Blood Sucking Demons | Church Chronicles 3

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Blood sucking demons

Mosquitoes, lice, and bed bugs, you hate them all.

Yesterday, you swatted an overly excited anopheles with your bare hands, but it danced out of your grasp, singing the same annoying song you didn’t want to hear. You clapped for it, hoping that the performance would end, but she went ahead to bring her friends to join in. So, you decided to spray the chemical that would kill them.

You are not supposed to have lice on your scalp because you’re a man, or you will be –you still live with your parents. But you once had lice as a boy. And you cried, scratching the little things with teeny-weeny arms and legs out of your hair.

You don’t want to talk about the bedbugs. Those who’ve had them invade their houses would tell you that it’s one hellish experience, cos the flat insects reproduce like the stars God showed to Abraham.

Turning on the bed for the fifth time before daybreak, you wonder if you should manage to get to church that morning or fumigate your room to get rid of those little things buzzing the wirin wirin yion yion sounds in your ears. They didn’t all die yesterday.

Church calls out to you, but you’ve been out of it for a while. So you don’t want to ‘show face’ there. In the past week, you thought of things that won’t happen. Your body might be in Ibadan, but your mind had wandered ten thousand miles in circles. And your parents wondered, voicing out their worries. “Why is your body hot? Oh, is it a fever? Why is your fever this severe? Don’t tell me you want high blood pressure at this age.”

Your heart is heaving, and you’re wondering why you opened it to the person who hurt you. The poor love-shaped organ now has to pump precious blood into a sick body with a weary soul.

Well… Blood-sucking demons? Really?

Last time at church, the sermon was about forgiveness. From where you sat, you watched the person you refused to forgive laugh with another person, and you prayed silently that the person realized that he was potential prey. Well, maybe the person would not be vulnerable enough to be manipulated. Maybe, the person was already as wise as a serpent and did not lose guard just because he was in a church.

You read a book and stumble on a chapter on when people wrong you. You wonder why the writer did not support you. You are angry because she did not understand your situation, yet she was asking you to forgive. You hoped she’d say the person was wrong and not you. But you walk away from the book, wondering why you picked it up in the first place.

The person you have refused to forgive did not ask for forgiveness. You think. The person has argued that you just felt the way you felt and that there was nothing to it. Yet, you knew that a discussion on how a human felt should never end in an argument.

So, the person did not need to ask for forgiveness and was probably chilling and enjoying his life while yours was miserable. Your heart goes bop like a burst tire when you see him. You have every right to start hating on him. And you have.

But that adds you to the chain of hurting people that hurt others.

You have allowed uncontrollable emotions of unforgiveness, malice and stuff to flourish in your heart.

As time ticked on, you would release the blood-sucking demons you allowed into your life. You would be glad you did not allow them to suck you dry to the bones before letting them go. You would still go to church, and if all is good, that once-upon-a-human you refused to forgive would still be there. He could even smile up at you, and you would smile back.

The only difference would be that you learnt to love yourself first so you can love others. You’ve allowed joy and are enjoying the fruit of the spirit. You even cut yourself off the chain of hurt.

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Word bank

Wirin wirin, yion yion: That’s the song I hear mosquitoes singing. I just don’t know which of the wirin or yion they sing before or after sucking blood.

Author: Oluwabukola Olabode

Olabode Oluwabukola Ruth is a budding multi-genre Nigerian writer and digital creator. She loves nature and is therefore studying botany at the University of Ibadan. Being an avid reader that loves books that tell beyond normal stories, she loves to see people own and tell their own stories and thus, inspires people to tell theirs via her blog, heartychristianstories.com. One of her works has appeared on Pencillite, a recent one on Writers Space Africa, and elsewhere.

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