Beyond Chains

By MarkAnthony Nze

Michael Nnaji is young, affable and extremely brilliant, but still struggling. He dedicates the entirety of his life to ecclesiastical service, and the anointing upon his life is a major source of blessing to many that come across him. However, anointing without money is annoyance, so his superior in the church, Pastor Kunle Martins orchestrates a multimillion-dollar deal that requires his information and communication technology expertise, which will certainly make him stupendously rich.

He rejects the juicy offer bluntly, and upholds the tenet of his faith while Pastor Martins goes raving mad at him and presents him with a choice: either to accept the crooked, rich proposition or spend his whole life, languishing in gaol.

Michael prays ardently for divine intervention to be let off the hook but quite unfortunate, the charge against him is very grievous, and he needs a rapid and effective legal service which he can't really afford to escape a damnable incarceration, and he hopes for a miracle to get that. One just wonders the possibility of it. An absolute expose' of the ills venerated personalities perpetrate in the African society.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Oct 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493117949

MarkAnthony Nze

MarkAnthony Nze is a first-rate content creator, publisher, and the CEO of People and Polity Incorporated, New york, a media outfit into content creation, and operating two news web-portals namely: www.africatodaynewsonline.com and www.africadailynews.net, both sites publish 24/7 unbiased reportage of trending events, and breaking news particularly from Africa, and the rest of the world. As an iconoclastic literary artist, his works are usually expository, and quite often center on the truth while breaking age-long misconceptions in the society erroneously held as norms. The author presently lives, and works in New York where he is working on another intriguing novel.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by MarkAnthony Nze.

ISBN:      Hardcover         978-1-4990-8898-4

                 Softcover          978-1-4931-1793-2

                 eBook               978-1-4931-1794-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 11/07/2014

Xlibris

0-800-644-6988

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

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Contents

Acknowledgement

NOTES

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

To The Evergreen Memory Of Evangelista Nze

(1966-2010)

Acknowledgement

My profound gratitude goes to Nze and Lolo GNA Nze, Austin Nze, Bibiana Nze, Reverend Father Kenneth Nwaimo, Tony Ejiogu, Comrade Joe Ajaero, Professor Val Obinna, Bobby Luccy, Niyi Afolayan, Raphael and Nora Chukwukwue; for their immense contributions while working on this book.

NOTES

In our world today, Christianity is amongst the major religions to reckon with. It’s a faith that promises eternal life and preaches peace, progress and prosperity.

Due to its teachings, most people that probably will be constituting nuisance are calm, those that intend to attempt any vendetta on others, let go and leave justice in the hands of God, the creator of Heaven and Earth to reward everybody accordingly, as the Bible advises. Lots of those in the faith co-inhabit happily with others hoping for the promise of God to come through in their lives.

It’s a wonderful religion of love and harmony all over the Earth. However, many now especially the revered clerics hide under it to perpetrate their wicked acts and because their followers see them as messengers of God, they accord them so much respect and shower a lot of praises on them. Which of course is not out of place, naturally, no body ill-treats a messenger or a servant of God. Even the so-called atheist will one way or the other show respect to those he knows that work for God, though in a manner that is not obvious.

The modern-day ministers of God abuse the privileges people give to them nowadays, they do all kinds of evil, snatch their members’ women, and vice versa, extort money from their unsuspecting followers, and aid and abet crime in the society, all in the name of God. And their congregation dare not raise an eyebrow, simply because, they are ministers of God, and as such have the authority to infringe on the rights and privileges of others.

Some of the young pastors that work with them in the vineyard of the Lord that try to live right as their faith demands, they make life unbearable for them. They want these young ones to see the faith as commerce and merchandise instead of the virtues the religion upholds.

It’s rather quite pathetic that money has become the god of many clergymen and women today. At all costs, they want to turn the message of the cross which brings light to those in darkness, understanding to the simple, deliverance to the captives, healing to the sick, strength to the feeble, and prosperity to the poor, to be for, ‘The highest bidders. How much are you willing to pay and I give you the message?’ That has become the question on the lips of so many preachers of the gospel these days. It’s no longer what Christ emphasised, ‘Freely you receive and freely, you give.’ The gospel of Christ as far as they’re concerned is no more for the poor, meanwhile, the pacesetter actually came because of the weak, the poor and others in one need or the other. Many churches and pastors out there hardly recognise their struggling members irrespective of their faithfulness, diligence and honesty, instead a rich and notorious criminal is more glorious before these so-called servants of God.

Though in as much as I try to expose their cruelty in this novel, creating the characters, and the major plot in my country, Nigeria. I also want my readers to understand that this problem is not common to Nigeria alone but the entirety of the world in diverse religions and despite the fact that it’s really this bad, there are still many servants of God all over the world, even in the midst of chaotic disorder that will not lift their hands to commit atrocity. There are those that are faithfully serving God in truth and in holiness, upholding the virtuous tenet of the faith equally blessing humanity.

Finally, this is a complete work of fiction, and resemblance to character, or names to persons living or dead is only coincidental. Except the ones like public institutions and states, which I have dramatic licence as a writer to present the story in an exciting way, and without being insulting or libelous.

Thank you.

MarkAnthony Nze

Chapter 1

The gentle breeze of the harmattan blew into the room, raising two old curtains covering the wooden windows of his one room apartment, and he woke up, sighing as he picked his leather-bound New King James Version of the Holy Bible, which was given to him on his thirty-second birthday, three months ago, by his bishop. He opened the Bible wearily, to the book of Psalms and gradually, flipped to the twenty-third Psalm with his right hand, muttering the passage to himself:

"The Lord is my shepherd;

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside the still waters.

He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For his name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For you are with me;

Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

My cup runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

All the days of my life;

And I will dwell in the house of the LORD

Forever."

He closed it gently and, like one suffering from diabetes and suddenly injected with insulin, sprang forth into life. He jumped up and began singing a Christian worship song:

‘I love that man of Galilee

For he has done so very much for me

He has forgiven me, all my sins and

Send the Holy Ghost to me

I love that man of Galilee . . . ’

In the same attitude of worship, he began praising God.

‘Lord, I worship you. Everlasting king of kings, I adore you. There’s none like you. Irrespective of my penury condition, I enthrone you, Lord, over my spirit, soul, and body.

‘For your word makes me understand what is in the book of Ecclesiastes 9 verse 4 that For him who is joined to all the living there is hope, for a living dog is better than a dead lion.

‘I thank you, for I know that my condition will definitely change because you have taken away my poverty on the cross of Calvary, and replaced it with your ever increasing wealth. I decree, and declare that it’s well with me.

‘I shall lack no more. Certainly you’ll supply all my needs according to your riches in glory. I am blessed beyond lack! This month of January will bring me exponential breakthrough!’

As he was still praying, his worn out Nokia 3310 mobile telephone kept ringing persistently, but deliberately, he ignored it.

‘Lord! I shall suffer no more! I am blessed beyond every curse. I’m a light to my generation in the mighty name of Jesus Christ. Amen!’

Sweating profusely from his face, down to his neck and tummy, after the violent prayer session, he slowly picked up from the bed a towel which was originally immaculate white, but has now turned brown with age. As he began to mop up the perspiration, the mobile telephone that had ceased ringing briefly, resumed.

With his left hand, he quickly grabbed it and pressed the answering button with his thumb after seeing the caller’s name on the screen.

‘Hello Oge,’ he said in a voice that was barely audible.

‘Hello. Brother Michael.’ It was his younger sister, he interjected anxiously to enquire how they were doing.

‘Oge, how’re you? How’s Mama? I hope . . . ’

‘Brother, I’m afraid there’s fire on the mountain.’

‘Oge! What do you mean by that? I mean . . . ’

‘Are you still there? Oge!’

He removed the handset from his ear quickly, and looked at the screen, but unfortunately, the call was lost. He sighed, and began to talk to himself.

‘God! What do I do now? I don’t even have a single call unit on this phone. If I had money now, I would have gone to call her on a pay phone. Lord, this is a burden, I prayed for breakthrough, and I’m being presented with the opposite. Surely, this can’t be of God. I must look for an avenue to reach my sister on phone.

‘Devil, you’ve failed woefully.’ He exclaimed as he stood up and took his towel. He picked up his half-broken blue bucket, and went to the well to draw water for bathing.

On getting there, he found Sade and Mobola already, drawing water from the well. The two young ladies were the daughters of his next-door neighbours, Mr and Mrs Olusola. Sade, who had always admired his flawless dark complexion, masculinity, and intelligence, brightened up upon seeing him, having had a fierce argument with her mother on whose turn it was to do the cooking in the evening between her and the younger sister, Mobola.

Mrs Ini Olusola, a full-time housewife, and a very lazy woman of the first order. In addition to being highly irresponsible, she absolutely withdrew from her responsibilities as a wife and mother to her husband and children.

She would sit down on the couch in the sitting room of their two-room apartment, flipping through the local television channels, and when she was bored with their entertainment, she would slot a CD plate of any of the numerous Nollywood movies she usually rented from the video club; little wonder, she knew virtually all the names of the Nollywood stars.

She could only be seen outside when Power Holding Company of Nigeria interrupted power, in the company of her garrulous friend, Mrs Okosun. She was nothing short of an embarrassment to her husband. Neighbours had always wondered why such an easy-going, and hard-working man like KO (Kike Olusola), as he was fondly called, ended up marrying a cantankerous woman like that.

Rumour had it that KO was earlier warned by his late mother never to marry her after making the necessary enquiries about her, but he wouldn’t hear of that, having been carried away by her striking beauty as she was a very pretty woman then. Though she might not pass as a beauty queen now, as a result of age, her charmingly shaped oval face with pointed nose, and lustrous lips showed that she was still quite beautiful. She was neither fair nor dark in complexion, but a combination of the two.

For a woman, she was tall enough to stand as a model, her well-rounded hips typify that of a beautiful African woman.

But those who knew her prior to marriage would tell you that she was no longer as beautiful as she used to be. They honestly believed then that she was adorably beautiful like a beauty idol.

Apparently, they were right because her first daughter, Sade, who happened to be a replica of her, was indeed a beauty queen.

The twenty-one-year-old final-year student of physics and mathematics at the University of Lagos was truly a beauty to behold with her ever glowing light complexion and height of approximately six-foot, with an alluring physique that sent shivers down the spines of many men both young and old, upon setting eyes on her.

As a result of that, several men had come in the past and were still coming to ask for her hand in marriage, but she wouldn’t listen to them and so they went through her mother, who would demand and sometimes collect cash and gifts such as clothing and jewellery from them.

One pathetic case was the story of one young Alhaji. Having seen Sade, and fallen head over heels in love with her at first sight, he enquired about her, and he was reliably informed that she was KO’s first daughter, who lived at No. 3 Salaami Street Iyana-Ipaja, a few metres away from Victorious Christian Centre, the biggest church so far in the entirety of Lagos, as well as in the country, and serving as a landmark for visitors and strangers to Iyana-Ipaja.

Alhaji Abubakar had talked to Sade previously, and requested to know where she was living, but the maiden bluntly refused to give the young Alhaji her residential address. But he was glad to know that after all it was not such a difficult task to find out her address, since the description of her place given to him was near to the popular Pentecostal church.

The young multimillionaire, having had no difficulty in locating the place, started paying regular visits to Sade’s home after her mother promised him that her daughter would marry him as long he was willing to always meet her financial obligations. So he began rolling in funds for her as he thought it was a sacrifice worth making since she was going to be his mother-in-law soon, but he was oblivious to the fact that he was building a castle in the air.

By the time he realised that his so-called sweetheart never cared about him, he was heartbroken. So he decided to confront Ini for deceiving him.

‘Iya Sade!’ Alhaji shouted on top of his voice from outside.

‘Iya Sade!’ This time, he shouted louder that almost everybody in the compound heard him.

She was in their living room when she heard her name being shouted repeatedly by a voice she could barely recognise. She shouted back arrogantly from there with a tone of anger in her voice.

‘Who’s that fool shouting my name? Didn’t your mother teach you good manners?’

Alhaji ignored her statement, and kept shouting her name. ‘Iya Sade!’

‘Iya Sade! If you don’t want the whole neighbourhood to gather before us, you had better come out now!’

On recognising the voice, she readjusted her one-piece wrapper that was loosely tied, and barely covering her massive body. She stood up and walked out clumsily, leaving the door ajar. On seeing Alhaji, she pretentiously expressed surprise.

‘Ah! Young Alhaji,’ she called him as she fondly did. But he ignored her.

‘I never knew you were the one. Why didn’t you come inside?’ she asked, still expressing surprise at his behaviour.

Alhaji, who had been leaning on his metallic grey C-Class Mercedes Benz, and sternly looking at her with his two fists tightly closed like a boxer in the boxing ring, ready to commence a bout, hissed and began to speak angrily to her, ‘Iya Sade! So you’re like this?’ he made a spiral sign with the movement of his right fingers.

‘Like how?’ Ini, feigning ignorance, asked.

‘Don’t! Don’t pretend as if you don’t know what I’m talking about,’ Alhaji said, apparently infuriated.

She asked him to explain calmly to her what he meant.

‘Please explain to me in details.’

‘OK, since you don’t know what I’m talking about, let me tell you. I need my money back,’ he blurted out angrily.

‘What money?’ Ini asked surprisingly, spreading her two palms wide apart.

‘I have given you over a million naira since I indicated my interest to marry your daughter only for her to humiliate me.’ He paused briefly, and struck his broad chest repeatedly and began again.

‘I! Alhaji Mohammed Abubakar, the scion of Abubakar’s family, to be humiliated by a little girl in front of my business associates just because I came to find out from her the date that would be suitable for her so that we could do the engagement party, I . . . ’

Ini interrupted him with her plea, ‘Alhaji, please calm down.’

‘Calm down for what? You would have told me that your daughter was not interested in my advances towards her. Instead you were using her to extort money from me!’ he exclaimed very furiously.

By this time, people had started gathering around them. Ini, aware of the amount of trouble Alhaji was ready to foment, had to devise a means at least to let him off her at that point. ‘So after having it with me, you now want to do it with my daughter too, right?’ she said to him, almost on top of her voice.

‘You want to enjoy both mother and daughter? Ashawo man!’ Philander. She cursed.

Her comments not only startled Alhaji but also enraged him more.

The people that had gathered around them began laughing at him, while others rained abuses on him for descending so low as to have such a dirty relationship with a married woman. Though he tried to deny it, they wouldn’t listen to him.

‘No! That’s not true. This woman here is a liar!’ he said, pointing at Ini, who was standing a few steps opposite him.

‘You’re the liar. Get out of here fast before her husband meets you. The man who told people the colour of undies a prostitute wore, should equally be asked what he was doing with her to find out that,’ Mrs Okosun said in defence of her friend.

‘Yes, oh!’ echoed the crowd as they stood laughing, and cursing him.

On realising the kind of damage that could do to his father’s reputation as a gubernatorial candidate in the forthcoming elections, he quickly got into his car with the engine still steaming, engaged the automatic gear into reverse, and made a U-turn, and then zoomed off, ignoring the people shouting curses at him.

When KO returned from work, he was informed by some of his neighbours who were around during the incident. And as one would expect, he confronted his wife, and that brought a big quarrel, which nearly resulted into a physical combat between them, if not for the timely intervention of Michael.

Michael, who was held in high esteem by all the other twelve tenants because of his humility, friendly nature, and above all, position as a pastor in a big church like Victorious Christian Centre, was returning from his usual midweek service when the eighteen-year-old, Mobola ran to him and pleaded with him to come, and mediate between her parents.

The young reverend was very famished and tired. So, he hesitated and wanted to make some excuses, but seeing the crying eyes and hearing the plea in this beautiful young lady’s voice, he agreed and followed her. On getting there, he saw clearly, why she had wanted him to come at all costs.

Abusive words proceeded freely from the mouths of Mr and Mrs Olusola, tongue lashing each other with several foul utterances.

As he stood at the entrance of their sitting room, he heard Mr Olusola saying;

‘You’re nothing but a worthless harlot. I wish I had listened to my late mother when she warned me not to marry a whore like you.’

‘See, who’s talking. A useless and frustrated truck driver like you, who nearly ran mad while chasing me. Now, you have the effrontery to talk to me rashly. When you were pursuing me here and there, begging me to marry you; you never knew I was a harlot. I don’t blame you,’ she responded and hissed loudly.

‘I was under the influence of your charms,’ he fired back.

‘Bloody liar! You were practically on your knees for over a year, begging me to be your wife, and that if I didn’t marry you, you would commit suicide and your blood would be on my head. Out of pity, I married you, you idiot,’ she cursed him.

‘You’re the one who’s an idiot,’ he sharply responded, and continued insulting her. ‘Diabolical Calabar lunatic, that’s what you’re. You bewitched me so that I would marry you. Just look at you. Take a good look at your miserable life. Since I got married to you, you have always been a liability to me. Neither once nor twice, I had given you bulk money to start any business of your choice, but you squandered it on frivolities. Honestly, you are a curse to me!’ he exclaimed.

‘How much did you give me? A paltry amount that wasn’t even enough to cook a delicious pot of soup. That’s what you refer to as bulk amount, and you stand there to curse me. It’s you and your late witch of a mother who are a curse to me,’ she responded angrily.

Of course, KO was right, more than three times, he had given her well over a quarter of a million naira to start a trade but she squandered the money on frivolities.

Michael was dumbfounded by the things he heard from both husband and wife. Even his presence could not calm them down immediately as Ini swiftly moved with her massive size to attack her diminutive husband.

Sensing danger, Michael quickly stood in front of her and held her, while KO sneaked out, obviously not wanting to be disgraced as usual by his own wife in front of a stranger.

He pleaded with Ini to calm down, which she did after several minutes of pleading. Choosing his words carefully, he counselled her. It was at this point that Sade, who had been in school all this while, walked in, and Ini introduced her to him.

‘Please meet my first daughter,’ she said, pointing at Sade.

‘Wow! I never knew that you had another beautiful daughter. That’s nice,’ Michael said, expressing surprise.

‘Yes, I do. I’m sorry I don’t even know your name,’ she said apologetically.

‘Oh! I’m Michael Nnaji,’ he introduced himself, smiling.

At this juncture, Mobola, who went out with her father earlier, had returned and thanked Michael.

‘Thank you, pastor; I really appreciate your coming. God bless you,’ she said, unaware of her sister’s presence.

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Ini as she asked, ‘Is he the pastor that recently moved in, that everybody has been talking about?’

‘I hope you’ve not been hearing ugly things about me, madam,’ he asked with a deep smile, which revealed his beautiful set of dentition.

‘On the contrary, my dear, they are pretty good,’ she answered, looking at him seductively.

‘Thank you, madam,’ he responded in appreciation.

‘You’re welcome, my dear,’ Ini said, with an amiable wink.

Ini, who was notorious for having several illicit relationships with quite a handful of young men in their neighbourhood, was already imagining how lovely it would be to spend a cool night in his arms, before Sade startled her with her greeting to Michael.

‘Good evening, man of God,’ Sade said, smiling and looking at him.

‘Good evening, young lady,’ he responded cheerfully.

‘Welcome sister,’ Mobola turned towards her sister and greeted her. Sade was about to respond to her younger sister’s greeting, when her mother interrupted.

‘She’s recently admitted into the university to study physics and maths,’ Ini said proudly, and managed to pronounce the courses correctly.

‘Oh! Congratulations. You must be very brilliant to opt for such intricate courses, which students flee from, just at the mere mention of them,’ responded the pastor, smiling.

‘She took after me. I’m happy that none of them took after their father, who obviously is a blockhead,’ Ini said arrogantly.

‘Uh-oh! Mummy!’ Mobola said disapprovingly.

‘What’s uh-oh? That’s the truth,’ said Ini, hissing. Michael couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and he said jokingly, ‘That’s part of the reason he married you—your intelligence. You’ll agree with me that he’s equally clever to be able to marry an intelligent woman like you.’

They all laughed at that heartily, and thanked him sincerely, and as he was leaving for his apartment, Sade decided to see him off.

This happened five years ago, to be precise, and since that time, Ini had always tried every possible means to entice him into having a relationship with her, while her daughter Sade, had fallen head over heels in love with him. But Ini, seeing earlier that he was not in any way interested in such an unholy affair, stopped making advances towards him, but Sade wouldn’t let go.

Michael avoided her like a plague, irrespective of the smart attempts she always made to get close to him. Sometimes, she would go as far as using her pocket money to prepare a mouth-watering vegetable soup with pounded yam, but he always rejected them, giving her several excuses why he wouldn’t have them. But as far as his younger brother, Nnamdi was concerned, that was sheer foolishness on his elder brother’s part, so whenever he came visiting, and such delicacies were brought, he was always glad to accept them on behalf of his brother, and consumed all of them before letting him know that such came.

Sade, who was madly in love with Michael, always wanted to see or have him around her regularly. So, she was indeed happy that morning when she saw him at the well. Having exchanged pleasantries with him, she offered to help him fill his bucket with water, but he declined initially. However, when she insisted, he had to let her.

At this point, he felt like asking her to lend him some money, but he quickly rejected the temptation, and gently took his already filled bucket and thanked her, before leaving for the bathroom.

Chapter 2

He kept speaking to himself as he walked slowly on the lonely path of their street to the church. If passers-by had seen him by any chance, they certainly would have mistaken him for a lunatic.

Ogechi had finally told him briefly but explicitly what the situation was, back home via short message service of her mobile telephone. But the question that kept ringing in his mind was, ‘Where will I get the sum of 30,000 naira to send home for her treatment now?’

He reached for his breast pocket slowly, and brought out his handset.