When God Writes A Love Story (chapter Two)

THE STORY OF FIVE BROKEN, DAMAGED, ABUSED INDIVIDUALS` WITH A HAUNTED PAST THAT SEEMS TO DESTROY THEM. THE LOVE OF CHRIST WILLING TO SET THEM FREE. WILL THEY ACCEPT HIS LOVE OR SURRENDER TO THE VOICES THAT DRAW THEM TO HELL WHERE LUCIFER RESIDES?

Note to readers; Here's chapter two as promised. If you enjoyed reading this story, then please support the author by liking, sharing, and commenting. And also, follow this account to get notified when a new article is posted. Thank you, guys, for reading❤❤. Without a reader, there would be no need for a writer.

CHAPTER TWO

Ifeanyi Ekechukwu, a man in his late twenties, sat in the airplane, lost in thoughts about the early appointment he had with the director of Fama Industries, a fast-selling Oil and Gas company in South Africa. He hated early morning flights, and all he could think of was a nice warm relaxing bath back at home. His muscles ached all over, it had been like this since two weeks ago, and they had been working non-stop to get this contract. Fama was well known all over Africa, having established several partnerships with top countries; Egypt, Ghana, Liberia, Cameroon, and Togo. They had yet to be affiliated with Nigeria, and being the first company to work with the biggest oil industry in Africa would change everything for IBM. The money they could make from this would be 100 million dollars; although it wasn't the money, he was after, landing this deal would put their competition out of the market. 

Asher Jones, the secretary to the director, with whom they had been communicating for six months, had arranged a way for them to meet. He leaked to them that they would be in Abuja every month for a business event. Ifeanyi gathered all their resources and decided to push for this one. The worse that could happen was his proposal would be declined; he quivered at that thought, rejecting it by pleading the blood of Jesus. Not that he was religious, it was a habit he caught from his grand mum, Lucie Chibuike, who was the head of the Eastern women's prayer movement (EWPM), a prayer fellowship for all women in the East. She was a chronic prayer warrior who thought all problems could be solved with the blood of Jesus.

"Grandma, I fell…" he wept on her lap one evening, "Tochi was chasing me with a dead lizard." They were coming from the farm when Tochi sighted a dead lizard and decided to chase him with it. "Tah," she stood up angrily and spat on the floor, "Tochukwu, come here!" she cut out a fat branch from a nearby tree and gave him six hot lashes on his buttocks. When she was done, she drew Ifeanyi closer and used her wrapper to wipe his tears, "Nnèm, Ebezina kwa, you're a big boy." She sent Tochi immediately to bring her anointing oil and poured a little amount over the bruise, using her left thumb to massage it. “Ana m efesa gi Obara Jisus.” "But, grandma, my knee hurts." he tried to pull away, but her grip was strong.

"Mama!" Ezinne shouted. She dropped the polythene bag she was carrying and pulled her son away from her mother's arms, "Can't you see the bleeding has increased?" "I know, but the anointing oil will wash his blood and heal him," Mama explained. "Stay away from my children, don't bring your religious nonsense near them." "Nwam gbaghavaram, ana m acho inyere gi aka.”Ezinne hissed in anger. She collected her things from the floor and dragged her son into the room.

Ifeanyi didn't understand why his mum was hostile to his grandma that day. It was later learned that the action could cause a bacterial infection, and if not treated properly, it would lead to skin irritation. His mother was a trained nurse, so she understood the implication. He didn't blame Mama Lucie; she was over 78 years and was used to the traditional way of doing things.

He brought out his Macbook and placed it on the desk, pushing the food aside; he then began to go over the presentation slide, reciting the pitch to himself, checking for last-minute details, anything that would increase their chances of closing the deal. His phone buzzed. His face brightened when he saw the name of the caller ID. The date had been long overdue; he had been planning this since two months ago, he had been busy, and with a job like this, one would hardly find time for a steady romantic relationship. Not that he thought of their relationship that way. Stella was special. She stood out from the others, sure he had met gorgeous, sensible, and sophisticated ladies, but there was something about her that was irresistible. He didn't want a relationship now; her friend was all he needed. Women and love. Two things he never understood.

"Excuse me, is there any other thing that you need?" The hostess asked with a seductive smile. He looked at the food he had barely touched before him; Plantain Battered Gizzards served with Pepper Sauce as the starter and the main course; Deep Fried Chicken with a side of Jollof Rice and Cabbage Kale Salad with Sweet Poppy Seed Dressing, a bottle of Escudo Rojo Red Wine placed beside it. "I can offer you more wine," she said, adjusting her shirt and unfastening the top button, showing a little skin.

One, he was irritated; this was unprofessional. Two, she was flirting. It was something he was used to; a lot of women found him charming. Older women would make advances at him; the younger ones would swoon, their eyes goggling at him every time he walked past them. "No, thanks. A glass would do." He craved another glass, but he didn't want to appear scrubby to the director. "And what about you, miss?" she said to the woman seated opposite him. Hilary Akesi, a short, light-skinned Ghanaian lady, was the head of their marketing division. The plan was that she would chip in some valid points as he made the presentation. There were others in different departments who volunteered, but he refused; Hilary had solid knowledge with seven years of experience in this kind of stuff. The best choice, he thought.

 "I'd like more wine." She responded coolly. That was the first time she had made eye contact with him since they boarded. What was it she was afraid of? A lot of women would be frightened to travel with their boss and intimidated to share a hotel room with them, but this was different, the meeting would hold in an office, and then the next day, they would take an early morning flight back to Lagos. And then that was when he saw it, a large diamond. How didn't he notice? Three months back, word flew around the office; a huge proposal had happened. When he asked, they said it was someone in marketing, and he didn't bother to find out the rest. She kept flashing it at him as if to say, don't hit on me; I'm engaged, you idiot. Yes, he was Infamous for using and dumping women, but this was different; he wasn't going to stoop low and threaten her, using her job as a reason to sleep with her.

So he decided to break the ice, "Congratulations, by the way. He's a very lucky man." He made sure his tone wasn't flirty. He wasn't stupid after all, she thought. "Thank you, and as my boss, you should come to the wedding." she was gleaming. "I will. When is it happening?" Her expression suddenly changed, and the smile she had on her face had turned into a scowl. "Didn't you get my invitation card? The details are there." An invite? Oh no! Here he was, trying to make up to be the best boss, clearing his image right before her. He never checked his personal email; only his work emails were opened every morning. She should have dropped a card on his desk. I mean, Jomiloju, his secretary, would have relayed it to him. "I didn't see anything. I only open my work emails." He explained further.

"I know, and that's why I dropped a card." A card. He thought long and hard. "When was this?" "The 18th of April, the day of the convention." She pointed out. That day, he had Jomiloju rearrange his desk; he said anything personal should be kept in the box under his desk. He would sort them later at home. She must have thought the invite was one of them. He explained everything to her, but she wasn't buying it. "There are others at the office, way busier than you, like Mr. West, Udeme, Gideon; they acknowledged the invitation by sending in early gifts. Why do you have to be different from others?" She retorted. "It was an honest mistake. Now I know, and I'm coming." One could hear the sincerity in his voice. Still, she kept mute. He knew he had blown it. "Women and their wahala." He muttered bitterly to himself.

To be continued...

Translations (I don't understand the Igbo language, but with the help of friends, I've been able to translate this. To my amazing Igbo readers, did I get it right? Please let me know in the comments section🤧🤧) Nnèm-My child Ebezina Kwa- Please stop crying Ana m efesa gi Obara Jisus- I plead the blood of Jesus Nwam gbaghavaram, ana m acho inyere gi aka-My daughter, please forgive me. I'm only trying to help. Don't forget to like, share and comment down below.

~What do you think would happen next?

~ Who's your favorite character so far?

~With what you've seen so far, do you think Ifeanyi would be good enough for Stella?

~What do you hope to see in the next chapter?

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