CHAPTER EIGHT
The Savior
The measure of a man is
not the number of his servants
but the number of people he serves.- Moody
I wake with a gospel song humming on my lips, the melody of praise rising with the morning light. Pushing myself off the bed, I drop to the floor for push-ups. Pain shoots through my back and hands, and I grimace. I should exercise more often, I think, as I stand up with difficulty. I must be getting old.
The thought of money dances in my mind. It doesn’t guarantee happiness but opens doors that would otherwise remain closed. I see the effects of poverty around me every day, and I know I never want to be poor. The Bible says the love of money is the root of all evil, yet people still chase it with enthusiasm. The man who wakes up hungry because he missed supper and can’t afford breakfast knows that lack of money can be its kind of evil.
Yet, the mad pursuit of wealth without a positive contribution to life’s growth or the worship of the true God is a wasted opportunity. When I had plenty of money, the more I accumulated, the more I wanted. I was never satisfied. In the world of tycoons, we constantly compete with others who are just as wealthy, always chasing more.
Thank God for Prophet John. He brought Jane into my life and, with her, a burst of sunshine that illuminated everything. Our marriage was the culmination of a relationship that began the day I had that terrible dream. That dream was just one in a series of spiritual attacks Elijah initiated against me when I became a threat to his mission.
When a man steps out of darkness and into the light, he becomes a target for the devil. The Devil constantly watches, waiting for any mistake to exploit and destabilize him both spiritually and physically.
Jane and I were married at the Church of Eternal Hope, where I trained under Prophet John to become a pastor. We planned a low-key wedding due to my issues with the presidency. As tradition demanded, Jane moved to my dad’s place a day before the marriage.
My parents took to Jane instantly, like a Rasta to marijuana. Something indefinable about her draws people in, like a hen to a pack of corn. She quickly became a favorite in the Giwa family, especially with my sisters, Alice and Grace. She’s a constant guest of Alice and her husband, the senator.
Jane radiates a warmth that wins everyone over, no matter how stone-hearted they might be. I’ve never seen her quarrel, not even once. She wouldn’t know how. She only needs to open her mouth, and any antagonist becomes an ally. People fall over themselves to help Jane. She never has to open a door if someone else is around to do it for her.
“She is unbelievably beautiful,” my mother, Dorcas, remarked the first day I introduced them. Hearing this from my mother, a woman in her late sixties who people still find strikingly beautiful and who rarely gives out compliments, was significant. Jane got along with everyone in the family except for Aunty Taiye, but that was no surprise.
Although planned as a low-key event, our wedding became a ceremony people talked about for a long time. I expected my negative publicity with the press due to my issues with the government to result in a mass media boycott. Contrary to my belief, representatives from the entire country’s media houses attended the marriage ceremony.
While most people have one best man, I ended up with three. Henry, my first choice, hesitated due to my government troubles. I then settled on the senator, but he wasn’t sure he’d be in town because of a senate committee tour to Brazil. At the last minute, I decided on Wale, a church member. However, Henry and the senator showed up in their best man suits on the wedding day. The senator rescheduled his assignment, and Henry had a change of heart. I allowed all three to stand by my side as best men to avoid offending or embarrassing any of them.
Everything is expected during the wedding until Elijah makes his unexpected appearance. Just as Jane and I exchange vows and the officiating pastor declares us husband and wife, a sudden commotion erupts among the media crew near the door, indicating the arrival of a very important visitor. Elijah has arrived.
He comes with a trailer loaded with gifts and another with assorted imported drinks, which his assistants distribute to everyone, including the journalists. When asked why he attends the marriage, he tells the press he came to celebrate with his fellow prophet, John, who was giving away his dear sister in marriage to a good friend.
Elijah approaches Jane and me to congratulate us. Our eyes meet, and I see the burning hatred in his gaze. I would have been terrified if I hadn’t already received the gift of the Holy Spirit. I know what John said I would see in Elijah’s eyes: eternal damnation.
To say Elijah’s arrival at the wedding ignites a firestorm would be an understatement. Although he leaves almost immediately, the place transforms into a carnival. The air buzzes with excitement and chatter, with Elijah’s unexpected presence turning a simple ceremony into a full-blown celebration.
Elijah brings in two of the most popular bands in Nigeria, turning our wedding into an extravaganza that stretches until noon the following day. It feels as if the entire town has descended upon the venue. One soft-sell newspaper reports that six people died of drug overdoses amid the frenzy of Elijah’s party. Trust him to twist something beautiful into something grotesque.
A cynical philosopher once sneered at love, calling it “an emotion guaranteed to give you pain and leave you vulnerable.” Another defined it as “a feeling of attraction arising out of a need and directed toward an object that offers hope of gratification.” What nonsense. Those poor fellows never knew the true essence of love. Love is an indefinable feeling of inner joy directed toward a person or thing that makes you willingly give your life for the object of your love. It is an act of total surrender, free of selfishness or ulterior motives.
I love Jane from the depths of my soul, and she promises to love me until the end of time. We spend our honeymoon in the garden city, discovering each other anew every day. A man never knows the real meaning of happiness until he wakes up to see what he desires most.
Our days in the garden city pass in blissful seclusion, our hotel room our little universe, until Henry rudely interrupts. We only see outside the hotel when we check in and out. The only blight on our love life is Aaron’s insistence on staying with us, even during our most intimate moments.
We left Lagos on the night of our wedding, during the party organized by my parents. We arrive in Port Harcourt early and check into Hotel Presidential under an assumed name to avoid nosy journalists. Our only contact with the outside world is the television, which Jane permanently tunes to a South African evangelical station.
I’ve wanted to make love to Jane since the day of my terrible dream, but she told me she was a virgin. Rushing to lick a delicious soup while it’s still steaming makes no sense. If you burn your tongue, you can’t enjoy it when it’s finally cooled. So, I keep myself in check.
When we finally make love, it’s worth the wait. It feels like discovering love-making for the first time—beautiful and perfect. I wake up in the morning to find Jane sleeping peacefully beside me. I give glory to God for the lovely gift of love. What have I done for the Lord to single me out for such great blessings? First, God showed me salvation and then gave me the perfect partner. The God I serve is indeed good.
All hell breaks loose when we emerge from the plane that conveys us from Port Harcourt via Lagos to Abuja for the meeting with the President. The airport tarmac, usually off-limits to journalists, is now swarming with them. Media personnel wait in droves, cameras clicking and microphones thrust forward. How could they have known we’d arrive today? I certainly didn’t inform anyone. Someone in the presidency must be responsible. But why?
Security personnel sent by Henry practically carry us from the plane to the government-provided helicopter, whisking us straight to the security house belonging to the government. I exchange a bewildered glance with Jane, who shrugs. Everything in good time, her expression seems to say.
Two security men sit behind us, another beside the pilot, while Jane and I are sandwiched between two others, making seven of us in the chopper. Aaron perches on the pilot’s lap, an amused smirk on his face.
When curiosity finally gets the better of me, I turn to the security man beside me. “Are we under arrest?”
The man chuckles and replies, “Did you both just arrive from the moon?”
“I’m not that rich anymore. Seriously, what’s going on? Why all this hush-hush?”
“I don’t know anything, sir. I’m just following orders.” Sensing their reluctance to engage in conversation, I decide to stay quiet.
Even when we land at what looks like a secondary school football field, and a car drives us to a nondescript building in one of Abuja’s less-known parts instead of Aso Rock, I hold my silence.
Henry stands at the gate of the high-fenced building, his face breaking into a broad smile as he greets us warmly. He ushers us into a tastefully furnished room where ten other men, presumably government agents, rise to greet us. However, their attention is fixed on Jane, not on me or Henry. Henry envelops Jane and me in a bear hug and gestures for us to take a seat.
“I know we’re not under arrest because if we were, you wouldn’t be smiling like a grandmother’s cat that just finished eating the house’s favorite pet. I also know we’re not because this place doesn’t resemble one of your detention camps or a torture chamber.”
The smile on Henry’s face freezes, shifting from disbelief to hurt. “Moses,” he chides, raising his palms in mock surrender, “when are you going to believe we’re not like that? Anyway, you are guests of the Federal Government of Nigeria. Very precious ones, at that.”
“As precious as a live Christmas turkey to its owner?” I quip, nudging Jane playfully behind the leg. She glances at me and smiles, a shared understanding passing between us amidst the unfolding mystery.
The tension in the room is palpable, but Jane’s presence is calming, her composed demeanor a balm against the uncertainty swirling around us. We both know that whatever awaits us behind these walls, we will face it together, ready for whatever challenge lies ahead.
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you. Not now that you’re married to the most beautiful woman in the world,” Henry replies, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I apologize, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in the past, even at the risk of your job.”
Henry opens a drawer and pulls out some newspapers, leaving the room momentarily. The papers bear yesterday’s date, and what I see on the front pages leaves me stunned. I glance at Jane, bewildered. John never mentioned anything about this.
The president’s speech dominates the headlines. I exchange looks with Jane. Not only has Elijah fallen out of favor with the government, but the president has practically declared him persona non grata. What happened? Just a month ago, Elijah was the most powerful man in the country, wielding the power of life and death.
“Why?” Jane asks Henry as he re-enters the room, carrying different copies of the day’s paper, still echoing the same story.
“Why not?” Henry responds. “I guess the president grew up. The government wouldn’t want anything to happen to you and your gorgeous wife, so we have instructions to guard you with our lives. You and your in-law have an early morning appointment with the head of state tomorrow.”
“Which of my in-laws?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“Very funny,” Henry replies, unamused. “How many in-laws do you have?”
“I have two sisters, remember? Is the president going after Elijah?” I ask, feeling a glow of hope inside.
“Do you think the president is a fool?” Henry looks at the floor, unable to hide his disappointment. “The president is aware of Elijah’s power. If he wasn’t, he is now, thanks to your brother-in-law.”
We fall silent as we read the various newspapers. The president’s decision dominates the headlines, sending shockwaves rippling through the nation.
The story is the same on the second day. The newspapers react to the president’s decision. All of them, without exception, condemn the decision, arguing that it will do the country no good. They urge the president to rescind his decision in the nation’s interest. People are always afraid of change when unsure it will bring a better option.
Some of the editorials reflect the panic and confusion in the land. This reaction happens when a nation places its faith in a man rather than God. It reaffirms the belief that the country has regressed spiritually.
I glance at Jane, whose face mirrors the turmoil I feel inside. Elijah’s downfall has stirred a hornet’s nest, and we’re caught in the middle. A sense of unease hangs in the air, a palpable tension that refuses to dissipate. I hope that whatever unfolds next will lead us toward a brighter future.
“Who is Elijah, and how did he become so powerful?” Henry asks, folding one of the papers and placing it on his lap, his expression a mix of curiosity and frustration.
“You mean you, the great James Hoover, don’t know who Elijah is?” I reply, feigning surprise. My voice carries a hint of disbelief.
Henry, who usually exudes confidence and control, looks genuinely perplexed. “He is the most mysterious man I have come across. He didn’t exist until a few years ago. How can anyone exist without any living proof? It’s like he just popped out of the sky.”
I nod, understanding Henry’s confusion. “For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall show great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect,’” I quote from the Bible, Matthew 24:24. “Mind if I call John to confirm tomorrow’s appointment with your president? I’d also call Uncle Tayo, the senator, and Richard.”
Henry’s voice rises slightly as he responds, “What do you mean by my president? He’s still the president of this country, at least until I left the presidency today. Anyway, you don’t need the others. It’s to be a private meeting with the president.” He stands up, places the paper on the top of the pile on the floor, and turns to face me.
Jane interjects, her voice calm but probing, “I’m sure there will be others besides those you mentioned. Who else will be there, Henry?” She gives him one of her signature looks, which usually compels anyone to do her bidding.
I suppress a chuckle. Jane may be many things, but shy is not one of them. She has a way of making men do exactly what she wants. I should know.
Henry sighs, unable to resist her charm. “One Oyekanmi, who sold his land to Elijah for the building of the headquarters of his church, will be there. That’s the only person besides me, Moses, and your brother.”
“Why?” Jane persists. “I hope the president isn’t thinking of revoking Elijah’s right of occupancy to the land because that wouldn’t be a wise move.”
I drop my paper on the pile and look at Henry. “Point of correction, Henry, Elijah has a Tabernacle, not a church.”
“Give your president some credit, Jane; he’s too smart for that. Something mysterious about the land transaction made the president very curious.” Henry’s gaze is sharp as if Jane had just crossed a line.
“Come off it, Henry,” I say with a smile. “We all know how loyal you are to the president, but what could be so unusual about a normal land transaction that could interest the president of Nigeria?”
Henry doesn’t answer, his silence confirming that something indeed is amiss.
I switched on my mobile phone, which they had instructed me to turn off when I entered the unmarked government building. Uncle Tayo’s number rings immediately. The line connects on the first dial, a reassuring sound in this sea of uncertainty.
Henry snatches the phone from my hand, his expression tense. “Please, no calls. I’ll use our secure line to contact anyone you need.”
“Are we getting paranoid now?” I ask, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “Do you think Elijah can tap into my phone now?” I retrieve my phone from Henry, slipping it back into my pocket.
Henry’s demeanor shifts, and he leans in closer, his voice low. “I’ve been the head of the country’s most critical security outfit since the president’s second term. The president chose me for my cerebral ability, not because I was the best. Anything that threatens my job and that I can’t comprehend terrifies me.” His eyes reflect a more profound concern. “Elijah… something about him is beyond my understanding. I’ve never felt this way before. I can’t tell you why the president wants to meet the man who sold that land, but tomorrow will reveal everything.”
Growing tired of the mystery surrounding the meeting, I asked Henry to connect me with Uncle Tayo and the others through the secure phone.
Yemi answers almost immediately. “Hi, Uncle, it’s been a while. What’s up?”
“Yemi, nothing much. I’m still enjoying my honeymoon. Are your parents around?”
“Dad’s out, but Mum’s somewhere in the house.”
“Can you get her for me, please?”
“Sure thing, Uncle. How’s Aunty Jane?”
“She’s doing great, thanks. Now, could you pass the phone to your mother?”
A moment later, Lizzy’s cheerful voice fills the line. “Hello, dear! Back from Port Harcourt already?” Her infectious warmth reminds me of our close bond over the years. Lizzy and I have been inseparable since our university days. She’s like my sister from another mother, and our friendship is the envy of many.
We met when I was a precocious teenager entering university while some of my peers were still in junior secondary school. Lizzy, eight years older than me and stunningly beautiful, quickly became my best friend. Our friendship was often the subject of campus gossip, with some scandalous stories circulating in the student newspapers. One headline, “The Virgin and the Tart,” infuriated Lizzy so much that she threatened to confront the editor.
But I never let the rumors bother me. “Why do you keep hanging out with me if the gossip upsets you?” I once asked her.
Her response was quintessentially Lizzy. “Because you’re the best mind on campus and know my course better than I do. You’re the only one who can help me ace this degree.”
Her trust in my abilities always flattered me, and I appreciated her loyalty. Our friendship has stood the test of time, and as I speak with her now, I’m reminded of the bond we share.
Lizzy graduated with a second-class upper, a grade she had never imagined she could achieve. We remained close after graduation, and even my mother was baffled by the depth of our relationship until Lizzy married my Uncle Tayo. Uncle Tayo fell for Lizzy during one of her many visits to our house while she was still in university, and I played matchmaker for them.
Initially, Uncle Tayo believed Lizzy and I were romantically involved until their wedding night. He could barely contain his excitement when he saw me the following day. He enveloped me in a bear hug and kissed my cheek, something he had never done before. I wiped my cheek, amused.
“Moses, you’ve given me the most precious gift money can’t buy. Lizzy is the best thing you’ve brought into my life.”
“Uncle,” I teased, “Lizzy is a person. She is not a gift.
“Come off it, Moses. She was a virgin.”
“What’s the big deal about a virgin, Uncle? Everyone was a virgin at some point.”
Uncle Tayo pulled me into another bear hug. I extricated myself from his enthusiastic grip, laughing. Something was different about my Uncle.
From that day on, Lizzy became the center of Uncle Tayo’s universe, while I remained Lizzy’s dear friend, and life continued.
“We got back today. The government kidnapped us from our hotel in Port Harcourt, and now we’re Henry’s guests somewhere in Abuja.” I chuckle as I hear her gasp from the other end of the line. I glance at Henry, who seems a little put out by my choice of words. I flash a reassuring smile and a wink, but he doesn’t seem amused.
“It’s not what you think, Lizzy. Don’t worry; tell Uncle to meet us at the presidency tomorrow at eight. It would be better if he caught tonight’s flight to Abuja.” I cover the mouthpiece. “Henry, is eight o’clock alright?”
“Make it nine,” Henry replies.
“Lizzy, you heard that. Make it nine o’clock.” She is about to continue chatting, but I’m in a hurry. I say goodbye.
Next, I dial Richard Stone, but my charming Aunt answers instead.
“Moses, why did you return my wedding present? And as if that wasn’t enough, you gave it to Seyi. How could you give a Mercedes Benz S-Class to a sixteen-year-old?” Her tone is a mix of exasperation and affection.
“Aunty dear,” I start, but she interrupts. I am her favorite among her sister’s children, and we both know it.
“Listen, Moses,” she says with a playful sternness, “you can’t just spoil your nice like that. You’re going to turn her into a little diva.”
“I thought she’d like it. Besides, she’s always had a thing for flashy cars,” I replied, feigning innocence.
My aunt sighed, a mix of indulgence and resignation in her voice. “Just remember, Moses, not everyone has your generosity.”
“Listen, Aunt dear.”
“Don’t ‘Aunty dear’ me. Did you tell Jane I bought her the car?”
“I did, Aunty dear, but she said the car was too macho. Besides, Seyi has been bugging me for a car for ages. I needed to get her off my back.”
“But an S-Class is too much for a second-year undergraduate.”
“I had a Jaguar in my first year,” I reminded her with a grin.
“You were different; your father doesn’t work for the government. What will people think when they see her driving around in that car, knowing her father is a minister?”
Who cared what any government official did? The country had so much money that nobody seemed to notice or care.
“You don’t mean that, Aunty dear. That should be the least of your worries. This government may be many things, but transparency isn’t one of them. You know nobody cares if anyone is corrupt or not.”
She was still not convinced. “Aunty dear, a Mercedes S-Class isn’t too much for a minister’s daughter in this government.”
“I’m not sure I like your tone. Are you being sarcastic?”
“Aunty dear, I’m serious. Please tell Uncle to call me on this government line when he returns.”
With the phone conversations done, Jane and I retreat to our room. We bathe together, as we’ve done since our marriage. No matter how often I see her, her body amazes me. An old Yoruba adage says God has not yet created a perfect human being. It suggests that however beautiful a woman is, some imperfection will mar her beauty. Jane was living proof that this adage was wrong. She was perfect!
I love Jane for her beauty and intellect and how she makes my heart race whenever I see her.
The meeting with the president the next day is full of surprises. Uncle Tayo, John, and the doubtful Oyekanmi, who had thought he was losing his mind for a while, are there. Aaron? He behaves better than I expected.
As we gather, the air is thick with anticipation. The gravity of the situation is palpable. The room seems to hum with the tension of unspoken truths.
The president, looking weary yet resolute, welcomes us with a nod. “Thank you all for coming,” he says, his voice a mixture of authority and uncertainty.
John, ever the calm presence, acknowledges him with a slight bow. “We are here to do what must be done.”
Uncle Tayo, still adjusting to the surreal nature of our circumstances, looks around, trying to gauge the mood of the room. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? What’s our plan to handle Elijah?”
Oyekanmi, still visibly shaken by the strange events surrounding Elijah, nods in agreement. “Yes, we need clarity. It’s about time we face this head-on.”
I exchange a glance with Jane, who squeezes my hand reassuringly. Her presence is a balm to my nerves, a reminder that I’m not facing this alone.
As the discussion unfolds, we lay out our strategies and concerns. The enormity of the task ahead weighs heavily on us, but there is a sense of unity and determination. We all know the stakes are high, but we are resolved to see this through.
Aaron, sitting quietly in the corner, listens intently. Though he doesn’t say much, his presence reminds him of the unseen forces at play.
As the meeting progresses, it becomes clear that we have a role in the unfolding drama. We are not just fighting for our survival but for the soul of our nation. The path ahead is fraught with challenges, but we will forge a way forward together. I woke up with a start. I have been dreaming again. I looked at Jane, snoring lightly beside me. I went back to sleep.
J.J. OlutiCreative Voice of Africa
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