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Four chapters in two chapters. 😩

Chapter 71

Unedited

Saturday

Kilahi groaned loudly as her alarm rang, the shrill sound cutting through the remnants of her dreams. She squinted at her phone, the alarm notification  glaring back at her: 4:50 AM.

It was time to pray, a sacred ritual she cherished, but the weight of yesterday's activities clung to her like a heavy blanket. The week had been a whirlwind of preparations, from dress fittings to last-minute meetings with vendors, and all the drama included. She felt utterly drained.

She had heard countless stories of brides waking up early, bubbling with excitement and anticipation for their big day. But for her, the thought of rising with the sun felt more like a chore than a celebration. All she wanted was two more hours of sleep to shake off the fatigue that had settled deep in her bones. Yet, she knew she couldn’t negotiate her time with God; that was a sacred commitment she held dear.

With a reluctant sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet meeting the cool floor.  She picked up her devotional and Bible, their familiar weight comforting in her hands. As she walked back and forth across her small room, she muttered softly in the spirit.

Deja knocked softly on Bimbo's door before stepping inside. The sight that greeted her was Bimbo in a kneeling position, deep in prayer. Deja decided to wait patiently on the edge of the bed until her friend finished.

After a few moments, Bimbo glanced up, a playful smile breaking through her solemnity. "This one you're here,  did you see me in your dreams?" Shee teased but Deja chuckled, shaking her head. "Good morning to you too," She replied, the tension in the air dissipating as they both laughed.

"Sorry for the interruption," Deja apologized, fully climbing on to the bed  and sinking into it. "I really needed someone to talk to."

Bimbo's expression shifted to concern. "Are you okay?"

Deja nodded, though her eyes betrayed her turmoil. "I’ve just been reminiscing about a wasted life," She admitted,  "I feel so lost. It’s Papa’s wedding today, and... I won’t lie, I’ve been awake since three, beating myself up over all the times I’ve embarrassed myself." She covered her face with her hands, shame washing over her.

"Adejare! I thought we were past this," Bimbo replied in exasperation, she thought Deja was over this issue!

"I know," Deja sighed, peeking through her fingers. "But I can’t help but wonder how many people will smile at me today while secretly remembering all those times I thought I was the first lady, only to find out I was the punchline. They'll be smiling at me but low key laughing in their mind."

"Not everyone will..." Bimbo trailed off looking for encouraging words to boost her confidence. She suddenly burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Permit me to be the first to laugh," She said, mimicking Deja’s one time dramatic flair: "Just wait until I become Mrs. Gbadamosi George! You just wait!" She struck a pose, her laughter infectious.

"Really?" Deja raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto her face despite her earlier distress.

"What was that thing you always say? 'I haven’t wasted five years of my life to stay an usher forever!' Or, 'Wait till I become Mrs. Adejare Gbadamosi George!'" Bimbo imitated her with exaggerated gestures, making Deja laugh despite herself.

"I thought I could find solace in you, and all I get is mockery, Bimbo you're not well." Deja said, feigning annoyance.

Bimbo laughed again, shaking her head. "Sorry, but if there's any consolation, I wasn't thinking of it until you reminded me!" Bimbo confessed.

"That means everyone who knows will be thinking of it and laughing at me too." Deja pouts like a baby.

"Keep your chin up! Or do what I do, make a joke about it before they do," Bimbo suggested, her tone lightening the mood.

"I’m not you," Deja replied, rolling her eyes. "You always have something clever to say Bimbo, even though they're always annoying but today is just somehow. Is it the wedding or did your brain go on holiday or something? I need good ideas! I need something to help me avoid this problem."

Bimbo leaned in closer, her expression turning serious. "I don’t know if this one will work, but it depends on you."

Deja’s eyes widened with curiosity. "What is it?" "Okay," Bimbo said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "First off Deja, you'll get out of the house. When you go outside, find the center of the church," Bimbo answered and Deja raised her brow confused, "Why?"

"That's what I'm trying to explain. When you get to the center, pray to God for rain—like Elijah prayed for fire—and when you see the lightning, I use God the father to beg you, make sure it strikes you! That way, you’ll have super powers, super invincible powers, and when you go to church, you’ll see everyone oh, but they won’t be able to see you!" She snapped her fingers dramatically.

"You'll be Deja the Invincible!" She added, her laughter ringing through the room.

Deja rolled her eyes, laughing. "I should have known you were up to no good." "You wanted good advice, right? If you get superpowers, you'll be killing two birds with one stone."

"You're a clown Bimbo. That has to be your superpower." Deja snapped laughing.

"Well, you asked for it!" Bimbo replied, still chuckling. But then, her expression shifted, and Deja noticed the seriousness.

"What happened?" She asked, her laughter fading.

"I had a dream," Bimbo said, her voice low. "It was about Bella."

Deja blinked, surprised. "Bella? What about her?" "First off, I began to wonder why I dreamt about her, but then I realized that as the Chief Usher, there’s a lot I can do within my jurisdiction. I feel like that’s what God is rooting for," Bimbo explained, her brow furrowing in thought.

"I know Bella is unpredictable, but do you think she’ll do something crazy, like scream 'no' when the pastor asks the question?" Deja asked, concern creeping into her voice.

Bimbo shrugged, her expression serious. "I don’t know, but hell has no fury like a woman scorned," she replied, and Deja nodded in agreement.

"What do we do? Should we stop her from coming? How would that make us look? She might go to her tabloid and dish out some catchy headline," Deja said, her mind racing.

"Boya, it’s headline, handline, footline, or bumbumline—the bottom line is I don’t care as long as she doesn’t do anything that will jeopardize the wedding. We need to be on the lookout," Bimbo said firmly.

Deja shrugged, feeling overwhelmed. "How? The church is huge, and it’s just you, me, and Ade. We can’t completely block the whole place. Unless you involve the entire ushering team."

Bimbo paused, considering the idea. Deja gasped, realization dawning on her. "You’re not thinking of it, are you?"

"Babe, we’re going to need a whole army for this. Why not recruit them?" Bimbo suggested, lifting her phone with determination.

Deja watched as Bimbo opened the protocol group chat, her fingers flying over the screen. "Good morning, everyone! It’s our wedding day! I know I already instructed us to come in by 8:30 am since we covered a lot yesterday. Can we converge by 8 instead? I have an important announcement to make. It’s a matter of urgency, and it will determine whether the wedding goes smoothly or not. Muah! Thank you, you guys are the best!"

Deja felt a surge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could pull this off together.

Hilary, clad in a stunning red knee-length A-line gown, dipped her shoe into her bag, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric as she quickly checked her Uber app for the nearest ride. After a moment of scanning, she booked the ride, her heart racing with excitement.

"Ossy Biko, come out of the toilet! You're taking forever! Are you pooing for me?" she called out, her voice laced with playful annoyance. As she waited, her phone buzzed incessantly with WhatsApp messages. There was barely enough time to sift through them all, but she couldn’t resist checking Kilahi's status. A smile curved her lips as she read the cheerful update.

My twin is hitched!

She didn't see it coming. What was she saying here sef? I think she was saying, "You! So you were in on this too?"

Congratulations!!! Hilary et Manny. ❤️

Afterward, she scrolled through Aunty Toyin's post, her eyes lighting up at the words:

Congratulations to our Iyawo! Lines are falling in pleasant places for you, dear. But Iyawo, who will bodyguard your wedding gift?

Hilary chuckled and quickly commented with a laughing emoji, her fingers dancing over the screen.

😂 Amen and Thank you, Ma!

Just then, Ossy emerged from the bathroom, laughter bubbling from him. "Mummy said, 'Are you pooing for me?'" He repeated, and she couldn’t help but smile.

"The poo was refusing to flush! I flushed twice, and it did odeshi four times, so I had to use a bucket," He explained, his face a mix of exasperation and humor.

"That's why I keep telling you to drink more water, it's because you don't drink water." She replied, creasing her brow as she realized she was starting to sound like a typical African mother. The thought made her chuckle inwardly; she couldn’t believe she was adopting those familiar phrases!

"I think I know how giving birth feels like," he complained, and she burst into laughter.

"Why on earth would you say that?"

"My anus is paining me!" He exclaimed dramatically.

"Trust me, you have no idea what childbirth feels like," She said, still giggling. "Remind me to get you some fruits on our way." She gestured with her fingers, then glanced at her own hand. The diamond ring sparkled brightly, catching her attention.

"This ring is such a distraction. The nearest Uber is fifteen minutes away. I hope you've packed everything—your shoes, your suits, your Ankara?"

"Done," He replied, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace.

"What was that for?" She asked, surprised.

"For saying yes to Daddy. I can't wait for us to start living together as a family," He replied, his voice filled with genuine excitement.

Hilary smiled, but her phone rang, interrupting the moment. She paused before answering, "Good morning, Mom." "Good morning. Why did I have to hear from someone that my daughter has been engaged?" Her mother’s voice came through, sharp and inquisitive.

"Who told you?" Hilary asked, her heart racing.

"Your cousin. She saw it on your status."

"I posted it for everyone to see! Besides—"

"Oh, ngwanu, I'm now everybody." Her mother interrupted.

"No! Mom, we ended the party late last night. I said I’d call you this morning, but I’m rushing to prepare for Kilahi's wedding. You know Kilahi, right?"

"ImThe twin that I didn’t give birth to," Her mother replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in her tone.

"Yes, it’s her wedding day, and there’s so much to do. I’m really sorry, Mom."

"Who are you engaged to?"

Hilary scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Really, Mom? It’s Manny."

"The one that has ola in his name. Ndi Ofe mmanu? (The people of oily soup?)" Her mother exclaimed, her tone incredulous.

"Mummy! Stop this! You’re not tribalistic," Hilary protested, trying to keep the conversation light.

"You married Odefa, an Igbo man. If your fellow Igbo can treat you like they did, imagine."

"Mum, God has led me to a wonderful family. They love me, they love my son, and Manny loves my son. You should have seen his family at the party; they came to support me. God has brought me to my rest."

Her mother sighed, "I just want the best for you. I don’t want to see any man treat you wrongly. Have you taken time to study this man? I know I have the tendency to ask those annoying questions that parents ask when they want to see their children married but have you really done your investigation?"

"Manny is different," Hilary insisted.

" Odị mma (it is well), if you say so. So he had the nerve to propose to my daughter without knowing her family?" Her mother challenged.

Hilary gasped, rolling her eyes playfully. "Mom, I dated him without your approval." "He has to know your family," Her mother insisted.

"We're taking it slowly," Hilary replied, trying to calm the situation.

"Send me his number," Her mother demanded.

"Mummy," Hilary started, but her mother cut her off. "I say send me his number," She snapped, ending the call abruptly. Hilary exhaled, shaking her head in disbelief, just as her phone rang again. It was the Uber driver.

"Is this Hilary?" The driver asked.

"This is she. Where are you right now?" She replied.

Bella perched at the edge of the window, as she took a long drag from her cigarette. The smoke curled lazily into the air. She had lost track of time, her mind was clouded with thoughts, memories unfurling like a tattered book,all over the place.  Her gaze drifted to the entrance of the building just as a car rolled through the gate. Memories flooded her mind, vivid and intoxicating, of the day Gbadamosi had stepped out of a similar car, his presence commanding and magnetic. The line between reality and illusion began to blur, and she felt herself slipping into a reverie.

“Bella! What in the world are you doing?” Tito’s voice sliced through her reverie like a hot knife through butter. He had shut the window abruptly, the old frame squeaking in protest. Standing beside her, he wore only a pair of tight black shorts that accentuated the contours of his body.

She rolled her eyes, unfazed. “Why are you just standing there, Bella? What if someone sees you?” His voice was taut with concern, yet his eyes reflected a hint of frustration.

“Who doesn’t know you’re cheating on your precious Ngozi?” She tossed the words back at him, her lips curling into a sardonic smile as she flicked ash from her cigarette. Tito rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“Nneka!” He corrected, pointing at the window as if it were a crime scene. “You didn’t have to stay there.” She paused pressing the cigarette against the wall, his eyes complained but she care less! Then she placed it on the wooden dash of the dresser.

With a sudden burst of energy, Bella pushed him back onto the bed, her laughter ringing out like a challenge. “Whatever,” She said dismissively, launching herself onto him with a playful bounce, her fingers trailing across his chest. “What is it about ugly women that moves men to marry them?” She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tito let out a short laugh, his hard expression softening for a moment then he sat up. “Good character, I guess. You look at them and just know they can raise your children well. Nneka is not ugly,” He answered, punctuating his point with a nod, though the skepticism in Bella’s eyes told him she didn't buy it.

She scoffed, her eyes narrowing. “I still don’t see what Gbadamosi fancies about her,” She scoffed, tilting her head as if pondering an unsolvable riddle. “She’s a virgin. I bet the sex is going to be terrible!” Her laughter was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Wasn't your first time terrible?" He asked and she frowned, "How is it your business?" She barked,  "Madam chill. This thing is bringing out the animalistic part of you. It's cool in bed but not when it's beginning to reflect in what you do.  Just let go already.”

“I’m not going to,” She retorted, her voice low and determined. “Until I tarnish their image, I won’t rest.” A sly smirk crept across her face, and Tito raised an eyebrow, sensing mischief.

“What are you planning?” He asked, curiosity piqued.

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “If I tell you, I might have to kill you,” She teased, biting her lip as she looked him in the eye.

Tito rolled over, now pinning her beneath him, his expression serious. “Cut it off! If you need someone to advise you, you know I’m your go-to guy.” “Lately, you’ve been losing your touch,” She shot back, her tone playful yet challenging.

“Ask me for professional help; I’ll offer you one not a plan to set a bomb,” He replied, a grin breaking through his feigned seriousness.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “News is going to break out that I’m Gbadamosi’s side chick,” She declared.

“On your blog?” Tito asked, finding it hard to believe her.

“No. Someone will influence it, there'll be pictures of him looking at my cleavages in church. Even though he doesn't want to look, he has to, I'll so much flaunt around him with a camera until he does look at me. Then I’ll come out one week later as the victim. He promised me marriage, but the elders of the church didn’t think I fit into the image of the church, and they tried to silence me.” She feigned tears, her voice quivering with faux emotion.

“Wow. Where’s your strong proof?” He asked, crossing his arms, skepticism etched on his face.

“I have a doctored recording,” She replied, wiping away her fake tears with a flourish, her confidence returning. "Imagine people piecing all story together. You know Nigerians can overthink ehn, I can imagine some section of people saying, no wonder she started going to his church. No wonder they were at this event together, no wonder she planned his mother's birthday, no wonder this, no wonder that. Even without evidence, they'll be the one to give flesh to the rumours. Imagine a new marriage going through scrutiny under the microscope of the press. People are going to troll the wife! Is it true your husband has a side chick? Have you always been aware of it, did she choose you over her? Is this some sort of arranged marriage?" She could literally picture everything happening in her mind. She bubbled with so much excitement.

“I thought Gbadamosi had something against you,” He pointed out, his brow furrowing in thought.

“According to Tega, my special source," "Special source indeed!" "Special sauce and special sauce!" She winked at him laughing hysterically.

"He's irritating but he does get the job done." She confessed brushing her fingers through the terrain of his chest.

Tito scoffed and she felt offended , "Who are you to judge me? I'm not even you're fiance and I'm in your bed." "You're a woman!" "Shut the fuck up! Do you want to know my plans or not?" She asked and he resolved to listening.

"Gbadamosi usually gives his phone to the media to put in significant pictures during service. They know his password,” She explained, her voice laced with triumph.

He laughed, genuinely impressed. “He clearly doesn’t have anything to hide.” “My point is," She interupted rolling her eyes, "There’ll be a tragic mistake today. Tega is going to wipe his phone clean,” She said, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Won’t that be suspicious?” Tito asked, his tone cautious.

He could see the plan taking shape in Bella’s face, and it felt…wrong.

Bella waved a dismissive hand, the gesture quick and airy. "That's not my business; it's Tega's wahala," she said, her words clipped, cutting through the air like a sharp knife. She shrugged as if the consequences were utterly insignificant to her.

His lips tightened, a small line of concern appearing between his brows. "Does this Tega know you're this selfish, Bella?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, but beneath it, a hint of something more serious. He knew if Tega was in on this scheme, he was either a fool or completely taken with Bella.

Bella scoffed, her expression shifting from smug to hardened. "The guy is a complete and utter fool, Tito, let's be honest!" she retorted, her tone dripping with disdain. She flicked a strand of dark hair from her face.

"A fool you're sleeping with," Tito snapped back, his voice hardening, the playfulness gone, replaced by a sharp edge. Bella has always had the  attitude of using people. She let out an exasperated sigh, her shoulders slumping for a fraction of a moment. She rolled her eyes heavenward,“Don’t be such a godamn party pooper. Only if he's smart enough to allow something bad happen to the phone or he lies that a strange virus is responsible for it."

“I don’t like the idea of trying to ruin Gbadamosi’s image. He doesn’t deserve it,” Tito countered, his voice firm, a hint of concern etched on his features. He felt a moral obligation to intervene.

“I don’t deserve the heartbreak either,” Bella shot back, her eyes narrowing as she leaned closer, her voice low and intense.

“This is going to come back to bite you in the ass. He’s a man of God. Have you heard, ‘Touch not my anointed’?” Tito warned, his tone almost pleading.

“Spare me the sermon!” Bella snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “When his members start leaving the church, he’s definitely going to come to terms with me.” She leaned back, crossing her arms defiantly, a fire igniting in her eyes.

Tito stared at her in worry, "I think you should have yourself checked out. I suggest therapy." "Shut up!"

The assistant event planner, Priscilla, a slender woman clad in a sleek burnt orange duchess silk gown, entered Kilahi's room with a sense of urgency. She had expected to find the bride still in the throes of preparation, perhaps wrestling with her hair or makeup. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of Kilahi, already radiant in her white robe, her makeup flawlessly done. A standing fan blew gently in her direction, creating a soft, ethereal effect as the hair stylist, Brenda, and Sefa snapped pictures, capturing the moment.

In a corner, Sewuese was diligently applying her own makeup.  "You're done with your makeup already?" Priscilla asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise. Kilahi turned to her with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Priscilla," she replied, her voice light and cheerful.

"Good morning to our beautiful bride! You just completely ruined every rushy vibe  I came with," Priscilla chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. "Normally, by this time, our brides are usually still installing their hair or  caught in a battle between the hairstylist and makeup artist over who gets to pamper her first."

Kilahi shrugged playfully. "I’m not really the heavy makeup type, and the hairstylist arrived early. Plus, I believe the bride doesn’t have to arrive late."

Priscilla laughed, "That’s a first! Should I say you look stunning? Who’s your makeup artist?" "Thank you," Kilahi replied, gesturing toward Sewuese. "That’s Sewuese over there."

Sewuese waved her brush in acknowledgment, and Priscilla smiled at her. "Well done, Ma! You did a beautiful job on the bride's face. It’s simple and lovely." "Thank you," Sewuese replied, her pride evident in her voice.

Priscilla, exuding an air of professionalism, pulled out a sleek tablet from her bag, her fingers gliding over the screen as she prepared to share the day's itinerary. "Alright, our dear bride, let’s go over the schedule for today. I want to ensure that everything is perfectly organized for your special day. First things first, I hope your bridesmaids are ready and looking fabulous because we have a busy morning ahead of us! At 9:00 AM sharp, we need to be at the hotel for the photoshoot with the groom. The hotel is conveniently located just a short distance from the church, so we should have no trouble getting there. Now, I want to emphasize the importance of timing. We should aim to leave the hotel by 9:45 AM at the latest, which will give us a little buffer for any unexpected traffic. Our goal is to arrive at the wedding venue by 10:00 AM, give or take a few minutes late. The church ceremony is scheduled to wrap up by noon, and as soon as it does, we’ll transition to the reception venue. I want to make sure we’re all set to start the reception on time, as we have a lot planned for the afternoon. Pastor Gbadamosi George has mentioned that he would like everything to conclude by 6:00 PM, so we’ll be working towards that timeline. I know it sounds like a lot, but with everyone’s cooperation and a little bit of hustle, I’m confident we can make it happen."

Kilahi smiled, "I'm committed to help in any way I can." "How are you feeling about everything? Is there anything specific you’d like to discuss or any last-minute details you want to go over before we dive into the day? Your happiness is our top priority!" She smiled warmly, ready to address any concerns the bride might have, ensuring she felt supported and excited for her big day.
Kilahi took a deep breath, her excitement palpable as she nodded in agreement. "I feel great about the schedule! It sounds like you have everything under control. I just want to make sure that my family gets treated well. I hope their seats have been well sorted."

Priscilla nodded, "Yes Ma'am but we'll brush over it to make sure there's no oversight." "I'm not asking for preferential treatment for my family and friends, I want them treated right. I know there'll be a lot of big names at the party and there might be that temptation to attend to them out of courtesy but I would hate to whiff any form of preferential treatment because of a certain way some of my people may be dressed. They can be very traditional but I won't accept any form of partiality."

The lady nodded, quickly typing on her tablet, her focus unwavering. "Absolutely! I'm sending out a message to my team in charge of that. Any parking instructions you might want to include? It’s important that everyone is on the same page, especially with the timing." She paused, looking up to gauge the bride's reaction.

"You might have to talk to my father." "Noted. Is there anything else you’d like to add?"

Word foundation church

Ade 👆🏼

Some of the ushers gathered in the church conference room, waiting for Bimbo to address them. They were all clad in burnt orange gowns and stunning green fascinators. The men wore orange suits, white shirts, and green ties—except for Ade, who was clearly marching to the beat of his own drum with a  stripe tie.

As they waited, Deja couldn't help but voice her frustration. "Seriously, Ade? It’s a green tie! Look at Obinna; he’s rocking it!"

Ade shrugged, a smirk on his face. "Ask him if he actually likes it."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "It doesn’t matter if he likes it! It’s auniform! No matter how ridiculous it looks." "So you’re admitting it looks ridiculous?" Ade shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Deja huffed, "Don’t twist my words, Ade!" "Not that I didn’t wear the tie," He continued, "But the moment I did, I felt like a Keke Napep that got lost in India. I was just waiting for a trailer to come along and mistake me for a traffic cone! Or maybe they’d charge me for loitering! I didn't want to risk being mistaken for a tricycle and getting 'towed' away, so I decided to spare the tie... and myself!"

The room erupted in laughter, except for Deja, who was desperately trying to suppress her giggles. "Besides, I gave life to the outfit" He added. "You gave life to the outfit or you just changed the uniform?" She teased.

Ade leaned in, feigning seriousness. "God saw the light and said it was good. Ade saw the style and said, ‘Not today, Satan!’ I swear I heard a voice in my left ear saying, ‘My son, my son, change the green!’ and as the good and faithful servant that I am, I said ,'Yes Lord.'"

More laughter filled the room, and Deja shook her head, trying to keep a straight face. "That’s blasphemy, Ade!" "It’s just a joke! But honestly, the orange and green  wasn’t giving anything good. It was giving the whole ‘reflector jacket’ vibe. I came here for a wedding, not to audition for a factory job!" Ade exclaimed, throwing his hands up in mock despair.

Deja busted into laughter, "Ade!!" "Where's Chief Bimbo?" He asked and Bimbo walked in apologizing for coming late. Her gaze fell on Ade's tie and she rolled her eyes, "Ade, the instruction is wear orange suit and traffic light green, emphasis on traffic light green cause I know that all men have color blindeness. So that patapata if you want to say you don't now know how green looks like, at least anytime you jam traffic in this Lagos, except you're not staying in Lagos, you will definitely remember the color. Cause the way they wire you men, it's like God did not add color to the clay mixture that he used cause I don't understand why Brother Lanre will be telling me pe maroon and Brown are the same family?" She exhaled trying to catch her breath.

"Look at you now, simple orange and green, you’ve turned it  into a courtroom drama. I've been hearing your voice now. What’s wrong with the tie?”

Ade sighed, “I'm wearing Orange when I'm not a traffic warden, I mean, look at me! I’m one step away from directing traffic!”

Obinna chimed in, “He’s not wrong sha! Anyone that walks in here will think they walked into a traffic warden conference hall or a construction site!” He pointed out and  Bimbo laughed, “I apologize for any inconveniences, next time, I'll add safety hats so the costume can be complete." She added and everyone laughed.

"Let's dive into the meeting. Thank you all for being here, I didn't expect to see this number. May the labour of your love be highly rewarded in Jesus name.." Bimbo prayed swallowing hard, then she folded her arms, "What I'm about to say is going to sound somehow but I promise you that there's nothing fake about this news."

"Not everyone is here. Chioma isn't here." One of the ushers complained.

"She's handling the make up on the Groom's side of the family." "I'll fill her in." Ade added and Bimbo sighed, "God bless you . I'm going to need us to tighten our formation today and I'll tell us the reason why."

That morning at Word Foundation Church, and the air buzzed with joy and celebration. The choir passionately belted out the praise song after the couples have been introduced in.

🎶 This is Lord's great day, it is marvelous in our sight. This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it... This is the Lord's great day, it is marvelous in our eyes. When you see me dance, I dance like a winner man oh🎶

The harmonies of their voices soared through the arched ceilings of the sanctuary and spilled beyond the doors into the courtyard where a crowd of guests gathered. The atmosphere was alive with laughter, cheerful greetings, and the distinct sound of heels clicking against the paved floor as well-dressed congregants made their way inside.

Bella entered, her PA, a petite woman dressed conservatively in a blue lace gown, followed behind, looking slightly uncomfortable as she tried to keep up with Bella’s strides. The camera crew trailed behind them with their equipment.

She was an undeniable presence—a tall, striking woman dressed in a fitted crisscross damask gown. The rich brown fabric shimmered under the filtered sunlight streaming through the church windows. The slit at the front of her dress swayed provocatively with every confident step she took, revealing just enough leg to command attention.

Bella’s uncovered chest unapologetically claimed its space, defying the modesty expected within these walls. Her makeup was flawless—bold red lips and winged eyeliner that accentuated her sultry eyes. Her heels clicked loudly against the tiled floor, each step a deliberate declaration of her arrival. She carried herself like a woman who knew she was a topic of discussion before she even entered the room.

The auditorium was bustling.

🎶Like a winner man oh🎶

Ushers directing other guests to their seats. A few heads turned toward Bella, and everyone giving information through gazes.

As she made her way, Chioma, who had been positioned in front,  stepped in front of her, arms crossed and a stern expression on her face. “Welcome to church,” She said politely but firmly as she blocked Bella’s path, her arms subtly outstretched in a way that made it clear she wasn’t stepping aside.

“Thank you,” Bella responded curtly, her eyes scanning the sanctuary over Chioma’s shoulder. She attempted to step around her, but Chioma moved to block her again, her gaze lingering uncomfortably on Bella's cleavage. "With all due respect, I know it's a wedding and we have people from all walks of life here, but Ma..." Chioma's eyes narrowed, "If it was someone else, I would have felt reluctant but you're a worker so I can't let you in."

"Excuse you?" Bella shot back, her voice laced with irritation.

"You're a worker in church; there's a certain dress code we are supposed to abide by," Chioma explained, her tone firm. Bella tried to push past her, but she stood her ground. "With all due respect, you're not going inside."

"I'll push you," Bella threatened, her voice low and dangerous and Chioma scoffed, "You're still not going in."

Just then, Bimbo, approached, her demeanor playful yet serious. Bimbo approached briskly,hair swinging as she moved fo the song being dance . She stopped slightly behind Chioma and offered a playful, exaggerated greeting, “Bella Bella!” Her tone was light yet firm, as though attempting to diffuse the situation with calculated charm.

Bella glanced at her sharply. “What are you doing here? Go about your duty, no one called you here." “I’m taking us somewhere private where we can have a civil conversation,” Bimbo replied, reaching out to hold Bella’s hand as though to guide her away.

It was a tender moment… until Bella forcefully shrugged off Bimbo’s hand after they got out of the building. "Let go of me!"

Bimbo smiled at a guest, "Welcome to church." She exclaimed with a smile then she faced Bella, "I just want us to talk."  “I’m not having any stupid conversation with you!” She hissed.

Bimbo took a step back, regaining her balance. “Trust me,” She fired back, her voice dropping an octave, “Having a conversation with you is the last thing on my mind too. But let me ask you one question—what’s this dressing?” She gestured toward Bella's gown, her brow furrowing in disapproval.

Bella chuckled darkly. “What happened to ‘don’t judge?” Her long fingers came up to adjust her gown’s straps slightly, a deliberate act of defiance.

“That’s the only Bible verse people like you know how to quote—especially when the shoe fits you perfectly! Let me ask you this, can you even wear this to meet Deja’s parents? Tell me, when you were trying to impress them, make them think you're human,  did you ever dress this way? Let's be sincere to ourselves. Why must it be in the house of God? ”

Bella stared blankly, clearly unimpressed. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

Bimbo gestured animatedly toward her chest, her hand sweeping dramatically as her voice rose for emphasis.  "Where is the chest and rest of your cloth?" She exclaimed, her hands flying up in exasperation. "I don't even blame you; it's the tailor that forgot to write your chest measurement! She took bust, shoulder length, waist measurement—boya if she had asked you, Aunty Bella, don't you want breast? Boya you would have remembered pe! They always put chest for any kind of dress. Look at the front—it’s hanging there like you wrestled with an angry tiger, and it tore half of it off!”

"It's a crisscross, but I don't expect you to get it," Bella retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Me, I cannot get it rara! Even God cannot let me get it cause I don't understand this kind of crisscross. The only cross I know is the cross of my Lord and personal Savior. The cross was behind him; your own, you plastered it on your chest. Aha han, look at it now. When we'll be singing, the cross before me, the world behind me, this is your own definition. Newsflash Bella, the world and the cross is on your chest."

"That explains why you're persecuting me, they persecuted Jesus too." Bella shot back, her voice rising.

Bimbo gasped, "I'm not persecuting you, Bella! The summary of all this is, what's your agenda?" She pressed, her eyes narrowing.

"I came to work for God; I'm a part of the media." "I didn't ask you to explain your CV, this isn't a job interview. What is your intention? But come to think of it, you'll walk around in this, to capture moments with Papa and Mama?" Bimbo challenged, her hands on her hips."So when people are supposed to be looking at the author and finisher of their faith, it's your breast that will be a distraction."

"Is God complaining? I don't hear him complaining," Bella replied, her tone dismissive. "Maybe it's you Christians that love acting like the author and finisher too, deciding what's decent and what's not. God looks at the heart."

"Pele, and your heart is good shey?"

"Who are you to tell what's good and not good? I know what's good for me. My heart is good."

"Madam Bella, heart of Gold, weldon!" Bimbo exhaled sharply, her frustration evident. "What do you want? Let's just talk like two people who used to be friends. Let's leave all arguments aside. What do you really want?"

"I want to get in and do my job, and you're preventing me from doing it," Bella insisted, her voice rising.

"Is this part of your seduction plan?" Bimbo asked, her eyes narrowing. She framed it as a bait designed to loosen Bella's constructed defenses. She hoped it would act as a wedge, forcing a crack in the facade and revealing whatever truth lurked beneath.

Bella's lips curled into a smirk, a flash of sharp teeth. "And so? How is this your fucking business, Bimbo?" The words dripped with disdain. She took a step closer, invading Bimbo's personal space. "Don't you know your place?"

"I know my place, and it's because I know my place that I'm the right person in the place to prevent you from coming in dressed this way. Not because I'm righteous myself, but because I can see straight through you."

"So what if I have plans? Are you scared he'll fall?" Bella taunted, a smirk playing on her lips.

"How will you even get the chance? The man will be too busy with his wife," Bimbo shot back, her voice steady. "Did you hear that, his beautiful wife."

"Oh please! That ugly thing. She doesn't even have my shape. Ṣé ó ní oyan bi temi? (Does she have breast like mine?), look at this snatched waist, and no, I'm not wearing waist trainer."

"Eni to lori o ni fila, eni to ni fila, o lori! (Those that have head, have no cap, those that have cap have no head). You, with your head, with your shape, with your snatch waist, with your breast, you don't have brain,  o ko ni opolo, (you don't have sense). You're talking snatch waist, snatch waist iranu! (rubbish snatched waist), your waist has been so much snatched that oxygen does not come up to your brain cells, that's why you don't have sense."

Bella scoffed, "What will the headline be? Popular Pastor couldn't help but drool over his side chick. That sounds like good enough news to cause a traffic jam for what's to come," Bella grinned, her confidence unwavering.

"You think Papa will drool over you? Someone who saw you naked but refused you? Is it this small cleavage that will make him fall?" Bimbo challenged, her hands gesturing emphatically.

"That's not the way the tabloid will sell the news," Bella replied, her grin widening. "Who wouldn't drool over this goodness?" She flourished her hands over her form, inviting admiration.

Bimbo scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “"What do you have planned out?" "None of your business," Bella answered, attempting to charge past her again, but Bimbo held her back firmly.

"You're going to have to go back and change up, or else you're not going in," Bimbo declared, her voice resolute.

Bella scoffed, "That will make the headline sweeter." "And trust me to switch that headline and I'm not joking. If they born ten of you well, ten is even too much. If they born you well, you think you have liver? I'm gonna show you I have two. Just let my name enter into that useless blog of yours. That's the day you will know that I'm not well. Maybe that day, I will have to rededicate my life to Christ cause if I don't do what's in my mind, the part of me that God is trying to help will not rest. I know what I would have said if it was 2019, and you know, Bella, you know, hehehe!" She laughed nervously, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.

"Old things have passed away but there's a reason why every computer have recycle bin oh, don't let me retrieve the old things"

Bella paused, her expression shifting as Bimbo sensed  her underlying fear. "Do you still have them? You're bluffing," she challenged, her voice low.

"Why didn't you mention it since?" Bimbo shot back, her eyes narrowing.

"Blame 2020 for it. It's like when we Christians try to be calm and exercise the fruit of the spirit; you guys just like to pluck it when it's unripe. Well, you just plucked mine when it's ripe, and trust me, I'm gonna act like an angry landlady right now." She clicked her tongue, her expression fierce. "Bella, you know when I was in the world, that me and revenge, we're like Siamese twins, wo ko wa papo (we are joined together), 5&6," she gestured, clasping her hands together.

"You cannot see me without seeing revenge. Revenge was my secretary; it's revenge that always tells people that Bimbo wants to see. You know me! You know! It's not as if you don't know, but I dropped that life."

Bella blinked, her expression shifting from defiance to curiosity. Dhe was caught off guard. "Apparently, you didn't drop them completely, which is a good thing," She teased, touching Bimbo's arm lightly.

"I've always said all those Christian life and bullshit didn't suit you," She added, her voice firm.

"You're wrong. Oh, suit mi pa! (It suits me to death!) I love the suit but sometimes when you're wearing a suit in the bus and the driver is now looking at you like you're gentle and does not want to give you your change, what do you do? You remove it so he can see how serious you are about collecting your change. That's what I'm doing now. Aunty, two can play this game. Why don't you start with posting your headline—what should we call it, 'Pastor warns Chief Usher Bimbo not to let his side chick in?'" She paused, "Let me just see the name Pastor Gbadamosi or Bim on your blog. I don't want to know; boya it's Birmingham you wanted to spell or Bimscuit oh. Your past will be revealed on the streets of social media. Don't turn me into a blogger oh! You won't even know the ones I'll post; I'll be the one to shock you. Walahi!"

Bella scoffed, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "I was just joking about what I said, the plans and all. It's just a rant of an angry woman." "Rant?  Whether you were joking or not, it's not my business. Shebi your crew member has entered the church, shey?" Bimbo replied, slapping the back of her palm against her lower palm.

"Ko kan mi, (it's not my business.) It's not my business. You get? Pastor Gbadamosi George isn't one of those senators you can troll. Try it, and I'll troll you. I'll troll you to the point you're gonna wonder, is this girl a troll? Cause you're gonna see my ugly side, and I pray to God to keep me together cause..." She paused, shaking her head then she exhaled loudly.

"Whoa! You're gonna hate me than you do now."

"You're taking this too seriously; I only came to have a good time," Bella said, her voice softening slightly.

Bimbo sighed, her expression softening just a bit. "I'm not going to stop you from witnessing the success of this wedding, cause it's a success already lo ruko Jesu! (In Jesus' name) and seriously, I pray you get so mad today from all that anger and jealousy, but not on this dress you're wearing."

Bella rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Come on, Bimbo, don't tell me I'll have to get stuck in Lagos traffic back home. I'll miss the whole thing before I get back."

"Not my business. Sort yourself out, or you can watch it live. They're streaming it live! You should know now." Bimbo snapped, turning her back on Bella. "Don't let me see you inside. You're only going to embarrass yourself, and that's not a threat." With that, she walked inside, leaving Bella standing there, fists clenched and frustration boiling over.

"Fuck!" Bella cussed under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the  doors of the church.

Sister Joy held the microphone on the altar singing:

🎶 The Lord bless you and keep you
Make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you
The Lord turn His face toward you
And give you peace
The Lord bless you and keep you
Make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you
The Lord turn His face toward you
And give you peace
Amen, amen, amen
Amen, amen, amen🎶

Chioma whispered into Sefa's ear as she sat at the bridesmaid section. "Someone is looking for you." "Who?" She asked,  "He said you should meet him outside."

"Who?" Sefa asked again.

"I don't know."

"Did he mention a name?" She asked and Chioma shrugged. Sefa creased her brow and wondered if it was Ire. He promised to show up for the reception and not the church wedding. She whispered to Brenda then she excused herself.

She got out of the church building smiling. Just when she walked out of the compound in search of Ire, he heard a familiar voice behind.

"Please don't run away ." Alonso begged, "J promise I'm not here to hurt you." He assured.

A memory jolt through her, "Make a single noise and I'll blow your fucking brain off."

Sefa wanted to dip her hands in to remove her pepper spray then she remembered she left her handbag in the church.

She wanted to scream but she felt choked. She turned towards him, her heart racing as she gently moved backwards. "Please don't run away, I beg you, please don't scream or run away, I just want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you." She wondered why she wasn't screaming. Why wasn't she screaming her head off so people can come to her rescue?

He's a soul..... She got an answer from within.

He is a soul...

Alonso approached her and she stretched her hands at him, "Move back! I swear if you move close to me, I'll scream. There are police escorts in the church building."

"I know. Why will be here? Why will I risk it all to be here when I can be elsewhere?"

"Maybe because you want to kidnap me." Sefa answered.

Alonso exhaled in defeat, "You can call the police if you want. All I want is for you to hear me out." "What do you have to say?"

"I have questions, I can't sleep peacefully, I can't think, I've have no peace since the day you burnt Boss' hand "

Sefa blinked, "Wait, what? I didn't do that." "Maybe you don't know but there was this night Boss wanted to do the usual do, where he sleeps with you spiritually. His hands got burned."

Sefa gasped, "Jesus Christ." She exclaimed in shock.

"I just want to talk."

The Abani market pulsed with a chaotic energy. Vendors hawked their wares and the rumble of overloaded trucks filled the environment. Ray, his senses on high alert, navigated the throng. He felt the weight of unseen eyes on him, a familiar pressure he’d grown accustomed to in this dangerous game. He finally reached a rough wall, the plaster peeling away in patches like old skin. It was a relatively secluded spot amidst the chaos.

The rough brick wall offered little comfort so Ray leaned against it. The young boy from the last time, stood beside him, a mirror image of nonchalance.

"Good morning Uncle." He greeted embracing him so it could look real.

"What's the plan?" He asked, his voice a low murmur, eyes darting nervously around.

Ray leveled a sharp look at him. "Don't look around." He cautioned and the young boy's gaze fell on him.

"Sorry Sir. How are you, Uncle Ray," He asked, his voice laced with dry sarcasm. "Cut the crap. What's the plan? There's no time. "

The boy’s lips twitched into a nervous smile. "There's an ongoing call, Sir, on loudspeaker already. I just wanted to know if the coast is clear." He tapped his chest, indicating the phone tucked in his breast pocket for him to speak.

Ray's eyes narrowed. " I want you to talk back to me, or mutter words after I speak. Please make it natural. Like I’m having a casual chat with a nephew, not plotting a prison break." He patted the boy on the shoulder and he gave a subtle nod.

"No problem, Sir."

Suddenly, the tinny sound of a voice erupted from the boy’s pocket, a distinct Northern cadence cutting through the air. "What’s going on Ray? You sound unusual." It was Gowon, from the Ayamelum division, his tone laced with concern.

Ray’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Gowon? Wasn't expecting you, I was expecting the SP." He glanced at the boy, who was miming back what was being said, moving his lips silently as if echoing.

"The SP is rather bothered by other things right now. You sound unusual, what's the 411 on this issue?" He repeated, his voice tightening with worry.

Ray sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "The things I've seen these animals do," He muttered, then scoffed, the sound bitter and laced with disgust. “They’re not men, more like beasts.”

"You haven't reached us for a while. I was worried," Gowon said, his voice softening. The concern was obvious even through the distorted sound of the phone.

"Our phones were seized after news got out about a mole," Ray explained, his voice dropping to a near whisper then increasing its volume again. "Buchi, that jackal, seized everything.”

"Even your kpalasa (button phone) was not accepted?" Gowon asked, a hint of disbelief creeping in.

Ray answered flatly, “No. He got every button phone." The boy’s lips moved in tandem with Ray’s words, a silent echo. He even scratched his head like a young boy in need of food.

"But what Buchi doesn't know is that I didn't give you guys any information. Who did?" Ray asked, a flicker of curiosity replacing his weariness.

The boy muttered as Ray spoke. "The Sefa girl that escaped. She found out the kidnapping den was located in Ayamelum but an informant told us where to find it," Ray explained.

"Who's the informant?" Gowon pressed, his voice now sharp with urgency.

"I can't trace an address to him," Ray said, his jaw tightening, "Every information dropped was fake, including the intel. He's like a phantom."

"Did Buchi find anything on your phone after it was seized?" Gowon questioned, getting back to the matter at hand.

"I've been careful. I don't keep messages." Ray’s voice softened slightly. "How is my family?"

There was a pause, then a heavy sigh. "Fine. I bumped into your wife. She doesn't understand why this 'special case' isn't letting you use your phone. She’s frustrated, she misses you terribly."

Ray shut his eyes, the pain of his separation was like  a fresh wound. "Once I'm done with this mission, we'll see." He muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

Gowon cleared his throat, "We rescued some girls, Lotanna, they were found in a…" He continued, his tone shifting to something urgent.

Ray cut him off, his voice laced with harsh certainty. "Lies! You've been fooled, It was just a diversion." "I knew it!" Gowon exclaimed.

"Where is their real location?"

"I don't know," Ray admitted, his voice flat with frustration. He wished he did, wished he could put a stop to this horrific ordeal.

"We are around. I have at least three of the men I trust, we can follow out." Gowon stated.

Ray shook his head slowly, the fear creeping into his voice. "You won't be able to get in. I don't even know how to get to the location. These guys blindfolded us before we left to visit our families. The only people who know the way and how to bypass the charm are the old ones, like Alonso, Preye, Ozi, Friday. They don't trust me, if you dare follow us, they'll kill you and our men. We can't risk it." His voice dropped to a low, desperate warning.

"How long do we have to wait?" Gowon's voice was laced with frustration he could barely contain.

"I don't know. I think Buchi is on to me. He let about five of us visit whoever we want, when he knows there's a mole." Ray's eyes darted around, a sense of unease settling over him.

"Just like the mole we have in the force. I think it’s Okafor," Gowon said, his tone hardening.

"I've always suspected that monkey, but we have no evidence. We can play a diversion game to find out," Ray said, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes.

Gowon scoffed, "Diversion?" "Cook up something in front of him, to see if it will spread." Ray’s voice was tight and controlled.

“Like what?” Gowon asked.

"Have a conversation with him where you'll slip calling our mole's name; Shege Seghe," Ray said, the name rolling off his tongue with a chilling resolve.

"Is that a real name?" Gowon asked, surprised.

"Yes," Ray said, his eyes hard.

"Wait, wouldn't that implicate the person?" Gowon asked, his tone thoughtful.

"He's not called Shege for nothing, he delights in sexually abusing every woman. That’s just one bad fruit that will be uprooted," Ray said, his voice devoid of any pity. "He deserves it and much worse."

Gowon sighed, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. "How will you communicate this to us, if Okafor finally spills ? I mean seeing you're not allowed access to your phone?"

"Leave it to me," Ray responded, a grim determination in his voice.

"Don't take silly risks Lotanna, you know you have a wife and children," Gowon said, his voice pleading.

Ray pulled out a sealed envelope, handing it to the young boy, who bowed slightly in return. "We're taking time. I wish I can tell you more, but there isn't enough time. I gave SP Etim enough information to start an investigation the last time. I told him of the insider, even though my heart still breaks for that betrayer, that fool." The pain in his voice was raw.

"He doesn't want to believe that one of his men are working against him. Lotanna, I don't know what to do again," Gowon confessed, desperation creeping into his voice.

"In case I don't make it out alive…" Ray began, his voice heavy with the unspoken possibility.

"Yi shiru! (Shut up)" Gowon snapped, his voice sharp and laced with fear. "Don't say that!"

"You must let Okafor pay for his crimes, for every woman that gets killed, abused, and scarred, let him pay for it," Ray said, his voice imbued with a hard-edged conviction.

"Your wife and children," Gowon reminded him.

"They'll be safer now than with me. I'll be jeopardizing their life. These guys won't let me go easily," Ray said, the reality of his situation stark and terrifying.

"Get out now. I'm not too far from you. You can escape," Gowon urged.

The young boy shifted nervously, his eyes wide. The risk was high, and they were all playing a dangerous game. Ray knew that. He also knew that his wife and children would be safer without him. He also knew that justice needed to be served. "I can't. Just do what I asked you to. I'll let you in on if truly Okafor is the mole."

"How?"

"Let just say, there's a woman that has a crush on me, I'll just have to leverage on it."

"Don't do anything stupid kwo?" He advised but his mind was already racing with stupid ideas already. Nurse Perpetual was his only option at the moment.

Sefa sat on a pavement outside the church compound, the sun hitting against her skin. Beside her, Alonso fidgeted, his eyes darting nervously. "So you're saying his hands got burnt... literally?" Sefa raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge the seriousness of Alonso's claim.

"You think I'm joking?" He replied, his voice tinged with disbelief. "I saw his hands, and I got scared. It was like something out of a horror movie."

Sefa chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "The truth is, I wasn't the one who did it. It was God, through Aunty Kilahi, I'm talking about the woman who's getting married. Let's just say she's a powerful woman of God."

"Your Aunty Kilahi did that to the boss?" He asked getting a nod from her, "Yes! At the time, I was being spiritually attacked and molested by him and she found out. She decided to spend the night with me, and that was when it happened." Sefa paused then she laughed, the absurdity of the situation hitting her. "Aunty Kilahi felt it, and to think it actually happened... God is good. How bad was the burn?" She asked seeing the fear in his eyes.

"Why are you staring at me that way?" She asked and Alonso scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "Are you guys witches? What kind of power do you have? The boss has fortifications that no one can penetrate through. What kind of power do you guys possess?"

"There was no external power involved—only the Power of God." She replied, her tone earnest.

He shook his head, disbelief etched on his face. "Lies!  Ever since you escaped, it’s been one stroke of bad luck after another. I still don’t understand how you got away, even after watching your videos, I don't understand how you want me to believe an invisible hand led you out."

"God came in the person of Aunty Kilahi."

"You guys are witches right? and maybe you placed a curse on us."

Sefa scoffed , "That will be more easy to believe right?" She asked and he let out a frustrated sigh. "We’re stuck, and the police are breathing down our necks. I feel like it’s over for me. That’s why I’ve come to seek your forgiveness. Maybe if you forgive me, I can escape this bad luck." He knelt before her, desperation in his eyes. "Please, take this curse away. I know I’ve done terrible things—I’ve killed people, and I don’t deserve a second chance, but I want to change."

Sefa looked at him, her expression softened,  "I didn’t lay any curse on you." "I'm sure you must have," He insisted, his voice cracking.

"Maybe I did it casually, but God has renewed my heart. My deepest prayer is for you and your friends is to get caught and for justice to be served."

"You can’t say that!"

"That I want justice? How do you guys justify kidnapping and killing people?"

"Not that. You can't say you didn't place a curse on us. Why have I been feeling this nudging to talk to you? It doesn't make sense. Something keeps telling me that you’re the solution to whatever I’m going through. I can’t leave with this weight on my shoulders."

Sefa exhaled slowly, her heart heavy. "The only one who can lift that weight is Jesus. Before I genuinely gave my life to Christ, i had weights. I just never realize how much I weight I was carrying until I got kidnapped. It was a wake up call. When I accepted Him again and came to understand His finished works, He took away my burdens and pain. I started to feel light. He became the solution to every problem I had. He is the way, the truth, and the life. With Jesus in your life, you'll begin to experience peace like you've never done in your life. I'm talking about peace from within, there may be turmoils and crisis all around. Everything might be going wrong but according to a special hymn writer, when  peace like a river attends my soul, when sorrows like seas billows roll, whatever my lot has taught me to say, it is well, with my soul. That's the assurance we have, no matter the storms raging, we know with Jesus in the boat, it will be well. That's the kind of peace I have now. Maybe this is God pulling you toward Him, urging you to do the right thing."

"And what’s that?" Alonso asked, tears welling in his eyes.

Sefa glanced toward the police escort van parked nearby. "You can start from there. You can let the police know where the victims are, where they’re being held in Anambra. You can free those poor souls whose lives have been reduced to nothing. You can save many, just like Jesus saved us."

Sefa thought of Faith and quickly searched for her on Instagram.

"Ogunmolu Faith," She murmured, scrolling through the results until she found a familiar face. She turned the phone toward Alonso. "Does this face look familiar?"

He nodded, recognition dawning on him. "You know her?"

"She’s a friend’s sister. You can do the right thing here. Please, I think God is demanding that from you."

Just then, Hilary approached, holding a note and a pen. "What’s going on here, Sefa? You’ve been missing, and the Bishop is about to end his sermon. Who is he?"

Alonso rose, feeling uneasy with Hilary's look. He looked away, not wanting her to see the tears in his eyes.

Sefa quickly took the note from  tore off a piece, and wrote her number on it. "If God has brought you here on His terms, I believe He can still guide you to do the right thing. I won’t alert the police... yet." She handed the note to Alonso. "Call me when you change your mind. I promise you, you won’t have peace of mind until you follow Jesus and do the right thing. I promise you that."

Alonso grabbed the note and hurried off, his heart racing.

Hilary gasped, her eyes wide. "What was that you were saying about not alerting the police?" "It’s nothing," Sefa replied, trying to sound casual.

"Really? You're in church, don't lie to me." Hilary pressed, her voice rising. "The guy that just left is my kidnapper!"

"Jesus Christ!" Hilary exclaimed, her heart racing in worry. She wanted to rush toward the police, but Sefa held her back.

"Why didn’t you say anything? The police..."

"No," Sefa interrupted firmly.

"Why? Wait, why did you go out to meet him? What if something bad had happened?"

"I thought it was Ire. The usher didn’t mention who wanted to see me," Sefa explained.

Hilary exhaled, placing a hand on her chest. "Oh God! Why didn’t you tell the police? They were just there! You were having a conversation with a kidnapper! Make it make sense!"

"It wasn’t led to report," Sefa insisted.

"What do you mean by you weren’t led to? That man is a kidnapper and obviously a killer! If he found out about this place, how do you know he doesn’t know your address?"

"He told me he found out from Instagram. He’s been following me."

"Why are you supporting him?" Hilary asked, frustration bubbling over.

"Because he’s a soul," Sefa replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I felt it while I was talking to him. He’s a soul that will soon be imprisoned, and God is interested in that soul."

"I don’t understand," Hilary said, her voice softening.

Sefa recalled Pastor Nath’s words about her calling to do prison evangelism. Was this it? Was she beginning to align with her purpose?

"It’s starting to make sense now. I can’t lose a soul because of my emotions. I had to follow the Spirit of God and His instructions. He’s going to come back; I’m sure of it."

Hilary exhaled, embracing Sefa tightly as she listened to her  break down in tears.

Pastor Noah got up on the altar, cleared his throat staring at the congregation."As our Father in the Lord, Bishop Caleb Dalyop, a man I respect in the ministry, has he has stated in his short message: A home built on God stands the test of storms. I pray, dear Heavenly Father, that You will keep this home, built on the foundation of Your love and truth, safe from the storms of life." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle.

"Amen!" The congregation thundered in response.

Pastor Noah continued, his voice softening with warmth. "May Your presence be the anchor that holds Kilahi and Gbadamosi together, may Your wisdom guide them, and may Your love be the bond that strengthens their relationship.'"

"Amen!"

"'As they navigate the joys and challenges of marriage, may they always turn to You, their Rock and Refuge. Keep their home filled with laughter, joy, and peace. In Jesus' name, I pray.'"

"Amen!!!!" The final "amen" reverberated through the church, a collective blessing upon the soon-to-be-wedded couple.

"Can we invite the couples to come before this exalted altar as they come to make their vows to each other." As they walked towards the altar, Kilahi, radiant in her white gown, walked with Sewuese, her chief bridesmaid. Gbadamosi, looking dashing in his suit, was accompanied by Manny, his Best man. A soft melody from the keyboard filled the space as they reached the altar.

Pastor Noah exhaled, a smile playing on his lips. "This is the moment you two have been waiting for. Before I proceed with that statement, I'll like to ask the Groom if this is the woman he went through the, how do you call it these days, talking stage with." He paused, eliciting chuckles from everyone.

"Please look at her and give me a response. I know the veil is still on her face, and judging from the way we do our makeup, some grooms don't recognize their brides on their wedding day…but I can still recognize her from under that veil. Let it not be on record that I was looking at another man's wife-to-be through her veil oh, Pastor Gbadamosi, you will pardon me for today." He pleaded theatrically, and the church erupted in laughter once more.

"So, is she the one you're in love with?" He asked.

Gbadamosi, his gaze never leaving Kilahi's veiled face, nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "Yes, she is."

Pastor Noah turned to Kilahi, "And you? Is he the one you said yes to? Maybe it's his twin brother." He teased.

Kilahi chuckled softly, "Yes, he is." "At this juncture, let the representatives of the parents giving these two in marriage walk forward. There's a very important question that I must ask."

Mr George and Uncle Adzer, approached the altar with solemn dignity.

"I greet you elders. Have the traditional rites been fully done? Who can attest to it?" Pastor Noah inquired, his voice serious.

Uncle Adzer smiled, a proud glint in his eye. "Fully done." He answered watching Mr George lift up his hands in agreement. "So, the man is free to carry his baby home, right?"

"Yes, Sir." He answered.

Mr. George flashed a warm smile at Kilahi, who bowed her head slightly in response as she watched her father and father-in-law return to their seats.

Pastor Noah then turned back to the couple, his expression lightening. "At this point, you’ll walk majestically towards your bride, and you’ll take off the veil…slowly. If I see any sign of hastiness, you’ll start again. Your examination starts now."

A low chuckle rippled through Gbadamosi as he reached for the delicate lace of Kilahi's veil. Each movement was deliberate, reverent. He muttered words of prayer and affirmation as the veil lifted, revealing her radiant face, a collective sigh of admiration swept through the church along with a resounding applause..

His heart swelled with affection, a wave of gratitude washing over him. He truly had been blessed.

They repeated their vows, their voices clear and strong, resonating with the sincerity of their commitment. When the rings were exchanged, glittering symbols of their eternal promise, the church erupted in cheers.

Pastor Noah raised his hands, quieting the jubilant crowd. "I learned the Bride and Groom have vows to share between each other. Who will go first?"

Gbadamosi eyes shone with adoration as he gazed at Kilahi. "My love, my good thing, my favour, my missing rib, my answered prayer," He began, his voice thick with emotion. "When I thought about what I wanted in a wife, I had a list, and you checked almost every box. But it's not just about checking boxes; it's about finding a partner who makes me feel seen, heard, and loved. And that partner is you, Kilahi."

Kilahi's bottom lips quivered as tears welled up in her eyes. She felt so cherished!

Gbadamosi paused, gathering his composure before continuing. "Going forward, I promise to love you, cherish you, support you, and bring out the best in you. I promise to be your rock, your safe haven, and your partner in every sense of the word. All my life, I've chased thousands in the kingdom, But with you by my side, I know we'll chase tens of thousands together. We'll build a life that honors God, a life that is filled with purpose, passion, and joy."

His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke from his heart, laying bare his soul before her and everyone present.

"You're the only woman I want to do kingdom with, the only woman I want to do life with. You're my best friend, my soulmate, and my everything. So help me God, I promise to love you, honor you, and cherish you, now and forever more."

Kilahi exhaled slowly, still fighting to hold back her tears. She didn't want to ruin her makeup, but the emotions overflowing from her heart were too strong to contain. She gazed lovingly at Gbadamosi, her voice trembling with emotion.

"My Choicest, from the moment I met you, it was like you took a portion of me that kept me coming back. It is without any doubt that you're God's perfect will for me. I believe that we've been aligned to do this kingdom work together, to build a life that honours God and brings joy to those around us."

She took a deep breath, her eyes shining with tears.

"I promise to submit to you, not because I'm weaker or less capable, but because I believe that together, we can achieve greatness. I might not be perfect, but I'll do my best to learn from you, to grow with you, and to support you in everything you do. And if need be, I'll correct you in love, because I want us to be better together." She paused feeling defeated by the tears.

"If I'm asked to choose again, I'll choose you over and over again. You're my soulmate, my best friend, and my everything. There's a choice, there's a choicer, and there's the choicest. I pick the superlative, my love. I choose you, my Choicest."

As Kilahi concluded her vow, tears poured down her face, and Sewuese quickly dabbed at them with a handkerchief, trying to preserve Kilahi's makeup. Kilahi didn't care in this moment; she was too busy basking in the love and adoration shining from Gbadamosi's eyes.

The whole room roared in excitement.

Pastor Noah smiled with excitement, “You know when people will say they are dedicating their new tear rubber car?” Pastor Noah's voice boomed through the church auditorium, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I'm not talking about the one that comes without the nylon covering oh. I’m talking about the ones that come covered, completely covered! This is the kind of wedding we're dedicating to God today as these two embark on their new life together.”

A wave of laughter, warm and genuine, rippled through the congregation. Kilahi, standing beside Gbadamosi at the altar, felt her cheeks flush. She giggled softly,  a mixture of embarrassment and excitemement swirling within her.

Pastor Noah, sensing the slight awkwardness, chuckled and continued, “Indeed, this is a testament to God’s blessings, a symbol of new beginnings. We're not talking about those car that has seen a few drives, folks! We’re talking about one where….” He paused for dramatic effect, leaning into the microphone, “...The tyre has nylon! The mouth has not been torn!”

Sewuese, who was standing by Kilahi, gasped softly, her brow furrowing slightly. She loved Pastor Noah, but she couldn't help but wonder if the detailed analogy about the car's virgin state was absolutely necessary. It felt a little… too descriptive. She glanced at Gbadamosi who, standing tall and proud, was flashing a wide, beaming smile, seemingly unfazed by the Pastor's colourful language.

Manny whispered something into Gbadamosi's ears that made him laugh.

Finally, the moment arrived. Pastor Noah’s voice softened, taking on a more mellow tone, “And now, as we have asked for blessings upon this new chapter. This is the part that most church members usually look forward to, I don't know what's exciting about kissing the bride. That same kiss that has led many of you astray, the way everyone's eyes will open, you will see, some people have even prepared to carry their phone to take the footage."

Everyone laughed.

"I'm not stopping you, I'm just saying, you all had better repent from all these carnality cause Jesus is coming soon."

Sewuese almost rolled her eyes, she shook her head knowing her Pastor can never change from being so orthodox.

"Well, before they sanction me for pausing the show. Well, Pastor Gbadamosi George," He paused for dramatic effect.

"You may not.." He paused eliciting a laughter from the couples, "You may now kiss your bride.”

Kilahi’s heart skipped a beat. She looked up at Gbadamosi, her eyes sparkling with happiness. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"He's even adding slow motion." Pastor Noah added and the congregation laughed again.

A nervous giggle escaped Kilahi's lips as she watched him lean in. They seemed to be sucked in cause she didn't understand why she was suddenly out of breath. She seemed to melt away as he closed the distance between them.

His fingers traced the line of her jaw, then his lips met hers. It was an unsetttled kiss at first, a gentle exploration that sent a wave through her.  A kiss that sealed their vows and celebrated the beginning of their life together. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the moment, her hands instinctively reaching up to touch his arms.  "It's okay!" Pastor Noah stated and they both giggled.

"I love you." He mouthed and she responded back mouthing to him.

"At this point, I'll like to call on all ordained minister of the gospel present here. We are about to pray heavily for these two soldiers of the cross."

All Pastor present quickly moved to the front, including Pastor Bamidele and AmazingGrace.   "We are going to stretch our hands at the couples, including those in the congregation. We'll pray whatever we wish on these ones, from our hearts but I want us to include this: Permit me, I can be quite orthodox, we're going to ask God to thwart every agenda of the enemies against their ministry. Let God put the enemies to shame on their behalf. They can't serve God and end in shame, let's pray that these ones will not be put to shame."

The whole room echoed prayers while Gbadamosi and Kilahi knelt down holding on to their hands.

After the wedding, the atmosphere inside the church was electric, filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter as guests mingled. Children darted around, their giggles punctuating the air, while a man’s voice boomed, “Family of the bride!!!! You are next!” This announcement echoed through the auditorium, signaling that it was time for the family of the bride to prepare for their photography session.

As the church wedding ceremony drew to a close, William, a tall man with a calm and composed demeanor, made his way through the throngs of guests towards the media stand. The area was a hive of activity, with every member of the team huddled around their equipment, each engrossed in their respective tasks.

Some were busy editing footage of the ceremony on their laptops, carefully crafting a visual narrative of the couple's special day. Others were reviewing photos on their cameras, scrutinizing every detail to ensure that each shot was perfect, uploading updates and behind-the-scenes glimpses of the wedding to the church's various online platforms.  A few team members were conducting live interviews with guests, capturing their thoughts and well-wishes for the newlyweds on camera.

"Is felicitation spelt with Ce or Ci?" One of the female media workers asked as William finally approached the media stand, the team members looked up, their faces a mix of curiosity and expectation.

“Here,” He said, handing Gbadamosi’s phone to Lanre. “Papa said you should send in pictures and that file. He said you’ll understand.”

Lanre nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “Yes Sir,” He replied, watching William walk away, his mind already racing with the tasks ahead.

Tega, who had been observing the exchange, leaned in closer. “Bring the phone make I send the pictures put,” He suggested, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.

“No need. I’ll send am. E get wetin Papa say make I do,” Lanre replied confidently, his fingers already itching to get to work. Tega shrugged, a hint of disappointment flickering across his face.

“Make I just send the pictures now, no be me be photographer? Na my job now, na me know the pictures way fine,” Tega insisted, his tone a mix of pride and frustration.

Lanre scoffed lightly, “You way no like Mama, you fit send blur sef,” He teased, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Wetin you mean?” Tega shot back, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“I just dey joke, but there's no need. All files dey church laptop so, I’ll do the sending. Besides, there are some designs Papa asked me to make and some documents I was asked to…” Lanre trailed off, inserting the cable into the phone with a sense of urgency.

“But that’s your own niche now, mine is photography and videography editing,” Tega argued, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Friends from NCCF!!!" A man announced, his voice echoing as he called the next in line to take photos with the couples.

Lanre sighed, “I’m not saying it’s not your niche. What you're saying is valid but we go waste time. After pictures, they’ll probably call media unit now to take pictures with Papa,” Lanre replied, casually glancing over at a young girl from the media unit who was busy adjusting her camera settings.

“When’s our turn on the photography list?” He inquired, his curiosity piqued.

“After the choir unit,” She answered.

Lanre laughed, “God abeg oh! Let's just utilize whatever time we have.” He encouraged.

Tega's hands were stretched,  "Make I just send the pictures. E get one way I for like make Papa see." He requested, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice.

"Tega I swear, if I sabi speak your language, I for don speak am for you. I said I want to use it." His eyes scanned his laptop for the files.

“Why you do dey feel like say na only you one fit do everything for this department?” Tega snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

“Oga chill, why are you taking this personal?” Lanre retorted, his tone defensive. “Is it not the same thing I want to do? I want to send the files first and then, we can send a few pictures and send the rest later sef, but these files are important.”

Tega hissed in annoyance, “Chop the phone now! ITK!” He snapped, turning on his heel and walking away. Lanre gasped as everyone exchanged bewildered glances. "Let's not even talk about what just happened. Tega does not have sense before, I don't understand what's making him act up. Simple English is his problem. Abeg, one less headache, please let's continue." The girl who had asked how to spell "Felicitation" interjected sharply.

Lanre shook his head in disbelief at the situation. 

As Bella drove to the reception , she noticed the red light as she approached the traffic signal. She let out an exasperated grunt, slamming her hand against the steering wheel in frustration. Of all days Lagos traffic just decided to show her shege that day! She was clad in short gown, she was beginning to regret why she left the church. She would have certainly hung around the church or drive off to the reception venue!

In a moment of distraction, she pressed the accelerator, driving right through the intersection without a second thought. Just as she crossed the line, she caught sight of a Lasma van pulling up behind her, its lights flashing. Panic surged through her as she realized what she had done. With a frustrated grunt, she pulled over to the side of the road, her heart racing. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the van parked beside her.

Two officers emerged from the van—a woman and a man. The woman approached her window, while the male officer began jotting down her license plate number.

“Madam!” The female officer called out, her tone firm.

Bella took a deep breath, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Yes, officer?” “Really? So na woman like you dey do this kind thing?" the female officer snapped, her tone laced with disapproval. Bella felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. "A woman like you running a red light?” The female she added as though Bella didn't hear it the first time she said it.

Bella’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “I was in a hurry, okay? It was just a moment of ...distraction and impatient. ”

The officer crossed her arms, unimpressed. “You know what they say: it’s better to arrive late than to never arrive at all. Have you heard that one?”

Bella let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, I’ve heard it. Just didn’t think it applied to me today.”

With a hint of desperation, Bella pulled out her phone. “Look, we can settle this right now. How much do you want?”

The officer’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Hmm… Since you seem to have plenty of money,  why don’t we settle this at the head office? You’ll pay a lot more there. Since you lack patience, you're going to need a lot of it there.'

Bella gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief, "You're not collecting the money?" She blinked in surprise, feeling the weight of the situation crash down on her. This has got to be the worst day of her life!

Reception

The chandelier above the dance floor cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the joyous scene below. As Kilahi and Gbadamosi made their grand entrance into the reception, the soft light danced across their traditional attire, highlighting the intricate patterns of Kilahi's beautifully embroidered gown and the rich colors of Gbadamosi's agbada. The air was electric with excitement, and the guests erupted into cheers as the couple glided down the red carpet aisle, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of Neeja's "4 You."

🎶 This your kind of loving I never see before,
You feel my cup and everyday e dey over pour... 🎶

The lyrics wrapped around them like a warm embrace, each note resonating with the love that filled the room. Kilahi's eyes sparkled with happiness as she twirled, her laughter mingling with the music, while Gbadamosi beamed with pride, his hand firmly clasped around hers. They moved as one, lost in the moment, their joy infectious as friends and family joined in the celebration.

As they reached the center of the dance floor, the energy surged. Their friends surged forward in excitement. They encircled the couple, clapping and whooping, their energy feeding the already electrifying atmosphere.

Kilahi and Gbadamosi, still hand in hand, began to sway to the rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony with the music. They danced until sweat beaded on their foreheads and their breaths came faster, each movement a testament to their commitment, their joy, their love.

The MC, a charismatic figure with a voice that could command a crowd, rallied the guest urging them to encourage the festivity. 

🎶I go dey sing you song everyday
(my lover)
cos your love e dey burst my brain
(my lover)
Nobody do me like you
(my lover)
Am falling in love with you
(oh my lover)
Na you wey dey bless me oo
(my lover)🎶

Friends cheered them on, their voices rising above the melody, encouraging the couple to dance like no one was watching.

Finally, as the song reached its crescendo, Kilahi and Gbadamosi intertwined their hands, as they navigated their way through the throng of well-wishers toward the ornately decorated head table. As they settled into their chairs, Kilahi leaned her head against Gbadamosi's shoulder, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips. He squeezed her hand, his gaze tender.

" Give it up for the latest couples in Lagos!!!" The MC exclaimed,
The cheers of their loved ones followed, a reminder of the community that stood behind them, ready to support them in this new chapter of their lives.

"Somebody say, Awn." The MC continued.

"Awn."

A few Caterers and ushers elegantly draped in beautifully sewn uniform, stood close to an array of Nigerian and intercontinental dishes. The aroma wafting through the air was a delightful invitation, especially for the diverse crowd gathered from all corners of the globe.

Sewuese sat beside Sam, her eyes dancing with amusement as she watched his mother from a distance eagerly request Abula.

“Did I just see your mum’s lips say ‘Abula’?” Sewuese whispered, her voice laced with playful disbelief. "I swear I read that right."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "You caught that, huh? She's head over heels for Nigerian food. Mrs. George made it a couple of times back in London, and now…" He paused, an affectionate smile playing on his lips. "Now, she can't get enough of Ewedu and Amala. It's like she’s been possessed!"

He shook his head in mock exasperation. “You wouldn’t believe it. WhenMrs. George , left London, Mom was devastated! Not because of Mrs. George per se, mind you, but because of the soup. It was all about the.. what's it called , the Abula taste." He pronounced in his British accent provoking her to laughter.

"Abula." She corrected and he smiled, "I'm trying to pick, which I love, Abuulla is British accent or Abula."  Sewuese laughed, throwing her head back.

"So she missed Mrs George because of Ewedu."

"It wasn't just about the molokhiya leaves, the taste mattered!"

"The Abula taste."

"Exactly," He confirmed, pointing at her.

Sewuese's smile softened. "It's lovely that your family's here to support Gbadamosi."

Sam's grin widened. "That's true, but that’s not the only reason they’re here."

Sewuese raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What other reason?"

He leaned in with a grin, "Take a guess."

Sewuese rolled her eyes playfully. "Is it something personal, or something business-related? Maybe you're trying to show them your gallery,"

"Something…along those lines," He replied, that enigmatic grin still firmly in place"I wanted to show them a  beautiful work of art."

She widened her eyes, "Oh, one of your paintings? Which one? It's Grooming or wait... let me guess, Grizzly, or is it Earthling? I don't know which one I prefer."

"I didn't create this work of art." He revealed plunging her into deeper thoughts.

"Who did?"

"God did. Her name is Sewuese." He revealed and she blushed in realization . All this while, he was referring to her!

"They came to see the beautiful work of art designed by God himself. Drawn and painted to perfection." He added and she giggled biting her lower lips.

"You had me there." She pointed at him then she rested her chin on her hand, feigning deep thought. "I never knew you had some Nigerian moves in you! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were one of us.” She quipped.

“At this point, I think I deserve a Nigerian name, abi?” Sam said, the cheeky grin firmly back in place.

Sewuese erupted in laughter again, her fingers tapping thoughtfully against her chin. “You saying ‘abi’ like that is already half the battle! But seriously, what should we call you?”

Sam leaned closer, adopting a mock-serious expression. “I demand a Tiv name! Something that will make your ancestors proud!”

Sewuese pretended to ponder deeply, exaggerating her concentration to comedic effect.

Bimbo, her sister Ashabi and Lanre sat on table waiting for their food to be served. Ashabi's eyes scattered everywhere, "Aunty Bimbo, assuming you did not invite me, I would have taken your name to an higher place cause. What am I seeing like this? This wedding is lit, they have more than ten different cuisine Aunty Bimbo, from coconut rice to jollof, to Chinese rice, even sushi oh, even sushi. Why am I seeing celebrities everywhere nitori olorun? (for Christ sake)" She commented her eyes scattering the whole venue.

"I'm seeing Waje, I'm an endless ocean, someone should please tell this brother of God that a sister is single and desperately searching?" She asked looking up to the heavens.

"God I'm a stone? Even though I'm a stone, turn me to bread so that I'll have some form of use cause what am I doing with my life bayii?" She lamented provoking Bimbo to laughter.

"Prophet Ashabi, are you trying to rewrite another chapter of lamentation, I don't understand you."

Ashabi gasped, "It's Ashley or Ashanti, if you can't call any of the name. Just leave it at Ash. Confession time guys, I actually insisted that Aunty Bimbo brings me to this wedding to see for myself if what I've been hearing is true about Kilahi Agbo. The truth is , many of the unilag alumni here are also here to confirm if it's truly happening for real."

Lanre raised his brow, "You knew here?" "I was in the same department with Sewuese. I knew her as that Sewuese's sister, that's all. We did GST together now, she was just a weird as every philosophy student. She does not say anything, I even thought it was low self esteem. I was shocked to see her making rounds on the Internet, now she's married to every woman's template for their dream man. I know people who looked down at her, even I did, to be honest here. Now she's living their life every girl wants."

"Fallacy! Not everyone want to get married to a Pastor." Bimbo argued, "Except he's as hot as your Pastor. Ah, let's not even hide it, your Pastey is a fine man oh! No wonder the Bible says, what goes around comes around." She exhaled.

Bimbo and Lanre glanced at her, "The Bible didn't say that." They both corrected in unison, "Awn, couples intuition." Ashabi winked then she continued, "The Bible said a lot and I'm sure you understand the point I'm trying to create. Don't look down on people because you don't know who they'll be tomorrow."

Ade approached with two plates, laden with steaming dishes, balanced precariously in his hands. On one, jollof rice nestled beside a generous chicken lap and salad. The other held a tower of smooth, semo and Egusi soup.. He carefully maneuvered between tables, his eyes fixed on the small group waiting for him.

Chioma sat down dropping  plate of fried rice with ollof on the side and chicken.  Lanre, ever observant , leaned back in his chair with an amused expression. Ade reached them, setting the plates down with a flourish. They turned towards him and Chioma  surprise etched on their faces. Their own tables were still conspicuously bare except with water and wine.

“Woah, Ade! Where did you conjure that from?” Lanre asked, his eyes darting between the two tempting plates.

Chioma had taken a forkful of fried rice and chicken, her face lit with satisfaction. Bimbo glanced at her, then back at Ade with  suspicion.

"Ade helped me," Chioma offered, chewing contentedly.

"Helped you bawo?" Bimbo countered, her voice sharp. "How did he even get two plates? We haven't even gotten ours yet."

Chioma just laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don't ask."

Ade, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, turned towards Bimbo. "Do you want to eat?" He asked, gesturing towards the Egusi and semo.

"Yes, but..." She began, her tone laced with frustration.

Ade cut her off, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Exercise more patience, my sister. Food is coming. Just hold tight."

Bimbo tightened her fist beneath the table, suppressing her laughter,  "I knew you were going to say that," She accused, “You blocked me before I answered. Generations are perishing and you’re eating food!”

Ade sighed theatrically. "God that asked ravens to feed Elijah, knows that the journey is far so man must eat. It's not about gluttony," "Man shall not live by bread alone." She argued.

"That's why I ordered Egusi and rice." He winked.

Lanre burst out laughing, slapping the table lightly. "Honestly, Ade, how did you get two plates? We've been waiting ages!"

Ade puffed out his chest, a picture of smug satisfaction. "We're not grace mates, my friend. In other words, I know someone that knows me in the ushering team." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Let's just say a well-placed word and a little… persuasion goes a long way."

"I celebrate grace." Lanre commented with mock seriousness and Bimbo laughed.

"God when will have this kind of grace? Instead of having friends that are bakers or caterers, that I'll  be eating free cakes and food from, I'll be having friends that will be making me spend money on tote bags and shoes with their useless 'buy what I'm selling  post' on Whatsapp, even my make up artiste is not free, what kind of friends do I have?" Ashabi lamented, "Have faith and exercise patience." Ade answered.

She switched into a British accent to respond to her, "The patient dog that was waiting for the fattest bone died last week. I went to his burial."

Chioma laughed, "You and your sister have a lot in common." "No we don't!" Ashabi and Bimbo answered in unison. Ashabi hissed looking towards the couples then she switched back, "God should just cut small soap for me, no matter how small it is, I'll use it to wash cause what in the love is this. So this Pastor Gbadamosi can whisper sweet nothing into a woman's ear."

Bimbo snapped, "That's what love can do." She answered, "Talking about love," She paused looking towards Sister Joke who was with her fellow choir member but seemed lost. She gave Ade a look and he quickly understood the signal, his eyes now on her. "Maybe we should call her to this table, she's with her family unit in church, but she's not happy." Ade suggested.

"Who will be? Her boyfriend called off  their engagement, not dating experience oh, engagement!  For instance, if brother Lanre here decides that oh, tomorrow I don't want Bimbo. I know I have to move on but do you think I'll be happy? No! I'll be wrecked! You might want to look at it from the perspective of 'maybe it's God's will' but the truth is, it's easier said than done."

Lanre held Bimbo's hand, "You know I'll never do that to you right?" He confessed affectionately and she blushed, "Awn, God, at this point, I think i'm a wall."

As the wedding reception progressed,  she and Gbadamosi swayed to the rhythm of a slow, soulful song, T shirt- which was being sang live right there by an Endless Ocean.
🎶I pour my heart out for you and it's like an ocean, oh it's so deep
ei ee I owe my life, and it's my debt, please let me pay it🎶

He held her close, their bodies almost molded together, his hand resting firmly on the small of her back. It was their first dance as husband and wife, a moment charged with  excitement and undeniable passion.

As they moved together, Kilahi accidentally stepped on his shoe for the third time, a playful frown crossing her face."Sorry! I stepped on your foot again," She said, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Gbadamosi chuckled, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated against her. "You're not entirely bad, my love. I doubt anyone without eyes would notice." He whispered the playful tease against her ear, the warmth of his breath upon her neck.

Kilahi laughed,  "Really? Why does that sound sarcastic? Sarcasm is that you?" "Am I?" He feigned innocence, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Toor, you're just being nice."

"I'm not complaining, am I?" He tightened his grip on her just a fraction.

"We should have rehearsed," Kilahi admitted, a hint of frustration filled her voice. "I don't even know how to waltz properly." She was accurately aware of her awkward movements, the fear of messing up gripped her confidence while dancing- He made it easier!

Gbadamosi pulled back slightly, enough to meet her gaze, his eyes filled with an emotion that sent shivers down her spine. "You're doing great in my eyes. I honestly don't think I would have been able to resist this emotions pumping through me if we had rehearsed this close. Maybe it's because I'm attracted to you, I wouldn't have been able to keep my hands off you. I can barely resist myself this moment." His gaze intensified, lingering on her lips before meeting her eyes again.

Kilahi felt a shockwave jolt through her, leaving her breath catching in her throat. The casual intimacy of their dance, the raw emotion in his confession – it was all so much more powerful now that they were married. She unconsciously not her lower lips, "Maybe...Maybe with us not being married, there was self-control," She paused, her voice a soft whisper. "I'm not even trying hard to control myself right now. Even though I am a bit, I'm more vulnerable in every way because I know I'm in front of my husband and not my fiancé, or boyfriend." She felt like she had revealed a hidden part of herself, a truth she hadn’t fully acknowledged until this very moment.

"You're a fine man you know. Even with this talk, it's doing something I can't explain cause I lack the anatomical terms to describe it. I'm really really vulnerable." She added chuckling to herself.

Gbadamosi's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening slightly as he bit his lower lip, an unconscious gesture she found incredibly alluring. "Define…vulnerable," He murmured, his voice laced with a seductive edge.

"Shut up!" She snapped playfully, burying her face in his chest, a blush creeping up. She took a breath and looked up at him again, a hesitant smile playing on her lips.

"If it makes you feel better," Gbadamosi confessed, his voice softer now, the teasing tone gone. "I'm that vulnerable too. Just putting on a lot of self-control because mine will be…visible now.” He gave a sheepish grin and she gasped, a laugh bubbling up from her chest. She fought the urge of not looking down.

What a confession it was!

“Oh really?” She giggled, the playful energy returning as she buried her face against his agbada.

"Bottom line is, let's be vulnerable together. I want to be vulnerable with you and I want you to be with me." He sighed, his gaze searching hers with an almost tangible intensity. "Don't look at me that way, my love. I'm this close, this very close to kissing you again." His thumb traced the line of her jaw, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down her spine.

Kilahi, overwhelmed by his confession and the intoxicating intimacy of the moment, bit her lip, a flash of playful rebellion in her eyes. "What’s stopping you? We already said 'I do', right?" She threw the challenge out, a dare whispered amidst the swirling music and the watchful eyes of their guests.

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound, and bent his head, claiming her lips in a kiss that was anything but chaste. The guests erupted in cheers and applause, their joy a beautiful cacophony that filled the room as the newly married couple kissed.

The event center had a bar stand, Joke excused herself from the choristers , she needed to stay alone and drown in her sorrow. The wedding was putting her in a 'What could have been' mood. She approached the bar stand. Ade and Chioma joined her. "Sister Joke." He called out and she rolled her eyes, can't she be left alone?

"I loved your ministration." Chioma complimented, " Tasha Cobbs has nothing on you. You were just giving every spiritual vibe that Tasha Cobbs gave that song." "It's actually Miranda curtis." She revealed and Chioma shrugged.

"Even better. The song was a like a prayer." She added, "It's actually a prayer." Joke answered watching the couples dance. Ade turned his gaze towards them, their laughter ignited  a spark of excitement in him. Then he turned to Chioma and Joke,  "I've noticed that when couples dance together, they always laugh. To me, it's almost premeditated cause I always find myself asking, what is that thing, gan, that makes them laugh in this moment when they're dancing? What do they talk about? That's always so funny?" Ade asked, a playful grin spreading across his face.

Chioma chuckled, shaking her head. "It's a mystery for single people. God when?" She replied, her eyes twinkled in anticipation.

Ade smiled knowingly. "Yes, maybe 2025," He teased, raising an eyebrow and she slapped his arm, "I reject it in Jesus' name!" Chioma snapped, her tone half-serious, half-joking. She glanced over at Joke, "What do you think?" "About what?"

"What Ade just said."

Joke stretched her head out to him, "What were you saying?" "I wasn't going to say this but Madam, cheer up!" He exclaimed, his voice rising above the music. "I hate to sound insensitive, but the world isn't going to end over one breakup. Even we, who consistently break God's heart, He doesn’t hold it against us. Live a little!"

Joke rolled her eyes, her mood still heavy. "So everyone knows right?" "Even though we didn't, your constant mood gave it away." "You don’t know how it feels, I know his family and he knows mine." She muttered, her voice barely audible over the music.

"All I can say is, no one ever has to die from a breakup. It’s not called breakfast for nothing—you eat and move on to lunch. It nourishes us to carry out the day's activities," Ade replied, his tone light yet earnest.

Chioma chimed in, "It’s a growing phase. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? You’re better than this. The person you’re busy sulking over is probably out there enjoying lunch and dinner while you’re starving yourself of fun over one breakfast. He’s not worth it."

"Can you guys just leave me? I know you've been trying to stay with me. Let me not bore, just leave me." She requested.

With that, Chioma and Ade walked away, leaving Joke to ponder their words.

Just then, a man approached her, a warm smile on his face. "Hey," He said, waving slightly.

Joke forced a smile, recognizing him from the church wedding earlier and being among the groomsmen. "Hi," She replied, her voice lacking enthusiasm.

"I was just waiting for you to be alone. This is the first time you've been by yourself since today," He answered.

Joke blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?" "Yes, So I can shoot my shot," He teased, a playful grin on his lips.

She arched an eyebrow, intrigued yet cautious. "Too forward, right? Sorry for coming off strong. I’ve been staring, not staring, watching. The Bible tells us to watch and pray. So I was watching and your mood since you got here is quite different from when you were in church or while you were singing."

She blinked in surprise, at this point, she felt like she had a stalker on her trail cause if not, why will he watching her.

"I promise I'm not a stalker." He answered as though reading her mind then he smiled. "You have an amazing voice; I must say and it ministered to me."

A small smile escaped her lips, despite her earlier gloom. "Really?" "Yes! I’m sure a lot of us were blessed by it." "I wasn't in the mood to sing, I just had to." "God bless the person that forced you to, I'm one of those that was sincerely blessed." He replied, placing a hand over his heart dramatically and she smiled.

"Why are you sad?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

Joke scoffed, "Are you this..." She paused searching for an appropriate but less offensive word to use, "Nosey?" He interjected, a laugh escaping him.

"Not nosey, per se... Well, we can make do with nosey." She chose and he laughed . "I'm not offended at all." "You’ve only known me for like ten minutes, and you already interested in my biography?" She replied, crossing her arms playfully.

Niyii chuckled. "That’s funny. I haven’t even gotten to that part yet." "So you’re going there?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Slow and steady wins the race, you know. But seriously, what's with the sad face?"

Joke shrugged, her expression softening. "I’m just sad." "Thanks for stating the obvious," He replied, and they both laughed, the tension easing.

"Breakup?" He asked, his tone casual yet probing.

She arched her brow, surprised. "How did you know?" "Call it a spiritual hunch," He said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Lies! You heard my conversation with Ade," She accused, pointing a finger at him.

"No, I didn’t overhear your conversation with Ade," He insisted, laughing.

"Ha!" Joke pointed at him, a playful glint in her eyes. "How then do you know Ade?"

Niyii laughed again, he nodded, clearly enjoying their banter. "Is your ex aware he’s making a beautiful woman cry?" He asked, his tone sincere.

Joke scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I’m sure you guys attended the same ministry school. Ministry of flattery. You men and your flattery! I’m not falling for it. Try again later; this number is not available for the next two years. My heart has gone on holiday, so you can try someone who isn’t on vacation."

"God might have something different in mind. He’s not saying anything in sync with what you’re saying," Niyii countered, his gaze steady.

"How do you know what God is saying?"

"The question you should be asking should us, what is God saying?"

"What’s God saying?" She asked,curious to know his response.

"He’s saying I should get your contact and call you up for lunch on Monday if you’re not too busy," He replied, his tone light yet earnest.

Joke paused, taken aback. She had never heard that line before. She shook her head and laughed. "Well, since you men attended the same school of ministry,  what’s the last topic on your course outline? How to breakup with your fiancee after years of engagement?"

"Marriage and Kingdom fulfillment." He answered, his expression serious.

"You’re not serious," She said, laughing again.

"Your laughter reminds me of a popular character in the Bible. It starts with an 'S'," He teased referring to Sarah in the Bible.

Joke shook her head, feeling a headache coming on. "Really? If you’re looking for someone to tease or mess around with, sorry, I’m not that woman. You’ve found the wrong person; let me save you your time."

"You're not the wrong person, I’m correct. You’re Joke, right? Except there are other Joke in church." He said, his tone playful.

Joke gasped, sincerely in shock. "Are you sure you're not a stalker?" She asked, her eyes wide. "No. Just someone who is amazed by an Almighty matchmaker which is God" He replied, his smile unwavering.

"This whole spiritual card you're trying to play is a red flag. Just leave me alone, jhoor. I don’t even have your time, I don't have anyone's time." She said, half-laughing, half-serious.

"Let me not scare you. My name is Niyi, Pastor Adeniyi Phillips. I’m the resident pastor of WFC London branch. That’s how I know Ade. I’m not sure you were a member when I relocated; I’m sure I would have remembered you from foundation class. I was in charge of foundation class before the relocation."

Joke sucked her lips in surprise. "Oh. Wait... Now thinking of it, I've seen your birthday poster a couple of times on the church page. Papa speaks highly of you during workers' meetings. I’m sorry Pastor Adeniyi; I thought you were a random person looking for a free girl to take home tonight. I’m sorry. "

"Ouch, I should be the one apologizing. Please call me Niyii."

Joke sucked her lips then she shook her head, "I can't do that." She answered, "I'm sorry for being rude, I thought..." She apologized shutting her eyes in guilt.

"You can apologize by saying yes to my date proposal," He said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Joke gasped,  laughter bubbling over, "Really?" "Yes. Is it too cheesy? Ask Papa and those that know me; I’m that cheesy. So what do you say?"

"Is this how you come up to women you just met? You might just be one of those ashawo pastors, I'm sorry but... what's the possibility you're not. People are not what they say they are in the body of Christ these days."

Niyii nodded in understanding, it was quite understandable for her to think that way, "It's fine. God has never been more clear about this. The answer is no, I don’t go around asking every woman in London out for a date. You're a woman who loves God genuinely and you’ve caught God’s attention, and the attention of his servant and he directed me towards you. Like I said, I don’t want to scare you with details. Are you in for that date?"

Joke paused, her heart racing. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new. She looked into Niyi's eyes, searching for sincerity, and found it there.

"Are you really serious about this?" She asked, she knew she was a softie, she didn't want to risk being swayed. Her voice was already softening as she considered the possibility.

"Absolutely," He replied, his expression sincere. "I know it sounds cliché, but sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them. I believe this could be one of those moments."

Joke bit her lip, contemplating his words. "I need to pray about it. I'm sorry, but I'm hesitant to jump into anything after what happened last time."

Niyii's face broke into a warm smile. "No need to apologize. I understand." "I could use some company for today, though," She added.

He raised an eyebrow. "And what's the compensation for my company services? Well, I'm a bit pricey, but I'm worth it."

Joke gasped and laughed. "You're really corny, aren't you?"

Niyii grinned, his dimples deepening. "Guilty as charged. Ask anyone."

Joke smiled, intrigued by his charming demeanor. "So, what's your service charge?"

The atmosphere in the hall was electric, filled with the rhythmic pulse of amapiano music that set the perfect background sound for the occasion. The Master of Ceremony, MC charismatic,  took center stage,  “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give a round of applause for our beautiful couples!” He announced, his arms wide open, inviting everyone to join in the celebration. The clapping echoed through the venue. “E no easy!” He continued, “As the groom dey dance, naim I dey remember all the preaching wey I don come across. As I see am kiss him wife, I dey wonder if na the same Pastor Gbadamosi be this?” His words hung in the air for a moment before he paused, allowing laughter to ripple through the crowd, the kind of laughter that comes from shared understanding. Almost everyone had the thought streaming through their mind.

He leaned in closer, his shocked facial expression still had some people laughing, “Yes! One time way them invite this man of God come my church, him preaching make me so uncomfortable, in a good way sha. You see that nail way them use on top Jesus? Na so I start to feel that nail on top my chest. I was crucified with love.” The crowd erupted in laughter, the imagery both humorous and relatable, as he painted a vivid picture of his experience.

“We dey auditorium, I dey ask who dey breath cause the message choke us. Na so we dey AC, but many of us still dey sweat,” He continued, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from his brow for comedic effect. “Boom! 100 people come out that day change their life. This MC way you dey see so, e join them.” He paused again, letting the disbelief wash over the audience, who clapped and laughed, some shaking their heads in amusement at the absurdity of it all.

“Una no believe say I give my life?"

"Depends on wetin you give your life to!" Someone yelled from the congregation.

"Well, na that day I stop to dey pursue woman, I only walk side by side with them."

Kilahi laughed.

"Na that day naim decide say, after my abstaining, as church wedding finish, no reception. I understand say children dey here so…” He said, glancing around the room with a cheeky grin. “I must go back home and do the do. They say patience is virtue, but imagine all the virtue way I don dey keep, I no go come offload? Onto wetin? Because of wedding reception? Na on top wedding reception ground I wan offload?” He asked, his tone incredulous, and the crowd roared with laughter.

“Na for me to close that wedding reception, take my wife to the house straight to Jerusalem. You see that singer that sang, I'd climb every mountain, and swim every ocean. I'll Climb that mountains and enter realms!” He joked, his voice rising in excitement, and the laughter grew louder.

"If the Yeye MC for the wedding reception wan tay, na to look the MC tell am, who art thou oh ye mountain before Charisma, you no see say I get destination?  Oya! Se ebe a pụọ (Get out of here)" He snapped laughing to himself.

"Bad belle go say, you don wait that long, wetin four more hours go do you? Even the Bible says, weeping may endure for a night, but joy what?" He asked and everyone chorused, "Comes in the morning!"

"Exactly! You see that joy, it's a promise land and I must get there."

It suddenly dawned on her that she was hungry. The realization hit her like a wave, and she felt a gentle rumble in her stomach, a reminder that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“A round of applause for the couples once again!” He added, switching into a polished tone, his demeanor shifting to one of genuine celebration. The crowd clapped enthusiastically, their spirits lifted.

With Kilahi's stomach still grumbling softly, she leaned forward to her husband, "Let's make a plan, after the reception. We'll make headways for the food, I'm smelling food that I can't eat yet." She whispered and he laughed. "I've only eaten cake" She addednm and He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You’ve only had cake so far, and you’re already plotting a food heist?”

Kilahi rolled her eyes dramatically. “Which one is food heist again? It’s like I’m on a hunger strike over here! I’m this close to starting a petition for food.” She waved her hands in protest, and he laughed, the sound warm and infectious.

“Seriously, though,” He said, giving her a concerned look. “We can always order something if you’re really that hungry.”

“Really? So they’ll call your wife a foodie, bah? Can you hear that?” She teased, leaning closer as if to eavesdrop on the imaginary gossip. She creased her brow, pretending to listen intently. “What’s that?" He asked, 

"I think I hear the jollof rice calling my name!” She answered and he burst into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable."  “What can I say? It smells delicious!’” She mimicked a sultry voice, and he smiled, "Guess what else is delicious?"

"What?" She asked innocently, "It’s who, actually,” He replied, winking at her with a playful smirk.

Kilahi felt herself melt into her chair, fighting the urge to blush. His gaze have always had a profound effect on her, accelerating her heartbeat and unraveling her composure but the intimacy of their wedding vows seemed to have stripped away her defenses and unleashed a primal attraction, shattering the delicate veil of self-control she had so carefully constructed.

“Oh really?” She teased, trying to maintain her composure. “And who might that be?” She feigned oblivion.

He leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. “Let’s just say, she’s got a killer smile and a serious appetite for jollof rice.”

Kilahi couldn’t help but laugh, her cheeks warming as she playfully rolled her eyes. “You’re practically unbelievable!” She said, but the affection in her voice was unmistakable. Her eyes darted across to see Ladi and his friends on a table with Mercy and the baby while the MC kept talking.

At the Lagos State Traffic Management Office, Bella sat in a plastic chair alongside other traffic offenders, while others shared their transgression stories, another section claimed they've been accused wrongfully. . Her mind raced, frustration boiled whenever she remembers Gbadamosi's wedding.

She walked up to the desk, by this time, she had taken off her heels,  “Excuse me,” She said, trying to keep her voice even. “I’ve been here for over an hour now. Is there any way to find out what the process is? If I have to pay a fine, I’d like to get it over with.” The anxiety gnawing at her threatened to spill over. She imagined her phone buzzing in some back room, all the missed calls piling up from clients and even her PA.

The woman behind the desk, her face a mask of weary authority, didn’t even look up from the paperwork in front of her. "You are not the only one waiting, madam" She snapped, finally fixing Bella with a glare. "Look around. Some people been here since morning. You think you're special?"

Bella bristled. "I understand that, but I have commitments. Is there an estimated wait time, or a procedure to follow?" "You had commitments, no wonder you thought you could jump the red light?" The woman's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Na people like una dey cause accident, dey kill people."

"I didn't kill anyone!" Bella’s voice rose, tinged with indignation. The accusation stung.

“You didn’t, but you could have! Imagine, an offender like you still get mouth? You should be grateful we're giving you a chance to have your car back and not seizing the car for a year."

Bella took a deep breath, counting to ten within. "Look, I understand I broke a traffic law. I'm willing to pay the fine. Is there anything I can do to speed up the process? And why was my phone confiscated? That seems… uncalled for.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, so you think we don't know what you blogger people can do, spreading lies and inciting trouble.”

“That’s ridiculous! Confiscating my phone is a violation of my rights. I could sue.”

The woman let out a short, sharp laugh. "Sue who? Government? You still get mouth, I tell you."

“I have connections.” Bella blurted out.

“Call your connection then! Go on, call Inspector General! See if it will change anything! " The woman leaned back in her chair, a triumphant smirk on her face.

Bella's frustration was now a boiling rage. “I need my phone back. I can’t even contact anyone to explain the situation.”

The woman sighed, finally relenting slightly. "The thing is, we are seriously short-staffed today. Oga is at a meeting, and the officer who brought you in has been dispatched to Lekki-Epe Expressway. There's a major gridlock there, something about an overturned bus or so."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Just sit here and wait indefinitely?" Bella asked, her voice laced with disbelief. The woman hesitated, her eyes darting around the room as if she were about to offer Bella a classified secret. "Look, I can help you prioritize your case. Move you from number ten to, let's say, number five. But...it won't be free, you understand."

Bella swallowed. The implication was clear. "I... I don't have my phone. I can make a transfer with your phone or make some calls.."

The woman scoffed. "You think I'm a fool? You want make I trust you with my personal phone? Aunty, go and wait your turn. Everybody here get somewhere to be."

"I don't have cash," Bella pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. "I just have somewhere incredibly important to be."

The woman clicked her tongue, her eyes raking over Bella’s designer handbag and expensive shoes. "As you fine reach, you no carry cash. You get somewhere to go but you no fit follow simple traffic laws? Oya, abeg go sit down. My head is aching enough already."

Bella felt tears well up in her eyes.

Lanre rolled a ball of Amala in his hand, watching Bimbo as she scanned the reception area, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Babe!" He called out, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd. Bimbo rolled her eyes, "Sorry," She replied, her tone softening. "I just got lost. She's not here."

"Who?"

"Bella. I just thought of her."

"Maybe she changed her mind because of your threat," He suggested, dipping the Amala into a rich, green Ewedu soup before swallowing it with a satisfied nod.

Bimbo scoffed, crossing her arms. "Who, Bella? I don't think she did. It's either something happened, or she had another plan. Sorry, I'm boring you with all this." "It's nothing. This is a matter of church and Papa's security," He replied, his expression turning serious.

"We're not God, but we can also fight for Him in whatever way we can. Add our input and let God have His way."

She sighed, her gaze drifting to the floor. "She has something planned." "Any idea what it might be?" He asked, leaning in closer, intrigued.

"Papa has proof, a recording that can disprove anything she says. But she could easily lie and claim she was manipulated into acting that way. You know how the media is; they'll jump at anything to destroy a man of God. I'm really worried."

"I thought you said you had something against her," Lanre pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Bimbo arched her brow in response, then looked away, her expression unreadable. "You don't?" He asked, sensing the tension. "Well, let's just say it's in that laptop I've been begging you to repair. The one you told me to perform a burial ceremony for. As long as she thinks I still have those rubbish evidence, it's an hold we can use."

He bursted into laughter, shaking his head. "Damn!" He muttered, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I'll drive over. You can give me the laptop, and I'll see if I can raise HP Lazarus to life." He teased, and Bimbo couldn't help but laugh along.

"Really? That my HP laptop is not your laptop's mate," She shot back, feigning indignation.

Lanre chuckled, "Apologies."

"On behalf of my HP laptop, Apology not accepted," She replied, her tone playful, and they both erupted into laughter, the tension momentarily forgotten.

"Looks like you've lost your appetite," He teased, making a playful attempt to reach for her plate.

"Never! Ko o sele laye! (It has never happened!)" she exclaimed, slapping his hand away playfully. "Because of someone who's not even bearing the real name her mother gave to her. The last time I lost my appetite was after I gave my life to Christ in 2020, when I started reflecting on how bad I was. Kai! And I also lose appetite when I'm fasting, of course I'm supposed to. In summary, it's only God that can make me lose my appetite for food." She declared, diving back into her Amala, a satisfied smile on her face.

Muyiwa's Mom 👆🏼

Muyiwa's mother, Mrs. Molola, was engaged in a lively conversation with a couple of friends when she caught sight of her son, Muyiwa, standing with a young woman she didn't recognize. A smile crept onto her face as she excused herself from the group, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached them.

"Oluwamuyiwa," She called out, her voice warm yet teasing. Muyiwa turned, his expression shifting from happy to surprised.

"Mom?" He replied, raising an eyebrow.

His mother feigned a shocked face, "Mom ke? Do I look like a mom? " She quipped and he laughed, shaking his head. "Sarcasm has always been your strong suit."

"And you've always had this tendency to act blind." She shot back, "I was just surprised." "I still wonder when you'll outgrow it. You're no longer a child."

Clearing his throat, he attempted to steer the conversation. "I didn't know you’d be coming. I thought you said you had that thing with that health Organization in Zambia. "

"It was cancelled last minute," She replied, her expression shifting to one of mild frustration. "I couldn't even sew a proper aso-ebi because of it. I look odd."

"You still look beautiful and twenty-six," He reassured her, a genuine smile breaking through.

"As always," She said, her voice softening. Then, her gaze shifted to Sharon, who was standing beside Muyiwa.  "Good afternoon Ma." Sharon greeted.

"And who is the pretty woman you're trying to fool?"

"Good afternoon, Ma," Sharon repeated out of fear, she wasn't surprised about his mother's tone. Muyiwa has spoken a lot about her. The description fits!

"I've heard so much about you Ma."

"You have? Muyiwa doesn't talk much about me. I happen to be his least favorite person. What did you hear about me? I'm sure he has called me a nag Queen more times than he calls me his mother." Mrs. Molola replied, her tone light but with an underlying seriousness. Sharon smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"He speaks highly of you. If not for your persistence, he would have probably ended up with no life, begging to survive. You gave his life purpose," Sharon said, her eyes sparkling with sincerity.

"Did he say that you're the only one giving the summary from everything you've heard?" Mrs. Molola asked, her eyebrow raised in playful skepticism.

Muyiwa forced a smile, feeling the weight of the moment. "Mummy, meet Sharon, my girlfriend."

"Ah!" Mrs. Molola exclaimed, her lips forming a perfect 'O' as she burst into laughter, turning to face Sharon fully. "I'm going to give you this advice for free: run away! I'm sure he hasn't gotten into your pants yet, and he's trying to make you look important. This man has never introduced me to any woman. If I bump into him with any woman, he basically doesn't even know their real names, so he calls them friends or nothing at all. If he's putting effort into remembering your name, my advice for you, my daughter, is run! The man doesn't even know what he wants for himself, much less for a woman."

"Mom!" Muyiwa snapped, his voice rising slightly, a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

"Oh please! Stop deceiving girls and get your life straight. Se wo fi se e ni? (Have you been cursed?)" She retorted, her eyes narrowing as she tried to conceal her anger. Then, she turned to Sharon, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Can you excuse my son and I? And while you're at it... run for your life. This one is not a boyfriend; he's looking for a plaything. He'll use and dump you." With that, Sharon politely excused herself, leaving the two of them alone.

Muyiwa rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Way to go Mom."

"I just saved the poor girl from future emotional damage," His mother shot back, her tone sharp. "Fix your life first, Muyiwa, and stop trying to give me a damn heart attack!" She slapped his arm lightly, but the gesture was more affectionate than angry.

"You have no cares in life! All you care about is buying condoms, drinking and having sex. No STD or STI in view! You do not sit and think for a minute: what if it busts? What if something happens? What about HIV/AIDS? No! All you care about is that pleasure you derive. I stay for hours teaching in seminar all over the world to young people about the risk of getting infected with HIV. Meanwhile, my own son is taking that risk too! Oluwamuyiwa, Learn to control that thing between your legs before it takes your life or puts you in trouble!" She exclaimed, her voice rising slightly with each word.

Muyiwa exhaled deeply, trying to remain calm. "Can you just listen to me for a bit?" "Like you're good at listening to me too." "Just give me ten seconds."

"You had better make it convincing."

"Sharon is my girlfriend," He stated firmly.

"You stated that lie to my face right in front of the poor girl!" She shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.

"She's probably swayed by your charms."

"Mom, she's my girlfriend for real. Like girlfriend girlfriend, like if your i ever decides he wants to do what Gbadamosi is doing today, Sharon would be the lady seated close to me. That kind of girlfriend! Mom, we're alone. What do I stand to gain from lieing to you when she isnt? She's my girlfriend, and I'm really serious about her."

His mother blinked, her expression shifting from disbelief to cautious curiosity. "Is this a prank?" "It's not," He insisted. "I don't understand. Is she pregnant?"

"No! She's not. I love her."

"I've never heard you use that word on anyone. You don't even love me," She replied, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"Mom!" He snapped, the frustration evident in his tone. She stood there, momentarily stunned.

"I don't know what to believe or say," She said, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

"Believe your son," He urged, his expression earnest.

"My heart has been broken more times than I can count to believe you, Muyiwa. More broken than any girl you've had in your life."

"Is it the sex?" She asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"We're not having sex," He replied firmly.

"What?" She exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Again..." He completed, and she rolled her eyes, a knowing smile creeping onto her lips. "I knew it."

"Mom, I'm born again," He confessed, his voice steady but filled with sincerity.

She laughed nervously, shaking her head. "And I'm an atheist." She replied sarcastically.

Muyiwa rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Mum, for real." He answered and she pushed aside her doubt for a moment as she searched his face for the truth.
"Wait, when did you? You didn't tell you gave your life to Christ." She whispered in excitement.

"Oluwamuyiwa, I didn't know. You didn't tell me."

"I knew you were going to be sarcastic."

"Sarcastic is how I deal with your crisis." She revealed letting out a sigh, "I didn't.." She trailed off, "I completely gave up. Did Gbadamosi put a gun to your head and made you choose God or your life?" She asked and he laughed.

"So I can't give my life willing?"

"Looks that way." She replied in all honesty and he exhaled, "I guess I was in that position where I felt fucked up and I needed some sort of comfort and a little encouragement and sign that everything will be alright and I guess I had that moment. This isn't the place to talk about this."

"You're right. I'm already teary, I've prayed about this, dropped request upon request until I gave up. Looks like God finally read my letters." She answered and they both laughed.

"Maybe God was the one with the gun. I never thought I'll be alive to witness the day my son finally gets arrested by God."

"For the first time, I want to do things the right way. Sharon and I, we've made a decision to do things the proper way, and we're taking things slow. Gradually, we'll get there." Muyiwa lifted his hands in a gesture of sincerity. "I don't expect you to believe me but I pray that it works out. I really like Sharon."

"You should bring her home to see your father and I, then will completely believe you're serious with her." She replied, tapping her arms thoughtfully. Then, she placed a gentle hand on his cheek, her expression softening. "Take care." With a final smile, she turned and walked back to her friends, leaving Muyiwa standing there, a bit relieved.

Salome sat at a round table with her peers, her eyes were fixed on Kilahi and Gbadamosi who were seated laughing to their own jokes. Salome’s lips curled into a quiet scoff.

"The couples are so cute. They look good together" A woman complimented randomly.

"Who?" Salome asked, her tone laced with doubt. She seized the moment to unleash her venom. "Are you guys aware that the bride and her family didn't add a dime to this wedding you're seeing like this? Talk about marrying a liability." She spilled and her companions shifted uncomfortably, casting careful glances at one another, as if trying to distance themselves from the brewing conflict.

Mummy Fubara, a stout woman  raised an eyebrow, "How do you know?" She challenged, Salome shrugged, a dismissive gesture that spoke volumes. "Why won't I know? Do you know how much her salary is? Someone that isn't even earning up to 70k? How long has she been working before marriage! There's nothing you'll tell me; she married for money." Salome’s eyes sparkled malice and satisfaction as she delivered her verdict, but Mummy Fubara was not one to back down easily.

"What about..." Mummy Fubara wanted to raise an arguments against Salome's children but she was quickly cut off by one of the friends who glanced at her.

"It's well." She muttered a peaceful reply.

"My earnest prayer for the newlyweds, is one, I just hope they're compatible. The way the bride is looking so malnourished, I heard she didn't even hire a make up artiste. Poverty mentality!"

"Hey!" Mummy Fabara snapped, "What? Of course she couldn't afford it." Salome answered.

"Where you there when they were making arrangements?"

"I have eyes and ears everywhere. Of course she couldn't afford it,"

"Were you there when they were making arrangements?" The tension at the table thickened as Mummy Fubara repeated the question, and Salome’s lips curled into a smirk, her confidence unshaken.

"Like I said, I have eyes and ears everywhere," She retorted, her tone dripping with arrogance. She leaned forward, her fingers splayed on the table, emphasizing her point. "It was the way the priest was making a big deal about her virginity, like those that are not virgins should go and drown in water." The laughter that erupted from the other women was of  nervousness and surprise, one of the woman present too quickly interrupted her,

"How the virginity take concern you now ehn Mama Tatiana? Salo, no be you supposed dey vex. Na the young ladies suppose carry this thing for head. How the virginity take disturb you, abi you dey miss your own virginity ?" She joked and everyone laughed. She  cleared the tension in the air but Salome continued in spite.

"She might not even be a virgin; they should stop with all the hype. Maybe she's pretending. Let's give it time; her true colors will show." She answered in spite  and Mummy Fubara’s eyes narrowed, her lips pursed in disapproval.

"You don't mean it?" Mummy Fubara interjected,  Salome’s smile was cold, her eyes glinting with a cruel satisfaction. "You will be shocked. Well, I just pray that Gbadamosi hasn't used up his sperm after so many years of sleeping around. They might get married now and not be able to give birth to children." The women exchanged glances, a silent communication of shock and disapproval.

"If you didn't want to attend the wedding, you could have just stayed back, you know?" Mummy Fubara shot back, her voice firm. Another woman at the table pinched her, urging her to keep quiet, but she was undeterred.

"What!" She exclaimed, her voice rising slightly in indignation. "You guys don't want to talk; let someone talk now. If she didn't want to attend the wedding, she could have just stayed at home."

Salome scoffed, "Is it me that this small fish is talking to?" She retorted, her voice dripping with condescension. "My life is not as fried as yours, that I'm sure of. I mean, you'd think after all these years of complaining about how none of George's children are not married and how you have been interceding for them, one would at least think you'd cook up one false joy, sit quietly and enjoy the party, but no! All you've done is talk badly about the new couple. Did they use bad belle to do you?" Mummy Fubara’s face was flushed with so much anger, her hands clenched into fists on the table.

"Are you talking to me?" Salome asked, greatly offended.

"No oh me, Salome you need to pump your belle cause you are constipated with so much jealousy. Yes I said it, jea-lousy." She snapped.

"If not for class, I know what I would have said and done to you." Salome answered.

"Wo! You cannot do nkan nkan! (Nothing!), what class are you even talking about? Primary one or primary two. I cannot be in the same class with you Salome, no! Your bad belle has passed through university level, about to graduate cause if not, why you go pump chest?" She switched to pidgin in between.

"Weren't you a maid before your husband married you?" She added.

Mrs George approached the table waving at the women who instantly flashed a smile at her waving and cheering her on. "Congratulations!!!" Mummy Fubara yelled.

"I hope you all are settled in, is there anything you need? There's enough to go round Incase. I want to make sure everyone gets what they want?"

"We are okay oh! Mummy Temi of Lagos, God has really answered your prayers this year. I tap jare!" Mummy Fubara cheered dancing frantically on the chair.

"Some bad belle people will faint but no worries, we will catch them and pour water on them cause the day is a reality already. Congratulations oh!" She added and Mrs George smiled looking down at Salome.

"You seem rather uncomfortable."

Salome faked a smile, "I'm just enjoying the party as everyone. Congratulations."

Mrs George smiled, "Thank you for coming. Enjoy the rest of the party." She answered walking away and Mummy Fubara returned back to frowning at Salome.

"It's not a crime to be happy for other people's children. We all have grown up children too!" She continued and everyone at the table glanced at her to stop.

"We all know the only reason you're here is because there is  fire on your mountain, and you're looking for where to run and find shield."

The other women exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to diffuse the situation, "This is not the time and place for this." One of the women begged.

"Let's talk where the talk is, enough beating about the bush!" Mummy Fubara pressed on, her voice rising. "Salome here will come and feel like her life is better than everyone's life because she has what, grandchildren and rich in-laws. Wasn't she the one who went about telling everyone that my husband took a loan to pay rent? As if she followed him to get the loan."

"So all this is because of that shey? Mummy Fubby, you're immature."

"And you are a cheap liar and a gossip. Oh, because we don't talk, shey? I can't be around someone and be scared about what she'll say about me the moment I turn my head."

Salome’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she listened to Mummy Fubara’s rant. "This same Salome will come and say all sorts of rubbish about people as though her life is perfect," Mummy Fubara continued, her voice rising with each word. "Didn't you give your daughters to the highest bidders? You sold your daughters for money, and now you're here acting like everything is perfect as if we don't know the truth."

Salome clicked her tongue, "It's the audacity you have to talk. You're the least among everyone here; you're a struggling business owner," She shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. "At least I have a business and I know how to mind my business; I don't have to rely and drain my in-laws. Oops, you have one now since they arrested one."

Other women shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their eyes darting between the two combatants.

"You don't even have your own home, still renting at this age. Renters for life." Salome snapped back, "At least I have peace of mind," Mummy Fubara retorted, her voice steady despite the chaos. "My children have peace of mind; I'm not rushing anyone into marriage. The one that is married is doing fine. I'm a good mother, and I'm proud to say that. Can you call yourself one?"

Salome rose from her seat, her chair scraping against the floor, drawing the attention of nearby guests. "I won't sit here and listen to this insignificant thing insult me," She declared.

"We are not begging you to," Mummy Fubara snapped back, her eyes blazing with defiance. Salome picked her purse from the table, she turned on her heel, her as she stormed away from the table, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor.

"You'd think she'll even pretend to be happy. Talking rubbish since she got here," Mummy Fubara hissed under her breath, her expression a mix of anger and disdain as she watched Salome walk away.

As Pastor AmazingGrace and Bamidele stepped out to leave the reception grounds, Hilary hurried after them, clutching a bag of souvenirs. She took a deep breath to steady herself before approaching them before they drove off.

“Good evening, Ma,” Hilary greeted, her voice brightening as she caught Pastor AmazingGrace’s eye. “We didn’t expect you to leave so early Ma.”

“The triplets are at home, we need to get back even though they're being supervised.” AmazingGrace replied with a warm smile.

“Oh, I see! How are they doing, Ma’am?” Hilary asked, genuinely curious.

“Wonderful, we bless God. How is your boy? I saw him with Manny, it's hard to notice he's not the Father. I'm happy for him.”  "Yes Ma'am, he's doing well."

AmazingGrace smiled.

Hilary extended the bag of souvenirs toward her, “Please, Ma, we'll like you to have this. Or should I keep it inside the car?"

“No need." She replied receiving the souvenir, "Bridesmaid slash souvenir distributor.” AmazingGrace teased lightly, raising an eyebrow.

Hilary laughed, “Aunty Toyin put me up to it some minutes ago. She believes there’s something about my stature that scares people off, making them less likely to fight over souvenirs or come to me with unnecessary complaints.” She gestured to her own body. AmazingGrace was proud to see her growth, she appeared proud about her body unlike before.

“I’ll leave you to it now,” Hilary said, giggling as she turned to walk away. But then she paused, turning back to show AmazingGrace the ring on her finger. “I almost forgot!”

AmazingGrace smiled, her eyes lighting up. “I was wondering when you were going to show me that! I saw it on Pastor Gbadamosi's Status."

"I'm engaged, again." She shrieked in excitement. "You seem overly excited for or someone that didn't want it." AmazingGrace teased and she laughed in a shy manner.

"Fear women! Sometimes we don't even know what we want." She added provoking a cackle from Hilary.

“Sorry, Ma’am! I left the souvenirs unguarded for a moment and Aunty Toyin isn't there. The people available to watch them aren’t, well, let’s just say they’re not as buoyant and big as I am,” Hilary explained, her laughter ringing out again.

"I have to go back."

“Why are you worried about leaving those souvenirs unguarded when you’re hoarding them?” Pastor AmazingGrace replied, a teasing glint in her eye as she glanced at her husband and then back at Hilary who creased her brow in confusion. “I’m not hoarding any souvenirs! God forbid! If no one gives me any, I’m not keeping anything for myself. I don’t do that.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Pastor AmazingGrace said, her expression shifting as she turned to her husband and slowly mouthed, “Give me a minute.”

With a sharp look, she turned back to Hilary, her tone becoming more serious. “I know you’re doing well, and everything is falling into place for you. You just got engaged, you're building your own company l, congratulations, dear! It’s a wonderful thing. God doesn’t despise it; it’s all part of His plan. But do you know what He truly hates? When these shiny events begin to cloud our judgment concerning what He has called us to do. God wants me to ask you this: What have you done with the souvenirs He gave you to share with others?”

Hilary opened her mouth in surprise, utterly confused. “I’m lost. What do you mean?”

“When God delivered you completely, He handed you souvenirs—many of them, in fact. They were meant for women and people who are going through similar situations to what you experienced. So when I talk about souvenirs, I’m not only referring to the physical items we hand out at events. These souvenirs represent the blessings, experiences, and lessons that God has given you throughout your journey. Each one is a testament to His grace and mercy in your life. They are not meant to be hoarded or kept to yourself; they are meant to be shared. You were supposed to go out into the world and preach the gospel of how God saved you, so that those who are in your shoes will know there’s salvation for them in Christ. But how will they know if you remain silent about it?”

Hilary’s eyes widened in shock. “I didn’t know! You never mentioned it.” “You stopped coming, Hilary and maybe you're not listening to God.” AmazingGrace replied gently.

“I got busy,” Hilary defended herself, her voice faltering.

“You can't be too busy for God Hilary but that isn’t the point,” Pastor AmazingGrace said, her tone firm yet compassionate.

"I know it can be overwhelming especially when it's the beginning of your career. The point is to get to know God for yourself intentionally, not just by chance. There’s so much God wants to do with you, and simply playing the basic Christian life isn’t going to cut it. Waking up, doing your devotional, and praying at night isn’t enough.”

Hilary laughed nervously, it was like God gave Pastor AmazingGrace express foresight to her daily routine!

“I’ve got work,” Hilary said, her voice tinged with frustration and shame.

“God isn’t asking you to drop your work. He’s saying you need to reach out. If Manny hadn’t reached out to you when God told him to—let’s say God did tell him—what would have become of you? You might have committed suicide, and you wouldn’t have this beautiful life that God has mapped out for you. I don’t see many souvenirs in your hands anymore. In this kingdom, if God finds you faithful with the little he has given you, he gives you more.  The rest are old and dusty. You might need to clean them up and get ready to give them to their rightful owners. Enough wasting time!”

Hilary shrugged, her expression uncertain. “How am I supposed to reach out? Should I just walk around the street or... I don’t know.”

“Don’t ask me; ask God. He’ll show you,” Pastor AmazingGrace replied, her voice softening as she embraced Hilary. “Great grace He has unleashed upon you. Congratulations once again, Hilary.” She smiled warmly as she walked toward the car with the souvenirs.

Hilary watched them drive off, emotions swirled within her. She sighed and looked heavenward, feeling the weight of Pastor AmazingGrace’s words settle in her heart.

In a quiet corner of the park outside the event center, Sefa and Ire were settled on a wooden bench,  Her eyes glistened with shed tears, remnants of the emotional storm she had just weathered while recounting her experience with Alonso.

Ire, noticing her distress, reached into his pocket and pulled out a soft handkerchief, offering it to her with a gentle smile. "Here, take this," He offered softly.

Sefa accepted the handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. "Thank you," She murmured, her voice shaky. Ire placed his hands over hers.

"The good part is that Faith is there with him," Ire said,  "The bad part is the waiting. But if you were led to this moment, then God has it all under control. After all, the heart of a king is in God's hands, and just like the rivers of water, He turns it however He wills."

Sefa sighed, relieved and uncertain. "You know your mom will be furious if she finds out I let him go," She assumed in worry.

Ire shrugged nonchalantly and playfully.  "Who's going to tell her? It’s not like we’re broadcasting it."

"I promised to keep her in the loop about everything," Sefa replied, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I'm sure she'll understand," He answered, a teasing smile creeping onto his face. "Or maybe she’ll secretly wish he was caught, just like I’m wishing right now."

Sefa couldn’t help but laugh at his candidness, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. "That aside," He said, "Did I mention you look really stunning today?"

Sefa's cheeks flushed slightly, a smile brightening her face. "Aunty Kilahi made this dress for me. Can you believe it?"

"Whoa, what kind of magic does she work? I know brides are usually swamped with preparations," Ire replied, genuinely impressed.

Sefa chuckled, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia. "And I can be a bit relentless! I practically stood on her head to get this done, even if it meant sewing every single day. I’ve never had to pay a dime to sew. I’m really going to miss Aunty Kilahi." Suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes again, and she burst into tears. Ire instinctively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "Let it out, let it out," He murmured, gently patting her back as she cried.

After a moment, Sefa pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief. "I’m sorry. My emotions are all over the place today," She admitted, a sheepish smile breaking through her tears.

Ire chuckled softly, his gaze meeting hers for a brief moment before he cleared his throat and looked away,  "Can we... go back to the party?" He asked.

Sefa nodded, her heart racing a little. "Good idea. I was, um..." She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "I was going to suggest the same thing."

With a shared understanding, they stood up together and made their way back to the party.

Bella walked slowly into her room, she could no longer contain her tears. She couldn't even make it back to the party. She has been stuck in a one and half hour traffic. She lifted her pillow throwing it away then pulled out her bedsheet flinging across the room then she crashed on her bed bursting into loud tears.

The ornate iron gates of Gbadamosi's compound swung open, as he steered his car into the driveway, the gravel crunching satisfyingly under the tires. He parked precisely within the lines, a satisfied smile curving his lips as he turned to Kilahi, his bride of mere hours. "Welcome home," He murmured tenderly,  his eyes locking with hers.

Opulent was already there opening Gbadamosi's door. "Welcome, Sir," He offered, his voice low and respectful.

"Thank you, Opulent," Gbadamosi acknowledged, his gaze shifting back to Kilahi. He watched, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth, as Kilahi reached for her door handle.

"My love," He chuckled, leaning towards her, his voice a rich baritone, "I was going to open it. Can't you sense the romance?"

Kilahi laughed, "I don't want to end up asking you in two weeks, Choicest, why aren't you opening the door for me again. Thank you very much," She teased, her hand opening the door.

"Good evening, Ma," Opulent greeted, his eyes fixed on her with a polite sincerity.

"Good evening," Kilahi replied, her voice soft and warm. "You didn't show up for the wedding." "I turned up for the church wedding. I had to come back to man by duty post. Welcome home Ma," He finished, offering her a small bow.

Kilahi smiled, her eyes sweeping across the compound; a modern masterpiece of glass and stone. It still felt like a dream!

Gbadamosi glanced at Opulent, "Have they delivered her things?" He asked, the question casual but laced with anticipation.

"Yes, Sir," Opulent replied, reaching into his pocket for the keys. He handed them to Gbadamosi with a small, knowing smile.

"Thank you, Opulent," Gbadamosi said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Gbadamosi walked behind the car, the trunk creaked open, revealing a small bag with a zip. Opulent stepped forward to assist, but Gbada waved him off. He wanted to enter the house alone with his wife, to savor this moment of quiet intimacy.

With the bag clutched firmly in one hand, Gbada reached out with the other, he took Kilahi's hand in his and ushered her towards the house. Rose petals,  were scattered across the marble floor. She noticed her bags were in the sitting room.

Kilahi laughed,  "Really?" She asked, her voice laced with playful disbelief.

"What can I say? Your husband is a hopeless romantic," He declared, his voice thick with affection, pulling her closer.

"I love the sound of that, my husband," She murmured, leaning into him, her fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "My husband." She repeated, the words felt like a sweet melody on her lips. It made Gbadamosi's heart race with pride.

"My wife," He responded, and they both erupted into a fit of happy giggles.

"This feels surreal," Kilahi admitted, her eyes wide with an almost childlike wonder. "I'm scared someone will pinch me and just be like, 'Wake up Kilahi, it was all a dream!'"

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling, “Is this enough to convince you?” He asked, gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. Then, he lowered his head, his eyes searching hers, and he parted his lips, inviting her in for a kiss. She responded immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as if to bind them even tighter.

His hands, previously cupping her face, slid down her back, settling at her waist, then daringly moved down to her backside. She gasped, a small, surprised sound, her eyes widening in shock before he pulled back, a playful smirk on his face.

"I guess now I'm convinced," She whispered, her cheeks flushed, stepping away from him, a smile dancing on her lips.

"Welcome, officially, to my humble abode," He announced, gesturing around him.

Kilahi felt tears welling in her eyes, her chest aching with emotion. "I'm so grateful to God right now," She confessed, her voice thick with emotion. She moved to embrace him, her arms clinging to him as if afraid he'd disappear. "God has surprised me today in ways that blows my mind, my colleagues, the number of my colleagues that came, Mrs Mba, Mrs Aisha and her husband. Specially, God was there and you graced the occasion too. Imagine the way God  honored this small girl. Choicest, I'm in awe," She exclaimed, pulling back to look at him, her eyes full of love and gratitude.

“Same here,” He whispered, “I’m grateful for the gift of you, my love.”

Kilahi chuckled, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand. “I was going to say the same thing,” She responded, letting out a contented sigh.

“What should we do now?" She asked, her brow furrowed in contemplation.  "Pray? Count the money we were given? Or..." She trailed off, then she scratched her neck, a nervous habit she picked up on entering the house.

Gbadamosi laughed, a low rumble in his chest,  "This is really making you uncomfortable, isn't it?" He asked, amused by her anxiety.

"Toor, you're really enjoying this my cluelessness bah?." She accused and he chuckled, "Intrigue in the word."

She sighed rolling her eyes, "Give me a break! This is my first time being alone with a man in his house, without supervision," She confessed, her gaze dropping to the floor before she tilted her head and put her arm around his neck. "Or my first time having a man invade my backside," She added playfully.

"You don't want me to invade?" He asked, his voice a soft challenge, a hint of possessiveness in his gaze.
Gbadamosi cleared his throat, "After I climbed the hills of Markurdi, the plains and mountains of that desert in that your village." "Which desert again? Sahara desert?" She asked laughing.

"Even if it was Sahara desert I would have still gone. I climbed the hills, mountains in Obi local government and you guys bad road, that was the highlight in our traditional marriage, I got back, I didn't claim my rights cause I still needed to dedicate you in front of God's altar so that I can possess full right to invade." He exaggerated and she laughed nervously.

“Babe, chill. No one can drag property right with you, well except the owner of the property."  She teased watching his eyes lit up in interest, "Not like i intends dragging it. It's your property, you don't need a warrant to invade it, just take it easy with me," She replied, pulling away, her cheeks flushed.

“Go easy on me, you know.” She whispered, her tone, almost pleading.

"Your wish is my command."

Without another word, she stepped closer to him, pressing her lips to his. Her breath hitched as the soft pressure of his lips met hers. It was explorative, different from their previous kiss. For a moment they just stood still, enveloped in the newness, the potential that lay between them.

He lifted her, his hands gripping her thighs, and she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist, the gown she wore was tight and uncomfortable but a shiver of excitement ran down her spine. His fingers slowly worked their way down her waistline, caressing her hip. He moved to the curve of her neck, his lips caressing her ear, and when he heard her moan, he quickly dropped her.

“You know what, let’s pray,” He suggested, his voice slightly breathy, as if he too had been caught up in the moment.

She blinked, her eyes wide, "What's that?" She asked, a note of genuine confusion in her voice.

"What's what?" He questioned, his brow furrowed.

"Why did you say let's pray?" She asked, her initial surprise quickly turning into a nervous apprehension. When she realized how she sounded, her eyes widened in guilt, “I’m..not saying, we should not... like we should not pray or…” She paused, scratching her neck again.

"Why did you stop?" She asked, her voice gentle, his eyes studying her with an almost unsettling intensity.

"You said we should take it slow. I'm taking it slow. Why? Is there something you'd like to communicate?” He asked, his cheeks flushing again as he tried to hide his smile, but her face held an expression of uncertainty. She watched him smile,  and she felt a tug of mockery. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

"Hm? Is there anything I'll like to communicate? No. Nothing," She mumbled sticking her tongue out then she looked away, her cheeks still lushed.

"Are you sure? Communication helps, and I want you to talk when you feel a certain way," He said, softly and sincerely.

"Choicest, see ehn, I didn't want to say anything before, It’s my God that'll judge you" She snapped pointing her fingers at him, "Cause I don't see how one minute ehn... Toor, you knew I was enjoying it and you stopped. Choicest you stopped, Really? Is that how you want to start this?" She teased, her voice playful, her eyes dancing with mischievous light.

"Gosh, you're so carnal. Chill, we have forever."

"Ouch." She feigned hurt then she laughed, "Wow, I'm carnal. You that wanted us to close by six so we can have time to ourselves."

"That wasn't how I put it."

"Remind me."

"Let's pray first," He declared with a wink that had her rethinking about the prayer.

“Choicest, avoid me. You’re wicked,” She pouted, withholding a giggle then she watched him laugh, his head thrown back. He moved towards his piano and sat on the stool, a few chords filling the air. She stood a distance away and admired his frame, his shoulders straight, fingers dancing on the keys, and her heart swelled with a love she couldn't fully express with words.

“Is this what other married couples do? I’ve watched many videos, and no one spoke about playing the keyboard,” She mused, genuinely curious.

“Come on, let’s just pray. Why are you being so carnal? It's a spiritual moment." "You did something bad, now I'm carnal one right?" "What did I do?" He asked obviously enjoying himself.

Kilahi touched her neck lost for words to describe how she felt, "Avoid me." "I'm sorry but where we’re going, there's no coming back from it. Before distraction comes in, let's just take some time and… thank God for today and what he's about to start.” He trailed off, seeing the blatant torture in her eyes, and then he laughed, shaking his head at her.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” She replied, her voice a husky whisper, settling beside him on the bench. Suddenly, the familiar chords of “Firm foundation"

He raised the chorus of the song, his voice gaining a gentle strength, "Great is your faithfulness, to me"

Kilahi, her eyes shining, joined him, her voice a harmony to his, "From the rising sun, to the setting same, I will praise your name. Great is your faithfulness to me."

The music ushered them into a moment of intense prayer and thanksgiving.

Afterwards he led Kilahi towards the bedroom while lifting her luggage. She held a small bag. The trail of rose petals, like a secret invitation, led the way. Kilahi gasped softly. Red balloons bobbed on the floor of the bedroom.

Scented candles, promising romance, stood unlit, waiting for the spark.

Gbadamosi moved with a quiet grace, filling the room with an ambient melody from the built-in sound system. Then, he took a metal lighter which was which just beside the candle. The flame danced as he carefully lit each candles. Kilahi moved closer, drawn in by the flickering light. She noticed the candles were custom-made, engraved with a delicate script: "Kilahi & Gbadamosi, Forevermore."

"Awn, this is sweet. I'll have to give you an E for effort and an R for romantic," She breathed, her voice laced with amusement and genuine appreciation.

"E and R?" He murmured, a playful frown creasing his brow as he gently pulled her closer.

She giggled, leaning into his embrace. "God forbid sha, but a ride in the ER is where I might be headed in a couple of minutes because this is all breathtaking. You're just taking my breath away anyhow!"

He shifted, his gaze locking with hers. He traced her lower lip with the pad of his thumb, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers down her spine.

"You're kind of right," He whispered, "About what?" She asked, her eyes half-closed, a flicker of uncertainty.

"You might be losing more breath in a couple of hours. So... trust me, things are about to get…intimate. There might be things you're not familiar with, but they're all designed to, awaken all your senses, and"

Kilahi rolled her eyes playfully, boldness igniting within her. "I know what foreplay is, Gbadamosi. Why are we making this a lecture? Less talk, more action." She answered sharply and he laughed, "Where is this morale coming from?" A full, killer smile bloomed on his face.

He captured her mouth, tilting her head back, and kissed her deeply. A wave of desire washed over him, a longing so intense it almost startled him. His hand found her waist, then slowly, deliberately, moved upwards, cupping the soft curve of her through her dress.

Kilahi reeled, her senses overwhelmed. Gbadamosi wanted her as much as she wanted him too and she could see through him!

The realization landed with the force of a physical revelation, not because she didn't think she was attractive, but because it was him. Gbadamosi, one of the people who had rekindled her wavering faith, the man whose sermons resonated within her soul, the man she had placed on a pedestal of spirituality. He was now stirring something primal within her, the feeling of wanting him felt amazing and strange at the same time.

She had admired him from afar, fallen in love with his wisdom, his unwavering faith, the way his voice thundered with a passion for God. That powerful voice that now whispered sweet talk. The pressure of his lips against her, his caresses had unlocked a secret part of her she hadn't known existed, a hidden well of sensuality that threatened to overflow, changing her perception about everything she knew.

Gbadamosi's hand, warm and firm, moved slowly up her spine, each deliberate touch sending shivers coursing through her. Then, the soft rasp of the zipper on her dress, sent a jolt of almost panic through her nerves.

"Choicest…" She breathed, her voice barely audible. She gently pushed against his chest, creating a small but significant space between them. "We…we need to shower first." The words felt clumsy, wholly inadequate to express the inner turmoil that raged within her. She needed time, if only a few minutes, to reconcile the spiritual man she referenced with the passionate lover who now awakened her deeply.

His intense gaze held questions and  a hint of playful desire still lingered. "Let’s do that," He replied with a grin. 

Kilahi’s eyes widened slightly, alarm bells starting to ring in her mind, he wondered why her husband was smiling suspiciously, "No, not…not together." She laughed.

"We'll definitely get there, eventually, but not now, not like this. I…I need my bag, first." She pointed at the small bag, "It has my towel, soap.."

"There's an extra towel in the bathroom." He said softly, his gaze unwavering. He seemed to be reading her, trying to decipher the shift that had taken place in her demeanor. He knew her well enough to understand that he probably scared her.

Kilahi scratched the back of her neck,  "I don't know if I can use…" The sentence trailed off, unfinished. How could she articulate the conflicting emotions tearing at her? How could she explain the feeling of being both irresistibly drawn to him and utterly terrified of what this new, unexpected desire meant and what was bound to happen.

Fear is that you?

"The towel is new." Gbadamosi pointed out.

Gbadamosi stepped forward, his presence filling the space between them once more. " You should go shower first, Kilahi. Relax. Let the water wash away all this…this tension. And then…come relax with me."’ He offered, his voice laced with gentle concern.

"Thanks," She managed to say, "But… maybe you should shower first." The words tumbled out, a hasty attempt to deflect the intensity of his gaze. She quickly turned away, hoping to conceal the deepening flush that had returned with a vengeance to her cheeks.

She watched him, as he began to undress. First, he took off the bag clutch on him, the elaborate shirt sleeve agbada, the  embroidered fabric that had made him look every inch the handsome groom. Then the inner top.  He paused, his expression teasing.

"When you think she’s going to cover her eyes for this part but you turn to see she's still looking at you." He commented playfully.

She couldn't help but laugh, the sound a little shaky, a little breathless. She averted her gaze, her fingers drumming nervously against her thigh.

"Even though, can't I look my own husband."

He chuckled,  "The things you find out about your woman after just seven hours of being married," He added, continuing to disrobe. Now left in nothing but a tight shorts. He proceeded to taking off his wrist watch, neck chain, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Feel free to look and tell me, did you get what you ordered for?" He asked and she smiled, "Twirl a bit." She requested and he did stretching his hands like a supermodel.

"Is it exactly what you ordered for?" He asked and she bit her lower lip, "I'm to use a scripture to answer that question, I'll say Ephesians 3:20" She answered and he laughed throwing his head backwards.

"Exceedingly and abundantly. God dey create abeg." He hyped himself. "I've forgotten you have pride." She replied and he winked at her.

He then hung his clothes with care in the wardrobe. "I didn't imagine I'd be taking off my own Agbada, on my own in the first place. I thought you'd rip it off me."

"You didn't ask. I was even in the mood of tearing something sef."

He laughed entering into the bathroom. She was already halfway into the bathroom when he paused, leaning against the doorframe. "Don’t think for a second you’ll be the one taking off that gown. I want to do you the honors." The words, delivered with another playful wink which  made her breath hitch in her throat for the second time that evening.

As he disappeared into the bathroom  Kilahi touched her lips, the lingering memory of his kiss still a raw, potent reminder of the confusing, intoxicating power he held over her.

She lifted her small overnight bag and placed it on the bed, her hands suddenly clumsy. Opening it, she ran her fingers distractedly through her hair, trying to still the frantic thoughts that were swirling in her mind. His words echoed in her ears, sending tiny jolts of electricity through her system.

She had been planning to slip into the bathroom discreetly, gown clutched to her chest, ready for a quick and efficient shower. But if he was going to undress her… how would she even walk into the bathroom? The anxieties she’d tried so hard to suppress throughout the day surged forward, fueled by the anticipation and vulnerability that permeated the room. The fears about her scars, desperately clawed at her confidence.

Will he still be attracted when he sees those wounds?

2 Corinthians 10:5 popped into her mind:
"I Cast down every imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God in my life, and i bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." She shook her head, attempting to banish the unwanted thoughts. "I cast you out! In Jesus name." She snapped.

She pulled out the red lingerie the girls had gotten her the satin cool and smooth against her trembling fingers. "Brenda called you, 'to the moon and back.' At least, even though I can't completely take him to the moon and back," She muttered to herself, summoning a shaky bravado, "Let him at least ascend. I'll take off like a pilot, a damn good pilot, and I won't be scared until I get to destination." She was recalling the avalanche of advice she had received from her friends and family.

"No crash-landing in Jesus name. Amen!" She sighed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. She laid back, exhaling in a rush of worry and anticipation, clutching the lingerie in her hand.

"God you know these things, you created sex, I cannot know more than you. You have to teach me what to do. I can't figure it on my own." Her gaze drifted towards the bathroom door. She could hear the rush of water and the sound of Gbadamosi's voice, singing beautifully in the shower.

"How many years is he using to bath?" She whispered, a yawn escaping her lips. "Where is my phone? It's true oh, where is that phone ? Wo, God, I'm exhausted." She closed her eyes for a moment, fatigue weighing heavily on her.

Gbadamosi emerged from the bathroom a while later, dancing slightly, a towel wrapped securely around his waist, water droplets glistening on his skin. He was met with the unexpected sight of his wife, sound asleep on the bed. He paused in his tracks, a wide, amused grin spreading across his face.

She wasn’t sleeping comfortably, her brow slightly furrowed, her grip tight on the lingerie. He gently eased the silk fabric from her hand, his smile softening. He lifted it, examining the delicate lace, a spark of desire flicking through his eyes. He tossed it aside, a silent promise of another day.

What's the rush?

He climbed onto the bed with careful movements, mindful not to wake her. He gently pushed her until her head rested on the pillow. He smiled, running his fingers lightly along her cheek the he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Good night, my love," He muttered, staring at her with so much affection.

Kilahi stirred in her sleep letting out a sigh.

What do you guys think of today's update?

😂😂

Finally right? We finally said I do oh!!!! Online in laws how una dey?