Diary of a pastor’s son episode 18 – 19

Diary Of A Pastor’s Son

Episode 18

Written by: Frank The Writer.

“Please, don’t kill me. I’m the only son of my parents,” I beckoned to him.
“Oh! Really?” He laughed.
“Yes,” I answered inaudibly.
“Well, I don’t have a family,” he said, still pointing the gun to my head. I kept rubbing my hands in tears. But he seemed unbothered with the tears in my eyes.
“My parents died 15 years ago,” he busted.
“Plea—please, don’t kill me,” I stammered.
“Where is your phone?”
“It’s not with me.”
“Do you think I’m joking with you? I’ll blow off your head right now,” he thundered angrily.
“I’m not lying to you. I don’t have it here,” I said, raising my two hands in the air. My heart still beating faster. He did the searching and soon found out I was telling him nothing but the truth.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you…”

However, he couldn’t finish what he was going to say before someone hit him from behind. A long wood had landed on his head, causing him to yell in pain while he fell flat on the ground. I wasn’t able to see who was behind him.
The only thing that crossed my mind was to run. I didn’t hesitate to take on my heels without looking back. My heart still pounding faster.
It was dark and I could barely see the road. I kept running as my strength could carry me—not minding whatever I stepped on. My goal was to come out of the tarred road. But before I could get to the tarred road, a flash of light fell in my direction. It was oblivious to the light from a car. I halted so I don’t end up colliding with the car.

“Femiii,” someone yelled from the direction of the car. The voice was that of my sister, Shola. I heaved a big sigh of relief knowing I was finally saved from danger. “Where have you been?” queried my father as he lowered the windscreen and popped out his head. I reached the car, Shola already opened the back side, and I went in and shut it, heaving another loud sigh of relief.
“What is it? What happened? And who is after you?” Mom queried in one breath. She was in the front seat while Shola, Agatha, and I sat in the back seat.

“Every other person went and returned, but you got there and nobody saw you again. Who is chasing after you?” asked my father? He then reversed the car in the direction that led to our apartment.
“They almost killed me,” I finally said, still breathing heavily.
“Who and who?” asked my mom.
“I don’t know them. They had a real gun. I think two groups of bad boys had a clash. I saw a dead body too,” I said and paused.
“A dead body?” Shola turned and looked me in the face.
“Yes, a dead body.”

“Where did this thing happen?” my father asked.
“Around that neighborhood where the church rented instruments.”
“So how did you escape? You said they had a gun with them?”
“Yes. They did. It was only God that saved me. One of them almost shot me,” I said.
“Thank your stars I’m still with your phone. I’m sure by now you would have given it to them,” my father said and giggled. I didn’t utter a word. I simply exhaled.

As we drove back home, I went on narrating my ordeal; I continued telling them how I’d have been a dead person if not for the unknown fellow that saved my life. “God still wants to use you Femi. Make up your mind and follow him wholeheartedly,” said my father. I didn’t say anything. I still suffered from the shock of the attack.
He went on to preach more on the need for total repentance and coming back to God who had saved my life. He further added that God had a reason for saving my life. “Femi, God has given you another chance to live. Utilize it!” He said.

He finally drove into our apartment. We alighted from the car and when I checked my wristwatch, it was 11:10 pm. It was the middle of the night, the moon was illuminated, and the environment was so quiet you could almost hear the wind.

***

When everyone had gone to bed, I overheard my father from the bathroom arguing with mom, so I had to stop whatever I was doing there to hear what they were saying.

“We can’t afford to send him to school yet. Femi needs to change his ways first before anything,” I heard my father say. I was puzzled.

“He could still change when he gets to the University. How long do you want him to stay in this house before leaving for the University?” my mom countered. I was glad she was on my side. I knew I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but this was about me and I couldn’t withstand not hearing every single thing they discussed.

“I know, but the idea is to make him change. Let him work on himself first here in the house before going out there to meet different caliber of people.” My father sounded like he was upset.

“Femi loves God just as much as we do. Nothing could lead him astray, Nothing. I have prayed about it and I think we should just let him get going on time. He is our only son,” said my mom, still backing me up.

“You’ll not argue with me. Femi has to change before anything else. He needs to go back to God!” my father lamented.

There was a moment of horrible silence.

My father said something after that, but I couldn’t hear it because he said it inaudibly. I waited to hear more from the duo but nothing was forthcoming. I turned on the tap from the bathroom, and put my face up in the shower to clear my mind as the water dripped on my entire face.
That night, as I lay in bed, I pondered what exactly my father wanted from me.

***

After breakfast the following day, I told my father I want to go back to Ibadan but he asked me to put that decision on hold.
“Femi, what is important now is your relationsh¡p with God. I can’t even give you a go-ahead concerning school this year until I see changes in your spiritual life.” He said.
“Ahh, but my mates are already in their first year,” I said, trying to counter him. “There are no mates in pursuit of destiny. Some of your mates are equally in the grave,” he said.
“But….”
“Femi, no but. Till I see changes in your life, then I’ll decide if you are buying Jamb form or not,” he said to my discomfort, and then stretched my phone in my direction.
“Finally,” I said to myself.

He then walked towards the door and left.
When he left, I called Biola on the phone and she wasn’t sounding cool. She had confirmed she was pregnant after he used a pregnancy test she bought at the Pharmacy. I had always known Biola wouldn’t waste time confirming that. She said she would get an abortion pill next week. She was expecting some money.
She told me not to tell anyone. She knew how my father would handle the situation if he eventually finds out. Biola didn’t want the word to get out.

Because I was young and scared, I followed her suggestion and accepted what she said, despite my conscience pricking me. A voice was telling me to tell her not to abort the baby but I couldn’t speak up. Biola’s mind was already made up. I didn’t want to get in more trouble too, I was too young to be a father. I didn’t want to be judged—but I desperately wanted someone to give me a hug and tell me everything was going to be okay. A lot was really going on in my head.

Diary Of A Pastor’s Son

Episode 19

I had always known my father to be very strict and had always stayed unmoved by his decision. He would never change his mind about letting me go to University without turning a new leaf. But then I desperately wanted to gain admission that year. So I had to dance to the tone of his music. Yes, I needed to do that just so he could change his mind about me. And don’t forget Agatha and I was yet to complete our punishment. One of them was to do a ‘morning cry’ (Evangelism)
So in the quest to make a U-turn and make amends with God as my father had demanded, one morning, I woke Agatha up so we could go do the morning cry and wait for the next punishment that awaits us. She said she doesn’t know how to preach and if only I could preach while she accompanies me.

Well, we did go out that morning as early as 5:30 am. We went with our Bible and torch lights to the neighborhood. I didn’t want anybody to see my face, so I hurriedly did whatever I needed to say. You know, nobody can actually give out what they don’t have. There was nothing in me to preach, I was even blabbing on the process.
Before 6:00 am we were already walking back home. On getting to our apartment, Bukola and I bumped into each other. She had a surprised look on her face and I could tell she was shocked by what she saw. We didn’t say anything to each other. Agatha and I climbed the staircases while Bukola existed through the gate.

***
The following day, I attended a youth service which was organized by the youth pastor. When I walked into the youth forum that Thursday evening, they were about to start, and I went to the back seat. I actually like being in the back, standing in the front was never something I liked. I always felt uncomfortable doing it. While we were still standing, we did some singing; praise, and worsh¡p. Then we eventually sat down after 10-15 minutes. T
The residing Youth Pastor; Pastor Ben began by welcoming every one of us. “Femi, you are with us today? Wow! Thank God for your life,” he said to my discomfort. If only he knew how that made me feel, but I only had to fake a smile.

“So our topic for today is ‘Dating’.” He said and paused. He stared at us to see how we would react. I was wowed and likewise, most of them gr0-ned, because they knew he would talk about some weird stuff. I’m sure you know what I mean? I adjusted vehemently on my seat to hear clearly whatever he would say.
He continued: “Well, some of you may not like this topic but we need to talk about it to save as many of us who are already lost in it.
“We need to talk something about dating. Most of you have been carried away by this six-letter word,” he added. Just then, Desiré walked in. She walked straight to the front seat, of course, she was noticed by all. “Why are you late?” the youth pastor turned to her. She stared shyly but couldn’t utter any word.

“So we need to know what the Bible said about dating, what it should be and what it shouldn’t be like,” pastor Ben went on. He started by telling us his life story; how he and his wife met and how they were lovers and sweethearts in high school. He said despite breaking up with her when he gave his life to Christ and realized he had been doing the wrong thing in the name of dating, they still ended up together. There was a momentarily murmuring and laughter among the youths.
He said that was his fate and destiny, and such can’t apply to every one of us.
Pastor Ben bluntly condemned the word ‘Dating’ as a way of a Christian brother or sister. Courtsh¡p was the word he said was the right way that believers should follow when it comes to relationsh¡ps with the opposite gender.
“Sir, what’s the difference between Dating and Courtsh¡p?” someone stood and asked. When he cleared his throat, he answered by saying, “The major difference between the two is this, dating may or may not lead to marriage but the sole purpose of courtsh¡p is marriage.”

“Sir, do you mean all courtsh¡p eventually leads to marriage?” asked the fellow who had asked the difference between dating and courtsh¡p.
“Well, not all courtsh¡ps lead to marriage, but 90 percent always lead to marriage. But the good thing is, both parties must have not had any form of r0mantic affairs while in courtsh¡p, so if it doesn’t lead to marriage eventually, then there was no harm. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” we chorused.

“So don’t waste your time having an ungodly relationsh¡p in the name of dating. The church must be aware of your courtsh¡p and likewise, both parents should be aware too. Courtsh¡p is not a secret affair as seen in dating.”

After a series of teaching on what a Christian relationsh¡p between the opposite gender should be like, Pastor Ben went ahead to encourage us to keep ourselves until we are ready to settle down. And then we would pray to God for directions and ask him to reveal our life partner. He equally said that one of the worst mistakes one would ever make in life is, ending up with the wrong partner. Such a person would live the rest of their life in regrets and unending endurance. Amid his teaching, something led to another, and then he started asking each of us if we are still a v-rgin or not? That was weird and I never expected that from him. I felt my heart beating faster than usual. I looked at their faces, some laughed while some had a serious look. What has v-rginity got to do with today’s topic? I had pondered.

Omo! I watched half of the youth declare themselves a v-rgin and I felt so ashamed of myself. When it got to my turn, I couldn’t help but lie. Yes, I lied before the pastor right in,side the church even when he threatened us not to lie. How would everyone look at me as a pastor’s son? There were about three brothers and a sister who were bold enough to say they weren’t a v-rgin anymore. Pastor Ben asked them to wait behind to see him after the service.

His teachings really inflicted injuries in my heart that my conscience wouldn’t stop pricking me. “Our topic next tomorrow would be on Premarital s-× and its consequences,” he added

After the service, I couldn’t go home. Then that calm voice came again, “Femi, how long do you want to continue without confessing your sins?” I looked back and I saw the four of them surround Pastor Ben. Mechanically, my legs led me to where they stood. “Femi, are you also one of them?” He turned to me. I simply answered by nodding my head affirmatively. Pastor Ben sat us down and began to counsel us. He went on to tell us to make up our minds that we would never go back to our old ways. There was something about him. The way he talked and the effect of his word on my spirit.
Long story short, it was through Pastor Ben I made my ways right and confessed all my sins. He then told me to reach out to Biola and make sure she didn’t abort the baby.

~ Biola’s POV ~

It wasn’t my first time being pregnant. I had been taking pills throughout my relationsh¡p with my boyfriend in school before we packed up. So whenever I missed my period, I asked him to give me money for pregnancy tests and pills. Since Femi couldn’t afford such money, I had to cook up lies to one of my uncles who sent me some money.

So, I arranged the abortion myself as usual. I went to the nearest pharmacy and told them what I needed. As expected, I was cautioned and given directives on how to use it by the Pharmacist. Just so you know, the pills are quite expensive.
I must confess, I felt guilty doing this again. I had thought I was in my safe period during the time Femi and I was together.

I took the pills home and followed the due directives; I swallowed some while I ins××ted the rest down there, yeah. I’m sure you understand? Normally, I would have to experience bleeding in which the fetus would flush away, but this time I noticed nothing of such happened. I was beginning to doubt if I was actually pregnant or not.

Two days later, I went back to see the pharmacist, and I complained to him. He administered a pessary to induce the dilation and labor but nothing happened. He waited and tried again but still, nothing happened. He administered three pessaries and none worked.
“Can’t you just go through with the pregnancy? I mean you’re already halfway through.” He added.
“Ahh! Halfway bawo?”
He didn’t say anything. He was pretty unpleasant to me. Like, he didn’t support me going through the abortion process. He never said so but I could read it from his face and every single word he uttered.

After three days, I went back to see this dude, and he told me that he could only try the chemicals one more, and if that didn’t work, I would have a cesarean. Mehnn… I was horrified. It eventually didn’t work and sad to say, I spent money for nothing. I didn’t want to do a cesarean. I still value my life that much. So, eventually, with the swelling of my br××sts and other symptoms that I couldn’t hide, Aunty Bose (my brother’s wife) found out I was carrying a baby!
Aunty Bose was disappointed in me. She pressured me until I told her who was responsible. I was so ashamed of myself. There was nothing she didn’t say to me that I felt like the earth could open and swallow me. She went on to call Femi’s father to inform him.

~ Femi’s POV ~

That very day, we were done with dinner and about to sleep when my father’s phone rang. I was in the bathroom having my shower when he answered the phone. “Hello, Bose,” he began. Then after some minutes, the next thing I heard was, “You said Femi did what?”

I froze; a sudden coldness that hits at the core.

To be continued…
© Frank The Writer

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