Dial episode 9 – 10

DIAL

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Sequence 9

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I was scared, for the very first time in my life.

I first made an inspection of all the locks, and found that they were locked from the in,side, securely, and there wasn’t any forced entry.

So, first fear factor: Nana Bosomba had not broken into the room to have a devilish dinner with me.

I remembered the strange white door that had appeared behind his chair and he had disappeared through.

Second fear factor: the white pots were still in the room, with the remains of the food and the napkin, right down to my oil-smeared fingers; so the experience had been real.

I fought down the panic, and tried to see everything objectively.

Akos had told me what a powerful fetish priest her father was, and now I was seeing it for real. What she had said had been an understatement, of course, because what I was witnessing was more than powerful.

The man was terrible.

Thus, I looked at it objectively; yes, I had a problem, a really big scary problem.

There was a sure solution available: go to Wowo, marry a corpse, spend one night with the corpse in a room, and that would be that. And I had just one week to do it.

Question was, could I do it?

Answer was: no.

I just couldn’t do a thing like that.

So what next?

I had never been a religious person. I never bothered my head with Christian stuff, and frankly religion didn’t matter to me. But I had seen some of these things in local movies, which I watched occasionally, and I knew that ultimately, the only way to combat such evil effectively was to have God’s help.

I didn’t know God, but there were powerful men of God around. I was a millionaire, and money wasn’t a problem. So it was a simple an-lysis in the end. I would find a powerful man of God, give him some money, let him deal with this spiritual stuff, and then I would be free.

With the decision made I felt a little better.

I bunched up the stained bedsheets and took them to the living-room. I took the strange white pots, the napkin and the white envelope containing the necklace and ring, and dumped all of them on the bedsheets.

Next I tied all of them up in a bunch and carried it out of the room to the garage and dumped it there.

I then went back to the bedroom where Vida was just stirring.

I got clean sheets from her wardrobe and carefully made the bed again, and then I lifted her and put her on the bed. She stirred restlessly, her face furrowed with fear, and I held her for a while until she stopped fretting.

I went to the bathroom and took a cold shower without soap and sponge. I just stood under the spray and let it hose me down for a long time, and then I dried myself and returned to the bedroom.

Vida was awake, and her eyes were fixed on me with great panic in them.

“What is going on, Yao?” she asked, and the terror was cloaking her like a second skin. “I don’t understand! What’s this? At first I thought that maybe my husband had invoked some terrible spiritual curse on me, but then I saw that strange food on your fingers and on your l-ips! It has to do with you! That was why you were scre-ming in your sleep. What’s going on, Yao?”

“It’s my fault, Vida,” I said slowly.

Somehow, her terror was affecting me and driving my fear up to uncomfortable levels, and so I told her a loosely factual story about a disgruntled business partner who had threatened me with spiritual attacks.

She looked at me silently, and I knew that she had accepted my story, and somehow it had restored a bit of her sanity, and it was something she could live with.

“These things are real, Yao Biko,” she said tremulously. “You just don’t know how evil some people can be. You have to take it seriously and get help otherwise it will get worse.”

“Yeah, love, I’m beginning to see just how deadly it all is,” I said miserably.

“I know a very powerful man of God,” she said at length. “Apostle Jacob Williams, founder of the Pawa Yesu Fire Ministries. I can give you his card. He’s powerful, filled with the power of God. He can deliver you.”

“I’ll appreciate that very much, Vida,” I said with some relief.

She came close to me, and I held her tightly.

It was dawn now, and we had both been exposed to something really scary, and so we clung to each other for comfort. Eventually, her l-ips found mine, and we started k-ssing.

And then, soon enough, the passion reared again between us, and she turned me on my back gently and mounted me.

She didn’t say those silly words again to me, and we made slow passionate love that dawn.

She slept, but I didn’t.

I was scared to the very roots of my life.

In the morning, she wanted me to stay, but I wanted to leave. For one, my libido was suddenly gone, and I didn’t want to be with her. My panic had soared during the time we finished making love to the time I got up and dressed.

She gave me the complimentary card of Apostle Williams, and then we went to the garage. She took the bundle of bedsheets and the pots I had put there in the boot of the car.

When she drove out she deposited it in the huge trash bin outside her house, and then she took me to the terminal where I retrieved my car.

She looked at me with huge w-t eyes, and then she hugged me and smiled sadly.

“Take care of yourself, Yao,” she whispered. “Please, go and see the man of God.”

I nodded, feeling so claustrophobic in her presence.

We parted ways, and as I drove towards Accra I found the fear creeping up on me again, and that was when I began to get angry.

So I met a girl, lied to her, bedded her!

And now an unfortunate thing had happened. Fine. In a way I was indirectly responsible, but that was no reason why that old man should seek to show me dark powers like what he did in Vida’s room.

Two could really play that game.

I took out the small card Vida had given me, and then I called Apostle Jacob Williams.

“My friend, you’re under supreme spiritual attack from a very dangerous being!” the man said as soon as he picked my call, and tears almost came to my ears with the shocking relief I felt.

“You already know my problem?” I whispered with gratitude.

He laughed gently.

“No, Mr. Yao Biko!” he said in a warm voice. “Vida called and informed me.”“Oh,” I said and wiped my eyes quickly.

So that was how he knew.

“I sense disappointment in your voice, Mr. Biko!” the man of God said in his warm voice again. “Don’t worry, Mr. Biko. The Lord we serve reveals-ah to redeem-ah! I say to you, the Deeevil is a liiiiar! Hogboshokolibabaaa! We are goina to shooow-ah the devil-ah the red card-ah! Come see me tomorrow mooorning-ah, and we’ll bind-ah the devil-ah that-ah doesn’t want you-aah to have peace mind-ah!”

Once again, his positivity relaxed me, and I promised to see him the following day.

I was happy and relieved when we finally ended the conversation.

Naturally, with the doom lifted, I began to breathe easier, and I began to get hungry. I stopped over at a cafeteria, locked my car doors with the remote, and went in for some sweet breakfast.

I took my time over it and enjoyed it.

Almost one hour later, I came out of the cafeteria and went to the car park. I used the remote to unlock the doors, and then I reached out and opened the door.

I froze.

The fear slammed up from my toes and roughed up my thighs, body chest and then became lodged in the pit of my throat. For one brief moment I almost collapsed at what I saw on the seat of the car!

It was a white clay bowl.

There was no food in it, only a white envelope that contained the necklace and the ring, exactly like the one Nana Bosomba had left for me!

I slammed the door shut and looked around me with terror on my face!

What was happening?

What had happened?

Had I forgotten to lock the car door with the remote and someone had played such a sickening trick on me?

But no, it wasn’t a trick!

I remembered that whilst eating I had been pressing the lock key repeatedly and faintly hearing my car responding!

No, it had been locked…but someone had entered and played a most foul trick on me!

I was sweating and couldn’t breathe!

I took slow, lethargic steps from the car as my heart thudded with fear.

Forcing calm over my body, I took out my phone and called Apostle Williams again. In very scared tones I told him of the horror that had happened.

“Oh, I knew it-ha! Oh, the devil-ah is a liar-ah! Yees, the devil-ah is a liaaaaar-ah!” he said in a crooning voice. “Hogbetso Hogbetso shabalilaa tolakotas! Hobbbabaaabaa! I sawa it-ah! It-a was-a reveal-a to me! Do not worry-a! Mr. Biko, be brave-a, put it-a on-a the flooor-a, and send-a it-a to me-a tomorrow! I will-a use it-a to destroy-a the curs-a on you-a!”

He reassured me that everything would be fine, and I believed him.

Back in the car I used a duster to lift the pot and put it on the floor of the car, in the backseat, and then I got in the car and continued driving.

An hour later I was in Accra.

I was relieved and a little happy.

Apostle Williams sounded so positive that he seemed to pass on some of the positivity to me, and I began to relax.

I stopped at an intersection, and the traffic light was showing red.

I was leaning over to change the song playing when I felt a tap on the window of the car, and I sat up slowly.

A little boy was standing there.

He wasn’t a Ghanaian. He was of the North African ascent, and he was holding his hand to his mouth, obviously begging for money.

I would have moved on like I normally did when beggars approached me, but suddenly it dawned on me that everyone needed a break at one point in time. We were all beggars in a way, anyway. Here I was, floundering in things way above my head and begging an Apostle to take care of my problems for me.

I reached into my back pocket and took out my wallet.

Feeling extremely generous, I extracted a fifty-cedis note from my wallet, wound down my window and then proffered the money to him with a smile on my face.

He made no attempt to take the money, and instead his eyes looked at me sadly.

“I don’t want your money,” he said softly.

I scowled darkly, my temper rushing to the fore.

“Then what do you want, idiot?” I said savagely. “Get the hell out of my sight! Why did you rattle me window anyway?”

“He can’t help you,” he said calmly.

I was in the process of pushing the knob that would wind up the power-window again, but I stopped and turned round to glare at the boy with sudden trepidation.

“What?” I asked numbly.

“He can’t help you,” he said, and his voice was dropping from the high-pitch tone of a little boy to the higher bass of an adult.

“Who can’t help me?” I asked hoarsely.

“The preacher man, Mr. Biko!” he said slowly, his voice seeming to echo all around me, making my headache soar. “He can’t help you in anyway. One week to marry Akos, Mr. Biko, one week. Don’t you misuse your time.”

And by the time he stopped speaking his voice had suddenly become that of Nana Bosomba!

I screeched loudly as he turned away suddenly and began to move away!

The traffic light changed to green, and cars began blowing their horns angrily behind me.

“Hey, come back here!” I cried in anguish.

The little boy stopped and looked at me over his shoulder.

And then I saw that his face, for a very brief moment, wasn’t the face of a little boy again.

It was the face of Nana Bosomba!

Same bushy hair, beard and moustache, same handsome lined face…same gentle smile!

And then it slowly changed back to the boy’s face!

The car behind me honked angrily, evidently frustrated that I was creeping along when the light was green and I needed to speed up.

I turned to face the road again, and I was trembling very violently, so badly that I indicated a right turn when I noticed a bus stop.

And when I glanced into my driving-mirror again I saw Akos of Wowo sitting in the back of my car, wearing a lovely red brassiere and sticking out her tongue at me.

“Oh, Yao,” she whispered lustfully. “Come and eat it, Baba!”

I scre-med then.

Yes, I did.

I scre-med.

Well, I almost smashed into the pedestrian stand at the bus stop, and I didn’t really know how I was able to stop the car and got out suddenly.

I rushed away from the car, and stood far away staring at it with my eyes popping out of my head.

The few people at the bus stop were staring at me with various looks of anxiety, confusion, fear and amusement.

A young man pushing a bicycle and eating a huge piece of bread pointed at my fly.

“Massa, ebe like your p***s dey leak!” he said and chuckled.

And when I looked down I saw that yes, I had leaked a bit of urine into my trousers.

Some of the people were laughing softly now.

“Ei, these sakawa boys eh!” a man leaning against the pedestrian stand said.

I locked the car with the remote, and then I began walking away.

A taxi was approaching, and I flagged it down and sat in.

As it moved away I turned and looked back…

Akos was now standing in the street watching me go.

She was now wearing a form of white beaded chain around her head. She was in a black brassiere now with blue, white, green and red beaded kind of design around her neck and falling down her br-asts and belly, and she was looking after me sadly.

I wasn’t afraid, no.

I was terrified s**tless!

Tears slowly came into my eyes…yes, I was that horrified!

DIAL

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Sequence 10

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©Aaron Ansah-Agyeman

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I think it was around that time, when I had fled from my own car and I was sitting at the back of a taxi, that it dawned on me that I really didn’t have any good friends in the world.

My father had left me a lot of money, and I had increased that money tenfold. I was a wealthy young lad, and I could have any life I could. But I didn’t have friends. My father had not been a trusting man because of what the woman he had loved had done to him, and thus I also grew up not trusting human beings.

There were a few guys at the sports club, the nightclubs and a few other social places, who always came around me, because I was obviously a big spender when it came to some things, but none of them was really a close friend.

It dawned on me then that I was indeed living a pretty lonesome life.

It had never bothered me, no, but that particular morning it did. I had a lot of girls, but they were just bodies to me, objects that I used to slake a thirst, and I didn’t even know half of their names unless I checked from the Dial List or referred to the special folder on my phone labelled ETWES.

The women on the Dial List were the elite, those who gave me tough chases, exhilaration, and women of extreme physical beauties.

Those in my “Etwes” folder were simply girls I could call on for a quick tumble if the need arose. They were the girls I could sleep with for a night, or a weekend if I felt lonely, and who would take some money and melt away to their various lives.

They were the friends with benefits.

And so, as I sat in the back of the taxi and reflected on my life, it dawned on me that I could do with a good friend, someone I could recount what had happened to, someone who would stay with me and share my problems.

But there was no one like that; I was virtually alone, with my riches.

About an hour later the taxi stopped in front of the residence of Apostle Jacob Williams of the Pawa Yesu Fire Ministries.

The pastor was already waiting for me outside. He was of medium height and running to fat, his round belly forming a slight bulge in,side the beautiful African print shirt he was wearing.

He had a bald patch from his forehead to the crown of his head, with a thick but nicely-trimmed patch of grey hair surrounding it. The man of God was wearing small gold-rimmed glasses perched precariously on his nose.

He came forward and gave me a long, warm hug.

“You’re in the house of the Lord, Mr. Yao Biko!” he said in a strong, high-pitched voice as he held my upper arms. “No evil, and I mean no evil, can stand against you! Be of good cheer, for the Lord has done it! Come in,side, and let’s seek the face of the Lord!”

We entered his Mission House.

The interior was beautiful, a true indication that Apostle Jacob Williams was a blessed man. I followed him to his luxurious living-room where we sat down. He called his wife, an obese woman with the widest h¡ps I had ever seen. She was called Matilda, a name I hadn’t heard in a long while.

She was all-smiles as she shook my hand. Matilda was wearing a long white gown with a huge, elaborate headgear. Her face was garishly made up, and I wondered idly if a pastor’s wife should have that much makeup.

The Apostle said a short prayer, and then he welcomed me.

He told me to tell him everything that had happened.

I was getting really scared now, and so I didn’t hold much back. I didn’t tell him about the Dial List, though. Simply, I told him how I met Akos, made love to her, and how she later seemed to commit suicide, and then how Nana Bosomba had been terrorizing me afterwards.

“Hm, hm, hmmm!” he said with a toss of his shoulders when I had finished speaking. “The devil is a liar, I say the devil is a liar! Do not despair, Mr. Biko! We’ll send fire prayers into the domain of that Bosomba and ransack his household! He will flee from his bed with the fire of Golgotha eating pancake from his head!”

He stood up and paced for a while, and then he stopped and looked at me with serious eyes.

“First, though, we’ll need that pot and the envelope to pray over, Mr. Biko!” he said calmly. “Give me your car keys! I’ll let your car be brought here so that we take that demonic pot and break it with the stripes of Jeeeeesus Chriiiiist!”

I handed over my keys.

It took about an hour for the messenger to bring my car.

However, the pot wasn’t in the car, and I wasn’t much surprised.

The Apostle then sent a servant to call the prayer warriors, and eventually three men and two women who were neatly-dressed came into the living-room.

“Mr. Yao Biko is our guest,” Apostle Williams informed them. “A disgruntled and wicked fetish priest has cursed him, but we’re going to show him that no curse from Hades shall stand against the Chosen Ones!”

“Aaaaamen!” the Prayer Warriors said in unison.

He informed me that I would need to spend the rest of the week in his Manse, and asked if I could spare the time. I said yes, because I was willing to do anything to send Nana Bosomba packing out of my life.

“Mr. Biko, this is a serious occultist attack from the realms of the astral levels of demonic powers!” the Apostle said whilst shaking his head in a peculiar way. “The Holy Spirit has directed me to take ten thousand cedis from you, Mr. Biko. You’re supposed to fast for two weeks and pray continuously during that time!”

“Oh, I’ve never fasted and prayed!” I cried in alarm. “I’ve never believed that anyway!”

“Yes, Mr. Biko, and that’s why the Prayer Warriors are here to help you! They’ll fast and pray for you, but you need to make a small donation of ten thousand Ghana Cedis so that they can be motivated to pray for you.”

“No problem,” I said.

And indeed it was no problem. It was just peanuts to me.

And so I paid up by using an app on my phone to transfer the funds into the Apostle’s account. I would have paid ten times the amount if he had asked, because I was that desperate.

He smiled at me with all his teeth showing when the transfer went through.

“Now, Mr. Biko, you can have a sound sleep, and we’ll take care of this fetish man for you,” he said pleasantly. “One of our guest rooms has been made ready for you, sir. Now you can go in there and relax, and we’ll go and begin our fire, volcanic and earthquake-shattering prayers!”

He called a maidservant to take me to my room.

I was feeling really relieved now, and I followed the lady through a series of corridors until she stopped in front of a door. She pushed down the handle of the door and pushed it open. She took one step into the room, and then she came to an abrupt stop and her hands flew to her br-asts.

I was behind her, and I saw her body shivering suddenly.

“What is it, lady?” I asked as I stood just behind her in the doorway.

She pointed a shaky finger at the bed.

It was a huge room, and it was very pleasant and neat.

It had a big bed with clean sheets, televisions set, a small fridge that was well-stocked, no doubt. A writing desk, and a wardrobe.

And there, sitting on the bed smugly, was the white clay pot with the envelope in it.

The lady turned, and the horror on her face was frightening. She pushed past me and began to scre-m as she ran away. I leaned against the door frame and looked at the pot. I wasn’t really scared, no. Somehow I was now getting used to the sight of it.

Presently, I heard movement behind me, and then Apostle Williams and his five prayer warriors filed into the room, and like the woman they came to abrupt halts at the sight of the white clay pot.

Apostle Williams turned to me, and there was the sheen of perspiration on his face.

“Is that the pot and the envelope you were talking about, Mr. Biko?” he asked in a voice that was quite unsteady.

“Yes, Apostle, it is,” I replied calmly.

“Mr. Biko, is that the pot you told me about?” he asked me again.

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows.

“I just confirmed it, Apostle, didn’t I?”

“Now don’t be cheeky with me, young man!” he exploded, and his voice was very unpleasant now. “I just wanted a confirmation from you. Is this the pot you were talking about?”

I almost chuckled, but I restrained myself.

“That’s Nana Bosomba’s pot alright, Apostle,” I said calmly, aware that the apostle of God was flustered.

“Good, well, erm…the devil is a liiiiiiiiiar!” he said, but his voice had dropped many decibels from its previous vociferous levels. “Wait in the living-room, Mr. Biko! We shall deal with this! The Lord will reign supreme, and you’ll be set free!”

So I made my way back to the living-room.

I tried to read some Christian magazines, but I got bored after a while and dozed off.

I came awake as I heard shrill scre-ms, and I bolted up on my feet.

Mrs. Williams was trying to run toward a door, her massive frame rolling like the waves of the sea, but I just stood still and waited.

Presently Apostle Williams came into the living-room, and behind him were his prayer warriors. The two women literally blasted out of the room, their faces contorted with horror as they fled.

Two of the men were however holding up the third man.

The sight of the third man made me gape with sudden horror!

His hair, which had been very black, was now looking pure white!

Even his eyebrows and moustache were all looking absolutely white!

His legs were folded upward, and he obviously could not walk!

He had aged horribly within the twinkle of an eye!

“Take me to hospital,” he kept saying as his two friends helped him up. “Please take me to hospital now.”

And his voice was unsteady and shaky like an old man!

“My goodness!” I whispered with apparent horror. “What happened to him?”

Apostle Williams grinned, but I noticed that the grin just stretched his mouth. His eyes were filled with unpleasant fear.

“Hah, Mr. Biko, you see what I told you?” he said and shook his head. “Disciple Darko touched the pot at a time he shouldn’t have touched the pot, and he fell down and now look at him! That’s the kind of battle we face! But the devil is a liar!”

“Apostle, take me to the hospital!” Disciple Darko scre-med suddenly. “Take me to hospital now!”

Apostle Williams smiled sickly again, and for a moment it seemed he didn’t know what to say, and then he shrugged and pointed to the door.

“Please send him to the prayer room, Elders,” he said. “Let him sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep, Apostle!” Elder Darko cried, and now tears fell down his wrinkled cheeks. “I don’t want to sleep! Take me to the hospital! Take me to the hospital!”

The Apostle looked at him angrily, and then he shrugged.

“Alright, Elders!” he said. “Call one of the drivers and use the minibus. Send him to the clinic down the street!”

“No clinic!” Elder Darko disagreed as they carried him out of the room. “The big hospital. I won’t go to the clinic! Take me to the hospital now!”

I looked at him, and then I turned a horrified face to the Apostle.

“What now, sir?” I asked softly as I fought down my horror.

“Well, this thing is more serious than I thought,” he said quietly. “I called one of my enlightened friends, and he said I should bring you over. He’s more enlightened in the dark arts, and together the two of us will deal with this evil incarnate! Come with me, Mr. Biko! This trouble will be solved for you in a jiffy! The devil is a liar!”

So that was how I came to sit in the huge, beautiful Mercedes Benz of Apostle Williams.

We sat in the back and his driver ferried us around town.

Once again I dozed off, maybe from sheer exhaustion and repressed fear.

When the car finally stopped, and we got out, it dawned on me with the force of a mule’s kick that we had arrived on the premises of the Bare Light International Church!

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To be continued