

See you next week.

Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.

-Psalms 127:1

Weeks Earlier

Faith knocked lightly on the Pastor’s office door.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

“Faith.”

He smiled.

“Come and sit.”

She took the seat opposite him.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, sir.”

“And you, sir?”

“I’m doing well.”

He nodded.

“And you are doing a very good job.”

Faith smiled.

“I see the international conferences. I see the pictures from the outreaches. You are doing so well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’m proud of you.”

Faith lowered her eyes briefly.

“Thank you, sir.”

The pastor leaned back.

“How is our protocol team?”

“Everyone is doing well, sir.”

“Beautiful. Beautiful.”

He nodded.

“Now, why did I ask you to come?”

Faith straightened slightly.

“In our last meeting, you asked a question.”

He smiled.

“What should a sister do if she has received a brother, but the brother hasn’t said anything and isn’t making any effort to say anything?”

Faith became quiet. A little too quiet.

Pastor noticed. He smiled.

“Faith.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Is that question for a friend…”

He paused.

“…or is it for you?”

Faith smiled shyly.

“For me, sir.”

Pastor laughed softly.

“Ah.”

He shook his head.

“Our head of protocol has received a brother.”

Faith laughed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Amazing. Well, since we couldn’t answer the question that day, I thought it would be good to answer it for you.”

Faith nodded.

Pastor became thoughtful.

“The first thing a sister in that position must not do is stop growing.”

Faith listened.

“You must not pause your life because you’re waiting for a proposal.”

“No. You continue to build. You continue to grow. You continue becoming the woman God is calling you to be.”

He smiled.

“And, Faith, I like what you’re doing. The NGO work. The advocacy. The way you’re balancing your career with the work you’re doing for women. All of that has opened doors for you internationally.”

He leaned forward.

“Don’t shrink yourself because you’re waiting for somebody.”

Faith nodded slowly.

“Keep becoming. Keep learning. Keep serving. Keep living. And if the person eventually comes, let him meet a woman who has continued to grow.”

Faith smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

Pastor continued.

“Secondly, don’t manipulate the situation.”

Faith’s expression became more serious.

“You may be tempted to force conversations. Create opportunities. Put yourself in his path unnecessarily.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t. If you are genuinely convinced that God spoke to you, then trust the God who spoke.”

“God does not need your manipulation to accomplish His will.”

Faith nodded.

“If He said it, He can orchestrate it.”

“You don’t have to force it. You don’t have to apply unnecessary pressure.”

He smiled.

“Of course, that doesn’t mean you should become cold or unreachable.”

Faith laughed softly.

“Be cheerful. Be friendly. Be yourself. If he wants to talk to you, let him find a warm person to talk to.”

They both smiled.

“But don’t throw yourself at him. Let God do His part.”

Faith nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

Pastor reached for his Bible.

“Now, there’s a passage I want you to read.”

He opened it.

“Song of Solomon, chapter four, verse sixteen.”

He looked down at the page.

“‘Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits’”

He looked at Faith.

“I like the Amplified version, let me read it to you.”

““Awake, O north wind, And come, south wind [blow softly upon my garden]; Make my garden breathe out fragrance, [for the one in whom my soul delights], Let its spices flow forth. Let my beloved come into his garden And eat its choicest fruits.””

“Do you understand the picture?”

She shook her head slightly.

“Think about a garden. A garden can be beautiful. It can be full of flowers. It can be full of fruit. But nobody may know what’s inside or where it is until the fragrance escapes.”

Faith listened carefully.

“And the wind carries that fragrance. It doesn’t force the fragrance. It simply carries what is already inside the garden.”

Pastor smiled.

“That is how I want you to think about this.”

“You are the garden. Your character is in the garden. Your diligence.Your wisdom.Your beauty. Your love for God. Your compassion. Your strength. All of it is already there.”

He paused.

“And when the right wind blows…”

Faith smiled.

“…the right person will begin to notice.”

“Exactly. The fragrance is to go to the beloved, so he can come into the garden and feed on the fruit”

Pastor nodded.

“And remember, the wind is often used as a picture of the Holy Spirit.”

“So you don’t have to manufacture attraction.You don’t have to convince somebody to see you.”

“When God is ready to bring two people together, He can make someone notice what they have been looking at all along.”

Faith’s eyes widened slightly.

Pastor smiled.

“Someone may have known you for months. Years, even. And when this wind finally blows on your garden suddenly, they begin to see you differently.”

“They notice your character.”

“They notice your kindness.”

“They notice your strength.”

“They begin to pay attention.”

“So, the lady might have been a sister, suddenly the brother has a ‘Have you seen my daughter moment’.

Faith tried to hide her smile.

“You know the good thing about allowing God to be the wind that carries the fragrance, it is that he carries it to the beloved. The one he has in store for you”

He closed the Bible gently.

“Sadly, there are some people their character and life is so bad that when it is their season to find a partner instead of a fragrance, they emit odour and it repels the person meant for them”

Faith smiled.

“So I just continue being myself?”

“Continue being the woman God is making you.”

He pointed gently towards her.

“And don’t be troubled.”

He repeated it.

“Don’t be troubled. Keep growing. Keep serving. Keep living. And let God handle the timing.”

Faith nodded.

“Thank you so much, sir.”

Pastor smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

Then, almost casually, he added,

“So…”

Faith looked up.

“This brother…”

She laughed.

“Yes, sir?”

“Is he a member of our church?”

Faith smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah.”

Pastor nodded.

“That makes things easier.”

Faith laughed.

“You people are seeing each other.”

“Exactly.”

He smiled.

“So who is he?”

Faith hesitated.

“He’s in the media.”

Pastor raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t ask what unit he is in.”

Faith laughed.

“I asked who he is.”

She looked down for a moment.

“Ben.”

Pastor’s face lit up.

“Ben?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah.”

He smiled.

“That’s good.”

Faith smiled too.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what God will do.”

Faith nodded.

Then Pastor asked,

“Do you need me to speak to him?”

Her eyes widened.

“Ah! No, sir.”

Pastor laughed.

“Okay, okay. I won’t… But if his eyes are not opened we will use cane to open it”

Faith laughed out. Pastor became serious again.

“Faith…”

“Yes, sir?”

“Trust God.”

He pointed gently towards her Bible.

“If He is the One who planted the seed, let Him take care of the garden. And if by any chance the person you received does not receive you, know that the Lord will not hold another person’s disobedience against you. At the end of the day, people have their will to obey or not to obey, if God does not compel people to be saved, he will not compel them to follow his choice for a life partner. One thing is sure, God does not leave his children stranded”

Faith smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

She stood.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

She turned towards the door. And she walked out.

Faith felt lighter.

She had come looking for an answer about what to do.

Instead, she had been reminded of what not to do.

She didn’t have to force anything. She didn’t have to chase anything. She simply had to keep becoming.

And if the wind of the Spirit was truly coming…

Then perhaps the fragrance would find its way to the right person.

The memories from the meeting made Faith smile as she faced the window, the ride taking them to the house for the hangout. Nothing much had been said since Ben proposed. But in her heart she said “It took a while but the Wind did His thing”

“What do you want? Water? Drinks? Food?” Mufu asked.

He was seated in his living room, looking at Cindy.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just need you to explain what the heck happened.”

Mufu nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

He got up and walked towards the kitchen.

“I can’t explain.”

He opened the fridge and reached for a bottle of water.

Then, just as he picked up a glass, a thought flashed through his mind.

Faith also said things about me too.

He froze.

She had told him things he hadn’t told anyone.

Abi God don dey follow me talk?

He shook his head.

Me? God Abeg

The thought unsettled him.

I don’t understand this.

He poured the water, then returned to the living room.

He closed the door behind him before sitting opposite Cindy.

For a moment, he simply looked at her.

“Like I said, Cindy, I can’t explain what happened.”

He paused.

“But I think the more important thing is what happened to me.”

Cindy frowned slightly.

“What do you mean?”

Mufu leaned back.

“Things became different when I gave my life to Jesus.”

Cindy watched him carefully. He placed the tray on a table before her.

“I started seeing people differently.”

“How were you before?” she asked.

Mufu gave a small, humourless smile.

“Fine on the outside.”

He looked down at the glass in his hand.

“I was slick on the outside.”

A pause.

“But I was sinking on the inside.”

Cindy said nothing.

“I buried my past so deeply that I thought I had buried it for good.”

He swallowed.

“But some things don’t disappear just because you refuse to look at them.”

His voice became quieter.

“They become chains.”

He looked at her.

“And mine were strong. They affected the way I saw people. The way I treated them. The way I saw myself.”

He shook his head.

“I wasn’t as free as I thought I was.”

Cindy’s expression softened.

“But Jesus changed that?”

Mufu nodded.

“Jesus can deliver you the way He delivered me.”

He leaned forward.

“He can change your life. He can change yours too.”

Cindy stared at him.

“This is all too good to be true.”

Mufu smiled faintly.

“I know.”

He took a sip of water.

“But that’s the explanation I have.”

For a moment, neither spoke.

Mufu looked at her.

And suddenly, memories came rushing back.

The years. The conversations. The moments they had shared.

His heartbeat quickened.

He looked away.

“The first place to start,” he said quietly, “is accepting Jesus.”

His eyes drifted towards the clock.

7:00 p.m.

And immediately, another memory surfaced.

Andrew’s voice.

One way to stay on your journey of purity is to guard your perimeter.

Protect your perimeter.

Don’t put yourself in a position where your strength can be tested.

You’re in a recovery stage.

Never lie to yourself.

Mufu swallowed.

He knew exactly what Andrew had meant.

And he knew exactly why the warning had come back to him now.

Across from him, Cindy shifted in her seat.

A strand of hair had fallen across her face.

She lifted her hand and gently moved it aside.

Mufu’s eyes caught the movement.

His heart skipped.

And suddenly, another memory appeared.

Cindy sitting on his lap.

The two of them laughing.

Him helping her move that same strand of hair away from her face while they shared small chops.

The memory was so vivid that for a moment, he could almost feel the warmth of her beside him.

Mufu looked away quickly.

His fingers tightened around the glass.

He was caught between two instincts.

One wanted to continue talking.

To keep teaching her.

To show her the Jesus who had changed him.

The other wanted to silence the conversation before his own heart betrayed him.

He took a slow breath.

Guard your perimeter.

The words echoed again.

Mufu looked at Cindy.

And this time, he understood just how difficult obedience could be.

Mufu folded his arms tightly across his chest.

A small, dangerous voice whispered inside him.

You can do it, oga.

Just one more time.

Just look at her.

Put your hand around her waist.

The memory came so vividly that Mufu shifted in his chair.

He forced himself to look away.

“So, Cindy…”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m also looking for answers.”

Cindy looked at him.

“Answers?”

“Yes.”

He nodded.

“I’m seeing you differently.”

He paused.

“Or maybe I’m seeing things differently.”

His heart was already beginning to play tricks on him.

Memories flashed through his mind.

His hands around Cindy’s waist.

The closeness.

The familiarity.

The old version of himself whispering that none of it was really a big deal.

Mufu swallowed.

“What was I saying?”

Cindy smiled faintly.

“You were saying you couldn’t really explain what happened.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

She shifted slightly in her seat.

Mufu suddenly stood.

“Please give me a moment.”

He walked quickly towards the kitchen.

The moment he was out of Cindy’s sight, he leaned against the counter.

“God…”

He closed his eyes.

“Please.”

His breathing became heavier.

“What should I do?”

He shook his head.

“What should I do?”

Then Andrew’s voice came back to him.

Clear.

Firm.

Unapologetic.

Don’t try your strength.

Call.

If you need accountability, call me.

Mufu reached for his phone.

He dialled Andrew.

The call didn’t go through.

He tried again.

Nothing.

He stared at the screen.

“Come on.”

He dialled a third time.

Still nothing.

Mufu lowered the phone.

For a moment, frustration rose inside him.

Then he whispered,

“I can do this.”

He stared at himself in the reflection of the kitchen window.

“Mufu…”

A pause.

“You can do this.”

Again.

“You can do this.”

He nodded.

“You can do this.”

Then he took a deep breath and returned to the living room.

“Yes, so…”

He sat down.

“That is it.”

Cindy studied his face.

Something was different.

“You’re okay?”

Mufu scratched the side of his neck.

“Yes.”

“You seem disturbed.”

“No, no.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m really fine.”

Cindy nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

She picked up her cup and took a sip of water.

Then she looked at him.

“Well…”

She placed the cup down.

“I think when you have the answers, you should let me know.”

Mufu nodded.

“Yes.”

“I will.”

Cindy stood.

“Thank you so much, Mufu.”

He remained seated.

She picked up her bag.

Then took a step towards him.

She stretched out her hand.

“Thank you.”

Mufu looked at her hand.

Then at her.

For a split second, the old voice returned.

You know you want more than a handshake.

Just hold her.

One hug.

You can handle one hug.

Mufu knew better.

He knew exactly where that hug could lead.

And he knew it wouldn’t end with a hug.

He stood.

He took her hand.

A simple handshake.

Nothing more.

Cindy looked at him.

Something in her eyes seemed to ask a question.

Then she smiled faintly and turned towards the door.

Mufu watched her walk away.

He saw her back.

And once again, the voice came.

Do you really want to miss out?

Before he could stop himself, his mouth opened.

“Cindy…”

She turned.

“What is it?”

Mufu froze.

His heart pounded.

And then—

His phone rang.

The sound cut through the room.

Mufu looked down.

Faith.

For one second, he simply stared at the screen.

Then he almost laughed.

Saved by the bell.

He answered immediately.

“Hello?”

Faith’s voice came through.

“Hi, Mufu. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

He glanced at Cindy.

“Is now a good time?”

“Now is a perfect time.”

Mufu exhaled quietly.

Cindy watched him, confused.

“Yes, so…”

Faith continued.

“I don’t know what your plans are for Saturday.”

Mufu’s expression changed.

“Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Well, right now I should probably be at home.”

He glanced at Cindy again.

“Maybe talking with my boys.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful.”

Faith laughed.

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you could follow me to a school outreach.”

Mufu’s eyebrows lifted.

“I want you to talk to the boys there.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I’d be so privileged to do that.”

“Thank you so much.”

By then, Mufu and Cindy had stepped outside the compound.

“Alright,” Faith said. “I’ll text you the details later, including the topic I want you to consider.”

“Alright. No problem.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Faith.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you so much. You don’t know what you have done for me”

There was a brief pause.

Then Faith asked,

“Your drama is too much, why are you thanking me?”

Mufu smiled.

He looked at Cindy.

He looked up at the sky.

How could he possibly explain?

He couldn’t tell her that her call had interrupted him at exactly the moment he needed interruption.

He couldn’t tell her that somehow, the timing felt like mercy.

“My sister, just thank you,” he said.

Faith laughed.

“Okay o. Talk to you later”

The call ended.

Mufu lowered the phone slowly.

For a moment, he simply stood there.

Cindy looked at him.

“You’re smiling.”

Mufu looked at her.

“I…”

He stopped.

There were some things he didn’t know how to explain.

But one thing he knew.

That call had come at exactly the right moment.

He looked at his phone again.

Then quietly whispered,

“Thank You, Jesus.”

He ordered her ride home.

Rere sent a reel to Doyin on Instagram.

Doyin saw the notification.

He stared at it for a moment.

Then he decided not to open it.

Because if he opened it, he would have to respond.

And right now, he was trying to steady the conversation, to give it enough space to breathe without accidentally sending the wrong message.

So he left it unopened.

On the other end, Rere kept finding herself stopping whenever she opened Instagram.

She would see Doyin’s name.

Pause.

Wonder.

Is he okay?

His responses throughout the day had been short.

One word here.

A delayed reply there.

Nothing was necessarily wrong.

But something felt different.

Eventually, she gave in.

She opened WhatsApp and typed:

Hey Big man, are you fine?

Doyin’s phone lit up.

He looked at the notification.

For a moment, he simply stared at it.

Then he thought,

Okay.

My disappearance is getting awkward.

He opened the message.

Hey, I’m good. What’s up?

Rere replied almost immediately.

You sound a little off.

Doyin paused.

Then typed:

I’m good.

He added:

Not much.

There was a short pause.

Then her reply came.

I just wanted to be sure you’re fine.

Doyin stared at the message.

Something about it made him smile.

She had noticed. Even with all the distance he had deliberately created, she had noticed.

He typed:

Yeah, I’m good. Really.

Rere replied:

Are you sure?

He typed:

100%

Rere:

Okay.

Then:

Alright. Take care of yourself.

Doyin looked at the screen.

He knew he was doing the right thing.

At least, he thought he was.

But he wasn’t entirely sure he was doing it the right way.

He locked his phone and leaned back.

For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then he looked up.

“We need to know what we’re doing.”

He took a slow breath.

“As soon as possible.”

Andrew got to their usual spot before Feyi.

He chose a table in the quiet corner and sat down.

His palms were damp.

He wiped them against his trousers, then looked at his hands again.

His right leg shook beneath the table.

He tried to stop it.

It started again.

He glanced at his phone.

Nothing. Aside Mufu’s silenced calls.

He checked the time.

Then looked towards the entrance.

Nothing.

He took a deep breath.

Just tell her the truth.

But even that felt frightening.

A few minutes later, Feyi appeared.

Her purse hung from one hand.

Her face was calm.

But her eyes carried the anger she was trying not to show.

Andrew stood immediately.

“Good evening, Feyi.”

She looked at him.

“Evening, Andrew.”

She pulled out the chair opposite him and sat.

Andrew sat too.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

“How was your day?” Andrew finally asked.

Feyi looked at him.

“I was angry for most of it.”

Andrew exhaled slowly.

“I understand.”

“No, Andrew.”

She placed her purse beside her.

“I don’t think you do.”

Another silence.

Then she leaned back.

“Please.”

Her voice was controlled.

“We both know why we’re here.”

She looked directly at him.

“Let’s get to it.”

Andrew nodded.

“Okay.”

He folded his hands together.

“First…”

He paused.

“I am sorry.”

Feyi said nothing.

“I am genuinely sorry for how I handled this.”

He swallowed.

“But…”

He looked down briefly.

“I don’t want children.”

Feyi’s jaw tightened.

“I’ve heard that already.”

Andrew nodded.

“I know.”

“I didn’t come here to hear the same sentence again.”

“I know.”

“I came because I asked you for an explanation.”

Andrew opened his mouth.

Nothing came.

He closed it again.

Feyi watched him.

“Andrew.”

He shifted in his chair.

“I…”

The words refused to come.

He shut his eyes.

His fingers tightened around each other.

For years, he had avoided this conversation.

Now he was sitting across from the woman he loved, and every excuse he had ever used suddenly sounded inadequate.

Feyi waited.

Andrew took a long breath.

“I don’t know how to explain this.”

“Start from somewhere. Anywhere.”

He opened his eyes.

She held his gaze.

“Just tell me.”

Andrew swallowed hard.

Then he nodded.

“Okay.”

He looked down at the table.

Then he spoke.

“Push, Omowumi.”

The doctor leaned closer.

“You need to push now. With everything you have.”

Omowumi shook her head weakly.

She was exhausted.

Sweat streamed down her face and soaked the hospital gown beneath her.

She had been in labour for nearly six hours.

Six hours of pain.

Six hours of pushing.

Six hours of being told to find strength in a body that had almost nothing left to give.

Augustine stood beside her, holding her hand.

“Come on, Omo mi.”

His voice trembled.

“I’m here.”

He wanted to be strong for her, but watching her suffer was becoming almost unbearable.

“Please…”

He squeezed her hand.

“One more time.”

Omowumi inhaled deeply.

She searched somewhere inside herself for the last bit of strength she had.

Then she pushed.

A scream tore from her throat.

But the baby still did not come.

She collapsed against the bed, breathing rapidly.

The doctors exchanged a look.

One of them turned to Augustine.

“Mr. Augustine, please, can I speak with you for a moment?”

Augustine followed him a few steps away.

The doctor lowered his voice.

“She can’t push anymore.”

Augustine stared at him.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s exhausted. If we continue asking her to push, it could become dangerous for her and the baby.”

Augustine’s face tightened.

“Please, nothing must happen to my wife.”

“I understand.”

“The baby?”

“We need to act quickly.”

Augustine nodded.

“What do we do?”

“A Caesarean section.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Do whatever you have to do.”

“There are some documents you need to sign.”

“Give them to me.”

“Mr. Augustine…”

“Please.”

His voice broke.

“Just make sure my wife is okay.”

The doctor nodded.

“We’ll prepare her immediately.”

Augustine signed the papers with trembling hands.

Then he returned to Omowumi.

She was barely conscious.

He sat beside her and held her hand.

“I’m here.”

She opened her eyes slightly.

“Don’t be afraid.”

He kissed her forehead.

“I’m right here.”

The surgery was successful.

A few minutes later, a cry filled the theatre.

A baby boy.

Tiny.

Delicate.

Alive.

The nurses moved quickly around him.

“Congratulations.”

But Augustine barely heard them.

His eyes went straight to his wife.

Omowumi lay motionless on the bed.

Her eyes were open.

She stared at the ceiling.

Completely exhausted.

Completely drained.

Augustine took the baby carefully into his arms.

He looked down at his son.

Then at Omowumi.

“Omo mi… (My child)”

He brought the baby closer.

“Look.”

She didn’t move.

“Your son.”

Nothing.

He gently tried to place the baby in her arms.

She didn’t receive him.

The baby’s cry grew louder.

A nurse quickly stepped forward and took him.

“It’s okay.”

She carried the baby away and began attending to him.

Augustine remained beside his wife.

He looked at her.

She looked at nothing.

The news spread quickly.

They had a baby boy.

Family members arrived.

Friends called.

People smiled.

People prayed.

People celebrated.

“Ah! The baby is so fine!”

“Congratulations!”

“God is good!”

“What a beautiful boy!”

“Look at his face!”

Everyone wanted to see the baby.

Everyone wanted to celebrate the birth.

And almost everyone asked the same question.

“Where is the baby?”

But very few asked,

“How is the mother?”

And when someone did ask Omowumi,

“How are you feeling?”

She gave the same answer every time.

“I’m fine.”

She smiled weakly.

“I’m okay.”

They nodded.

Satisfied.

After all, she had delivered a healthy baby.

What more could there be?

But underneath the smile, something was happening.

Something she didn’t yet have the words to explain.

She had carried a child for nine months.

She had endured six hours of labour.

She had undergone surgery.

She had given birth.

And yet…

she felt empty.

She looked at the baby from across the room.

She knew he was hers.

She knew she was supposed to feel something.

Joy.

Excitement.

Love.

Anything.

But all she could feel was exhaustion.

And Augustine wasn’t much different.

He held his son.

He looked at him.

Then he looked away.

Something about the birth had changed the atmosphere between them.

The baby had arrived.

But instead of bringing the joy everyone expected,

His arrival seemed to expose wounds neither of them knew how to heal.

And beneath all the congratulations, Omowumi began to understand something terrifying:

It was possible to give birth to a child and still feel completely lost.

The baby had changed everything.

ONE WEEK LATER

“They’re waiting for us,” Augustine told his wife.

Omowumi looked down at the list in her hands.

Nothing.

Nothing about the programme excited her.

She was tired.

Deeply tired.

Everything irritated her.

The noise.

The people.

The expectations.

Even the smiles felt like too much effort.

She couldn’t understand how everyone expected her to celebrate simply because two years of waiting had finally ended.

She had spent two years praying for this child.

Two years hoping.

Two years crying.

Two years imagining what it would feel like to finally hold her baby.

And now that the baby was here…

She felt almost nothing.

Or perhaps she felt too much.

She didn’t know how to explain it.

And she knew they wouldn’t understand.

Especially the older woman who had been talking for the better part of the morning.

“You will not believe it,” the woman said.

“The second day after I gave birth, I went to farm!”

She laughed.

“For Baba Ebi!”

Omowumi forced a smile.

“So I don’t understand why you’re just doing sluggish, sluggish, sluggish.”

She shook her head.

“Are you the first person to give birth?”

Another woman chuckled.

“Do you want more pap?”

Omowumi barely heard them.

The comments were meant to be funny.

Perhaps they were.

But none of them helped.

Augustine watched his wife quietly.

He was trying to understand.

But he was a first-time father too.

He was learning.

Everything was new.

The baby.

The sleepless nights.

The visitors.

The expectations.

The sudden responsibility of being someone’s father.

Then the baby cried again.

Augustine glanced towards the house.

“But they’re waiting for us.”

Omowumi sighed.

She looked at the slippers beside her.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

Then she forced herself to stand.

She slipped her feet into them and followed him outside.

Under the tent, the guests had gathered.

Someone began singing the familiar hymn:

Now thank we all our God,

With hearts and hands and voices…

The voices rose around her.

But Omowumi’s mind drifted somewhere far away.

She wanted it to be over.

She wanted to go back inside.

She wanted silence.

She wanted to sleep.

She wanted, more than anything, to understand why she didn’t feel the joy everyone expected her to feel.

But the ceremony continued.

The pastor stepped forward and took the baby.

He lifted him gently.

“The name of this child shall be called…”

Omowumi’s eyes remained fixed on the baby.

“…Andrew.”

The crowd erupted.

“Andrew, son of Mr. and Mrs. Augustine and Omowumi Silvester!”

Cheers filled the tent.

People clapped.

Someone shouted,

“Praise God!”

Omowumi smiled.

Or at least, she tried to.

She shook hands with relatives.

Accepted hugs that infuriated her.

Answered greetings.

Smiled for photographs.

But inside, she was counting the minutes.

As soon as the naming ceremony ended, she slipped back into the house.

She closed the door behind her.

Then locked it.

Augustine eventually came inside.

“Babe…”

She didn’t turn.

“People want to greet you.”

“I’m not interested in greeting anybody.”

Her voice was tired.

“I just want to be left alone.”

Augustine stood there for a moment.

He didn’t know what to say.

Finally, he sighed.

“Okay.”

He left her alone.

He went back outside and did his best to socialize.

He smiled.

Shook hands.

Received congratulations.

Answered questions.

But from where he stood, he could hear the baby crying.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The crying grew louder.

Augustine looked towards the house.

His smile disappeared.

He went inside.

He found the baby in the cot.

Crying.

His tiny fists clenched.

His face red from the effort.

And beside him stood Omowumi.

She was staring at him.

Blankly.

She hadn’t picked him up.

She hadn’t tried to soothe him.

Augustine stared at his wife.

Something inside him tightened.

“Babe…”

She looked at him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He didn’t say it angrily.

He genuinely didn’t understand.

This was the child they had waited for.

The child they had prayed for.

The child they had almost given up hope of ever having.

So why did she seem so far away from him?

Augustine picked up the baby.

He held him against his chest and tried to calm him.

IN THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOWED

He spoke to the doctor.

And slowly, the pieces began to make sense.

Postpartum depression.

It was something Augustine had heard of.

But hearing the words was different from watching the woman you loved struggle beneath something neither of you fully understood.

So he stayed.

He tried to help.

He learned.

He listened.

He took the baby when she couldn’t.

He gave her space when she needed it.

He reminded her that she wasn’t a bad mother.

And little by little…

Things began to improve.

Not suddenly.

Not completely.

But slowly.

A little smile here.

A little laughter there.

One day she carried Andrew without being asked.

Another day, she sat beside his cot and watched him sleep.

Then, one morning, Augustine walked into the room and found her holding their son against her chest.

He stopped at the doorway.

Omowumi looked up.

And for the first time in a long time, she smiled.

It wasn’t a perfect smile.

But it was real.

Augustine smiled back.

Perhaps healing had begun.

Perhaps this was what recovery looked like.

Not one dramatic moment.

Just small victories.

Small steps.

One day at a time.

Until, slowly…

The woman who had once felt lost inside her own motherhood began finding her way back.

THREE YEARS LATER

“Omowumi, I think we should have a second child now.”

Omowumi looked up.

“Second child?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him for a moment before returning her attention to what she was doing.

“I’m not interested.”

Augustine sighed.

“You heard what I said?”

“I heard you.”

“It’s been three years.”

“I know.”

“I mean, Andrew is already three.”

“I know how old our son is.”

Augustine paused.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m not ready to go through that again.”

Her voice was firm.

“I know what it took for me to come back from what I went through. I am not ready to do that again. Not at all.”

“My love…”

“Or do you want me to die?”

“God forbid!”

“My wife is not going to die, in Jesus’ name.”

“Amen.”

“And one way to make sure that doesn’t happen is to stop having babies.”

Augustine stared at her.

“If you want to adopt, I’m fine with that. If you want us to find another way to grow our family, I’m fine with it.”

She shook her head.

“But carrying another baby? No. I’m not doing it.”

Augustine wanted to argue.

Instead, he swallowed his words.

Maybe she would come around.

So he left the subject alone.

ONE YEAR LATER

He knew they had to have the conversation again.

One evening, he brought it up.

“Babe, we need to talk about having another child.”

Her expression changed immediately.

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“Then marry a second wife.”

Augustine blinked.

“Who said anything about a second wife?”

“You’re the one who keeps talking about another child.”

“I’ve been patient. I’ve tried to understand.”

“And I have made my decision.”

“Is it not my body?”

She sat up straighter.

“Are you the one who carried that baby for nine months?”

“Wumi…”

“Were you the one who had the cravings? The sleepless nights? The pain?”

“I was there.”

“Were you?”

“Yes!”

Augustine’s voice rose.

“I was there throughout the pregnancy. Every craving you had, I got it. Every night you woke up hungry, I was there. I remember getting up in the middle of the night to prepare things that had no business being prepared at that hour.”

He shook his head.

“I travelled through dangerous streets just to get things you needed. Don’t tell me I wasn’t there for you.”

Omowumi laughed bitterly.

“So now you want to take credit for being there?”

“No. I’m saying I was there because you were my wife.”

“And you should have been.”

“I should have been. I was there. I am here. And I will still be here.”

He looked at her.

“But I also want another child.”

“I don’t.”

“Then where are we supposed to get one?”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?”

“Get one from anywhere.”

Augustine stared at her.

“Are you saying I should go outside and have a baby?”

“If that’s what you want, go outside. Get a baby mama. Get whatever you want.”

She turned away.

“I am not going through pregnancy again.”

Augustine closed his eyes.

If he said what he was thinking, he would regret it.

Finally, he spoke quietly.

“We need professional help.”

“No.”

“Wumi…”

“I said no.”

“You’re pushing me.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re pushing me, and I’m telling you I can’t do this again.”

“I have been patient.”

“I know.”

“I love you. Please don’t punish me because I love you.”

“I have spoken.”

Augustine stared at her.

There was nothing left to say.

He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

The living room was unusually quiet.

Baby Andrew lay on his bed, crying.

Omowumi sat nearby, but she didn’t hear him.

Her mind was somewhere else entirely.

The crying continued.

Then, suddenly, she heard it.

The sound irritated her.

She stood abruptly and dashed towards him as if to quench the source of the noise.

Before she could do anything, Augustine’s voice came from across the room.

“Omowumi!”

She froze.

For a moment, she simply stood there.

Then she rushed forward and lifted the baby into her arms.

His little chest rose and fell rapidly.

Augustine hurried towards her.

“What were you about to do?”

Omowumi stared at him.

She didn’t know.

Or perhaps she did, but couldn’t bring herself to say it.

She sat down silently, the baby still in her arms.

Augustine watched her.

By now, he had learned that he wasn’t only caring for their child.

He was also watching over the mother.

NOT LONG AFTER

Andrew came home from pre nursery one afternoon and proudly carried his new alphabet book into the living room.

“A, B, C…”

He pointed at the letters excitedly.

Omowumi watched him.

Then her expression changed.

“Is this what they are teaching you in that school?”

Andrew stopped.

“What are they even teaching you there?”

He stared at her.

“You should be doing better.”

His little face fell.

“I can’t keep spending all this time with you and you’re not doing better.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Her voice cracked.

“I’ve already lost so much in my career, and now you want to make me lose more.”

Andrew lowered his eyes.

Before she could continue, Augustine entered.

He took Andrew gently by the hand.

“Come.”

He led him into the bedroom.

Then he returned.

“You can’t talk to our child like that.”

Omowumi looked at him.

“Who am I talking to?”

“Our child.”

“So I’m not supposed to correct him?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“You’re supposed to plant positive words into his life.”

She laughed bitterly.

“After everything I went through?”

“This is a child, Omowumi.”

Augustine’s voice softened.

“He’s supposed to enjoy his childhood. We’re supposed to guide him, not make him afraid of himself.”

“So you’re saying I’m not doing that?”

“I’m saying whatever is happening to you, we need to deal with it.”

She looked away.

“You’ve refused to get professional help.”

“I don’t need a doctor.”

“Please.”

Augustine sighed.

“Just go. Let someone help you.”

“The doctors can’t solve what is wrong with me.”

“At least let them try. So we can plan for the next one”

Silence.

Then Omowumi spoke.

“And don’t mention another child.”

Augustine stared at her.

“What do you mean?”

“We agreed we’d have three.”

“I know.”

“And Andrew is already four.”

“I know.”

“So why are we still talking about this?”

Augustine took a slow breath.

“Omowumi…”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“I have had one child. I’m not going through that experience again.”

“Omowumi, it’s been four years.”

“I know how long it’s been.”

“You barely allow me to touch you anymore.”

“Don’t make this about that.”

“Once every three months?”

She looked at him sharply.

“Just hear yourself.”

Augustine closed his eyes.

He was tired.

Tired of arguing.

Tired of watching the woman he loved disappear behind a wall he couldn’t reach.

He shook his head and walked away.

Behind him, Omowumi remained seated.

And somewhere in the house, Andrew was quietly turning the pages of his alphabet book.

THREE YEARS LATER

By then, Andrew was seven.

He had learned a lot in those three years.

He had learned that his mother could be in the same room with him and still feel very far away.

He had learned not to ask too many questions.

He had learned to read her face before speaking.

And, most importantly, he had learned that there were days when it was safer to stay out of her way.

That afternoon, Omowumi sat opposite Felicia in the living room.

Andrew had been sent on an errand.

Felicia watched her friend carefully.

“Omowumi, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“How’s work?”

Omowumi laughed.

“Work?”

She leaned back.

“I’m trying to catch up.”

Felicia nodded.

“You know those years I took away from work really affected me.”

Felicia’s expression softened.

“I know.”

“No.”

Omowumi shook her head.

“I don’t think you understand.”

She stared at the floor.

“Three years. Three years of my life.”

She looked up.

“You know that girl we started at the same level with?”

“Hmm?”

“She is becoming an MD next month.”

Felicia smiled faintly.

“That’s good for her.”

“Good for her?”

Omowumi’s laugh was bitter.

“I’m better than that girl.”

Felicia shifted in her seat.

“My CV is better. My work rate is better. I understand the business better. I was ahead of her.”

She paused.

“I should have been the one becoming MD.”

Felicia didn’t answer.

Omowumi’s eyes hardened.

“Do you know why I’m not?”

Felicia already knew where the conversation was going.

“Wumi…”

“That baby.”

Felicia went still.

“That baby slowed me down.”

“Omowumi—”

“I lost grounds because of him.”

Her voice sharpened. She leaned forward.

“I had to spend years taking care of him.”

“Feeding him.”

“Watching him.”

“Taking him everywhere.”

“Missing meetings.”

“Missing opportunities.”

“Coming back to work and discovering that everybody had moved on without me.”

Felicia sighed.

“You’re making it sound like—”

“Like what?”

Omowumi cut her off.

“Like motherhood was some beautiful sacrifice that I should be grateful for?”

She laughed.

“Please.”

Felicia stared at her.

“They kept telling me, ‘You’re a mother now. We’ll give you motherhood privileges. You can come late. You can leave early.’”

Her face twisted.

“Do I look like someone who wanted special treatment? No.”

“I wanted my career.”

“I wanted to compete.”

“I wanted to win.”

Her voice dropped.

“And instead, I became somebody’s mother.”

Felicia’s face changed.

“Wumi, that’s not fair.”

“Fair?”

Omowumi shook her head.

“Was it fair when that girl passed me?”

“Was it fair when the people I trained with started moving ahead?”

“Was it fair when I came back and had to prove myself all over again?”

She pointed towards the hallway.

“Because I had a child.”

Felicia was quiet.

Omowumi continued.

“And don’t misunderstand me.”

“I love him.”

Felicia looked at her.

Omowumi hesitated.

Then she added,

“But loving your child doesn’t mean you have to pretend you didn’t lose something.”

Felicia nodded slowly.

“I understand that.”

“No.”

Omowumi shook her head.

“You don’t.”

She lowered her voice.

“I finally recovered.”

“And even after I recovered, I still wasn’t where I should have been.”

She stared into the distance.

“It wasn’t worth it.”

Felicia’s face tightened.

“Wumi…”

“I said it wasn’t worth it.”

The words hung in the room.

Outside the door, Andrew stopped.

His hand was still on the handle.

He hadn’t meant to listen.

He had only returned from the errand.

But his mother’s voice had stopped him.

He couldn’t move.

Inside, Felicia shifted uncomfortably.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s your son.”

“I know he’s my son.”

Andrew’s fingers tightened around the door handle.

Felicia looked towards the door.

“Still… No.”

Omowumi shook her head.

“I’m tired of pretending.”

“I gave up too much.”

“I gave up my body.”

“I gave up my sleep.”

“I gave up my career momentum.”

“I gave up opportunities.”

“I gave up the woman I was.”

She took a breath.

“And nobody wants to admit that motherhood can cost a woman something.”

Felicia looked down.

Omowumi’s voice became colder.

“So I’m telling every young woman coming after us.”

“Don’t make the same mistake.”

Felicia looked up.

“Wumi…”

“Build yourself first.”

“Build your career.”

“Make your money.”

“Become somebody.”

“Reach the top.”

“Then, if you still want children, have them.”

She paused.

“Don’t rush. Don’t let a man convince you that having a baby is the greatest achievement of your life.”

Felicia could not believe her ears.

“And don’t allow one man to come and disrupt everything you’ve built because he wants a baby.”

Andrew’s eyes filled with tears.

He slowly lowered his hand from the door.

Inside, Omowumi continued.

“Because nobody tells you what happens afterward.”

“You give birth. Everybody celebrates. Everybody says congratulations. Everybody calls you blessed.”

“And then they go home.”

She laughed without humour.

“You are left with the child. You are left with the sleepless nights.”

“You are left watching other people pass you.”

“And everybody expects you to smile because you’re a mother.”

Omowumi’s eyes were wet now.

“And I refuse to do it again.”

She leaned back.

“Never again.”

Felicia looked at Wumi and asked her.

“If you were to chose between raising a child and building a career, which would you do?”

Wumi blinked. She said nothing. Felicia replied.

“Marriage and parenting is not for selfish people. It is definitely not for people who are self preserving. Everything about parenting is sacrifice. To raise a child and sustain the child till they are grown is not child’s play. But I believe whatever price one has to pay to raise a child who would grow up to do great things is worth it.”

“Says who?”

She looked straight her friend.

“This one does not worth it”

Outside, Andrew stood completely still.

The room seemed to have become very far away.

He looked down at his hands.

Small hands.

Hands that had once reached for his mother’s.

Hands she rarely held.

Suddenly, so many things made sense.

Why she didn’t hug him.

Why she sometimes stared at him with exhaustion instead of affection.

Why she became irritated when he asked questions.

Why his father was always the one telling him,

“Your mother loves you.”

Andrew had always wondered why his father said it so often.

Now he understood.

His mother had not said she hated him.

She didn’t have to.

She had said something worse.

She had said he had cost her the life she wanted.

Andrew swallowed hard.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

He wiped it quickly.

Another came.

Then another.

He looked towards the door.

He wanted to walk inside.

He wanted to ask her.

Mommy, am I the reason?

If I wasn’t born, would you be happier?

Would you be an MD?

Would you love Daddy more?

Would you smile more?

But he couldn’t make himself move.

Inside, Felicia sighed.

“It is well.”

Omowumi nodded.

“It is.”

“It is well.”

But outside that door, nothing felt well.

Young Andrew ran into his father’s arms the moment Augustine returned from work.

But the moment Augustine saw his face, his smile disappeared.

There was fear in the boy’s eyes.

Real fear.

Augustine bent down immediately.

“What happened?”

Andrew grabbed his shirt.

“Daddy…”

“Yes?”

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

Andrew looked towards the door, as though he was afraid someone might hear him.

“Does Mommy hate me?”

Augustine’s heart dropped.

“What?”

“Does Mommy hate me?”

“No.”

He pulled the boy closer.

“Andrew, your mother does not hate you.”

“Then why did she say those things?”

Augustine froze.

“What things?”

Andrew’s lips trembled.

“She told Aunt Felicia that she isn’t herself anymore.”

Augustine’s expression changed.

“She said she doesn’t want another baby because having me stopped her life.”

He swallowed.

“She said she couldn’t do the things she wanted to do because she had me.”

“Andrew—”

“She said somebody took her job because of me.”

His voice cracked.

“Is that why Mommy doesn’t like me?”

“No.”

“Is that why she doesn’t hug me?”

“No, Andrew.”

“Is that why she tells me to go away when I ask her questions?”

“Andrew—”

“Is that why she doesn’t want me?”

“No!”

Augustine pulled him tightly against his chest.

“Come here.”

Andrew finally broke.

He buried his face in his father’s shirt.

“Mommy doesn’t love me.”

“She loves you.”

“She doesn’t.”

“She does.”

“She doesn’t!”

The boy’s voice broke into sobs.

Augustine held him tighter.

“She loves you.”

But even as he said it, something inside him was breaking.

Because for the first time, he realized that his son had not merely witnessed the tension in their home.

He had interpreted it.

Augustine carried him into the bedroom.

He sat beside him until the boy’s breathing slowed and sleep finally took him.

Then Augustine stood.

He walked out.

He found Omowumi in the living room.

She was sitting quietly, scrolling through her phone.

“Omowumi.”

She looked up.

“What?”

“Andrew heard you.”

Her thumb stopped moving.

“He heard you talking to Felicia.”

Silence.

“He asked me if you hate him.”

Omowumi looked away.

“He asked me if you regret having him.”

She said nothing.

“How could you say those things?”

Her face hardened.

“Because they’re true.”

Augustine stared at her.

“What?”

“I said they’re true.”

“You’re talking about your son.”

“I know who I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“This.”

She gestured between them.

“This interrogation. This constant making me feel guilty because I don’t feel the way you want me to feel.”

Augustine laughed bitterly.

“Guilty?”

“Yes.”

“He is eight years old? He is a little boy.”

“I know.”

“Then why does he think his mother hates him?”

Omowumi’s face tightened.

“I didn’t tell him that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Augustine’s voice rose.

“He heard you. He heard you tell another woman that having him ruined your life.”

She stood.

“I was expressing how I feel.”

“You were talking about your child!”

“I am allowed to talk about my pain!”

“Yes!”

Augustine’s voice thundered across the room.

“You are!”

He took a breath.

“You are allowed to be hurt. You are allowed to grieve the things you lost. You are allowed to be angry. You are allowed to say that motherhood changed you.”

His voice dropped.

“But you are not allowed to make that little boy carry your pain.”

Omowumi stared at him.

“I never asked him to carry anything.”

“You don’t have to ask him. He already is.”

She looked away.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Omowumi whispered,

“I lost myself.”

Augustine’s anger softened for half a second.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I know you did.”

“You don’t!”

Her voice cracked.

“I had plans, Augustine.”

“I know.”

“I had a career.”

“I know.”

“I had dreams.”

“I know.”

“And then I had him.”

She pointed towards the hallway.

“And everything changed.”

Augustine swallowed.

“You’re still here.”

“But I’m not who I was.”

“No.”

He looked at her.

“But that doesn’t mean your life ended.”

She laughed bitterly.

“Easy for you to say.”

“I stayed.”

“You stayed because you’re the man.”

He stared at her.

“You think I wasn’t afraid?”

“You think I didn’t watch you suffer?”

“You think I didn’t lie awake wondering if you were going to be okay?”

His voice cracked.

“You think I didn’t lose sleep?”

“You think I didn’t lose pieces of myself too?”

Omowumi folded her arms.

“But you still got your life.”

Augustine stared at her.

“So did you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

She stepped closer.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand!”

“I don’t want another child!”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to go through that again!”

“I know!”

“Then why do you keep asking?”

“Because I want another child!”

The room went silent.

Augustine’s chest rose and fell.

“I want another child.”

He said it more quietly.

“And I shouldn’t have to apologize for wanting one.”

Omowumi stared at him.

“And I shouldn’t have to apologize for saying no.”

“I know.”

“Then why are we still having this conversation?”

“Because you’re not just saying no to another pregnancy.”

He looked at her.

“You’ve said no to me.”

Her expression changed. He continued.

“You’ve stopped touching me.”

“You’ve stopped talking to me.”

“You’ve stopped letting me into your life.”

“And every time I try to reach you, you tell me you’re fine.”

“I am fine.”

“No, you’re not!”

The words exploded from him.

“You haven’t been fine for years!”

She flinched.

“I have watched you disappear.”

“I have watched you become angry at our son.”

“I have watched you push him away.”

“I have watched him learn not to ask you questions because he’s afraid of your reaction.”

Omowumi’s eyes filled with tears.

“You think I don’t see it?”

“Then do something!”

“I have been trying!”

“No!”

Augustine shook his head.

She stared at him.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Get help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You do.”

“I don’t!”

“You do!”

“I said I don’t!”

“And I said you do!”

They stood staring at each other.

Both breathing hard.

Both exhausted.

Both wounded.

Then Omowumi said the words that would change everything.

“If you want another child so badly…”

She swallowed.

“Go and have one somewhere else.”

Augustine froze.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Omowumi…”

“I said go.”

Her voice trembled.

“Find somebody else.”

“Get a second wife if that’s what you want.”

“Just leave me alone.”

Augustine stared at her as though he no longer recognized the woman standing before him.

“You really want me to leave?”

“I want you to stop forcing me.”

“I am not forcing you.”

“You are.”

“I am telling you what I want.”

“And I have told you what I want.”

“I want my family.”

“And I want my life.”

Augustine’s jaw tightened.

“You think Andrew is the reason you lost your life?”

She didn’t answer.

“That little boy?”

Silence.

“He is the reason?”

Omowumi looked away.

Augustine shook his head slowly.

“You need help.”

“I told you—”

“No.”

He pointed towards the hallway.

“Not for me. Not even for you. For him.”

Omowumi’s eyes widened.

“Don’t bring him into this.”

“He is already in it!”

Augustine’s voice broke.

“He is sleeping in that room believing his mother hates him!”

Omowumi went still.

“He thinks he destroyed your life.”

Then Augustine said quietly,

“Congratulations.”

Omowumi looked at him.

“What?”

“You wanted your old life back.”

His voice was shaking.

“But you don’t realize what you’re doing to the life you still have.”

He turned away.

“Augustine…”

He stopped.

She seemed ready to say something.

But nothing came.

He walked away.

Behind the bedroom door, Andrew had already woken up.

He stood in the darkness.

He had heard everything.

Every word.

His small chest rose and fell rapidly.

His eyes were wide.

He pressed his hand against his mouth so they wouldn’t hear him crying.

Go and have another child.

Find somebody else.

Andrew is the reason.

The words collided inside his mind.

He looked towards the door.

Then towards his little bed.

Andrew began to wonder whether his parents would have been happier if he had never been born.

He slowly climbed back into bed.

Pulled the blanket over his head.

And cried silently.

Outside, his parents remained in separate rooms.

Two people who still loved each other.

Two people who had once dreamed together.

Two people who were now too wounded to hear what the other was really saying.

And between them was a little boy who had begun to believe that his existence was the problem.

That night, nobody slept.

Not really.

Andrew looked at Feyi.

His eyes were clouded, his palms damp against his thighs. When he finally spoke, his voice came out unsteady, like a man who had been carrying a weight far too long.

“The reason I don’t want children...”

He stopped. Swallowed hard.

“...is because I don’t want you to become less than the woman you were before you met me.I don’t want you to look at our child someday and wonder if he was a mistake. Because I know what it is to be that child. “

Feyi’s expression softened, but she said nothing. She let him continue.

“I know you, Fey. I know how brilliant you are. How gifted. I know your heart—how much you carry, how much you pour out for others.” His voice cracked. “And I don’t want you to lose any of that because you chose to have children with me.”

He looked down at his hands.

“I don’t want you to become bitter because motherhood was harder than you expected. I don’t want you to look back one day and wonder if you surrendered your dreams just to raise a family. I don’t want you to watch other women moving ahead and question whether you made the wrong choice.”

A tear gathered in his eye.

“I want you to be happy, Fey. I want you to become everything God created you to be. I don’t want you to become smaller because you became a mother.”

The silence stretched between them.

Then Feyi stood. She walked around the table, settled beside him, and without a word slipped her arms around his neck. She rested her head against his shoulder.

That was all it took.

Andrew’s tears finally fell.

“Fey...” His voice broke completely. “I know what I said hurt you. And I’m sorry I kept all of this from you. I said it because I care about you. I want the best for you. I want you to become everything God has placed inside you.”

Feyi gently released him, turned to face him, and pulled his head onto her shoulder.

“Andrew...” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I’m sorry you went through all of that. I’m sorry you watched your mother suffer. I’m sorry that what happened in your home became something you carried for so many years.”

Andrew closed his eyes as she rubbed slow circles on his back.

“But Andrew...” She paused. “I am a child of God too. And I don’t want fear to make decisions for me.”

He looked up at her.

“You saw what happened in your family, and I understand why you’re afraid. But your mother’s story is not a prophecy over our marriage. We are not your parents.”

She took his hand, her voice still gentle but steady.

“Scripture says, ‘Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from Him.’ Psalm 127 doesn’t call children a curse. It calls them a heritage. A gift entrusted to us by God.”

Andrew listened.

“And yes, gifts require responsibility. Children will require sacrifice. They will require patience. They will stretch us. There will be difficult days and tired seasons and moments when we wonder if we’re doing enough.” She smiled. “But difficulty does not make something a mistake.”

Her hand rested over his heart.

“Scripture says, ‘Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.’ Andrew, you are a warrior. And if God gives us children, they will not be interruptions to our purpose. They will become part of the stewardship God has entrusted to us.”

She continued, her voice growing stronger.

“We will raise them to know Him. We will teach them His Word. We will discipline them with wisdom. We will pray for them. We will correct them when they’re wrong. We will love them when they succeed and when they fail. And we will not assume that because we raised them well, life will never be difficult for them. We will simply trust God to do what only God can do.”

Andrew swallowed hard.

“We will plant. We will water. But God gives the increase.”

A tear rolled down his cheek. Feyi wiped it away.

“And when Scripture says we should train up a child in the way he should go, I don’t hear a promise that our children will never make mistakes. I hear a responsibility. To teach them. To model Christ before them. To pray for them. To point them toward truth. To give them a foundation strong enough for them to build their lives upon.”

She squeezed his hand.

“That is the kind of mother I want to be.”

Andrew stared at her, eyes glistening.

“I know motherhood can be costly. I know there may be opportunities I have to postpone. I know there may be seasons when my career looks different from what I imagined.” She took a breath. “But I refuse to believe that motherhood automatically means the death of purpose. God is not limited by motherhood. He is not limited by family. He is not limited by seasons. And I don’t believe I have to choose between being a woman of purpose and being a mother.”

She smiled.

“I want to serve God. I want to build. I want to work. I want to fulfil my calling. And if God gives us children, I want to raise them. All of it belongs to Him.”

Andrew lowered his eyes. Feyi gently lifted his chin.

“So don’t make that decision for me.”

She paused.

“The words your mother spoke were her reality—but we have a more sure word of prophecy. What His Word says is our reality.” She pointed at his chest. “Is your reality.”

Silence settled between them.

Then Feyi’s voice grew firm, almost like she was building a foundation beneath his feet.

“You keep looking at children through the lens of what happened to your mother. I want you to look at them through the lens of what God says. Andrew, say after me.”

He looked at her, uncertain, but willing.

“Children are a heritage.”

Andrew repeated, voice rough: “Children are a heritage.”

“Children are a blessing.”

“Children are a blessing.”

“Children are entrusted lives.”

“Children are entrusted lives.”

“Children are souls we will have the privilege of discipling.”

He repeated it, and something in his chest shifted.

She smiled.

“Now take this confession. Say it with me.”

She closed her eyes and spoke with authority:

“To the world, children may be many things, a tax, a temporary season, an ambition, a duty, a curse, a disruption or merely the natural order of life. But I refuse to align my mind with the world’s perception. I plant my feet firmly on what the Eternal Word declares over my seed.

I confess that my children are a gift of unmerited grace, a sacred trust handed down from the Father of lights, requiring stewardship, wisdom, and holy reverent awe.

I confess that they are a weapon in the hands of the Almighty, forged in the quiet of our home to disrupt darkness. They are arrows bent on the bow of faith, intended to strike the gates of the enemy and carry God’s truth into spaces my feet will never tread. They are built for spiritual warfare, designed to prevail in the battles of their generation.

I confess that they are a living sign that we are fruitful, not merely in biological reproduction, but in spiritual endurance. They are olive shoots thriving around our table, deeply rooted, flourishing under covenant grace, and bearing witness that God’s promises do not expire with us.

I confess that they are a crown of beauty and honor upon our heads. They are not our burden; they are our glory. They are the carved pillars of our house, adorned with strength, reflecting the beauty, authority, and unbroken faithfulness of God from generation to generation.

What God has declared over my children is sealed. They will fulfill their divine assignment, and no scheme of the enemy will cut them short.

So shall it be, in Jesus’ name.”

“Amen,” Andrew whispered, and something in his voice sounded lighter.

Feyi’s face broke into a grin. “Oya, smile jur.”

Andrew forced a tight, awkward smile.

She put her hands on his cheeks and spread them wide until his face stretched into a ridiculous grin. It cracked him up, a real laugh, startled out of him.

“That’s more like it. That’s my man.”

She released his face and leaned back.

“So go and buy books on parenting. You kuku like reading anyway. And I want our home to be a place where that light is taught, lived, and carried.”

Andrew stared at her, something new dawning in his eyes.

“I don’t want to spend my whole life climbing until I reach the top of everything the world says matters,” she said softly, “only to look back and realise I never built a home.”

She smiled gently.

“Come here, big man.”

She pulled him into a hug, then guided his head back onto her shoulder, locking their hands together. She rubbed his back slowly, the motion steady and soothing.

“And I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Andrew closed his eyes.

Inhaled.

Exhaled.

Outside, it was evening but to the couple who held on to eachother it felt like the first breath of a brand new day.

Author’s Note

Now, I can say we’re getting to the finish line.

Quick one.

I got an email a few days ago. The reader said they didn’t know God could speak through novels until they read my book ‘Answers’ and could feel Him speaking to them on every page.

If you’re reading this, you’ve likely learned or are learning that God speaks in unexpected ways. Through scripture. Through prayer. Through people. And sometimes, through stories.

Answers is a novel that gives answers.

The kind that meets you right where you are and points you toward the One who holds all the answers.

If this story stirred something in you, you can purchase Answers right here:

https://selar.com/0w71u27014

And if you do, I pray it speaks to you the way it has spoken to others.

Until then, keep walking into your brand new day.

Don’t forget to drop your comment on this episode.

I would be reading it.

Here is the link to purchase the novel again.

https://selar.com/0w71u27014

See you next week.

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it”

Proverbs 22:6

The executives’ meeting had started about ten minutes earlier.

The familiar Zoom screen was filled with faces.

Some cameras were on. Some were off. A few people had already settled into the comfortable posture of people expecting an ordinary evening meeting.

Andrew sat quietly in front of his laptop, his Bible open beside him.

His mind, however, was somewhere else.

He wasn’t particularly interested in the meeting.

Not tonight.

Then the pastor began to speak.

The usual humour was missing.

No teasing.

No playful comments.

His face was unusually serious.

“Fight.”

Andrew looked up.

The pastor paused.

“All of you…”

He leaned closer to the camera.

“Fight.”

Nobody spoke.

Several faces on the screen became more attentive.

“Fight for everything God has given you. Fight for the things He has placed in your hands. Fight for the things He has promised you.”

He paused.

“Hold on tightly to them.”

Andrew’s fingers moved slightly against the edge of the table.

“Look at me.”

Andrew did.

“There are some of you here who have received a word from God concerning different areas of your lives.”

“You know what God told you.”

“You know the promise.”

“You know the instruction.”

He took a breath.

“And if you allow negligence to strip those things away from you, you will feel it.”

His voice softened.

“You will regret it.”

Andrew shifted in his chair.

“I know many people have told you that God is a God of restoration.”

“Yes, He is.”

“He restores.”

“But why do you want to experience the pain of losing something before you decide to fight for it?”

Andrew lowered his eyes.

The pastor continued.

“I am your pastor, and I will not sit here and watch you make wrong decisions.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know why I feel this strongly about saying this tonight.”

“But somebody needs to hear it.”

A pause.

“I know I have taught you, and many of you have heard other preachers say that the will of God is not one person or one thing.”

“And because you have heard that, some of you have become careless.”

His voice sharpened.

“Small friction, you want to leave.”

“Small misunderstanding, you want to quit.”

“Small inconvenience, you start looking for an exit.”

“No!”

He shook his head.

“Fight.”

“Fight for the love.”

“Fight for the purpose.”

“Fight for the vision.”

“Fight for what God has given you.”

“Stay there.”

“Fix it.”

He paused.

“Fix it.”

Then louder—

“Fix it!”

Andrew’s eyes remained fixed on the screen.

“You must develop the ability to fix things.”

“Stop breaking things and running away from them.”

“Some of you are broken today because you have made a habit of running away from things that required you to stay and fix them.”

He began counting them off.

“You ran from relationships.”

“You ran from responsibilities.”

“You ran from opportunities.”

“You ran from difficult conversations.”

He paused.

“And eventually…”

His voice dropped.

“You ran from yourself.”

Andrew’s chest tightened.

“Because the same person who refuses to fix anything around him will eventually refuse to fix things within himself.”

The pastor sat back.

“Fight.”

“Fight for God’s vision for your life.”

“No, no, no.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t just sit there and watch.”

“Fight for it.”

“Martin, fight.”

A pause.

“Andrew…”

Andrew froze.

His name had come through the speakers.

He looked up sharply.

The pastor continued as though nothing unusual had happened.

“Fight for what God has given you.”

“Don’t just sit down and watch.”

“Fight.”

Andrew’s heart began to beat faster.

Feyi’s face appeared in his mind.

Her question.

Her disappointment.

His answer.

Zero.

The pastor opened his Bible.

“I know this is supposed to be a relationship talk, but I have this strong instruction in my spirit tonight.”

He looked directly into the camera.

“And I need to say it.”

“Let’s go to Genesis.”

“Genesis chapter three.”

He paused.

“Because sometimes we read the story of the fall without paying attention to what was happening around Adam.”

“When the serpent came to Eve…”

He looked around the screen.

“Where was Adam?”

Someone’s microphone briefly came off mute.

“With her.”

“Exactly.”

The pastor nodded.

“He was there.”

“He was there when the serpent was speaking.”

“He was there when the enemy introduced a conversation that would eventually destroy what God had given them.”

He leaned forward.

“And this is why I am telling you to fight.”

“If you don’t fight for the person beside you, don’t be surprised when you become part of the consequences of your negligence.”

Andrew’s jaw tightened.

“Adam didn’t have to fight the serpent with his fists.”

“He needed to fight with his voice.”

“He needed to say, ‘No.’”

“He needed to protect what God had entrusted to him.”

The pastor paused.

“Imagine if Adam had stood there and said, ‘No. You cannot speak to my wife like this.’”

“Imagine if he had fought for the garden.”

“Imagine if he had protected the instruction God had given them.”

He shook his head.

“Maybe the story would have been different.”

The Zoom meeting had become completely silent.

Nobody was checking their phones.

Nobody was looking away.

The pastor continued.

“And some of you are standing in the same garden.”

“You have something beautiful.”

“You have something God gave you.”

“You have something you prayed for.”

“You have something you once cried for.”

“But because you are tired…”

He paused.

“…you are ready to walk away.”

“Fight.”

“You can lose the beauty of your garden because you refused to fight for it.”

“And then you will spend years living with the question…”

He paused.

“What could have been?”

Andrew swallowed.

The pastor’s voice rose again.

“Fight!”

“Fight for your marriage.”

“Fight for your family.”

“Fight for your relationships.”

“Fight for your calling.”

“Fight for your business.”

“Fight for your career.”

“Fight for your children.”

“Fight for your purpose.”

“Fight for your future!”

He raised his hand.

“Your boss keeps talking down to you?”

“Fight.”

“I’m not telling you to throw punches.”

“Be excellent.”

“Study.”

“Improve yourself.”

“Prepare yourself.”

“Fight.”

“Your business is struggling?”

“Fight.”

“Your career is stagnant?”

“Fight.”

“Your relationship is under pressure?”

“Fight.”

Then his voice changed.

“The first battle you must win is the battle against yourself.”

He tapped his chest.

“Your pride.”

“Your fear.”

“Your anger.”

“Your lust.”

“Your insecurity.”

“Your impatience.”

“Your inability to communicate.”

“Fight yourself.”

“You must win the battle within before you can win the battles around you.”

His voice softened.

“Fight.”

“I need everybody to unmute your microphones now.”

One after another, they did.

“Close your eyes.”

“Lift your hands.”

“And begin to pray.”

“Ask God for strength to fight.”

“Strength to fight.”

“Strength to fight.”

“I know you know about the strength to flee.”

“You know the Bible says to flee certain things.”

“But do you know the strength to fight?”

“Do you know what it means to stand?”

“Are you ready to say, ‘I will not surrender what God has given me’?”

The meeting erupted.

Voices filled the Zoom call.

Some prayed in tongues.

Some were crying.

Some stood from their chairs.

Others paced around their rooms with their hands lifted.

The chat began filling with messages.

Amen!

Lord, give me strength!

I will fight!

The pastor’s voice rose above the prayers.

“Fight!”

“Fight!”

Then suddenly—

“Listen to me!”

The voices gradually settled.

“Just because a prophetic word has come does not mean the prophecy will land without resistance.”

“Just because you received a promise does not mean there will be no battle between the promise and its manifestation.”

He opened his Bible again.

“Jesus was promised.”

“And when He came, the enemy still fought against the fulfilment of that promise.”

“Joseph received a dream.”

“Then the pit came.”

“Then slavery came.”

“Then prison came.”

He paused.

“But the dream survived.”

“David was anointed king.”

“But there was still a Saul.”

“The promise did not remove the battle.”

His eyes moved across the screen.

“The promise gave him something worth fighting for.”

The congregation responded.

“Amen!”

The pastor raised his voice.

“Fight for destiny!”

“Fight for purpose!”

“Fight for your family!”

“Fight for the things God has entrusted to you!”

“Fight!”

“Fight!”

“Fight!”

He turned another page.

“Jacob said, ‘I will not let You go unless You bless me.’”

He looked directly into the camera.

“That’s what fighting looks like.”

“It is not always shouting.”

“Sometimes fighting is staying.”

“Sometimes fighting is praying.”

“Sometimes fighting is apologising.”

“Sometimes fighting is forgiving.”

“Sometimes fighting is having the difficult conversation.”

“Sometimes fighting is going back to the drawing board.”

“Sometimes fighting is admitting that you were wrong.”

“Sometimes fighting is asking for help.”

“Sometimes fighting is choosing to try again.”

He paused.

“And sometimes…”

His voice dropped.

“…fighting is refusing to walk away simply because something has become difficult.”

Andrew closed his eyes.

The words were no longer simply words.

They were pressing against something inside him.

Something he had been trying very hard not to examine.

The pastor continued.

“Don’t surrender because it became difficult.”

“Don’t abandon it because it became uncomfortable.”

“Don’t throw away what God gave you because you don’t know how to fix it yet.”

“Learn.”

“Grow.”

“Pray.”

“Ask for wisdom.”

“And fight.”

The voices returned.

“We will fight!”

“We will stand!”

“We will not give up!”

The pastor lifted both hands.

“Fight until you see the evidence.”

“Fight until what God said becomes what you can see.”

“Fight until the promise becomes manifestation.”

“Fight until the garden is protected.”

“Fight until your family is restored.”

“Fight!”

The Zoom call became a storm of prayer.

Andrew remained seated.

His eyes were closed.

His hands rested on the table.

He could hear people praying all around him, but somehow he felt completely alone with the words that had been spoken.

The pastor was still speaking.

“Fight!”

Andrew slowly opened his eyes.

The word remained on the screen.

Fight.

He stared at it.

And Andrew stopped asking whether he still loved Feyi.

He knew the answer.

The real question was whether he was willing to do something about it.

Mufu’s phone rang as he drove home.

“My son…”

“Iya Mufu?”

“You will not believe what happened today.”

“What happened?”

“My daughter-in-law called me.”

Mufu frowned.

“Your daughter-in-law?”

“Yes!”

“Mama, which one?”

His mother laughed. “You don’t know, abi?”

“Mama, which daughter-in-law?”

“The girl you want to marry, of course! She is my daughter-in-law already. In fact, she has started behaving like one.”

“Ehn?”

“She even sent me money. Fifty thousand naira. Fifty thousand o!”

Mufu sat up.

“Wait. What?”

“Yes o! Such a good girl. My Mufu has finally found a wife. And a very good wife at that.”

“Mama, what did you tell her?”

“What do you mean? I thanked her!”

“Mama, I have never introduced you to anybody. You’re collecting money from someone simply because she claims to be something she isn’t.”

His mother was quiet for a moment.

“So, should I reject money?”

Mufu shook his head.

“She said she wanted to appreciate me for raising a good son. Abi, you are not a good son?”

“I am.”

“Ehn! Then I will collect my reward.”

Mufu could hear the excitement in her voice.

“She said I should tell you to call her. She has been trying to reach you.”

Mufu went quiet.

His mother noticed.

“Ah-ah. What happened?”

“Nothing, Mama.”

“Nothing? You’re not picking her calls.”

“Picking whose call?”

“Are you not listening to me? Your wife called me.”

Mufu’s tone hardened.

“Maami, I don’t have any wife anywhere.”

His mother sighed.

“My son, I know you wanted to keep her a secret until you were ready to bring her to me.”

Mufu rolled his eyes.

His mother continued.

“But don’t lose this woman o. Someone who was thoughtful enough to reach out to me when she couldn’t reach you?”

“Mummy!”

“Hmm?”

“Please, stop.”

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and I don’t want to enter your matter. But whatever it is, talk to the girl.”

Mufu rubbed his forehead.

His mother wasn’t finished.

“She has been very kind to me. Very respectful. And from the way she talks, I can tell she genuinely cares about you.”

Mufu decided to play along.

“Did she tell you her name?”

“Ehn… something C… Cynthia?”

“Cinderella?”

“Rara. Cii…”

“Cindy?”

“Beeni! Exactly! Cindy.”

She sounded pleased with herself.

“Such a beautiful name. It even fits your name. Think about it on the wedding invitation and wallpaper: Mufu weds Cindy!”

“That is terrible, Mama.”

“Stay there. Our Iyawo is here.”

“She is not my wife. I haven’t even spoken to her in a while.”

“Exactly,” his mother replied. “So speak to her directly.”

Mufu sighed. There was no point arguing.

“Okay, Mama.”

“Good. Call her.”

“Motigbo. I have heard.”

Silence.

“Mufu…”

“Mummy ooo.”

“Take care of our wife.”

“Mama!”

“What?”

“She is not my wife.”

“Not yet.”

He sighed.

His mother burst into laughter.

“Come and see me soon. I want to meet this girl properly.”

“Mama, please.”

“I am already preparing.”

“Preparing for what?”

She paused dramatically.

“What else? My son’s wedding!”

“Mama…”

“I have already started telling people on the street to prepare themselves. My gele will be so big, ah! They will know me in this city.”

“Please, don’t tell anybody anything.”

“I have told them already.”

“Mama!”

“I don’t know what you people are waiting for.”

Mufu covered his face with his palm.

His mother laughed.

“Take care of yourself, my son.”

“You too, Mama.”

“And call that girl.”

Silence.

“If you like, don’t answer. Let me leave you. I have wedding planning to do.”

“Mama, please!”

She burst into laughter and ended the call.

Mufu stared at his phone for a moment.

Then he shook his head.

Cindy was a chapter he had already closed.

And he had no intention of opening it again.

Feyi finally found the strength to sit up.

Her body still felt weak, but the anger rising inside her was stronger than the exhaustion.

She reached for the phone.

Before her fingers could get to it, Cindy tapped send.

The message went through.

Hello, young man. Thank you for all that you have done. Thank you for all that I have gone through. But I cannot allow this to continue. I have to choose myself. I have to protect my heart. I have to make sure I don’t spend the rest of my life regretting this. It is over between us. We are done. Please, don’t reach out to me.

Feyi froze.

“What did you just do?”

Cindy lowered the phone.

“I sent it.”

Feyi snatched the phone from her hand and stared at the screen.

Delivered.

Her eyes widened.

“You actually sent it?”

“I told you I was going to.”

“I said I needed time to think about it!”

“And how much more time do you need, Feyi?”

“That is not your decision to make!”

Cindy folded her arms.

“You’ve been thinking. Crying, staring at your phone, refusing to eat. What exactly are you waiting for?”

“I was trying to make a clear decision!”

“No. You were looking for an excuse not to make one.”

Feyi stared at her.

“You don’t know what I was doing.”

“I know exactly what you were doing.”

“No, you don’t!”

Cindy stepped closer.

“You’re in love with a man who has made it painfully obvious that he doesn’t value you, and instead of accepting it, you’re sitting here hoping he’ll suddenly become the man you want him to be.”

Feyi’s jaw tightened.

“You don’t get to talk about him like that.”

“Why? Because you’re still defending him?”

“Because it’s my relationship!”

Cindy laughed bitterly.

“Relationship?”

“Yes!”

“What relationship, Feyi? The one where the person you claim to love is making you sad?”

“Stop it.”

“Tell me, how many times does he have to hurt you before you admit that you’re the only one still holding on?”

“I said stop!”

Cindy’s voice rose.

“No! Someone has to tell you the truth because you’ve become too afraid to hear it.”

Feyi’s eyes filled with tears.

“You think because you’re my friend, you can come into my room, take my phone and end my relationship for me?”

“I was helping you!”

“Your help is useless!”

The words landed hard.

Cindy went still.

“You had no right,” Feyi continued, her voice trembling. “You had absolutely no right to send that message.”

“You weren’t going to send it.”

“And that would have been up to me!”

Cindy’s expression softened.

“I know a lot is going on in your head, but I promise you, you don’t want to stay where you are not appreciated.”

“Exactly. I know Andrew.”

Cindy hissed.

Feyi continued, her voice steadier now.

“This is not him. Not once have I had to question his love for me. Not once have I had to look over my shoulder and wonder if he was doing the right thing. He is a good man.”

She swallowed.

“I just wish he would explain to me.”

Cindy shook her head.

“I have been in the street long enough to know. It is all a game. A facade. Pretence.”

“I am sorry if all the men you have met played you like a game.”

Feyi wiped her tears.

“But I won with Andrew. I know what I have with him. I just need to be sure of what the heck is going on.”

Cindy stared at her.

“And while you were trying to be sure, you wanted to enjoy destroying yourself?”

“That was my choice!”

Cindy’s expression hardened.

“So now I’m the villain because I stopped you from embarrassing yourself?”

“You didn’t stop anything! You made a decision that wasn’t yours to make!”

“I saved you from making the wrong one.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes, I do.”

“How?”

“Because I’ve watched you.”

Cindy pointed at the phone.

“I watched you keep quiet when you should have found your voice. I watched you pretend you were fine when you weren’t. I watched you make excuses for him. And I couldn’t keep watching.”

“That still doesn’t give you the right!”

Cindy’s voice cracked.

“Maybe I didn’t have the right.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Cindy added quietly,

“But somebody had to care enough to do something.”

Feyi stared at her.

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

“No. You didn’t.”

Cindy picked up her bag.

“You never ask for help. You just suffer quietly and expect everyone around you to pretend they don’t see it.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Neither is watching your friend destroy herself.”

“I am not destroying myself!”

Cindy scoffed.

“Then what do you call this?”

She gestured at Feyi’s tear-stained face.

“This? This is what you call okay?”

Feyi looked away.

Cindy shook her head.

“You know what hurts me the most?”

Feyi said nothing.

“I did all of this because I love you. And somehow, you still managed to make me feel like I’m the person hurting you.”

Feyi’s voice softened.

“Cindy…”

“No.”

Cindy wiped at her eyes before Feyi could see the tears gathering there.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did.”

Cindy walked toward the door.

“Cindy, wait. Don’t go.”

Cindy stopped but didn’t turn around.

“I know you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Then what are you?”

Cindy finally looked back.

“I’m hurt.”

Feyi swallowed.

Something shifted inside her.

It was as though she had been trapped in a fog since everything with Andrew began, too overwhelmed by fear and confusion to even hear herself think.

But now, suddenly, she could.

And she found her voice.

“Cindy, you crossed a line.”

Cindy felt the change immediately.

Feyi’s voice was no longer weak.

It was clear.

Bold.

Assertive.

“You took my phone. You sent a message to a man I love without my permission.”

Cindy’s face tightened.

“I know. Tell me something new.”

“No. You listen to me.”

Cindy fell silent.

Feyi held her gaze.

“You don’t get to decide whether I’m better off without him. You don’t get to decide when my relationship is over. And you don’t get to use my pain as permission to take control of my life.”

Cindy’s lips parted, but no words came.

Feyi continued.

“I know you were trying to protect me. I know you love me. And I appreciate that.”

She looked down at the phone.

“But you hurt me too.”

Cindy’s eyes filled with tears.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

Feyi looked back at her.

“But meaning well doesn’t make what you did right.”

Cindy nodded slowly.

“Maybe it doesn’t.”

She turned toward the door.

“But I hope one day you understand that I did it because I couldn’t stand watching you disappear inside this relationship.”

“I understand.”

Feyi’s voice softened.

“But this is still my decision to make. I will love you, Cindy, but I need you to respect that.”

Cindy looked at her for a long moment.

Then she stepped outside.

“Cindy…”

Cindy paused.

Feyi almost called her back.

Almost.

But she didn’t.

The door closed.

Feyi stared at it.

Then she looked down at the phone.

The message was still there.