Toto Series: Nobody Is Off Limits

Toto Series - That's your problem

No body is off limit

If na by your argument then everybody go enter hell so make everybody getaaat!”

“Don’t take this too personal. All she is saying is that some things are off-limits and seducing a pastor is one of them.”

“What do you mean by taking things too personal? Person dey talk rubbish about my person and you are saying I should not take it too personal? So suddenly you people know some things should be off-limits but you are servicing your boss, his boss and his brother because you want promotion. Miss don’t touch my anointed here who is allowing her lecturers touch everything, shey those ones no dey off-limit na single man wey no even get babe wey I talk say I want don suddenly turn off-limits because him na pastor? Pastors no dey fuck?”

You see why I do not like living with girls ba. Them go just wake up begin find wetin no loss. We were at breakfast before Sunday service and I mentioned how I would love Pastor Michael to spread me like bread and insert his penis like Akara on a cold Sunday morning like this one so we go cum make hot pap as breakfast na im these cackling witches turn angels begin dey tell me rubbish say as I wan make pastor sin, I go get better mansion for hell complete with AC and bodyguard.

Wo! Make everybody getttaaaatt!!! and you see that pastor Mike, I must fuck am.

Ever since pastor mike resumed at Tabernacle of glories church international Guzape, three months ago; attendance had quadrupled for the 8:00am service. Service wey former pastor dey beg make people attend before, now people no dey see place siddon.

Every Sunday people trooped to church wearing their Sunday best, literally. To be fair, not everybody was there to catch a glance at him. Apart from being drop-dead gorgeous, pastor mike was on fire for the lord. One hour of listening to him felt like 10 seconds. He was charming, charismatic and knew the word of God. He was transferred from Portharcout and based on gist sha, e be like dem send am come Abuja to avoid belle scandal. I guess they figured Abuja babes eye don too tear.

My plan to seduce him was set in motion. No be those kind Nigerian feem own wey you go see person wey wan seduce pastor dey dress Mary Amaka or Delilah. No. You have to find balance. Not too sprikoko and not totally street. Balance. Working in the sales and marketing sector in Lagos opens your eyes to how to approach various clients and how to make them patronize you. If you enter places like V I, Lekki and co, na queens English get you except for those wey been grow from street wey want make you relate with them unto that level. Then when you enter Mushin, Ikorodu, Festac etc dem na area!.

For somebody like pastor Mike, it is obvious he knows he is fine and is conscious of the attention he gets. The idea is not to drown in the sea of mindless fans. During revival week, after a particularly intense session,  pastor Mike called for those who wished to rededicate themselves to God to come forth to the alter. Everybody came out except me. I stayed in my seat right there at the front pew as the whole congregation were gyrating and exhibiting being filled with the spirit. He looked at me with a confused look on his face before he went to pray for those who came out. I left church before they returned to their seats.

My roommates; Mary Jegede and Mary Steven – to differentiate them we called them by their surname,- came back and said pastor Mike had mentioned something about those who could not come out in church should come for private sessions during the revival week. On a normal day, that would be my cue but you have to understand that for a man like pastor Mike, showing up eager to please won’t work. He needs to be the one to pursue you. He wants to be the one to convince you that his wooing you is God’s will.

And so, every Sunday I sat in front, interjected ride on pastor!- always ride on or Yes pastor! So that he saw me but not too much to make me too available. I always dressed demurely. Nothing too revealing, just enough of a promising suggestion. And whenever our eyes met and it now did ever so often, I’d hold it for a few seconds then drop my eyes coyly. The last week of march – six weeks after I began prepping him, Brother Matthew informed me pastor mike wanted to see me in his office on Wednesday after midweek service. I feigned innocence and asked if it was something I did wrong but Brother Matthew said he did not know why but assured me I was not in trouble.

On Wednesday I did not attend church and I did not go to his office either. My boss Tega, a mean spirited man who hated anybody around him to be happy decided that day to keep us all back to work on a campaign that according to him would revolutionize Nigeria. Working in the creative department of Nexend corp was a dream come true for me. The pay is good – a leap from what I was earning chopping shoe on the streets of Lagos, we even have healthcare and insurance packages. The only bad side and it is truly terrible is Tega, the boss. No wonder him never marry, who go wan tie herself to a narcissistic prick without human feelings? Even with him money, e get some kain cross wey no worth am.

We in the creative department were to come up with pitch ideas of four out of the nine components. Each pitch had an accompanying ad and a nationwide rollout plan. To create a seamless process those working on the project – the IT guys, Creative and Legal were booked into a hotel for the week. In as much as he was a mad man on steroids, he ensured that he provided us with the tools to make us at our best. As long as work is concerned, he would demand your last blood but give you the best.

On Saturday afternoon I got an SMS.

“You have not been to church in two weeks which is unusual. I hope you are fine?” I did not know who the message was from and I was too caught up in work to even bother finding out. The next message came on Sunday abi should I say Monday by 2am.

“Good evening sister Joy. Are you sure you are alright? You can share your burden with me so I can pray for you. Pastor Michael.”

Ah, an! pastor wants me to unburden on him by 2am. Even though I had not had close to 10 hours of sleep since we lodged and everybody was cranky and bone-tired, I still managed to do a little victory dance. This would most definitely be a nice way to release all this anger frustration and tiredness.

“Good morning Pastor Michael. Thank you for checking up on me. Work is a bit hectic that is why. I hope to be at church for Sunday service.”

“That is good to hear. See you in church. Goodnight.”

On Sunday morning we got an email instruction to cancel any church plans if we had made any. We would be adequately compensated for overtime ba bla bla. I did not have any church plans. I know I told Pastor Mike I will be in church on Sunday but as I said, men like him like to do the pursuing and even though it was work that was making me unavailable, it was working in my favour.

It would take another three weeks before we were able to present a “passable pitch” according to the boss. Shey I teh una say my boss na demon? of the Edo type sef. True to his word our salary for the two months came with a 30% bonus for each of us. The hotel bills- feeding and laundry were all paid for by the company. We also got to pick three days off.

I picked Wednesday Thursday Friday so that I could have a long weekend. It also coincided with when Jegede and Stephen would be out of town. I no wan make them pour sand for my garri. On Tuesday evening I texted pastor mike to inform him of my availability for midweek service. I arrived very early and sat at my usual place. I was putting on a flay polka dot skirt with a black turtle-neck body-con and flat shoes. As soon as he climbed the alter his eyes caught mine and he smiled broadly. He was excited to see me and even though I was bone tired I felt more than alive. I was on my feet all through service screaming ride on pastor!. At the end of service, he was swamped by the congregation before I had any chance to speak. Our eyes locked and he gave me a “Please stay” look. I was not sure tho so I picked my stuff and headed for the door. Brother Matthew caught up with me and said Pastor Mike asked to meet him in his office. “But half d church dey there na?”

“The spirit moved in a massive way today sister Joy! But pastor Michael said what he needs to talk to you is very important.”.

I followed silently and was soon swallowed by the sea of people waiting to be blessed by Pastor Mike. I wondered if I was the only one with my specific kind of blessing in mind? Surely with these many fine women who looked less than pleased at the number of people here, we plenty wey need wiping.

I sat at the back playing candy crush. When that did not help I watched funny videos on Instagram. By 9:00pm two hours after service had ended I was asked into the office. He dismissed Brother Matthew and told him it was fine to go home. He would lock up and drive me home. Brother Matthew did not object and if he felt somehow leaving both of us alone together he did not show it.

We sat in silence. He was on his phone typing seriously while I looked at his sanctuary. I had never been inside a Pastor’s office and so did not expect the affluence. This office could easily pass for a governor’s office. It was large with buttoned gold embroidered grey settees. There was an entertainment corner at the large glass windows. A black coffee table with a matching cabinet full of assorted biscuits and teas. There was also a refrigerator I assume had more than juice stashed in. The carpet was a thick grey that matched the chairs and curtains. His desk was a large imposing black thing that seemed to rise and fill the room. It was surprisingly empty. When I entered was there not a computer and files? Where was Pastor Mike? The click at the door answered my question. Before I knew what was happening I was lifted to the desk.

“Pastor Mike” I exclaimed breathlessly.

What was happening? This was going way faster than I had ever imagined. his belt was undone and he placed my hand on his dick. I gasped at the feel. There was a zap of current that crossed from his penis through my hand and nestled deep inside me. I held on to it like it was my anchor. My head felt light and the office began to move in sync with my hands over his fully erect penis. His movements were efficient and fluid.

I was spread on his desk, my panties sodden at my ankles. My breasts were still covered by the body con but freed from the straps of my bra. The sensation of his hands over my erect nipples through the fabric, while his lips and tongue teased my neck and earlobe was beyond what I could contain. His lips replaced his hands while he dug one then two fingers inside me.

I gasped and moaned and shivered at once. I was plagued by too many sensations. He positioned his crown at the mouth of my woman sending blinding fire through me. How can one man be able to draw such forbidden responses from me? Then he stood back and looked into my eyes and spoke to me for the first time since I entered his office.

“You belong to me” and with that, he slithered in. A venomous rattlesnake summoning something dark and unexplored, deep inside my woman.

His mouth snatched the deep growl from coming out. There was nothing delicate or even honourable about how he fucked me. It was unbelievably intense. As intense as any fuck could be. And it was over. Just like that. I was breathless and o so unsatisfied.

He moved out of me to fix himself and I fell to the ground on all fours, sinking into his thick grey carpet. I stayed there unable to connect my limbs to my brain. What was that? I had come here expecting him to flirt with me but still maintain some flair of “being a concerned church leader” Instead I got spread like hot bread just like I wanted. Who am I kidding? this was way beyond anything I had imagined or experienced.

“Maybe next time I would take you from the back just like that”

I was on the floor still unable to move, but he was back behind his desk with an uninterrupted view of my bum. I shook my head as if that movement would somehow gather my scattered thoughts and bring some coordination.

“We would need more time”

I couldn’t move yet my mind was wanting more time? Was it my mind or my still throbbing pussy? I finally got up smothered down my skirt and sat gingerly on the couch.

I could not sleep. I could not eat. I could not function for weeks since that evening at Pastor Mike’s office. There was an intense itch that had come alive in me and only he could scratch it. I may be possessed because I no dey use eye see man again. Be like everybody don turn to wood. Yet he was not available. He was at a pastor’s conference in Lagos and after the conference, he would be heading out to Georgia. As I said, he was on fire for the Lord and in high demand.

My plan on coming to Abuja was to work hard, save enough money to rent my own place so Peace – my younger sister would join me. As the firstborn to a widowed mother, most of the responsibilities of my four younger siblings were on me. That plan had taking longer than expected. Living in this Abuja get as e be. Things dey cost anyhow and since Pastor Mike come, I know how much I don spend on cloth and make-up and perfume. I never add wigs and shoe money.

The evening before he flew to Georgia he called me and we spoke. This was the first time we spoke like really spoke. I tell am the way mumsi face fire after her husband die. The only thing our papa people no collect na her job because even our clothes dem collect am all. I dey Unilag 300 level when e happen. Na aunty Linda; our mama younger sister carry us make we stay with her while our mama find small face me I face you. Peace was in ss1 and dropped out to join my aunty to sell okirika in Balogun market while my mama become petty trader join am with her teaching job take pay my younger siblings their school fees.

If I wanted to stay in school, I was on my own. I started making hair and nails between lectures. I also wrote assignments, tests and sometimes exams for money. During holidays I dey hustle anything wey I fit to get. I don do Usher job, sales girl for boutique, receptionist work before I get marketing and sales job for one big company wey dey sell organic supplements. I do that work on the low make my aunty no know. Na so I begin send my mumsi small small change so that she go fit leave the petty trading. It was at a prospective client’s place that I overheard them talking about a new company recruiting.

The next week I was in their Ikeja office. The recruiter said I fit what they wanted but there was nothing she could do since I was still a student. Even if it was my final year. I began visiting the office every day Monday to Friday until she took pity on me and gave me an internship position. It was very demanding but by now I had gotten used to the madness of Lagos and was able to pull off my sales job, school and the internship. After my last paper, still wet from the celebrations I went to the office to inform Margaret – my godmother, that I was free! two months later I was sent to Abuja to be a part of the new branch.

A month later I went to NYSC camp and Margaret ensured I was posted to work there. The only corp member with that privilege.  He listened intently as I rambled on about my family problems and how one moment life was good and the next moment it had become a living nightmare.

“Now that you belong to me you would never lack anything.”

The way he said it made my scalp tickle. It was both a promise and a threat. I was not sure how to react so I stayed silent.

“I have to go now. Send me your account details. And Joy… be ready for my return.”

He did not wait for a response before cutting the call. The tingle in my pussy was back with roaring force. There was a gaping hole between my legs and I was running mad with desire. I lay awake in bed creating scenes of us together. He said he would take me from the back the next time. My ass jutted at the thought. My body as if possessed arched to give a silent lover access. For the first time in all my life, I touched myself.

I rubbed my vagina walls with the flat of my palms in an up and down then circular motion and imagined it was him there. I removed my nighty and wore the body-con turtleneck I wore that Wednesday night. I touched my breasts and squeezed my nipple between my thumb and middle finger recreating the sensations of that night. I lay on my back and spread my legs wide so that he would fit in. I inserted one finger then another and began moving with what I hoped was the same precision and force with which he fucked me on his office desk.

I licked my fingers to lubricate them before putting them back inside me. The taste of my woman together with the sensations from my breasts pushed me forward. By the time my breathing slowed, I got an alert of 3 million naira from Michael K Damini. His message dropped by 5;00am. “send some to your mum then begin a search for a comfortable place.”

3 million naira? Just like that? The highest money I don receive at once na 250k from one aristo I been meet for Lagos. Na him I been dey use keep body and soul together that year. 3 million naira just like that? And from person wey na fuck carry me? God dey answer prayers mysteriously sha.

On Monday morning I called my mum and told her I was sending her some money. Na beg I carry join make she no fear. I teh am say no be thief I thief am. I tell am say make she use am wisely and by God’s grace I go soon fit to carry Peace make she join me for Abuja. During my lunch break, I went to the bank and sent 1 million naira to her then switched off my phone. Make she calm down fess. I go call am for evening. Back at the office, I was informed that Tega wanted to see me in his office and that he was pissed. I walked to his office and kicked myself mentally. Shey I for no allow my mama make she pray for me cast every evil eye wey wan look my side. He was on his way out when I climbed the third floor.

“Good afternoon sir. You sent for me.”

“Miss Macauley?”

“Yes sir”

“ I am off to the airport now. Remind me when I get back on Friday.”

“Yes sir.”

I stood and watched him leave. This was the first time I was this close to him. The first time we had exchanged words not via email. In my two and a half years of working in Abuja, He never mingled with staff. He was always traveling and the few times he was in the office everybody knew better than to be visible. And so far I had succeeded. So what now? What did I do to warrant him inviting me to his office and pissed for that matter? God help me. Just when it looks like my troubles are over then this??

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Simi.

by SoniaDash, published 2 years, 8 months ago

Simi.

Disclaimer

All characters portrayed here are a work of fiction and bear no resemblance to any person living or dead. Any coincidences are just that. Regretful coincidences.

Certain times are described as pivotal moments to one knowing who they are or their purpose in life. Some say they knew they would be preachers because they got a summons from God, others to be doctors because they killed little animals growing up. For Simi, it had nothing to do with any of that.

Simi was raised to be seen and not heard, to follow the rules with her head to the ground lest her eyes meet that of a man. She was born to follow the rules. And the rules said she learnt to cook clean and cater for the household. The rules said she got an education, enough to increase her brideprice but not too much so that she became a burden to her family, and that is exactly what she did.

Simi was an enigma. She was meek but full of courage, beautiful and regal yet humble and straightforward. She was fiercely intelligent yet pride was far from her heart. After she graduated from standard six her parents decided she was ripe for marriage. She was 15.

In her time it was quite normal to be shipped off to a man trice her age. It was an honour to get suitors to flock a Dara's compound once his daughters crossed the age of 10.

And so the process began for her journey to her second home.

A woman has only two homes. Her father's compound, her husband's compound and if she was a dutiful daughter, wife and mother, she earned a resting place with her ancestors.

That was the way it was.

Out of the many suitors that came for her hand, her parents chose Badung. Badung was the first and only son of the 5th wife of the newly crowned Da Manjei of Vwai. His mother, a beautiful fair woman, a thank you the Da Manjei had brought back as a child after the great Vandebong war from the neighbouring Afizere stronghold.  

He was a man to be feared the Da Manjei. He was large and black with arms the sizes of large Quanpaan yams complete with spiky hair. Before he became Da Manjei, he was called Chwei! The man whose roar was frightening and whose bite was deadly. Badung grew up under his tutelage and soon enough began making a name for himself. He wasn't as large or as frightening as his father, but he was nonetheless formidable.

He was a farmer only because of peace. Some say he had more thirst for blood than any other warrior his age, even more than his father but his kind won wars and that was alright.

That was the way it was.

At 33 he was a force to reckon with.  

For Simi, she had come to terms with her lot. Nobody asked her of her desires, and she never mentioned them.

That was the way it was.

She was to be married off to Badung even though the innocent stirrings of love had been awakened by Izam the 17-year-old from Jwahr, the neighbouring Afizere stronghold. He was a gentle spoken boy who wanted to become a painter but since that was unheard of he was becoming a doctor. That was the way it was. See, back then, you were what your parents decided. It was non-negotiable. If they said you become a doctor, a farmer or a palm-wine tapper, you became a doctor, a farmer and a palm-wine tapper.

That was the way it was.

Izam who was in standard seven had written the yearly scholarship examination and was going to London at the end of harvest.  When he heard the news, he cornered her at the marketplace and poured out his heart to her. He begged and cajoled and promised and yet nothing. She stood unmoved to his pleas. She was going to marry Badung and that was it.

Simi had accepted her lot and so would he, or so she thought. But that was not his fate and he knew it. He knew he couldn't live without her. His nights were plagued with her smile, the heat emanating from her skin whenever they walked together. His waking moments were filled with charting their lives together.

He was going to become a doctor by day and a painter by night while she was going to become a teacher and a mother to his children. He knew nothing else.

It happened so fast. She had lifted the earthen pot filled with water on her head and was headed home when she heard footsteps. Before she turned to search the owner of the feet, she was floating. A hand clamped hard over her mouth preventing her from screaming, and even the pot somehow didn't smash. One moment she was there, and just like in ghost stories, she disappeared.

At dinner time,  her mother had gone beyond fretful. Simi was nowhere to be found. She had watched the road leading to the stream as if by sheer will she could conjure her daughter. Knowing she couldn't keep it away from her husband any longer, she placed one foot now replaced with concrete in front of the other.

As she approached where he was resting under the Dinya tree, she heard the voice of Badung. Her heart did a triple somersault.  Surely she couldn't tell her husband that their daughter was missing in front of her betrothed. His fiery anger was not one to trifle with. Moreover, she told herself Simi could at this very moment be finding her way back armed with a logical explanation for her whereabouts.

But what if something had indeed befallen her daughter? Her mind poked at her. Wouldn't she want Badung to lead the search for her? But instead, she approached them and inquired if they were ready to be served. It would be well by sunrise she mused. Everything has a way of setting aright by morning.  

When he woke covered in sweat from a dream he had no recollection of, he knew the sunrise had come pregnant. He quickly prepared himself and went to his farms to check what was amiss. There was nothing out of place, nothing wrong at his new structures or even at his barn that was easy prey to rodents and the village's riff-raff. The nagging feeling of impending doom had persisted into late morning. Even as he sat to enjoy the food presented to him, he couldn't stop his mind from wondering. As he devoured the tuwo'n dawa and miya'n gyeda his wife set before him, his visitors arrived.

It was not uncommon in Berom land for lovers to run away when faced with adversity. It was also not uncommon for a young man to plan together with his friends to *steal* his beloved and place her under arrest. Once the sun rose to meet a young maiden under the roof of a man, she was considered defiled. It was a common practice people got accustomed to and is still practised today. So much so that it was jokingly referred to as jut tele literally translated to steal her.  That was the way it was.

So as Dara Simi worked up an apatite with each mouthful he swallowed, in walked Izam in the company of his father, two elder brothers and best friend. They had come to inform their new in-law that their daughter was safe and that they were ready and willing to proceed with the customary rights to make Simi an official wife.

He went to Badung's place after he dismissed them as quickly as his legs could carry him. Badung was uncharacteristically calm as Dara Simi recounted the events of the day. His jaw was clenched as he listened intently to the events that transpired. When Dara Simi finished his tale, Badung called on Ladi his slave to bring palm wine for his father-in-law. When the wine was brought and libation observed he excused himself and went to the inner chamber.

Simi woke to a shrill voice and as the mist from her induced sleep ebbed, she recognized the voice as hers. Strange, it seemed the scream she had been denied had finally found a way out. Even though she was still heavily sedated she struggled to find a way out of her captivity.

Her mind even though too weak from the poison in her body, the urge to survive propelled her forward. She found an opening through the darkness and in one desperate last move busted into brightness.

The bright sun perched in the middle of the sky, the noise of children playing, goats bleating, metals scraping, all sounded 20 decimals louder than usual., Humanity assaulted her. She pressed on her ears, hoping to block out the torture as her voice, shrill and ragged joined the cacophony.

Izam, his father Atsi, two elder brothers and best friend arrived to find a growing crowd in their compound. Navigating through the maze of sweaty, chattering onlookers and feverish talkers, they saw Simi sprawled on the ground like a discarded rag doll, with her hands clasped to her ears as if to shut the world out. Atsi, a renowned medicine man dispersed the crowd and ordered his sons to bring her to his chamber. Izam's best friend Azi was sent off to the forest to gather much-needed herbs. The potion used during the jut tele was so strong that it had drained the strength from her small frame. The battle for her life was now in the hands of the gods.

Izam could feel his father's anger towards him even as he worked to bring Simi back from the clutch of death. His father was a man of few words and today his words were fewer still. He had never seen his father this apprehensive or angry before.

Even in the face of what would normally send a man to the deepest trenches of madness, his father passed over with little irritation. today was different. As they sat silent under the night in the courtyard, his heart began to grow cold. He should have known better than to steal from his father but fear is as potent a drug as love.

He was afraid his father would advise him against his plan to steal Simi using the medicine. He was scared his father upon hearing she belonged to another would order his steps in a different direction. And so he snuck into his father's inner chamber and stole a sleeping potion.

Administered properly, it was used to calm a being troubled by dark spirits so his father could perform the necessary exorcism. For if the person was to be awake when it happened, the chances of survival become minimal. What he didn't know was administered on a person who wasn't troubled by dark spirits, was an open invitation for possession. And so, in his quest to steal a love he felt had been wrongly taken from him, he had handed her over to spirits yet unnamed, yet unknown.

In the night, the sound of drumming filled Vwai! The horns followed shortly and the night was awake.

War had come!

Atsi had seen the beckoning of war. For Bubrukah the eye; had warned him of impending doom but because he was still clouded by grief, didn't sense the whole picture. His vision had never been what it used to be since the death of his wife 5 years ago. But when Izam told him on the morning of Simi's capture what he had done, he grew anxious. The people of Vwai and Jwahr had brokered a peace deal after years and years of intense turmoil. The deal signed a long time ago however had deteriorated over the years. Border disputes were commonplace now and even though they shared many similarities there was also a deep enmity buried just underneath the surface.

Atsi had quickly rushed to the house of Dara Simi to perform the rites as expected to prevent an escalation of events but discovered a new dimension to the tale, one his son had forgotten to mention. Badung. He knew Chwei's lust for bloodshed first hand during the great Vendabong war. He also knew he had had his eyes on Jwahr for a long time but because of the peace accord, was held in check.

Now his son had provided the best opportunity for invasion. He set foot with his sons and Azi in tow for the Da Manjai's house, hoping that age and domestication would make him more approachable to reason. He was wrong. Very very wrong. Even his sister's cries, who merely a child was given as a thank you after the Vendabong war fell on deaf ears.

Back in Jwahr, he went straight to the Agwom with the news. To prevent the coming doom he had been warned about,  Simi had to be returned untouched by the Agwom himself to the Da Manjei. He pleaded with the Agwom to send emissaries to Vwai immediately with the news of her coming, together with a King's apology. However,  even before the emissaries set foot, that night, a neighbouring settlement was burnt down. No survivors.

Young love is bold yet impatient, adventurous yet unwise. Young love has led many a man to his doom, but most often though, it has led many a man to his purpose. Young love needs guidance to grow, to escape the many loopholes that have bedevilled it.

And so the drums of war were struck in the middle of the night. Young men and boys alike quickly said their goodbyes to their wives and mothers. The old and grey rounded up the children and marched to the ancestral cave of covering. The warriors came to Atsi for fortification and to each, he gave a mark in accordance to his spirit, all the warriors including his three sons.

Simi saw the arrow aglow and black as it coursed through the night and found its resting place, deep in Azi's heart. She heard the dying wail of Arum, the first son of Atsi. She searched through the scene of the massacre but couldn't find Izam. He wasn't standing on the field of battle. Her body began to tremble with foam forming in her mouth. Then she saw him. Frail and afraid beneath the heel of Badung, the man she was to call husband.

She screamed and ran as quickly as her two legs could carry her but she knew she would never reach him in time. She could not save the one who had stirred up feelings in her tender heart. Her body began to convulse and Atsi knew the time of possession was inevitable. During a battle, too many evil spirits run amok. And so he stood at ready, sword in hand, divine words heavy on his tongue. For if she became possessed, he would have no choice but to kill her.  

Certain times are described as pivotal moments to one knowing who they are or what their purpose in life is but for Simi, duty, love and war brought her to her purpose. She died that night, a thousand deaths she had and each one, a warrior faced death with calm. Nobody knows her because only the dying truly sees her, but she is there. To those who know her, she is known as She traverses the worlds of the living and the dead with a single purpose as true as her name. Love. So with love, she follows an aged mother home, with love she renews and replenishes the land. And with love, she brought a people who for long even though one, had sought to exploit their differences instead of celebrating them. Nothing indeed is greater than love.


WHILE I WAIT.

by Joy Okwori, published 2 years, 11 months ago

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I was once imprisoned by words whose aura is darkness. I was held down in this prison by unfriendly forces, so I sat on a stool of uncertainty as I held the moon.

I crawled through the night with gritted teeth, like one with no hope. And I couldn't dance because shackles held my feet.

Yesterday was once, today doesn't make it twice. I breakout, I don't belong to prison; the Judge said so. I smelt like rotten tomatoes, frail from tireless torture.

The Judge beckoned with open arms, and I ran with the speed of light. My accusers didn't know what crime to nail me with. The Judge knew what currency to bail me with; the blood.

Broad smiles.

Heartfelt laughter.

I dance.

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