My husband was taken to a herbalist in Egi-Oyo Ipo, a very small hamlet in Kwara state. The herbalist
made some incantations, gave him some concoctions to drink and for the first time his eyes came down.
The smiles on our faces was aborted when the herbalist came to announce to us “I see death on his
forehead”. We can only remove this death if only he can confess the secret in his belly. Secret? I shouted.
Kassim why have you hid the secret for this long even to the point of death? The same secret baba
pastor wanted you to confess that you refused. Now that you are face to face with death, will you speak
up and save your life or keep your secret and die? Even at this Kassim, was not willing to say anything.
His dad was the first to break the silence. He pleaded with the herbalist to let him talk on behalf of his
son. Fifteen years ago, Kassim was caught raping his mother while I was away at the farm. He was
arrested by the youth of our village and taken to Kabiyesi. The ifa priest was invited to seek the face of
the gods and to pronounce judgement on him. We were asked to bring two live cows, twenty one black
fowls, seven kegs of palm wine and some monies for sacrifice. We did everything we were asked to do
and he was banished from the village for three years. My body went cold on hearing all Kassim’s father had said. So my husband had done this terrible abomination without telling me? No wonder my womb
could not conceive even for one day after I married him. I wept as if my eye balls will fall off from its
socket. The herbalist checked through his calabash again, “The death sentence is still hanging”, he said.
There are still many atrocities he is yet to confess. He has just seven days to confess or he will join his
ancestors in the land beyond, the herbalist warned. I grabbed Kassim and shook him hard, why do you
want to die untimely? Look at death starring at you, yet you are still hiding secrets, please confess and
set yourself free. There is nothing that will be more shocking than what daddy had already confessed on
your behalf. I went on my kneels begging my husband to say something but he was adamant. How can a
man be this hardened even at the face of death? I didn’t know this is the type of man I married, my
thoughts were almost louder than words.
Three days has passed but my husband refused to confess and his condition got worsen by the day.
Death was all written all over him but he was indifferent. On the fifth day his hands and legs stopped moving. His condition graduated to partial stroke. Toyin wasn’t happy with me because of my romance with the diabolical arena because of my unyielding husband. Sincerely, I had forgotten I was a born
again Christian until Toyin began to ask me if I followed them to the herbalist. But what could I have done? To sit back while they carry my husband to places I don’t know? I knew I had compromised my faith but there wasn’t any option left for me. We wouldn’t have been here if Kassim had confessed to baba.
More shocking revelations to come