“Great is Your mercy towards me/Your lovingkindness towards me/ Your tender mercies I see day after day…”

Sika’s sweet voice singing one of her personal favourites was the delightful sound upon David’s ears as he sat at the dining table, busy at work.

It was Thursday, and as was the usual practice in the house, Sika was the one taking the kids to school and heading for work while he remained at home for the day. He usually spent Thursdays by himself, getting freelance work done before spending an extended amount of time in studying the Bible.

Humming along to the song his wife sang, he looked up as the children walked over to him, indicating they were ready for his prayer over them before they left. “Ready to move?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” they replied obediently.

“Alright. Sika! We’re waiting for you ooo!”

“Coming, coming,” she called before appearing a few seconds later and joining them.

“Okay, join hands… Heavenly Father, thank You for this marvelous day. It is a day You have given unto us, and we will be glad and rejoice in it. Father, I commit my wife and children into Your hands this day. As they step out, Lord, may angels keep watch over them and encamp around them. Let every crafty enterprise of the enemy set against them be aborted right now in the name of Jesus! May Your presence be a wall of fire around them. Be their Helper in all that they do, that at the end of the day, glory and honour will be Yours. In the name of Jesus I pray. Amen!”

“Amen!”

“Alright, so have a wonderful day! I’ll see you later in the afternoon,” David mentioned, waving to the kids as they shuffled out of the dining room and out the front door.

“So Dave, I’ve taken the groundnut soup out of the freezer, and the kokonte powder is there. Everything is set for you when you’re ready to make some food for yourself, okay?” Sika informed him while grabbing her bag.

David gave her an OK sign with his right hand, plus a smile, and she flashed him what he termed her ‘million-dollar smile’ before blowing him a kiss and walking out the door.

The house now silent, David sat still, deep in thought.

The offer was still on his mind. Since Tuesday evening, all throughout Wednesday to that point, even while he preached during the midweek service, he was still thinking long and hard about this matter for a while now, and it was odd how his perspective was suddenly shifting. With each passing hour, rejecting that offer from Roger Wakefield seemed more and more ridiculous. This was not just any amount of money, this was life-changing money. Money that would absolutely turn his life around, and not just in a selfish way.

I mean, when you think about it, Mr. Wakefield has a point. Most of these politicians in power won’t listen. They just won’t. I’ll continue barking out these warnings and they’ll just scoff at it and continue to milk the state dry, he reasoned to himself, zoning out on the work he was supposed to be doing. Now that I really reflect on it, it feels like I’m just blasting them for nothing. They just won’t change. So why don’t I just… focus on the other important things. If I have that much, the orphans will be able to live happily, the recovering addicts will get the help they need… at least, it’ll make an impact. And that’s what I live for: making an impact.

Besides, having that money also means another thing: I can do a lot for my precious wife.

David smiled as the image of her million-dollar smile jumped to the forefront of his mind. “Sika Aniagyei Mensah-Jones. What a woman!” he proclaimed. “God’s sweetest gift on earth to me, for sure.”

It had been fourteen years when he, as a passionate executive of his university’s Scripture Union chapter, spotted her among the attendees of one program they held. Instantly spellbound by her charming beauty and apparent passion for the things of God, he wasted no time tracking her down right after the service and befriending her. Thanks to his good looks, deep love for God, and the fact that he was very much unlike the typical ‘ogyacious’ Christian brother on campus who acted like the word ‘powerful’ was a better spiritual alternative for ‘beautiful’, it didn’t take long for Sika to fall for him.

Two years later, they got married in a simple but beautiful ceremony and had spent the last twelve years doing life together, including starting Reverence Ministries and raising their three lovely children together. As happy as he was, though, there was the occasional wish that he could do more for her. It wasn’t like they were struggling in life or anything, it was just… the little he did for her often felt way less than she actually deserved.

Sometimes, he would just sit back and reflect on all she had been through during the subsistence of their marriage, particularly the periods of pregnancy. Going through those nine months of strain on her body and emotions thrice, having to endure so much pain in labour, especially with Mark’s birth…

… and she came out as strong as before, making sure their home was in order. Being a world-class wife and mother.

He would often mention it during counselling sessions with new couples and in relationship sermons, how she was a superwoman in his eyes. But despite the awwws and ‘romantic osofo’ cheers that followed that statement, he sometimes doubted anyone, including Sika herself, understood just how highly he esteemed her.

I love that woman so much. I really do.

Surely this could be used to give her the queenly treatment she deserved? He always told the young men in his church that there was no greater gift God could give them than a good woman as a wife, and that once they had such a woman, they were to cherish her. He had it: a virtuous, beautiful, generous, amazing and stunning woman. And he could feel it was time to get this backing to fully cherish her.

And yes, as he had already mentally mentioned, that money would definitely go a long way to help the church, orphanage, and the rehab center. The last thing he needed was for any of them to run into a crisis of any sort.

Maybe… just maybe… I should…

***

“Yes, yes, it’s the truth! Mr. Eghan, it’s the truth. There’s nothing wrong with His Excellency coming to the defence of Mr. Baiden, and I think it’s disingenuous to suggest that mere speculations and assumptions by a group of so-called investigative journalists should force his hand to make certain decisions. Besides, we can all agree that he never said that the relevant authorities should just let him go, no? Didn’t His Excellency say that they should launch proper investigations into the matter?” 

Seated in front of his laptop in his study, Roger Wakefield was busily engaging in a spirited defence of the president’s recent statements concerning the embattled Cabinet member. As expected in a political atmosphere as sensitive and polarizing as the Ghanaian one, the said comment had drawn mixed reactions from the public. While some loyal supporters of the government happily rallied behind the President’s stance, many citizens had vehemently expressed disappointment and frustration with what they perceived as a lack of accountability from the highest echelons of power.

Of course, those backing the actions of the nation’s first gentleman were swift to make their voices heard, and Roger was one of them. Interacting with one TV host through Zoom, he passionately argued that the criticisms of the president were unfounded and that the allegations against the Cabinet member would most likely be proven to be false. The host did not seem impressed by Roger’s line of argument, but the newspaper owner was far from intimidated by his disposition.

While he argued, from the corner of his eye, he noticed his phone screen briefly light up, with a caller ID on, then it suddenly went off. Once he was done answering what ended up being the last question, he reached for the phone and checked.

It was Reverend David Mensah-Jones who called. Or tried calling, to be more accurate.

His eyes widened. “Oh wow. I definitely wasn’t expecting it to be that quick,” he uttered, calling back the cleric.

On the fourth ring, he picked up. “Uh… hello?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Mensah-Jones. I see you tried calling a few minutes ago. Any good news for me?”

“Uh, no, no, I was… I was trying to- I was calling someone else. S-s-sorry. Sorry for the mistake.”

Roger lifted an eyebrow.

That certainly didn’t sound like the David Mensah-Jones he had spoken to on Sunday. That version would not stutter like this. Was he… was he lying?

The slightly puzzled look on his face then shifted into a look of pleasure. Hmmmm. Sounds like he’s folding after all! Just doesn’t wanna bend over just yet. Lemme just go at him a bit…

“Mmm, I see. Well, no worries about that. About the offer, though, I hope you’re considering it. After all, we have a few days more, and I’d hate to come over and not get a definite answer from you,” Roger purred slyly into the phone.

A few seconds of hesitant silence followed. Then, “You’ll hear from me at the appropriate time, sir. Thank you.”

The line went dead.

Roger laughed triumphantly and clapped his hands. “There we go!” he gloated. “The man who was yelling at me as if nothing could buy him out isn’t so tough now, is he? I said it. Every man has a price. You just need to find out what it is.”

Closing his laptop, he got up from his seat to get himself a drink. “Shouldn’t be long now until I get that pastor’s mouth sealed up nicely,” he congratulated himself.

***

“Mmmm. So we need to get them some new sports shoes?”

“Yeah. Seems like Matthew’s feet have gotten bigger since the last time we bought his own, which was like five months ago. Hmmm, these young ones are already growing faster than we expect. Dave, it’s serious oo!”

David grinned, face turned toward his wife as they both sat up in bed. “Oh, my dear, say it again. Wasn’t it like just yesterday that they were cute little babies and I was doing baby talk things with them?”

Sika laughed at the memory. “It was ooo. Every day, then they’ll be saying only God knows what, and you’ll be babbling along with them. Now you’re talking proper human talk with them. Time really flies.”

“Haha, it sure does.”

The two went silent for a moment. Then Sika reached out and touched her husband’s arm. “Well, we thank the Lord that He gave us the chance to spend all these years together.”

David smiled and held her hand. “Absolutely, Sika. Absolutely.”

Nodding her head, she then snuggled into bed properly, readying herself to sleep after a long day. As David prepared to do same, he looked at her face.

Her eyes were closed, and she looked so sweet.

He sighed within himself. A queen. An absolute queen. You deserve all the good things this life on earth can offer, and I’m gonna give it to you once I take up this offer, he mentally proclaimed.

Indeed, first thing the next morning, he was going to officially inform Mr. Wakefield that he would take it. Truth was, he had chickened out when he called the man earlier that afternoon. There was still that lingering thought that this was wrong and would not be the right option to take. By evening, though, he was more convinced than unsure.

It was better to take the offer.

At least I’ll go with the minimum. The last thing I want is to be extra greedy, he promised himself as he lifted the covers over his head and prepared to sleep.

Sigh. He’s folding. Man, this is not what we were hoping for…