Darkness overshadowed the earth, only the light of the moon gave a path for passers-by to see. The roosters and dogs were in their shelters obeying the law of nature to rest as it was midnight. No soul was seen around as quietness engulfed the whole place.
A loud cry could be heard from afar off in the ghetto. Incoherent words can be heard clearly as the silhouette of a figure bent to the ground screaming and talking at the same time. One couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. “Who did this to me, oh Jesus, who did this to me”, the voice screamed.
Blackie thought he was hallucinating but, then he was. He wish he could turn back the hands of time, it was late, not too late though.
Anyone who passes through the ghetto in the early morning hours would meet a bubbling environment. Music coming from a mallam’s shop non-stop will make you think the battery of their radios never dies. There were various shops with mallams in the ghetto, all selling the same items. The incense-filled shops never run dry, and one keeps wondering why they don’t choke on the suffocating smell. They were used to it.
At all corners, you would see several sleeping bodies, covered with clothes. They felt safe there rather than sleeping under the bridge. The wet ground at the ghetto was a norm for everyone, it has never gone dry before. Some said the acres of land were marshy and that it was only sand filled to allow houses to be built on it. Some knew it was due to a lot of water being poured on the ground by the unsheltered people.
At the corner beside the Mallam’s shop early in the morning sat a young man holding a medium transparent nylon bag, inside the bag were smaller bags of different sizes containing Cannabis Sativa (igbo). He only sold to familiar faces and to strange faces who came with a passcode that is slang which is known amongst his consumers.
Blackie came to the ghetto newly with one of his converts who live there. He claimed the Lord told him many souls were perishing there who needed to give their lives to Christ. Though he didn’t receive a directive to come there, yet he came and decided to stay with one of his converts for the main time. Blackie as fondly called by the ghetto would stay in his convert’s shelter, wake up very early in the morning and rings his bell.
“Ijoba orun ku si de de, eyi pada” (the kingdom of God is at hand, change your ways), he preached by walking around the ghetto as he rang his bell. He would shout again ” give your life to Christ today, tomorrow might be too late”. He did this in his baggy jean, white shirt and natural dreaded hair. The environs were so used to minding their business that no one answered him or pay attention to him.
Blackie won their respect the day he prayed for a convulsing child and he was healed. All the little children who have no money to go to school made Blackie’s room their school. He would teach them Arithmetics and the English Language. He also taught them bible stories which the children loved.
…To be continued…
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