My mother was gone.

Fafa Brese. Better known as Little Daavi.

Gone.

Dead. No longer alive.

All because of me and my evil ways.

It was obvious, wasn’t it? It was because of me that she was running around, from one side of town to another just to see if someone could help me get out of that hellhole. It was because I was a senseless degenerate who saw more purpose in being a threat to the security and safety of society that she found herself moving up and down to try and get me out of trouble, when she should have been reaping the fruits of her labour.

From the moment I received that news, there was this emptiness that suddenly fitted itself in my heart. It was like a nothingness in my spirit. A huge vacuum that had just been opened up and couldn’t be closed even if I did my best to.

To say that I felt awful would be nothing short of an understatement. I was ashamed, stupefied, heartbroken… I felt more than terrible.

I became a different person from that day onward. It wasn’t like I was a cheery, chirpy human being behind cells; there’s nothing bright and bubbly about that place, anyway. But I guess I appeared to anyone else as normal at the time.

Now I was a moody, gloomy soul. Walking through the prisons, that sense of nothingness taking total charge of my emotions. I was an absolute shell of a human being.

Day after day, my mother’s death weighed on me like an immovable boulder, gnawing at my conscience and leaving me hollow and desolate inside. I constantly replayed our last conversation in my mind, wishing I had listened to her words of wisdom back in the days to stay away from Castro and Emma. At every single moment, I found myself just yearning for a chance to turn back time and spare her from the pain I inadvertently caused.

Oh, how I wished I could turn back time! I’d have given anything to do that. Anything!

Speaking of Castro and Emma, you probably might be wondering what happened with them.

Well, they were in the same prison as I was, and for a while, we were still moving together. For two weeks, to be precise. Once I decided I didn’t want to stay any longer, though, I distanced myself slightly while trying to get help from my mother. Once she died, though, I broke away from them completely.

They weren’t very happy with that, and seeing how gloomy and downtrodden I was most of the time, they constantly kept asking what was wrong, only to be met with blank looks and silence.

Eventually, after continuous prodding, I did tell them what was wrong. That I had been informed that my mother was dead.

And boy, I immediately wished I hadn’t.

“Oh, massa, that be why you make dull like that? Massa, forget am!”

“Massa, this no be matter you dey make mɔbɔ for top oo! Hoh!”

Just imagine that! The utter apathy and dismissiveness of their words! My mother had passed away, and these dudes acted like I was mourning a pet spider! The absolute audacity!

I snapped.

I lunged at them, throwing hands and snarling furiously as I tried to hurt them as much as I could. “Fools! If it wasn’t for you bastards, my mother would still be here!”

We all know I was the real one to blame, don’t we? But I was seeing red in that moment, so yeah…

It was quite an ugly scuffle. Castro and Emma were some pretty muscular guys, so struggling to overcome them was not that easy.

In fact, it was impossible. Obviously. I was trying to beat two guys by myself, and considering I’m not exactly a Jackie Chan or a Jean-Claude Van Damme, I was destined to lose that fight.

If not for the prison guards that came to separate us and drag me off to an isolation room, I’m pretty sure they would ripped out my organs. They overpowered me with their blows and kicks, and were just about ready to stomp all over me before the guards intervened and pulled us apart.

It was from that day onward that any semblance of a relationship between me and them was officially extinguished.

The prison guards might have saved me from a ferocious beatdown at their hands. But once they placed me in isolation, they led me to an even more vicious attack.

An attack on my mind.

As already stated, I was a mental mess from the moment I received the news of her death, and at every moment, I was weighed down by the guilt of it all. But I felt all that while I was in the midst of many others. I never really processed the guilt and the grief to the fullest while in open cells. It wouldn’t have been possible, considering I had to deal with awful body odours, stale air, lying on someone’s ankle or back… all of that stuff.

In isolation, I was forced to really come face-to-face with it all.

And dear Lord, it was awful!

The haunting memories of my mother’s last words relentlessly gnawing at my psyche. Voices in my head screaming at me and calling me a terrible person for being so evil. The overwhelming yet impossible desire to rewind the clock and undo everything I ever did with those boys. Regret that I let my bitterness turn me into such a horrid person who unleashed his fury on innocent human beings.

The sheer, utter helplessness of it all.

Oh, I wept! How loudly and bitterly I wept!

I screamed. I wailed. I yelled at myself as the torment of the guilt and grief stabbed relentlessly at me. Crying uncontrollably as I knew without a doubt that I was a monster, and I didn’t deserve anything good. That this incarceration was less than I deserved, and I was unworthy of any kind of grace.

It didn’t matter how often the guards told me to be silent, I just couldn’t. The mental torture was too much for me to be quiet. At a point, I think they just gave up on me and let me be.

By the time I was released from that isolation cell, I looked even worse.

Anyone who saw me could see the face of a tormented soul, devoid of any tint of happiness or even a sense of normalcy. I was a slave to my inner demons, and there was not a hope in hell, heaven or earth for a degenerate like myself.

It was perfectly right and good that I end up burning in eternal flames forever and ever. No two doubts about that.

I honestly can’t remember how long I dwelt in that state of mind. All I remember is that it was a long time, and everyone actively avoided me for a while. Nobody wanted to cross the path of this walking skeleton.

Then, news went round that this church was planning to hold a crusade in the prisons. Most of the inmates scoffed at it, claiming the pastor was so hungry for money, he was stooping low to seek money from broke prisoners. Others thought it was nothing but useless hogwash he was going to rant. Some others, though, seemed pretty excited and enthusiastic about this program, and couldn’t wait to see the pastor in question.

For me, I wasn’t really bothered. In my mind, nothing this pastor would say or proclaim would make any difference. No religion could save a hopeless reprobate like me. I was way beyond any kind of redemption or salvation.

Besides, it wasn’t like they were gonna say anything special. As far as I was concerned, most of the churches only preached about prosperity and getting rich and all that. That was the last thing on my mind, obviously. What good would having all the money in the world do for me at this stage, because it sure wasn’t gonna give me any kind of happiness.

Well, as the day arrived, I saw the chairs and canopies being arranged in the morning. I heard as some of my fellow inmates continued to mock whoever the planners of this crusade.

There were these two inmates, however, who were part of the group of ‘excited and enthusiastic’ guys, whose conversation I happened to overhear.

“So you said this pastor is called what again?”

“Tsedeq Basare.”

“Tsedeq? Ei, which kind name too be that?”

“Ibi ein ministry name. Apparently, ein real name be Melchizedek Basare, but he adopted the name Tsedeq because ibi Hebrew word for righteousness or so. Wey that be the main focus for ein messages all. Righteousness, holiness, purity, forgiveness, that sort of thing. Wey he dey preach with serious passion and power.”

“I see. Interesting.”

I shook my head as I heard that. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t for me. Once I heard forgiveness, I knew that wasn’t meant for me. I was too far gone for that.

Evening approached, and the place was nicely set. Those interested in attending the crusade made their way there, while the mockers and scoffers stayed away. From my corner, I had my heart set on staying away. There was no way I was going to listen to anything that pastor with a strange name had to say, when I had no business partaking in whatever his message would be.

And yet… this weird urge inside me. It suddenly rose up, with this tiny voice almost whispering to me.

“Go for that crusade.”

What? This had to be a joke. What was I going to do there? I had no business there. There was no reason whatsoever to go. None. Zero. Zilch.

That was what I defiantly insisted in response to that voice.

But did it quench the sudden urge? Not at all.

As I fiercely resisted it, it bounced back with a stronger conviction.

“Join the crusade… go on, join them…”

I fought back as hard as I could. While the singing went on at the crusade grounds, the urge remained as strong as ever, and I continued to try and push back as much as I could.

But before I knew it, I was seated in one of the chairs at the crusade grounds.

Yeah, the Holy Spirit was not about to let me get away on this one. Not at all.

“Dear brothers, it’s time to hear the word of God. And delivering it to us this evening is none other than the founder of Greater Light Ministries. A man of God who has dedicated his life to exhorting the children of God to live holy and righteous lives, and to calling the lost sheep back to the fold. He is a man passionate about prayer and preaching the pure and unadulterated word of God. Please help me welcome to the stage, Pastor Tsedeq Basare!”

As I saw a skinny, light-skinned gentleman mount the stage holding a big Bible, I could feel a strange breeze blow over me. I couldn’t understand where it was coming from. And I couldn’t understand why I suddenly had this soaring wave of expectation in my bosom.

Oh, little did I know that this was God’s divine orchestration for a major miracle in my life…

Looks like this is where the happy ending starts. Let’s see it out…