The midday sun was high and unrelenting, but joy floated in the air like incense. Agrippa International Church had just concluded its vibrant Sunday service; one of those extended ones filled with dancing, fierce prayers and declarations, and unforgettable worship.

Congregants spilled out of the auditorium in clusters, their faces glowing as handshakes were exchanged, backs were patted, and hearty conversations were had.

Aaron and Phyllis, having completed one of those many conversations with a couple they knew well, walked side by side toward their car, looking every inch the picture-perfect couple. Aaron, dressed in a white kaftan, had his arm lightly draped around his wife’s waist, his smile polished and warm. Phyllis, looking gloriously stunning in her flowing green and gold dress, had a smile plastered on her face as she greeted people with soft nods and gentle words, soaking in the admiration they received.

Of course, she knew there was nothing to really admire about a marriage as emotionally draining as this. But hey, she had to endure the course, so she would do what was necessary to protect it and make things work.

A few feet away from their car, and a familiar figure to their eyes stepped into their path, a big smile on his face.

It was Amos, dressed in a simple navy blue kaftan, with a big Bible tucked under his arm.

“Daughter of Zion!” he called out, smiling as he approached them.

Phyllis lit up. “Man of God,” she responded, bowing slightly in reverence. “It’s good to see you again, sir.”

Amos beamed. “Indeed. I decided to visit today and just worship with you all. I just saw you and thought I’d say hello. Anyways, the Lord has not forgotten you. Have you walked in the instruction He gave you the last time?”

“Yes, Prophet,” she answered, her voice soft with emotion. “I’ve stayed. I’m… doing my best.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. The Lord will reward your obedience.” He nodded solemnly, then turned to Aaron. “Is this the man of God you’re blessed to call husband?”

“Yes,” Phyllis replied quickly.

Amos extended a hand. “Man of God, I greet you,” he said. “You have a wonderful woman as your wife. A true Proverbs 31 lady. You are blessed.”

Aaron took it, both men locking eyes with the faintest trace of amusement, perfectly masked behind solemn expressions.

“Bless you, Prophet,” Aaron responded with mock humility.

Amos glanced around, then motioned for them to hold hands. “If you don’t mind, let us pray. Just a moment.”

They complied, and Amos began to pray, soft, fervent tones spilling from his mouth.

“Father, we thank You for this union. We thank You for love, for unity… for divine purpose…”

Suddenly, he paused mid-sentence and went silent. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment longer than normal. A small, barely audible murmur escaped his lips, almost as if he was speaking in tongues.

Then he looked up.

“Hmmm… daughter of Zion, as soon as I began praying, the Lord just showed me something,” he remarked, his voice now lowered and intense. “My sister in Christ, this marriage… it is sacred. And what is coming… let me just say, it is heavy. A breakthrough so large, it will make your enemies stagger. This will be the real representation of ‘He sets a table before me in the presence of my enemies’. But… this will only come if you stay in position. If you play your role as wife, with faith and humility. Do not waver. Do not doubt.”

Phyllis gasped, eyes already filling with tears. Her hand gripped Aaron’s tighter.

Amos continued. “God is about to lift this household to levels you two would never have imagined. But He needs your obedience. He needs your submission. He needs you to follow your husband and let him lead as commanded by God.”

She couldn’t speak. She simply nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Aaron pulled her close, patting her back gently. “You hear that, sweetheart? The Lord is still speaking. It’s a blessing, isn’t it?” he commented tenderly, kissing her temple like the perfect, loving husband.

She wiped her eyes and nodded. “Yes, yes indeed. It truly is a blessing.”

“Uh-huh. And now that we know what He is saying, we’ll follow His word together, alright?”

Phyllis nodded, enjoying this little show of affection from her husband. One of the few times she got such sweet shows from him.

“Thank you, Prophet,” Aaron added, shaking Amos’ hand again. “We’re very grateful for this word in season. May the Lord continue to use you mightily.”

Amos gave a modest bow. “It’s all for His glory, sir.”

They nodded, said their goodbyes, and got into their car. While Phyllis wiped her face and did her best to regain her composure, Aaron glanced at Amos through the windshield with a smirk barely concealed behind his cool demeanor. The engine roared to life, and the couple drove off, leaving Amos standing in the sun, a satisfied glint in his eyes.

It had all gone exactly as planned between them. Phyllis had fallen for the show, as expected. And now, Amos could look forward to another tranche hitting his account.

Amos chuckled and nodded to himself as he took his phone and opened his Uber app, ready to enjoy another day of avoiding the trotro hassle.

***

The clatter of cutlery and low hum of conversations filled StreetChop Restaurant, the modestly upscale restaurant in cosmopolitan Accra, as waiters weaved between tables, delivering plates of steaming jollof and fried rice, grilled chicken, and chilled drinks to families and friends meeting up and having lunch after church service.

Aaron sat confidently at the head of the square table assigned to them, flanked by two well-dressed gentlemen, Papa Kwame and Cyril, both loosely connected to his business dealings. They were in mid-laughter over something Papa Kwame had said about a competitor’s failed snack brand when the waiter brought over fresh bottles of malt.

As they thanked him and took swigs of their drink, Phyllis sat quietly beside Aaron, her fork moving slowly through her fried rice. She had offered her greetings warmly when they arrived, and now she simply smiled, occasionally nodding to the men’s jokes, even when she didn’t fully understand them.

She would have loved to be somewhere else, doing her own thing, but Aaron insisted she be present. And after that divine revelation the prophet had given them a few hours earlier, there was no way she was going to resist. If God had big plans for their family, and her obedience was the key to unlocking it, best believe she would be the obedient, submissive wife she ought to be.

“So, Madam Phyllis,” Cyril started, turning her way with a charming smile. “Tell us, what’s it like being married to the man behind Tete Munchies? You must be proud, eh?”

Phyllis looked up, a bit surprised to be addressed directly. At that point, she was sure her only role was to smile and look pretty.

But hey, if she was being addressed, she had to respond. She smiled politely and nodded. “Yes, yes, I’m very proud of him. Aaron is a brilliant man, and it’s clear for all to see that Tete Munchies is a wonderful company. Destined to go global. I thank God for how far he’s come, and I… know He’s not done with him.”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, took a sip from his malt, then chuckled. “Aha! There goes the woman of God! Osofo Maame on show! You see how she talks like she’s in a church testimony line?”

Papa Kwame laughed. “Oh, so she’s very spiritual?”

“Spiritual?” Aaron scoffed lightly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “This my wife here? Please, spiritual is an understatement. If you don’t know and you even cough too hard in the house, she’ll tell you to bind the demons behind cough. Highly spiritual. Extremely spiritual. But you know, she means well. She tries.”

The men laughed. Phyllis let out a soft chuckle, her eyes fixed on her plate. Her fingers tightened around her fork.

Aaron wasn’t done. “But hmm… my dear wife isn’t too familiar with these… entrepreneurial things, you know? Sometimes I say something like ‘market positioning’ and she’ll be there asking if it’s from the book of Ezekiel or Nahum.”

The table erupted in another round of laughter.

Phyllis force smiled again, lips trembling slightly before she took another bite. She didn’t dare to look up, humiliation coursing through her system.

Aaron then turned to her, a sly smile. “By the way, I hope you finish your food, my dear. You know StreetChop prices diɛɛ, no be small thing. I wouldn’t want all that money to waste.”

She nodded obediently and scooped more rice into her mouth, chewing slowly, her stomach twisting while the men continued their conversation.

There he went again, piercing her heart with the most unkind words and masking them as jokes. He always had something derogatory to say to her, and it didn’t matter whether they were alone or in the company of others. He’d find a way to embarrass her or downplay her abilities and intelligence, and he’d do it so cleverly, most people would see it as a playful jab.

The hurt sat heavy on her chest like an anvil slowly squeezing the life out of a trapped small animal.

Six years of putting up with this horrid treatment. Six good years.

It was painful. Really painful.

Yet, she didn’t say a thing.

She remembered Prophet Amos’ words.

Stay in position. Be obedient. A breakthrough is coming.

Like she had told herself, she’d do whatever it took to obey God’s instructions. After all, the life of Christianity was not meant to be an easy one; Jesus wore thorns before wearing the crown. It made perfect sense that as a Christian, she’d have to go through that same route.

Maybe once the breakthrough happened, he’d finally become nicer to her. Who knew? After all, the heart of a king was in the hands of God, and He could turn it easily if he wanted to.

So she swallowed not just the food, but the sting of humiliation, telling herself it was her cross to carry—for now.

God was watching. And He would make things right at the appointed time.

Hmph. Aaron’s a different kind of abusive. He doesn’t shout or hit her, but he’s really set on destroying her…