Lit Up

Chapter 12

“Look at the last verse, verse twenty three. It says ‘for the wages of sin is death but‘ ...But, there’s a ‘but’,”
he raised his index finger up.

“The wages of sin is death but what? The gift of God!” he exclaimed, walking towards the audience. “The gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord! Listen to me, your bible is in your hand right there. It tells you that eternal life is the gift of God. Let me ask you a question, do you work for a gift? Do you work to earn a gift? If you work to earn it, then it’s not a gift, it’s a wage or salary or fee, whatever English you want to use. A gift is free! You don’t work for it. You don’t slave for it! You receive it! Heyyy! You receive this gift that the father has made available for you through Christ with joy and gladness!”

There were head nods, people snapping fingers together, and some making exclamations.

“Let’s turn our bibles to Ephesians chapter one verse-” he paused briefly.

“-Verse seven, it says ‘In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.’ Listen to me, you have been redeemed through His blood, not through your works but through faith in the finished work of Christ; that he died, was buried and rose again so your sins could be atoned for. It’s free of charge. That’s why it is called the good news. It seems too good to be true. How can all my sins be wiped away because I simply believe that Jesus died for me? Quit trying to reason and rationalize it. Just accept it. The father sooooo loooooved you, so loved you, John 3:16, that scripture that we just used to recite in Sunday school without really understanding.”

He laughed and began walking to his left. He stopped before Zoe’s grinning face. “Zoe, do you know how many people can recite John 3:16 without batting an eyelid? Yet, many lack revelation.”

He turned to walk back the path he had just trod.

“Listen to me, read your bible. If you don’t believe what comes out of my mouth, at least you should believe this book,” he lifted the Bible in his hand.
He walked back to the lectern, cleared his throat before asking that someone read John 3:16 out loud.

“Say after me: God so loves me.” The audience echoed his words. “God sooooo loves me,” he drawled and they imitated him.

“Whosoever believes! Whosoever decides to believe shall not perish but have eternal life. Listen to me, this is the gospel o. You receive eternal life the moment you believe.”

Shouts of ‘glory’ rang out in the room. Some even jumped up in excitement.

“This gospel ehn,” he shook his head, a smile displaying on his face. Some people in the audience repeated his words, shouts of ‘glory’ bursting out again. Many were on their feet now.

“This gospel ehn, we will preach it! You must preach it! And don’t wait for the one Saturday in the month we set aside for evangelism before you preach it.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed dramatically.

“Listen to me, this news is too good. You gast share am!”

Ike rounded off the sermon and ushered them into a prayer session, after which Abdul came up to make some announcements and they shared the grace. He immediately searched for Fikayo with his eyes. He wanted to talk to her before she left. His eyes found her, his heart dropping a little that she was with company.

“Hey girls,” he greeted with a huge smile when he reached her where she was standing with Tani and Zoe. Their eyes were glued to Tani’s phone screen but lifted on hearing his voice. They returned his greeting and began chatting about the meeting just concluded. Fikayo barely butted into the conversation, looking anywhere but his direction.

***
After service the following day, Mrs Nnadi invited her to go back home with them for lunch. She hesitated a little because she didn’t want to see too much of Ike before yielding due to Mrs Nnadi’s insistence. She was already addicted to visiting his Instagram page to read captions she had already read, stare at pictures she had seen countless times. She was drawn to him, her crush on him continued to grow as each day went by.

Now, she was in the kitchen with Kosi who had been forced into washing plates. Fikayo was wiping them with a clean napkin and placing them where they belonged in the rack. Kaima was upstairs in her room; she did not know where Ike was and she didn’t care to know. Maybe she wanted to know...but it was only because she was curious. Nothing more.

“Wow, Koko, you’re actually washing plates.” Fikayo turned to face the direction the voice had come from and there was Ike, the object of her thoughts, sauntering towards them. She shifted her gaze so swiftly that one would think there was something on his face that could hurt her eyes.

“Don’t I wash plates?”

“Uh,” he pretended to think. “No!”

He was now standing right behind Fikayo. She took in a sharp breath.

Can this boy just leave me alone?

“You’re so annoying, Lolu. Can you like leave so I wash these plates in peace?” Kosi spat rudely.

He left the spot he was standing on to plant a soft kiss on Kosi’s right cheek. She pushed him and attempted to hit his shoulder but he held her hand, laughing while a pout formed on her lips.

“Kosi, you don’t respect your elders o,” Fikayo butted in, half teasing, half serious. Kosi hissed, placed her hand under running water and splashed it on Ike.

“Is this one the elder?” she turned her palm upwards to Ike in a derogatory manner.

“Can you see how this small thing talks to me?” he looked at Fikayo, amusement dancing in his eyes.

She held his gaze for a second, and then busied herself with drying plates. A second later, he was by her side, his right hand on hers. Her heart began racing.

“Let me help you with this,” he said, gently releasing the napkin from her grip. His shoulder brushed hers, setting butterflies free in her tummy. She took a step back, clearing her throat.

“Fikayo, can you help me finish washing these? I’m really dreading washing this pot,” Kosi begged, looking at her with puppy dog eyes and a downward bend of her lips.

“I actu-“Kosi cut her short. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she shouted, rushing to embrace her and with the same speed, making her way out of the kitchen.

Fikayo’s mouth parted in shock.

“You might want to close your mouth, dear,” he laughed, making her self-conscious. She closed her mouth and shook her head, walking to the sink.

She washed and rinsed the plates and cutlery left while Ike wiped and placed them in the rack. She grabbed the iron sponge, poured some liquid soap into the pot and turned on the tap for a second. She began scrubbing the pot.

“You know, you never told me the story of how you found LFC,” Ike stated. She glanced at him and found a soft smile on his handsome face. Why did he have to be so cute? Ugh!

Get it together, Fikayo

She told him, eliminating the part about her stalking him because of her crush on him.

“So, what’s your own story? I know you lied to dad about being a Redeemed member and I noticed a change in you at the first LFC meeting you attended. So I know something happened, something changed in you. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

He was looking into her eyes like he could read her. It seemed he could; he had after all read through her lie.
Surprise was etched on her face.

“What? How did you know I lied?” she laughed to make light of the matter even though her heart was now racing.

He chuckled and moved to the island, lowering himself on a stool.

“Fikayo, I’m sure even daddy and mummy saw through you. That’s by the way sha. I’m really interested in your story. Maybe we can feature you on our IG page?”

“I’m not sure I deserve to be featured. I am still very much struggling.”

“Struggling?” wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

She waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t bother, Ike.”

“I’m already bothered, dear, but if you don’t feel comfortable sharing, it’s okay.”

She was now done with the pot and turned to wipe her hands with the napkin on the island.

She cleared her throat, willing herself not to lose composure. There was a stiffening sensation in her throat and she knew tears would gush out in any minute.

“Um look, let’s forget I said that,” she said, toying with her loop earring.

“Are you sure, Fikayo? Listen, you can talk to me. I’m known to be a good listener and whatever you say stays here,” he smiled softly and she almost gave in...almost. She didn’t doubt all that he said but was afraid of vulnerability. She was used to strapping all her burden to herself alone.

You can cast your burden on me

She knew the thought was not hers. Was it God? Could God really speak to her?

“Yeah,” she shook her head and nodded. Her mind was a jumbled mess.

“Alright but I can’t forget. Let’s exchange numbers in case you change your mind about sharing.”

She felt jittery but put on a confident persona as she typed in her phone number into his phone.

***
A knock on the door drew Fikayo’s attention from her Whatsapp status updates.

“Get the door, Fikayomi,” her mum shouted from the kitchen.

She stood, slid into her flip flops and unlocked the door. She was stunned to see her paternal grandmother’s unsmiling face. She was dressed in Ankara iro and buba, her head covered with the same material, a black hand bag hung on her left shoulder, a polythene bag in her right hand. Fikayo dropped her knees to the ground instantly.

“Ekáàbò, grandma.”

“Thank you,” the elderly woman retorted in Yoruba, scrunching her face up. Fikayo rose up and her grandma grabbed her hand and thrust the polythene bag in her hands.

“Take take take, can’t you offer to collect it from me? Where’s your mother?” she asked in Yoruba.

“In the kitchen, ma,” Fikayo replied in English.

“When I speak to you in Yoruba don’t reply me in English, so gbó?” she tugged at her ear lobe, tilting her head.

“Mo ní so gbó mi?” her voice spewed anger when Fikayo remained silent.

“Mo gbó, ma.”

They walked into the kitchen, her grandmother behind her. Her mother immediately knelt down on seeing her mother-in-law.

“Mummy, E káàsan ma. We were not expecting you today o. I would have prepared something for you.”

There was an unusual huge smile on her mother’s face but she could perceive her nervousness.

“Are you saying I cannot come anytime I want? Is that the new way of chasing me from my own son’s house? Abi, is it your useless cloth business that pays for this house?”

Her mother was still on her knees, her mouth hanging open in shock. She recovered quickly, getting on her feet.

“Fikayo,” her grandma turned to her.

“Give your mother the bag. I brought new yam and fresh vegatables. You should have pepper at home now. Sha make me pounded yam and Efo riro. That’s the least you can give me since you couldn’t give us a grandson. Hmm, I’m going to watch Tv in my son’s parlour. E jé kó yá o.”

Mother and daughter looked at each other; both mouths parted in astonishment.

...
Fikayo is practically family now to the Nnadi's. I love to see it🥰.

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