Na Me Kill Am?

                     By Yamilenu Bamgboye 

Brother Ambali is a young believer; he is quite enthusiastic too. His journey into the Christian fold didn’t start on a fateful day, nah. He was born into it but his spiritual rebirth started not too long ago. ‘Go. Preach. Greater works than I did you would do’, kept ringing in his head. So, off he goes on this day.

It’s a beautiful Thursday afternoon. His first call is at a hospital. He goes to the administrative office, jabbers a few words and he’s given the permission he sought. Boldly, he walks into each ward, talking and praying with those that do not object. His heart is filled with joy; everything is going as planned, he thinks. His assignment in ward C is about wrapping up when a nurse rushes in.    

‘Sir’, she interrupts his preaching, ‘a man just died in Ward E. Could you come pray for him? He’s such a young guy’, she stops amid tears. From how she cares, she must have gotten attached in some way to the dying guy. Brother Ambali turns pale immediately. His heart pounds and he’s almost peeing his trousers. He adjusts his suit, stammers a little and promises to be there shortly. Like an answered prayer, as soon as the nurse turns to leave, he stands up, forgetting to even lead his audience in the usual conversion prayer. 

At the door, he turns his head first to the left then to the right like he’s about crossing an expressway. He’s careful enough to observe the nurse is not in sight. Quickly but stealthily, he walks across the corridor. 

‘Sir! Sir! Pastor!’, he hears a tiny voice call from behind. He’s only ten yards away from the gate. He’s busted.                                                  

 ‘Sir, I told you to come…’

‘I know!’, he snaps interrupting her.       

Are you running away?’, she asks.

‘Is that the word? Even if I am, se na me kill am?’. 

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