The witch doctor compelled me to bathe with stinking herbal concoctions, and I slept in a coffin inside his rose-scented temple for seven nights. On Christmas Day at midnight, he took me to a mortuary where he made me kneel and pray to the sexual organs of seven dead men. He promised that dangling my sickly genitals in front of those dead men while celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, was one of the best ways to make my wife pregnant.
Last year, he forced a diaper on a kid goat in his sacred temple, and I cuddled the animal overnight as my unborn child. When he asked my wife to allow a puppy to suck at her breasts, the puppy representing our longed-for baby, she agreed after some moment of hesitation. Three months ago, I donated flowers and toiletries to hospices and orphanages. I’d hoped my generosity might persuade the God of Children to give me a child.
Yesterday, my wife Regina wept and screamed because she got her period again. She couldn’t even stop her tears as I caressed her cheeks and chest in our bedroom.
“Reggie, take it easy,” I said.
She jiggled her head, sitting unsteadily on the bed. “We’ve tried so hard, yet I’m still not pregnant.” She hugged herself as if feverish, glaring at me. “Seven whole years!”
“Let’s await God’s time. He’s supreme.”
“What is God’s time? You need a solution, not time.”
“Be patient with me, Reggie. Be patient.”
“Haven’t I endured enough?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve found a prophet who can give me a total cure. A man with troubled testicles doesn’t rest.”
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Now Prophet Elijah asks me to stand up and put on my clothes. He splashes the remaining blood in the cup on my head and sprinkles it on my white T-shirt. He mandates me not to have a bath for seven days because seven is a spiritually effective number. I’ve had the nasty smell of the blood on me for about thirty minutes, so I can imagine how disgusting I’ll smell for one week without bathing.
He slides into the cane chair. “You should bring your wife here.”
“Why?” I ask, hoping the question won’t stain his holiness.
“You’re going to make love to her in my presence.”
‘What seems to be an easy path usually is the most difficult to navigate.’ ~Unknown
An interesting read!
I commend you for this beautiful piece. It was funny and entertaining, yet informative.
I like that you highlighted Tim’s negligence of a possible solution, all because of money, only to patronize a ‘holy service’ offering little or no assistance towards his aspirations. This is the stark reality of many men in Africa who believe in supernatural healing than their scientific counterpart. Running campaigns for awareness for men’s health while making provision of access to finance, will go a long way to solve these simple issues.
At the point I read that Tim had chimpanzee balls for a meal, I reclined and thought, “how many more animals to go?” Lol.
I await your next short story. Well done!
Wow! A beautifully crafted master piece. Bravo!