Emmanuel and his Friend
“I hate to admit it. I am afraid to tell anyone this, but the truth is, right now, I can’t afford an erection or even have any feelings in my male organ,” Emmanuel said to his friend, Samson. Samson shifted uncertainly in his chair wondering if he heard Emmanuel well. “How…how did you come to this? How… I mean what happened, Emma?” Samson asked, almost choking on his words. “It is my wife! I suspect my wife. It all began on our wedding night. While we made love…our first love since we knew each other, something left my body. Ever since then, I have not felt the same. The height of it now is that my male organ is as good as dead. I know there is something down there only because I have this weird occasional jolts down there as if my male organ was battling to come back to life…” Emmanuel paused and wiped at a bead of tear in the corners of his left eye.
Samson drew closer to him and tapped gently on his right thigh. “It is okay, Emma. All hope is not lost. The same gods who afflicted a child with itches, also gave him fingernails to scratch them… Tell me why you think your wife is responsible for the crash of your male organ?”“I think she is jinxed. I believe she has a spiritual husband. Come to think of it, why else would I lose my pride as man when I began to have formal relations with her as my wife? Why didn’t I lose my strength before I had sex with her? Why didn’t I have this experience those days I slept with other girls? Whatever happened to my male organ is connected to my wife, I am certain of it!” “Phew!! Spiritual husbands can be stubborn and jealous; they are one problem you don’t want to have. If indeed, a spiritual husband is responsible for what happened to you, there is a way to find out.” “How? Tell me please,” Emmanuel asked, shifting to the edge of his seat. “You have to give your attention to another woman…” “What! I can’t do that! I don’t want to go back to my sins!” “Wait! Wait, Emmanuel! I am not saying you should embrace infidelity…
This is my meaning, spiritual husbands are proud and jealous evil spirits. If you make them think they have won, they will leave you alone. The way out is to use their pride against them. You have to give your wife some distance and turn your attention to another woman. If your male strength returns, then your wife is your problem…”“And if it doesn’t?” “Then something else took your male strength.” Emmanuel stood up and paced about the living room, wondering how he could do what Samson had suggested. He returned to his seat and asked, “How do I find a woman that will not expose me to the world?” “I will take care of that for you. I have a lady friend whose mere appearance will cause your male organ to riot back to life.
That is if a spiritual husband is responsible for what happened to you. You must treat this lady like you treat your wife. The idea is to fool the spiritual husband into thinking you have left your wife for him.” “Wait, Sammy, how did you learn all this?” “My grandmother served water spirits. While growing up I saw unbelievable things. I saw barren women, get pregnant after they pacified their spiritual husbands. I saw men regain their libido when they appeased their spiritual wives or warded off their wives’ spiritual husbands. The spiritual world is as real as this one, or maybe even much more real.”
With a huge smile on his face, the cemetery keeper walked to Janet where she was sitting under the mango tree and announced he was done with his work of weeding her father in-law’s grave, and had presented him with perfumed flowers. “So, can I go read him the poem now, right?” she asked. “Yes, I believe he can’t wait to hear those words,” said the man.Staggering on his bad limbs, he followed Janet back to the grave. Janet was not sure, but somewhere in the recesses of her mind was the knowledge that what she was doing bothered on necromancy. To lighten her mind, heavily burdened with guilt, she mumbled a short prayer to God. “Dear God, please forgive me. I am not sure about this, but in my current dire situation, this is the only solution I can get my hands on.”
That prayer did not lighten her heavy heart, but it afforded her some pseudo comfort, for having condemned the act of communicating with the dead before she embarked on it.For the next ten minutes, Janet summoned her intellectual astuteness and read the words of the poem as though she was reading the wordings of a holy poem in the church.
Her mind was so focused on the words of the poem that she did not see any of the rather paranormal activities happening around the grave. The cemetery keeper was mesmerized. He was almost delirious by what he saw. As Janet read the words, the sand on the grave seemed to bounce up and down in a rhythmic fashion. It was at the point she finished reading the poem that she turned her gaze back to the man next to her. The man was literally jazzed.“What is it sir?” she asked. The man looked up, his face wrapped up in Elysium. With stuttering lips, he replied, “I… I… Saw the grave… The grave danced! I saw the grave dance! The dead in it is happy!” That was not something to say to a lady totally naïve about spiritual things and the dead.
Janet felt her heart beat irregularly with pungent twinge of pain. She stepped away from the grave, afraid it might open up and swallow her whole. Then a blast of wind blew in-between them and a voice like the voice of the wind whispered, “Find my killer and you will have found your oppressor.”
The Story Continues….