The Preacher Son

Episode 4

How my mother came home was a miracle, she was aided by some muslim women who gave her a Hijab to cover and she pass over the
roadblocks and came home.

“we have to find a way to escape” My mother told us after we welcomed her.

That was when i remembered we were cooking and as a bad guy with food on my agenda. I said “mummy but how we go run when we never chop that rice na?”

Nobody cared about the rice, what was on everyone’s mind was how to escape from the burning compound. We diversed a means to escape, we loaded about three big stones untop of each other and started climbing over the fence to our neighbour’s compound.

After a short time we made our way from our neighbour’s house into the streets of Jos. We accepted a lift from a man who took us to a G.R.A, where Janet’s parents met us and boarded a bus to their state, the rest of us went to my Dad’s mission house to await him admist fear and anxiety.

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MY DAD SIDE OF THE STORY
I went out that day to evangelize in the city of Jos, i was putting on a white caftan and trousers, so when the riot started that fateful day, I was confused because i was putting on a caftan in a christian neigbourhood.

“See one of them o” a man scream from nowhere and they pounced on me threatening to beat me up, what saved me that day was my I.D card which showed i was a man of God before I was left alone. I quickly threw my caftan away and pick up a shirt i saw hanging on a rope and wore it, atleast God will understand its not stealing but sharp man.

My thoughts were about my wife and children, did they survive or not, i didn’t know. On my way i came across a group of fighters waiting to devour any wrong passerby who wasnt their religion.

A story was said about a muslim man who was caught by a squad of christian fighters, he was asked to complete the following words.

“In the name of the father, and of the son,… What is the last part? he was asked.
The man smiled and said “and of the mama”.
That was how the man visited his grand fathers that day.

Back to my story, After seeing the group of armed bandits i prayed only one prayer to God, that if His will for me has been fufilled, he should take me home but if i still had anything left to do in this world let His will be done.

I then walked up to the checkpoint and started going, no one even say a word they were just discussing like no one had passed them. The next thing on my mind after passing the checkpoint were my kids, so i ran to my house at dodo street, in kwararafa junction, and saw my compound on fire, i quickly ran
upstairs and saw the house empty.

My mind was at ease and in turmoil at the same time, one mind was glad they had escape and the other was on how they had fared and where they had gone to. I ran into the kitchen and saw a pot of rice burning on the fire, i quickly took it down and warm the stew but there was no appetite to eat. I layed down in the kitchen waiting for dawn to break and ways to escape from the house and look for my family.

Luckily a group of soldier men came to my area and dispersed the rioting group, so i quickly came out and started walking, the first place that came to my mind was my mission quaters.

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I slept that night dreaming about my dad and also thanking God i did not die nor did any of my siblings and i was also very happy that I would still have chance to marry an oyinbo woman (I’m still waiting for that prayer to be
answered though)

The next morning i woke up and went to brush my teeth with a chewing stick cus I forgot even my brush when we fled, when I heard “Daddy, oyoyo” i turned and it was no other person than my dad standing hale and hearty but wearing a funny combination of a tee-shirt and a caftan trousers with slippers.

That was not my problem i was just glad he came, if not i would have joined the fatherless clan by now.

Lets skip that issue for another day and let’s move forward a little….