In The Line of Fire II


Hello peoples, this is a new week, and our story for the month continues. You know the drill don’t you. Read. Learn.and Share. If you’re not following this blog, find the follow button. Don’t forget to drop your comments as well. I find the ladies commenting more on the theme of the story while many the men choose to commend the story. Let’s keep the discourse going. Enjoy!

“Alero. Look me in the eyes and tell me you will not be getting married to Kenneth.” Elizabeth could not believe her eyes as she looked round her childhood friend’s apartment. It was furnished with expensive state of the art electronics and furniture; all paid for by the architect her friend was planning on getting married to within two months.
“My dear, Kenneth is history.” Alero looked away from her friend’s prying eyes. She was tired of explaining to everyone that she had broken up with Kenneth and was now with another man who gives her heaven on earth.
“Are you sure you have made the right decision? I just feel somewhere within me that something is not right here.” Elizabeth expressed her concerns over the quality of Alero’s decision. She listened carefully to the love story of how her friend met her latest fiancé. He was an usher in her church, and she met him during one of the weekly workers’ trainings on a Saturday in December. He was very soft spoken, and humble. At first sight, his quiet demeanor could be confused for pride, but with a little closeness she realized he was very down to earth, and extremely nice. She fell in love with him after two weeks of persistent calls at her office, and when he told her the story of how he rose from an unemployed graduate to picking up a design-contract with his alma mata, University of Abuja, and how he used the income he earned from the project to set up his architectural firm, which has blossomed beyond his imagination.
“He was quick to follow me to Ikare to be introduced to my mom.” She sounded confident. “Besides Pastor really loves him, and approves of our relationship.”
“Your Pastor’s approval does not mean God’s approval.” Elizabeth was ready to go for Alero’s jugular on the matter. “What exactly did God say to you? Can you say your mind is free of any debates concerning your decision to marry him?”
“Elizabeth, I would have none of this. Can’t a sister make a decision without being asked questions? Are you going to join the people saying I love him because of his money? Hell no! I’m not gonna give you that chance. I love Kunle. Kunle loves me. Pastor loves us together, and that should be all for now!”
Alero stormed out of the sitting room in annoyance and slammed the door to her room behind her. Suddenly, she realized she could not stand up to the pervading questions of her friends. Searching deep inside her became more and more difficult by the day; and she wondered if she had the spunk to walk out of the relationship with Kunle, after all the gifts he had showered on her. Besides, KK was such a nice guy who deserved no other woman, but a woman like her who would help him set the legal back bone behind the business empire he was building. She slept that night avoiding the soul searching mission that pervaded her mind. As Elizabeth’s questions echoed through her mind, she felt like she was being cross-examined in a court room as a witness in a case of a heist that rocked the country. A scripture she used to love echoed through the four walls of her room throughout the night “A man that is often reproved, and yet stiffens his neck will suddenly be broken beyond repair.” What was she doing wrong? How was she to know if she was wrong? All these questions were drowned in the early morning bustle of Lagos traffic the next morning. That evening, she went with Kunle to see their wedding planner. She also filled her visa application form, and gave him her passport for the processing of her visa.

Sixty-five year old Moremi Falope alighted from behind her chauffeur driven Mercedes Benz 230E as her driver pulled over in the compound of The Pentecost Church in Lagos. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and she had made up her mind to stop at nothing until she had a word with her daughter’s Pastor. The graveness of the matter at hand made her numb to the fatigue that had set in on her frail body after the four hour journey from Ikare. Spotted in expensive red lace attire from Switzerland, and red Italian slippers, she sat in Pastor John’s reception waiting to be ushered in by his secretary.
On entering his office few minutes later, she wasted little time exchanging pleasantries. She spoke with the urgency of a market woman selling to her first customer on a Monday morning. It is called Monday market, and it is taken with all seriousness since it is believed that Monday sales will set the tone for the rest of the week.
“Pastor John, my daughter tells me that she has your blessings concerning her decision to marry that boy called Kunle”. Her voice was taut.
“I do not understand you ma.” Pastor John Ajayi looked rather bewildered.
“Alero Falope says you have endorsed her marriage to Kunle Davids. And that is the reason she will not listen to me, her mother.” Moremi shouted at the top of her voice.
Pastor Ajayi explained to his guest that the two consenting adults are workers in his church, and he believed they have been well brought up in the things of the Lord and therefore there ought to be no reason to stop their marriage. He also told her that they were going through the mandatory counseling sessions.
“If I may ask, who did you consult before endorsing this marriage? God? Man? A deity? Pastor, my spirit is not in alignment with the marriage and my daughter will not listen to me. In our days our parents consulted various oracles to confirm that our unions will be successful. Have you spoken with God on behalf of my daughter?” Mrs Falope asked frantically. She was not sure what she expected the Pastor to do, but she was in Lagos to ask Pastor Ajayi to talk to her daughter to have a change of heart because an alarm bell had been ringing in her head since the day she met with Kunle. The discussion ended with an agreement that Pastor Ajayi was going to call her later in the week after he must have spoken with the couple advising them to dissolve their relationship. The Pastor never called her, and she headed to the mountains of Ekiti praying that her daughter will not fall into the hands of the wrong man.
The discussion generated several days of deep introspection for Pastor Adams. He had several questions on his mind that weighed down on his conscience, and he did not have satisfactory answers. He couldn’t explain how he endorsed the relationship between Sister Alero and Brother Kunle. He wondered if his acquiescence was a way of keeping both of them happy, thereby reducing the rate at which his church bled of rich members, or it was a genuine deep knowledge of two souls meant to be together. He refused to answer the questions as he reminded himself that the couple had been introduced to the church, and the date of their wedding had also been announced. He could only ask God to forgive his errors as he was only a man, in the flesh.
Kunle Davids was a master crafts man, hence his nickname KunleKraft. His acquaintances think his name is derived from his architectural firm of five years, Kraft Architecture. His cronies knew better; KK as they preferred to call him had an unusual ability to plan, organize, and administer resources to a state of near perfection. Many of his friends owed much of their financial success to his deft skills. He stood noticeably six-feet two inches tall, bare-chested before the dressing mirror in his room exchanging banters with his best friend, Michael.
“Mike it’s time we exit. I have a premonition things will go wrong pretty soon”. Kunle splashed some body mist on the upper part of his body. Michael stared at the wall clock in the room, and he knew better than not to take his friend and mentor seriously. It was a few minutes past 7a.m. on a Saturday morning in May, and KK usually discussed grave matters early on Saturday mornings.
“What’s your proposition?”
Mike knew his question was coming a little late and so it was clearly unintelligent. The writing had been on the wall for over six months. First of all, KK started dutifully attending a Pentecostal church on Lagos Island and had also joined the work force after going through the mandatory three months training. He joined the ushering team, and got committed to serving God in that capacity. The other pointer to an imminent change in KK’s lifestyle was his sudden dedication to one woman he met late December. He rented her an apartment in Gbagada , and introduced her to all his friends as his fiancée.
“I want out, and I’m checking out! I have made enough to start a life. I can increase what I have through Kraft Architecture. Posi will be joining me as a building engineer.” Kunle said as he picked up two dumbbells from under his bed.
Mike walked over to the window of the room that overlooked the beautiful scenery of a vast portion of the Lagos lagoon. The strange pattern of the water ripples seemed to allow his mind contort all manner of hateful thoughts in his mind. He felt betrayed, he felt left out of KK’s plans. Loneliness enveloped his heart especially as he never had plans to stop the trade. His heart became heavy as he thought of KK asking Posi to join him on board of the architectural firm that was the brain child of the trio.
“So I am supposed to handle the scoundrels and hounds in the trade all by myself. I don’t even have the capacity to handle all the stages.” Mike spoke to himself wondering what next to do with his life.
“By the way Mike, Alero and I will be getting married in July.” KK said under heavy breath from weight lifting.
“Good to hear man. We are the groomsmen. We will tell your story on that day.” Mike did a good job concealing his discontentment that morning as KK narrated his plans for the next two months, and how he planned to travel with Alero to go shopping in Dubai, enroute the United States. He tried severally to suggest things he could do if he was going to cash out of the trade as well, but KK seemed interested in his master plan. It was at that moment he hatched a plan to surprise the master of the game. KK increased the volume of his mini entertainment system as he listened to Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car”. Mike shook his head to the acoustic rhythm of the music, but his mind was on a twist that would change their lives forever, and perhaps reveal the invincibility of his long time buddy.

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7 thoughts on “In The Line of Fire II

  1. Pingback: In The Line of Fire II – The Passion Chronicles

  2. Pingback: In The Line of Fire II | cutewinnieekhaisomi

  3. Kai
    Do I have to wait another week to see how this ends?
    See cliffhangar oooooooooo
    Not fair!!! I want to read the whole story and I wanna read it NOW!!!
    *sulking*
    😥

    Like

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