“Who are you? Why are you here? Are you the one he sent to kill me?” Bimbo asked, teary-eyed.
“No, Bimbo.” The Holy Spirit sent me here. Even I don’t understand why I’m here.”
“The Holy Spirit? You are one of those religious people, aren’t you? Why would that Spirit send you here? The only person I’m expecting, except for Sandra, is my stepfather, or someone sent by him. Don’t you have any clue as to why he’d ask you to be here especially on a day that seems to be my last?”
“Last day? Your stepfather wants to kill you?” Femi asked, and Bimbo nodded.
“For rituals I suppose?” she responded.
Femi shook his head. Her words were incoherent.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I was not meant to know what he did in his room by 3 am. I did, and I’m suffering the consequences. He took me to his shrine the next day, on the pretence that he had a surprise for me. Mum agreed, knowing that he did that often.” Bimbo wiped off the sweat on her brow and continued with defiance. She looked like she had given up on life.
Femi shook his head. Where he came from, rituals were not a new thing. But her recount was ringing familiar bells in his head. Besides, he had not expected a story.
“He had me taken to a ritual hideout and threatened that I’d be used as a sacrifice if I didn’t obey his directives. I was asked to pound a newborn baby in a mortar,” her voice shook as talked. She sniffed and continued. “I remember peeing on my body -the butchering attendants laughed at me when I did that. I can’t seem to shut out that scene, it follows me everywhere. What makes me so sad, is that I was there when the mother of the baby was pushing to have this child. So, with the blood still on the baby and the umbilical cord still attached to it..” Bimbo cried harder this time. Femi just stood at the entrance, not knowing what to do.
“I was glad to see a baby born in my presence for the first time. But I was shocked when step-daddy placed the bloody child in my arms, rolled the mortar to me and asked me to drop the baby inside.” Bimbo blew her nose into her shirt, as she was too tired to look for any handkerchief.
“I’m going to have to call your friend now. Please hand over your phone,” Femi demanded after realizing how indisposed she was. Bimbo pointed at the table.
Femi checked the table for the phone and found it. Beside it was the music box that had made noise for a full week. But like its owner, it looked indisposed too.
“Your music box?” Femi asked.
“I smashed it on the floor when he sent me the latest picture.”
“What pictures?”
“Check my picture gallery. You’ll find a folder named “Step-daddy.”
Femi covered his mouth in disgust and surprise at the pictures. There were four pictures in the folder. One had a text written across it: it read “come home”.
“What’s with the one with “come home”?
“That’s the latest one he sent. Same picture, sent at different times. I left home three months ago and changed apartments two times. I stayed in his house for four years after the incident. Then, my mum died. I suspected him but couldn’t do anything about it. Then, my big sis died. I left home, knowing that I couldn’t keep my suspicion to myself any longer. Now he wants me to come back. That spells automatic doom. You can’t imagine what I go through every day I see these pictures. I can’t delete them because he says not to. I can’t defy him because my life is in his hands.”
“You can defy him. There’s a way to go about it though.”
“What way is that?” Bimbo asked eagerly, and she sat up on the floor.
“You die first then, he can’t kill you.”
Bimbo shook her head. “If I die now, what is my gain? I’ll still die anyway. But, if I die by his hands, there’s a probability that he will be punished for his sins.”
“How sure are you about that?”
“It’s like you don’t understand. The truth is, I pounded this baby because I was scared of what he might do to me if I didn’t but he got my picture while I was at it. He caught me while I tried to escape from the hideout and brought me back home, after making my thirteen-year-old self promise not to tell anyone. Remember that I ran from home; and, those three months away from home have been hell. He keeps telling me what to do, even though I’m not under his roof.”
“What’s the point exactly?” Femi asked.
“All I’m saying is that I deserve to die for pounding the baby, especially when there’s evidence. He also needs to be punished for making my life miserable. How is that going to happen if I don’t die by his hands?”
“How sure are you that your death will cause him to be punished?” Femi asked, arms crossed in front of him.
“There’s Sandra, my friend who knows about this. She’s likely to call the Police when I’m dead. And there’s you.”
“Me? Count me out. I don’t have the stamina for all that. Let’s just make you die the proper way.”
“And make my death go to waste, right?”
“Who says your death will go to waste? Do you think I’d allow my sister to die that way?”
“Sister?” Bimbo rolled her eyes. The guy was being delusional.
“That’s what the Holy Spirit told me before I entered your room. Just give your life to Jesus, and He’ll make you a new person. Your step daddy won’t be able to kill you because the person who pounded a baby is dead. Do you understand?”
“So, that’s what you’ve been trying to say,” Bimbo reasoned. “I’ve never heard the gospel preached to me this way.”
“That was the same way I got to know Jesus. I hated my father for leaving us. The hate spread to everything I did and I was miserable although, not as miserable as you are, so I had to die.” Femi explained briefly.
“If it’s going to work, then I’m ready.”
“Say the following words after me,” Femi asked and closed his eyes.
Bimbo did the same and waited patiently.
“Lord Jesus,”
“Lord Jesus,” Bimbo echoed. Then, a knock was heard at the door.
