(Episode 3) The Battle For Souls … A Survivor’s Tale

(Episode 3) The Battle For Souls...A Survivor's Tale

Bishop Hezekiah sat on his seat which was a window seat. He loved window seats because it allowed him the pleasure of the clouds and the sky. He brought out his I-pad and started tapping some notes into it as the plane prepared for takeoff. He shook his head, as he tried to concentrate. The man seated on the aisle seat behind him was distracting him. He turned in annoyance and saw the man’s head was bowed. On listening closely, he realized that the man was crying. He looked the man over then turned back to his seat. “What will be making a grown man cry like this, shamelessly and publicly? I can’t concentrate…blood of Jesus!” he stared at the scantily dressed girl taking her seat across from him. “Daughter of Jezebel!” he thought as he watched her seat down. He felt himself harden at the sight of the girl’s breast pushing at her small top. He quickly turned back to his I-pad.

Announcement came on the intercom welcoming the passengers and wishing them a wonderful flight. Bishop Hezekiah tried to concentrate on his notes but still couldn’t. He looked at the girl from the corner of his eyes, admiring her unblemished skin. His eyes roved from her laps up to her stomach peeking through her top, then to her face and met her eyes. Jesus! She caught me. She’s so pretty and sweet.” He winked at the girl and smiled.

Osato looked at him and hissed. She searched through her bag, brought out her earphone and covered her ears with it and was soon immersed in whatever song made girls tingle these days.

Jackson: “excuse me sir, is this for you?” he asked.

Bishop Hezekiah turned to see the crying man stretching a piece of paper to him. He looked at the paper with mild surprise. He could not remember missing any sheet of paper from the ones in his suitcase or from the ones he had placed on the armrest with which he was writing his notes.

Bishop Hezekiah: “I am sorry but, I didn’t drop any piece of paper.” He replied turning away from the man.

Jackson: “I believe it is from the sermon, your personal assistant proofread for you this morning.” He said, his hand still stretched towards Bishop Hezekiah.

Bishop Hezekiah turned again and looked at the man, this time with shock written on his face. He looked around the plane but no one was paying any attention to what they were doing. The first class section wasn’t too full fortunately, so most persons had their seats to themselves. Some seats were even empty. “How did you know that I was with my personal assistant this morning?” he asked, fear in his eyes. “What does this stranger know? God…” he thought to himself.

Jackson: “take the paper sir.” He said, ignoring the question.

Bishop Hezekiah took the piece of paper with worry and looked at it. He gasped in surprise at what was written on it. It read, do you like the pretty slut across you?’ he looked at the girl quickly. She had her eyes closed and the ear piece still stuck in her ears. He turned back to the man

Bishop Hezekiah: “young man what is this supposed to mean? Are you aware that I am a man of God?” he asked in annoyance tinged with worry.

Jackson looked at him for several seconds then handed over a phone to him. Bishop Hezekiah looked from the phone to him.

Bishop Hezekiah: “what is this?” he asked as he collected the phone from the man.

Jackson: “The Sermon on the Mount” he whispered, grinning.


Osasu sat with Mummy Uyi in the prophet’s sitting room. The sitting stank of damp and dust; the walls stained with charcoal and pencil scratches paraded them. The ceiling was dark with cobwebs and the curtains brown and tattered with age.

Osasu sat on the edge of the chair which had broken springs with the foam spilling out from its torn wrapping. “All these prophets and witch doctors sef… They prophesy and claim to help people but they cannot help themselves…look at this one’s sitting room? He can’t keep it clean. I hope I don’t catch something here o.” she thought to herself as she turned around her eyes roving all over. The Prophet was yet to appear.

Osasu: “sister, what are we doing here?” she asked in worry.

Mummy Uyi: “finding solution. Bible say heaven help those who help dem self.” She replied, squinting into her large bag. “Where I put my handkerchief, this place hot?” She continued, muttering to herself.

Osasu: “Sister na themselves no be dem self.” She murmured, correcting the older woman’s attempt at speaking English.

Mummy Uyi: “mama English koyor…since I go Italy, Ebo never tell me say my English no correct o. Na you wey never comot Benin since mama born you na wan correct me. Abegi…” she replied, still hunting through her bag.

Osasu moved to give her elder sister a retort when a rat eaten curtain parted and the prophet stepped in. Osasu’s mouth hung open in surprise; the man was blind. He was escorted by a boy of about twelve years, who took him to a seat and sat him down. The boy greeted them and left immediately.

Prophet: “your husband will not leave you.” he said suddenly.

Osasu turned back to the prophet in shock. She had been admiring the polite boy. “What! How did he know that?”  She thought then she turned to her elder sister and looked at her with suspicion. “Did sister tell him before we came?” she asked herself.

Prophet: “your sister did not tell me anything. I have a solution to your problem.” He said slowly.

Mummy Uyi looked at Osasu and eyed her slowly. Osasu’s face flushed red with shame. “How did he know what I was thinking? Wow!” she thought.

Osasu: “sir, I don’t want to lose my husband. He is my life. If I could just get pregnant now, it would have solved it but that is impossible…” she replied, her voice sounding hollow in her ears.

Prophet: “I will tell you what to do and your husband will come back to you whether you have a child or not. That other girl will not snatch him away from you. Don’t worry. Yemi!” he replied and smiled; his crooked teeth shining in the morning light.


Pastor Jeremiah sat with the babalawo deep in his village. He had rushed down immediately he finished with Rebecca, the Bishop’s personal assistant. “The girl sure knows her place in the scheme of things. When I become General Overseer, I am going to add her to my prayer band.” He thought to himself as he watched the babalawo carry out his rituals.

The babalawo soon finished mixing herbs and speaking incantations. He turned to Pastor Jeremiah

Babalawo: “My pikin, naim be dis. When you say your oga dey return from the meeting?” the man asked, showing Pastor Jeremiah a small leaf wrapped parcel.

Pastor Jeremiah: “we have a meeting of regional pastors on Wednesday next week. He will be back by latest Tuesday.” He replied, confidently.

Babalawo: “you go lick small of the merecin wey dey inside this leaf so, then you go rub small for the girl breast. Make sure say the girl dey to welcome am o. as soon as he put mouth for her breast, anything wey you tell am na e go dey do.” He said, handing the parcel over to Pastor Jeremiah.

Pastor Jeremiah thanked him and got up to leave but the babalawo stopped him

Babalawo: “one more thing; as soon as you talk wit the merecin for your mouth give your oga, the girl go die.” He said quietly, looking at Pastor Jeremiah with beady eyes.

Pastor Jeremiah stood, shocked then he nodded and walked out of the shrine. “It is just sex after all. There are many beautiful well endowed girls in the church and outside the church. It is a sacrifice for a good cause.” he thought to himself.


Rebecca, sat watching her boyfriend as he scrolled through the video and the pictures on her phone. The choirmaster, Pius was a handsome young man and he knew it. He took very good care of himself; always well dressed with nice fragrance sprayed on his body complementing all these with his great voice, he was to die for. Rebecca was ready to die for him.

Pius: “so which of the pictures did you send to Jackson?” he asked his eyes intent on the pictures.

Rebecca: “the one with Bishop. I did not send Pastor Jeremiah’s own as it was not actually a part of the plan.”

Pius nodded his head.

Rebecca: “did I do well, my love?” she asked, her eyes roving hungrily all over him.

Pius: “you performed excellently, my dear. Excellently.” He replied, his eyes still on the pictures.

Rebecca glowed and placed her head on his shoulder.

Pius: “We are going to be rich.” He said rubbing her shoulders. “Very, very rich.” He continued and smiled.

Question: Do you think Rebecca is being used as a pawn? Do you think Pastor Jeremiah will be successful with his plan?

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