Pastor’s Second Wife- Part Ten

Part Ten

A Story by Ayodele Adeoye

I gave him a dirty slap that I’m sure affected his ancestors in their graves. The slap was so bad that he landed on the floor on his back. When he stood up he wore a face that connoted vexation; his eyes were red and full of rage. I was not sorry, neither was I remorseful about it. I would have made it hotter if I had the opportunity. Thank God there was no dangerous object in the room, I would have hurt him. He stood up, came close and began to struggle to have his way with me. He tore my dress in the process, but he couldn’t pull the jean knickers I wore underneath. I gathered all my strength to fight him that night. When he was tired and it was clear he couldn’t have his way, he gave up.

“Mercy, I am now your husband and I would be paying your bride price in a couple of days. Denying me sex is uncalled for. Haven’t you read 1 Corinthians 7:5? It says: ‘Defraud ye not one the other, except it be with consent for a time, that ye may give yourselves to fasting and prayer; and come together again, that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency’.”

When he left my room, I began to nurse the thoughts of exposing him. This is a man who is seen as a super pastor in the city. Our G.O believed so much in him without knowing who he really was. Why it took so long for God to expose him is what I don’t know. How can a man who calls himself a pastor be this heartless and cruel? Are those testimonies about how God used him to bless members of the church false? I will never forget Mrs Bode’s testimony which turned the church right on. Deji was said to have prayed for her son who had been insane for seven years, and he was healed instantly. She came to church to testify and I witnessed it. What about the numerous healings, deliverances and other outstanding miracles wrought by Deji? I don’t understand this God anymore.

He stopped talking to me because of what happened that night. I didn’t mind him since seeing him irritated me a lot. I had enough money in my account, so I didn’t need him. My mother’s burial was getting closer and I noticed all the arrangements Deji’s family made, even though they didn’t involve me nor consult me about anything. I wasn’t bothered because it was their sole responsibility to bury my mother. What was giving me concern, however, was the fact that my traditional wedding was on the same day as my mother’s burial. A secret and forceful marriage to a man I don’t love; a double faced, cruel and wicked man. The man that impregnated my best friend five times and sent her into exile is about to become my husband. What would I tell Stella if we eventually meet again? If I expose him, he is sure to lose his job as a pastor. The church will scatter and many souls will be lost to the kingdom of darkness.

We left Kabba on Thursday morning for Gboko. My mother’s wake keep was to hold on the eve of her burial and my traditional wedding. Throughout the journey I didn’t talk to anyone because my heart was heavy. I wished this cup could pass over me. Why can’t we just have an accident so I can die? How would I face my father and siblings? Who will be on my side? As we got closer to Gboko, my thoughts choked me the more. I was restless and bitter, but I had to give this last respect to my mother who died for me. We arrived at Gboko at about 7pm, and all arrangements were set for the burial and traditional wedding.

(Story copied from another source)

To be continued in part eleven…