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       Darkened, p.1

           Daniel C. Kings
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  ...Love doesn’t tell lies




  Patola Technologies Co.

  Shop B2, ABO Shopping Complex,

  Delta State University, Abraka.

  ISBN: 978-978-53461-8-3

  (c) 2016

  Printed and bound by

  B&B Printing Press,

  No 32, Oduselu Street,

  Itire, Surulere, Lagos State.

  Cover illustration: Daniel C. Kings


  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or translated in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior permission of the owner.





  Dedication------------------------------------------------------------ 4

  Prologue-------------------------------------------------------------- 5

  A deadly dance [a poem] ------------------------------------------ 8

  Till death do us part------------------------------------------------9

  A call at midnight---------------------------------------------------27

  The bait---------------------------------------------------------------54





  This book is dedicated to He who was, He who is and He who is to come.




  February 10th, 1995. Green Gardens, Lekki, Lagos, Nigeria.

  Standing afar off, the stony grave yard looked ‘dead empty’. Joseph, who had finished saying a prayer, watched carefully from a distance; his mother knelt like one ‘provoked in love’, her eyes seemed to affirm that even in her ‘multitude’ of thoughts, she had comfort. Her knees cowered before a rock, while the field looked very green. Joseph had entirely witnessed this the umpteenth time. His dad, who he never met, died before his ‘mother’ adopted him. Though, he ‘lost’ his biological father eight years ago, he never felt ‘fatherless’. He looked at his mother in a very concerned manner-why was his mother always visiting his father’s grave? Why was she always sad here? He wished they would stop visiting this place, if all it could bring was sad memories. Even at such a young age, Joseph understood that they had gone through a lot. If the Lord had not been their help, their souls would dwell in a realm of silence.

  Now tired of seeing his mother in tears, he let the spirit of love lead. He ran towards her, while she stood and received him. Then he said to her,

  “Mom, why are you doing this to us?”

  His mother dried her eyes and let her son lean affectionately on her chest. Then they took a ‘new’ walk to the riverside. His mother looked at him,

  “Joseph, all I am trying to do is to pray.” She softly remarked. Now, Joseph knew that his mother always believed she could receive anything she asked for. She patted his head, “I don’t know everything to pray for, but I lean on my comforter, the Holy Spirit.” She lifted up her hand and as she spoke, her forefinger stood firm against the light, but noisy breeze.

  Joseph was bothered, why was his mother full of wise sayings like Old King Solomon? His mother reached for him and they walked farther into the old narrow path, till they arrived at a point. Joseph noticed this place was surrounded by beautiful oak trees. They both stood firmly on a rock now, Joseph watched in admiration.

  “Mom, I like this place!” He exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. His mother was staring at something else. He noticed her brown eyes seemed to pierce through the soft air, as she watched nodding.

  “Joseph,” her faint voice quivered, “can you see?” She lifted him up, her hands pressing side by side against his young ribs, while his feet struggled for balance silently­-now he could see the same grave yard from a distance, but so differently; so many graves arranged themselves on the earth like hard blunt gravels scattered on smooth sand. They could both see the fast moving clouds.

  She let her maroon coloured hair fall, while she lifted him up towards the sky as much as she could. Tears welled up in her eyes. She swallowed hard and brought him back to the grassy earth. She knelt beside him now, looking into his eyes.

  “Joseph, please promise me that you will not make the wrong choice and die unfulfilled. Promise me that you will love the Lord, forsaking all you are.”

  He felt a tear well up in his eye too. It was time; it was the right time to let her know what he experienced a night before.

  “Mother I will- and...” he blinked, “...God called me last night.” He paused to give her a reassuring smile. “God needs me to be a preacher-I’ll follow him mama, I’ll follow him.”

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