The Prophet part 10

Antubam held the needle firmly, his body almost shaking with excitement. After all the suspense, Betty was going to be under his control.

He would conquer that beau­tiful, intransigent girl once and for all. And after marrying her, he would take her sister, Mary, and her friend, Suzzie, as second and third wives. And of course, he would continue to enjoy his regular supply of women from among the church members. Wow!

“You can see her, can’t you?” the old, little fetish priestess asked him.

“No, not yet,” Antubam replied, his gaze fixed on the two mirrors.

“Keep looking,” the Okomfo said. “She is bound to show up.”

Then something happened, sud­denly. A sound like a big windstorm engulfed the shrine, and descend­ed with great power. Vvvrrrr­rooooooom! It quenched the fire, and sent the three of them crashing onto the floor.

Surprisingly, the shrine stayed completely dry. For several min­utes they lay on the floor, very weak, their heads almost splitting with pain. Finally they managed to sit up.

“I told you, Antubam,” the Okomfo said, “not to fight with those people. They are far greater than us. We don’t fight that book, and I always tell my clients not to even mention it, if they can. But you insist on confronting that woman whose head is permanently stuck in it.

Now, leave this shrine immediate­ly, and come back in three days to perform purification rites to pacify Nana Kofi Broni. You have been ungrateful to him, after all those women he has given you. Now, leave.” He rose up to go, but the old woman raised her hand.

“Just a minute. He cannot leave without pacifying Nana Kweefi, the ruler of the mirrors. Nana wanted to help him, but his abnormal lust for women prevented this from happening. Now, follow me to my shrine, and I will enjoy your body for a couple of hours. That is your punishment.”

Antubam stared at her, disbelief and revulsion boldly written on his face.

“You dare reject me? Do you want to lose your manhood by noon today?”

Antubam shook his head and followed her. In twenty minutes they were there. She brought out a bottle from a big gourd, gulped down a good part of its contents and passed it on to him. Antubam took it, greatly relieved for alcohol­ic assistance in performing a very unattractive assignment. He did what he had to do and, still drunk, he scrambled to his car and took off.

He parked his car, and called out to his houseboy as he rushed to the shower.

“Bring me a new pair of shorts, and get my food ready. And put the whisky and a glass on the table.” There was no response. After sever­al minutes’ attempt at wiping away the morning’s ordeal, he wore his trousers again and headed for the bedroom.

But just when he opened the door, two big arms grabbed him and pinned him against the wall, and another hand gave him a hefty slap. A man seated on the sofa nodded in approval and pointed at Antubam.

“Now listen, you interfering idiot. I came to give you some friendly advice. You should have known that somebody has been to Nana Broni ahead of you, and come to me for approval and advice. But you have just gone ahead to mobilise people, and now you are going on radio. From today, you are going to keep within the limits I set for you.

You will make sure you don’t approach my market. I have been in the business way ahead of you. I am known in Europe and America, and I have done wonders for many Ghanaians, Africans and even white people all over the world. I am far ahead of you, and you will operate in the areas I set for you. If you don’t do that, I will cut you down. You are easy meat for me. Is that clear?”

“But who are you?” Antubam asked, and received another hefty slap. He realised that he had to do something quickly before they did something terrible to him. He remembered the stick. With great difficulty, he released his right hand, reached into his pocket and grabbed the stick. With a sudden gush of power, he pushed his two attackers and sent them crashing onto the floor.

“I see the other man said. ‘You have received some protection. Get up, boys and let’s go. This idiot wants a fight. We’ll give him a good one. Get ready, Antubam. I will show you why they call me Gidigi­di,” As they went away, Antubam shouted after them.

“You took me unawares, but listen, I will give you the bloodiest nose you have ever received in your life. Trust me. All three of you are just muscles and fat, no brains. If you have a quarrel, why don’t you go and settle it with Nana Broni?” As they drove off, Priscilla entered the house, her arms outstretched.

“Sweetheart, have you missed me?”

“I have learnt from experience that whenever you say words like that, my pocket is in for some serious trouble. But you are right, I have missed you. Why don’t we?”

“No problem. I will give you a good time. Your pocket must also remember to give me a good time.”

Mary picked up the phone. It was Suzzie.

“Why, Suzzie, can’t you sleep?”

“I slept very well, actually. I called to tell you that we must make a clean break with the past, and with Antubam, and stick with Betty. I thought about this whole Antubam episode last night, and I realize we were heading for trou­ble. I am sorry that I brought you into it.”

“Don’t be silly, Suzzie. We were desiring to do something produc­tive with our lives. Nobody was prepared to give us any free as­sistance. But I also realize that we should have gone to God in humility and not get involved with that fraud. Betty brought us to our senses, just in time.”

“Now Mary, let’s hand it all over to the Lord, as ask Him to help us out. Is Betty up yet?”

“She is. We were just about to start praying. Why don’t you join us?”

“I’m on my way.”

By Ekow de Heer