MYSTERIOUS WAYS

PART II

        Read and be blessed

  

     The surroundings of the house held a large number of people, the sitting room was full to the brim and every corner of it was stocked with men who had come from every part of the fatherland, to pay their last respect to the dead hero whose good deed and generosity had exceeded the boundaries of the village. His death had triggered beautiful memories of him and love, that had been buried by heaps of daily worries. Men sat, shaking their heads in grieve with their hands folded across their breast. The women wailed in loud voices, invoking names of sculptured gods who sat in traditional shrines back in their various houses. Despite being warned severally that only the ways of the Lord God was accepted in that house, and that no fetish sayings were permitted there, the crowd still made an attempt to bring in men dressed in traditional masks and attire nitted by skillful hand. They danced at every funeral in honour of their gods and often worked alongside  traditional doctors who carried out incantation and traditional rites. But Hanna had stood firmly on her Christian beliefs and faith and subdued the idea with much prayer and few words.
               Grieve was a close neighbour to her and death a friend. Since her infance, it had lurked around her family snatching away dearly loved relative, but each time it came, she realised she never was accustomed to the dark  pain it left behind.Grieve had eaten away her strength and left her inside in shambles. Her salty tears continuously bath her pale brown cheeks. Her eyes were fixed on the door to the room which held the remains of her dear brother, who was covered in herbs and under a white cloth.Her mind wandered far away to the  memories of the beloved and it was then that the messenger's voice whispered to her ear in broken English, fanning it with his warm breathe.
            " Master dan cam, him dere road di approach house,"at his words, she bolted out the door towards the approaching figure. She threw herself on him in a fierce embrace and drew comfort crying on his shoulders. Both shared each others grieve and mingled their tears together.
                "Brother, if you had been there, he wouldn't have died," she said amidst sobs. "He would have lived."
                 "Cry no more my dear sister, cry no more." He said rubbing her back and  soothing her pain with comforting words, "Where is he?" The prophet asked.
                 Being without words, she pointed at the window of the room her brother laid in. He walked away in haste, following her finger. Hanna was at his heels, following closely. The crowd stepped aside as the prophet made his way silently to the depicted room. The wailing  and chatter ceased and every eye tried to read information from the scene. Opening the door, he took certain steps in. He threw his eyes at once on the bed.  A tear escaped his eye and his shoulders slumped . He covered his face with his right hand and  motioned for Hanna to wait outside. She nodded and walked out closing the door. Her feets barely carried  her. The crowd watched closely and whispered amongst themselves. They were left in suspense and eagerly waited to be informed on current happening. Hanna rather hung her head  and how she managed to find the couch, she could not tell. Her mind was clouded and her eyes misty again.
            Inside the room, the prophet knelt down before the bed. He kept his bag on the earthen floor and proceeded to pray silently. After a while, he looked heavenward. He said, " Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you will always hear me," he stood to his feet, looked at the body and with great authority said," Brother! Rise up!"
           Before their minds could register what their eyes saw, the crowd dashed out of the house.  Young Men  squeezed themselves out of the door in  swift movements. The older men  were revitalized by fear and pushed themselves out amidst the struggle. There was a stampede, none that ever been seen even by the oldest men in the set. The women were not left out. The shrieked and screamed trying to find a way out of the room. Some skipped through the window and others begged the men to let them pass. But as it was, everyone thought only of their lives. No man remembered his family, he remembered only that which he wore, his skin. The stampede was so terrible, people were trampled upon, yet they ignored the pain. What ever the case, they all ran out of that land and some out of the village. Only few stood at a considerable distance including Hannah.
                 Men  were seated in groups to be entertained with stories of the death man before the incident where all had rushed out. They sighed and shook their heads in pity. They muttered curses on whosoever had caused his death. If only Hannah had let them have their way, they would have called on a well known diviner who would have meted the right amount of vengeance on the hidden culprit. They believed some one was behind the death and would have it no other way. When a creak was heard from a door, all head snapped towards the noise and a walking shadow was seen. The prophet stood behind it, beaming. Acting on their  reflexes, they took to their heels. Even Hannah had taken the road that led to the back door fleeing without taking a second look. Many sickness were cured and pain forgotten in the quest to get away.
         "Brothers it is I, wait! do not runaway, the Lord has revived me,"he stretched out his hand beckoning the people around. People only stood far and watched in awe and amazement. Courageous men came forward with cautious steps but not close enough. They wanted to confirm their insanity. His sister came forward, taking slow steps. She stretched out her hand, her face pale and breath heavy. When she was close enough, she touched his cheek as if to assure herself.
           "My sister fear not, I live. The Lord has been good to me. He breath life on me once more and I am stronger and healthy."
               She heard his word as if in a trance. Everything seemed to her unreal and she felt it was a dream. With two hands, she examined him, checked his hands and head. She touched his cheek and when she had built enough assurance, she flew onto him crying and sobbing with unexplainable joy.
           "He lives! he lives! The Lord is good," she shouted  and turned to the others, " Come close and see for yourself. He is very much alive," she invited. With this, others drew near one after the other and confirmed it. They were struck and  left speechless.  They recovered themselves and sang praises in loud voices to the true God, maker of heaven and earth. The noice of rejoicing drew the other from as far as the hills to the scene. All came, seeing and confirming. They bowed down in worship to their God, for her brother who was once death but was brought to Life
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