A CALL FROM THE ORACLE.
It was a cold Saturday morning and the micro organisms that clung to the walls of my intestine, due to hunger, made me wake up a bit earlier than usual. Unlike every other Saturday when I just lay in bed lazily all day, I had to get a little bit of courage and leave my ever warm and comforting bed. My roommate was also very hungry but of course, her bed won’t give her a break. So I went all alone to the school cafeteria looking like I just got out of the wilderness after 35 years of struggle.
I bought the food ticket and I was about to buy the food when my phone rang. I was going to pick up and tell whoever it was to call me back but the tone of the voice left me curious. It was an old man’s voice and the last time I checked, both of my grandfathers are dead, if not, they might have been my first two guesses. The man called my last name and started to shower prayers on me, he prayed for the first 2 minutes and later introduced himself as a ‘’babalawo’’ (a fetish priest) from Modakeke ( a town close to Ife in Osun state). I didn’t dispute that fact, because he did sound a lot like one of those old ‘Ifa priests’ in Yoruba movies
After praying, he told me one of my close friends brought my picture to their meeting and requested for my insanity( he/she told them to make me go mad). I froze for about sixty seconds and a cold shiver ran through my spine. I couldn’t feel my feet on the ground so I took a seat. I could have sworn this was some sort of Yoruba movie and I was playing the lead role. That was the only rational explanation I had at that very moment. The man continued and said he took pity on me and decided to betray the group and help me out; hence, the call. At this point, my hands were starting to shake and I could hardly hold the phone in one piece.
The babalawo said he needed to do some sacrifices and he mentioned a number of traditional mumbo jumbo that’ll be needed for it. I told him I was in school and there was no way I could get those things so I asked for the cost. He said three thousand naira and told me to send it in recharge cards so he could give his son (Fayemi) to sell for me. I hung up and went straight to my best friend. She was more of clueless than surprised. She didn’t even believe me until I broke into tears.
I called my parents and before I even finished explaining, my dad told me it was all a scam and it was these ‘419’ people playing games again. I prayed afterwards and I felt a bit relieved. The man kept calling but I stopped picking, according to my parents’ instructions.
It may sound funny but such a call could have scared any young person.
I don’t know who this man is, where he got my name or even my number from but for the first few minutes, he got into my head; I was scared. Then later on I felt stupid and ashamed. I’ve been a Christian for as long as I can remember and it took just this little test of faith to erase me off the list of believers. I doubted God, in fact it didn’t even occur to me to pray first. Whether the call was real or not, I believed him initially and failed God.
Anybody can dress up every Sunday and go to church, read the bible daily, join every single group in church, go for prayer meetings, bible study and any other church activity but it takes a true Christian to trust God fully even against all odds. Just as every other relationship needs trust, so does our relationship with God. I tried to imagine the disappointment on God’s face after he saw my reaction to the call and despite this, I’m still very much alive and healthy .
The true test of faith is in trying times and I just felt the need to share this with my readers. Let’s not be Christians or Muslims because our parents are or because the preacher is fine or there’s a fine sister in choir. Religion is a personal decision not a mandate. Once you realise this, you’re one step ahead.
Thanks for reading and have a lovely weekend.