JUDAS...Part 10.

"Jude, what are you planning to do with your life?"

It was the second day in a row that Mum had asked me that question. Tessy had gone back to school and I was left at home with her. I had thought long and hard but came up with nothing.

"Do you still want to be a priest?"

I glared at her. "I could not even remember ever wanting to be one. I am glad they expelled me."

She shook her head. "You know Cynthia would be going to medical school. I would have loved you to follow suit. Your late Dad would have wanted that." Her voice faltered.

I let out a sigh. " I don't think I was cut out to be a doctor. I would be bored to death."

She smacked my head. "Look at who is talking! Confused boy."

I laughed.

Later that evening, I dialed Cynthia. I could hear the baby crying at the background.

"Nanny, what's up?"

She laughed. "Na your namesake o! My mum took him for immunization today. He has refused to stop crying. How are you?"

"Well, you know. Awake most of the time. Recently started thinking of what to do with my life."

I heard her chuckle. "You think it is funny?"

"No," she said, apologetically. "Not at all. What was your occupation in Judea, in your past life?"

I scratched my head. "Buying and selling. Fishes mostly. But I also sold anything that gave me a tidy profit."

"Hmmm. Then, I will suggest you do something that is money-related. Business. Accountancy. Economics. You seem to come alive anytime money is mentioned."

"Chai!" I said, laughing. "And you die anytime money is mentioned, abi? Continue."

"Na true I talk nau! Anyway, I will come over tomorrow. I have missed your madness."

"I missed you too." I heard her breath slow down on the other end of the line. My heart raced, pausing momentarily when the line went dead. I clutched the phone as I lay down on the bed thinking of what Cynthia said. Counting money seemed more fun than touching bodies.

"Judas." 

I looked up. It was John, the beloved apostle, beckoning on me. We were seated in a clearing under the shade of a sycamore tree, resting. John had been discussing with the Master. I stood up and approached them.

"My time is close at hand," the Messias began, looking at me intently. "We are going up to Jerusalem for the passover. It is already evening and we are going to pass through that Samaritan village." He pointed at the distance.

"I need you to go with James and John ahead of us and prepare a place for the night."

I nodded and set out with the brothers.

"What happened on that mountain last week?" I asked them, as we walked. "I noticed you have been behaving strangely since then, Simon inclusive."

They exchanged glances but said nothing. I shook my head.

We entered the Samaritan village before dusk. We asked for the village head and were led to him. We introduced ourselves. His eyes lit up.

"I have heard so much about your Master and his dazzling miracles. It would be an honour to host him here."

A small crowd had gathered in his courtyard.

"How long would he be staying?" he asked as we stepped outside.

"Just a night," I said. "He would be leaving for Jerusalem at dawn for the Passover."

He frowned. "Jerusalem?" He spat out in disgust. "Mount Gerizim is the rightful place of worship. Not your temple in Jerusalem."

The crowd chorused in agreement. He turned to them.

"Should we allow Jews going to Jerusalem to pass the night here?"

"No!" they shouted.

He turned to us. "You heard them. Tell your Master to go through another route."

We left the courtyard, disappointed. James fumed in anger.

"Ingrates! Just last week, we healed all their sick. I will call down fire from heaven to consume them..."

His statement was interrupted by shrieks coming from behind us. We turned. The courtyard and the adjacent buildings were on fire. People scrambled for the door. A burly man emerged, his burning robes gathering more flames as he ran. After a short distance he fell, the flames engulfing him. He gave a blood-curdling cry.

"Jude!"

I sat up, panting heavily. I was drenched in sweat. Mum was at the door, a curious look on her face.

"You were tossing and turning in your sleep. What is wrong?"

I shook my head. "Another bad dream."

She folded her hands across her chest and approached the bed. "What was it about?"

"Burning Samaritans. It was horrible."

"Tufiakwa! God forbid." She snapped her fingers. "Any recognized faces, names?"

I shook my head. "Everything happened so fast."

"Nwa m, don't worry." She rubbed my head. "The God of Mama Cynthia will not allow this happen. Oya, come and eat."

I followed her downstairs for dinner.

The next morning, I met her at the door on her way to court.

"Are you going driving today?" she asked.

I nodded. "I would be entering the main road again today. To build my confidence."

"Ok o. Be very careful. Take the Corolla. On no account should you remove the 'learner' sign on the car."

I nodded again, looking away. I had removed the sign two days ago and Mum was furious when she found out. I saw her off to the garage and walked  back to the house.

An hour later, Cynthia came. We ate breakfast together.

"I had another dream last night," I said, sipping the hot tea.

She almost choked on her bread. "What? I thought they have stopped."

I shook my head.

"What was this one about?" 

I narrated the dream to her. She stood up and picked her phone.

"What are you doing?" I asked, surprised.

"Calling the Enugu State Fire Service. They need to be warned."

I watched her pace the room as she awaited a response from the other end.

"Hello, is this the Fire Service? Ok, good. I am calling about a fire... No...It has not happened yet, but may happen today...No, I am not crazy. What do you mean?... You don't understand me? Oh...Wait. You are calling me an arsonist? Hello...Hello..." She threw up her hand in defeat.

"No one would believe you," I said.

She was still shaking her head. "He hung up on me. He was even insinuating that I was planning to burn a place down. Could you imagine that?"

"I just pray nothing happens," I said. "I need to go driving and clear my head. Do you want to come with me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Is that a question? Seriously?"

I lunged forward to tickle her ribs. She ran out of the house, laughing.

I steered the Corolla expertly down the street and onto the main road.

I made sure to stay at the right side of the road. Driving an automatic vehicle seemed quite easy. The car's stereo blasted Naija hip-hop music as Cynthia nodded to the beats.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as we passed a traffic light.

"Nowhere in particular. Everywhere. Just driving around."

"I hope you have enough fuel."

"Sure." The fuel tank was half-full and that, by my calculation, was enough. We made a right turn and entered Agbani Road. I pressed harder on the throttle. The car accelerated. Cynthia tapped me. I slowed down.

"What is happening up there?" she asked, pointing ahead.

"Where?" I asked, following her hand.

At the middle of the road, a bus was making a hasty U-turn. The persons standing by appeared to be shouting. I looked further ahead to see the cause of the panic. A petrol tanker was approaching the turning bus at top speed, swerving from side to side.

"That tanker is moving too fast," I said, alarmed.

"It is headed in our direction. The way it is swerving, I doubt if the driver has it under control," Cynthia said, her voice filled with concern.

What happened next was shocking. The tanker rammed into the bus and swerved, landing on its side. It skidded for some time, and stopped three vehicles away. I had brought the car to a screeching halt and held the steering wheel, paralyzed with fear. I made to reverse the car but another vehicle was blocking my rear. In an instant, the tanker's lids opened and a near-colourless fluid gushed forth spilling on everything nearby. It showered on the Corolla's windscreen and roof. For a moment, I wished it were water. But I knew better. Even the car's air conditioning could not suppress the choking, nauseating smell. Petrol.

I turned in time to see the blood drain from Cynthia's face. Hell was here.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

JUDAS...Part 9.

The cold blast from the car's air-conditioning unit quickly dried the sweat gathering on my brow. I peered into Mama Cynthia's face again to be certain for the upteenth time and gave an exasperated sigh. The face and the voice were unmistakable. She was the woman in the dream. I was seated to her left, occasionally bearing the weight of her protruding abdomen as she writhed from side to side in the back seat, whimpering endlessly. This good woman? To die? I shook my head in agony as I suppressed the urge to scream.

"Monica die ya, inugo? Bear the pain," Mum said from the steering wheel.

"Madam, it has been long nau. I have forgotten how painful it used to be." She hit Cynthia on the arm. "Na you put me for this wahala. Every time 'I need a sibling' 'Mummy, born baby'. As if to say e dey easy."

Cynthia smiled, tapping me. "At least, I don't get to be an only child again."

Tessy chuckled in the front seat.

I looked away and fought back the tears that had gathered in my eyes. The bright street lights provided little comfort.

"Why aren't we taking her to Dad's hospital, her hospital?" Tessy asked.

"Dad was an Orthopaedic Surgeon. She needs an Obstetrician," Mum said, slowing down at a traffic light.

The Land Cruiser took a right turn and slowed as we approached the hospital gate. Mum honked twice. A security man in blue uniform appeared and opened the gate. We drove in. A nurse approached us.

"She is in labour," Mum told her, pointing at Mama Cynthia.

The nurse went in and returned with a wheelchair. We helped Mama Cynthia into it.

I sat at the reception with Tessy while Mama Cynthia, Mum and Cynthia entered the doctor's office.

"Women dey try o!" Tessy said, looking at me. "Later, una go come de claim superior." She playfully slapped the back of my head. I shook my head and looked away.

"Jude, you've been silent. What's the matter?"

I wanted to tell her about Mama Cynthia, but could not find the words.

"Is it about the dream?"

I nodded.

"You said you saw a woman?"

I nodded again. "The woman..."

Just then, Cynthia stormed out of the doctor's office. I stood up, alarmed. She was crying

"What is wrong?" I asked.

She shook her head. I held her and we led her outside.

"I just found out my Mum had three earlier miscarriages. She told the doctor inside," she said, amidst sobs. 

"I remember one incident clearly. She came back very happy and told me we were going to have another baby. I was mad with joy and proceeded to split my toys in half. I waited and waited. There was no baby. Instead, she became very, very sad. She and my dad quarelled often over it but I never understood."

I placed my arms around her shoulders and wiped off her tears with my hands. "You should be glad that in some hours, you will have a sibling. Brother or sister? Choose one."

She tried to force a smile. "Brother, any time."

"Jude had another dream."

I shot Tessy a reprimanding look, but it was already late.

"When?" Cynthia asked, removing my arm from her shoulders. "I thought they had stopped."

"They stopped. Until this evening."

"This evening?" Cynthia asked. "Tell me about it."

I paused for a moment unsure of how to start. "I saw a woman in an ocean of blood. She called on me to save her. I tried. The blood was slippery. She drowned."

Cynthia stared at me in horror. "A woman? Did you hear her name? Or maybe recognize her face?"

I nodded.

"You recognized her?" Tessy asked, surprised.

I nodded again, my lips quivering.

"Who?" they asked, fear and curiosity etched on their faces.

I looked to the ground, inwardly cursing myself for drifting to sleep that evening.

Cynthia held my hand. "Jude. Tell me who you saw. Maybe we could still prevent this."

"Your mum...I saw your mum."

The rustling of the leaves of a nearby tree punctuated the awkward silence that followed.

"What?" Cynthia asked in disbelief. "How could you be so sure?"

Tears flowed freely from her eyes. I blinked hard.

Just then, Mum appeared at the doorway.

"I was looking for you and Tessy." She looked at Cynthia and then at me. "What is wrong?"

"Mama Cynthia was the woman Jude saw in the dream this evening," Tessy said.

"The devil is a liar!" Mum shouted. "Mba nu!" She turned to me, the burning question in her eyes. I nodded.

She stomped her feet on the ground. "Enough is enough! We must do something. Anything!"

We rushed inside. A young, bespectacled doctor met us.

"Doctor," Mum began, "That patient we brought...Her life may be in danger."

The doctor looked at us, bewildered. "How exactly, Madam?"

"She may be in danger of death, Sir," Mum said, looking at me.

The doctor smiled. He selected a folder from the pile he was holding.

"Her vital signs are good,"he said, flipping through it. "The baby is fine as well. Labour is progressing normally and should likely be over in six hours. I don't understand the panic."

Cynthia looked at me, teary-eyed. I looked at Mum. Mum shrugged.

"If you say so, Doctor. But just keep an eye on her."

He adjusted his spectacles. "That's what I do best, Madam."

He led us to the waiting room and left to attend to another patient.

The night wore on, uneventfully. Cynthia, however, was restless. I paced the corridors with her. Mum and Tessy were praying at one end.

"Tell me the dream again. Don't miss any details..."

"Ahn ahn Cynth! I have told you ten times already."

Just then, her phone rang. "Hello, Daddy... Eh, she is fine...The labour is going well...Jude, his mother and sister are here. They have been very helpful...Okay. Let me take the phone to her..."

She entered the labour room to give her mother the phone.

She came out after some time and tucked the phone away in her denim's pocket. She grabbed my hand.

"Promise me nothing would happen to my mother."

I took her in my arms and patted her back. "I pray nothing happens."

We strolled into the waiting room and sat down watching the hands of the clock move.

"Judas. Bring me the foal."

Thomas touched me. "The Master is talking to you."

It was days to the Passover and we had just returned from Bethany and were about to go up into Jerusalem.

I looked at the Messias. He beckoned on me, his right hand outstretched. I went to unfasten the unridden donkey from the tree and led it by the halter to the Master.

I removed my robe and placed it on the donkey's bare back and handed the halter to the Master. He mounted it.

"Hossana to the Son of David!" I shouted and the other apostles followed suit.

Just then, the donkey brayed. The bray turned into piercing cries.

"Jude!" I opened my eyes, startled. Cynthia was standing, nudging me. "Wake up! My mother has delivered! A baby boy!"

I stood up quickly and ran with her towards the labour room. I could hear the cries of the baby.

The nurse rushed out of labour room and ran towards the doctor's office. She ran back with a packet of some drugs.

Cynthia and I exchanged surprised glances. Mum and Tessy ran towards the door of the labour room.

The doctor came out and called us to a corner.

"Doctor, what is wrong?" Mum asked, her brow furrowed.

"She is bleeding heavily. She has lost a lot of blood already. Her blood group is O-negative and unfortunately, we don't have O-negative blood in our blood bank."

"So, what do we do? Can't she receive from O-positive?" Mum asked, her arms on her head.

"No. O-negative can only receive O-negative blood. You have to search the hospitals around to see if they have."

"Chei! At this time of the night? It is 3 am, Doctor."

"Mr. Udom!" the doctor called out to the lab scientist. "Please, collect their blood samples for grouping and cross-matching." He pointed at us. "We need to work fast!" 

He hurried into the labour room.

We followed Mr. Udom to the lab. I winced as the needle entered my skin, red fluid gradually filling the syringe. In an instant, he was done. He also gave us directions to some hospitals with functioning blood banks.

"Cynthia, stay with your mum. We are going in search of blood. Jude will keep in touch with you on the phone," Mum said as we made for the exit.

We ran to the car and sped off. The first two hospitals had no O-negative blood. 

I dialed Cynthia. From her voice, I knew she was crying.

"They said she is going into shock...still bleeding...the doctor said something about uterine atony...Please, hurry!" Her voice disappeared in trail of sobs.

We rushed to the third hospital.

The nurse walked us to the lab, knocking repeatedly on the door.

A bald, middle-aged man answered, a frown on his face.

"They need O-negative blood," the nurse said.

"Ahn ahn! Nurse Ngozi took the only one we have to the ward about fifteen minutes ago.

We raced to the ward. The blood bag was hanging, its content dripping slowly into the forearm of an emaciated patient. I shook my head in despair.

"You may have to go to UNTH, Ituku-Ozalla. But it will take more than an hour to go and come back. That road is also lonely."

We rushed to the car. Just then the phone rang. Cynthia.

"How is she?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"Still bleeding," she said. "The doctor said you should come back."

"Why? We haven't gotten the blood. We are on our way to UNTH..."

"Jude. You are O-negative. Your blood matched hers."

The screeching tyres brought the Land Cruiser to a standstill. We jumped down, slamming the doors behind us. I ran straight to the lab. Mr. Udom gave me a ball to press and inserted a big needle just above my forearm. Blood flowed through a connecting transparent pipe into a bag. The thumping in my heart outweighed the dizziness in my head.

I closed my eyes. Time seemed to crawl. I felt drained.

"We are done here," Mr. Udom said, after what seemed like a lifetime. He put a ball of cotton wool on the puncture point and told me to press on it. He ran with the blood towards the labour room.

"Jude."

I opened my eyes. The blinding rays of sunshine filtering through the windows greeted me.

"You are still lying here," Cynthia said. She was rocking the baby.

"I must have slept off."

"Oh! You have woken. I didn't want to disturb your sleep,"Mr. Udom said, smiling. "Oya, leave my office!"

Just then, I remembered. "How is your mother?"

Cynthia smiled. "The Lord is the ruler of the entire universe. Life and death are in His hands."

I muttered a silent prayer of gratitude.

"After the transfusion, the bleeding stopped. The doctor said she would still need at least two more pints of blood. But for now, she is out of the woods. I don't know how to thank you."

I smiled weakly.

As we walked out of the lab, Cynthia turned to face me.

"There is something else." She was holding the baby to her chest.

I looked at her, swallowing hard. "What?"

"She named the baby Jude."

I tried to fight back the tears. I could not.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 8.

I watched them lower the coffin into the ground. Mum broke down in tears.

"Di m oma anaa!" she screamed. "My lovely husband is gone!"

Uncle Obi held her shoulders. I shook my head where I stood, a mixture of emotions coursing through me.

You should have done something, Jude. You failed your Dad. 

"I didn't know," I muttered inaudibly. "I didn't know he would die."

Liar! You saw it. Why didn't you tell him about the dream?

I held my head to shut out the voices. Guilt was eating me alive.

I was called upon to pour sand into his grave, after Mum. My hands trembled as I held the shovel. I felt dizzy as I looked into the grave. The golden casket glistened in the midday sun, few clods of earth scattered on the surface. I angled the shovel and let go. The sound of the lumps of earth landing on the casket rang in my ears. I handed the shovel over to Tessy. She avoided my eyes.

Wailing erupted as two young men started covering the grave with earth. I wondered about Dad. Is he seeing all this? The crowd gathered in his honour? Is he feeling the weight of the six foot of earth being showered upon his casket? Is he aware that his death has torn us all apart? I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned. Cynthia was standing with her heavily pregnant mum. 

"I am sorry for your loss," Mama Cynthia said, wiping her eyes. They were red from crying. "Oga was a great man." 

I nodded in agreement. My eyes shifted to Cynthia. She was dressed in a black gown, her hair rolled into a bun. She was looking at me intently. She shifted her gaze towards the house and then back at me. I understood.

We walked up the stairs to my room in silence. Tessy met us at the passage and glared at me. Her loud hiss trailed us. Cynthia shut the door as we entered.

"The Governor's death is all over the news,"she said.

I looked at her. There was fear in her eyes.

"Jude, you saw these things before they happened. It is no more a coincidence."

"Cynth, do you know how terrible I feel right now? That I saw my father's death but couldn't prevent it?"

I sat down on the chair, wiping the moisture in my nose with the back of my hand. "Maybe God is torturing me for attempting to kill myself."

"God does no such thing!"

"Really? Then explain it for me. Explain the dreams. And the deaths."

She sat on the bed and stared into space.

I felt better as the days passed. For three weeks, there had been no nightmares. The morbid fear I felt before falling asleep was finally overcome. The morning before he left for the States, Uncle Obi entered my room.

"Still reading the Scriptures, huh?" he said, smiling.

"It is the world I feel familiar with. The culture,the  manner of speech, the writings. I always feel drawn to it," I said, rubbing my palm on the leathery back of the book.

Just then, Mum and Tessy entered. I sensed trouble.

"Jude, tell your Mum about your dreams," Uncle Obi said. "I think she deserves to know."

I felt ambushed. Reluctantly, I began narrating the nightmares and the corresponding deaths.

By the time I was done, the room was silent. Mum and Tessy looked at me, stunned. Then, Mum broke into sobs and hugged me.

"Is this the burden you have been carrying?" she said.

Tessy sat unfazed. "You should have said something, done something, anything! If you did, Dad may have still been alive."

I shot her an angry look. "I didn't know, ok? Dad was the first."

Uncle Obi stepped in. "Stop it! You two! What Jude just told us ends in this room." He turned to me. "Have you had any dreams recently?"

I shook my head.

"Ok. Keep taking the drugs. And make sure you tell your mum and I any time you have such dreams."

I nodded. "When does your flight leave?"

"9 pm. In Lagos. My flight from Enugu to Lagos leaves by 4 pm."

I hugged him. "I will miss you. Thanks for everything."

He patted me on the back. "Be strong, boy. You are the man of the house now."

That evening, after we returned from the airport, I felt the strange urge to travel. Somewhere distant, preferably Jerusalem. I laid down on my bed and smiled at the thought.

It suddenly grew dark and cold. I could feel my skin thicken in goose flesh as I looked around. The sounds of roaring waves surrounded me. Lightning flashed across the dark sky followed by resonant claps of thunder. I felt my leg wobble and looked down. I gasped in horror. I was standing on a sea of crimson liquid stretching as far as I could see. The heaven burst their banks and it showered. As the drops hit my face, the warmth and characteristic smell confirmed my fears. Blood.

My whole body shook in fear. I saw the form of a boat close by being tossed by the waves. The shreiks of the panicked men was replied by more claps of thunder.

"Judas, save us!"

I recognized the voice instantly. Peter.

"Where is the Messias?" I shouted over the waves.

"He is sleeping!" Peter shouted back. "Do something fast!"

"Wake him!" I screamed. "Or we would all perish." I made a few steps towards the boat. My feet held.

Just then, I heard a female cry behind me. "Judas, save me!"

The voice sounded familiar. I turned. She was disappearing under the wave. I struggled to grab her hand. It was slippery. I watched in horror as the waves submerged her, her screams, silenced.

"No!" I screamed. But she was gone.

"Jude! Dinner is ready." Tessy was standing at my door. "Why are you sweating like this?"

I could not speak. I ran down the stairs to the living room. Mum was seated at the dining table. She looked at me and stood up quickly.

"Jude, what is wrong?"

"I had another dream. This time, a woman."

"A woman?" Tessy said, coming down the stairs.

"Did you hear her name?" Mum asked, fidgeting.

I shook my head. "But I saw her face. She looked familiar." I scratched my head. "I need to call Uncle Obi."

I rushed upstairs to fetch my phone. I dialled my uncle's number. It was not reachable. I checked the time. 9.15pm. His flight must have left. Just then, my phone rang. It was Cynthia.

"Jude, my mum's water just broke. I think she is in labour. We need to get her to a hospital." She was talking fast.

"Ok. Cynth. Calm down. I am coming to your house with Mum."

I put on some clothes and ran down the stairs to inform Mum. She fetched her car keys and with Tessy in tow, we left the house.

Cynthia met us at the door. "Aunty, thanks for coming. My dad travelled to the village but will be back by tomorrow."

"No problems, darling,"Mum said, entering the room.

Mama Cynthia was lying on the sofa, groaning.

"Jude, oya come let's help her to the car,"Mum said.

I held her right arm to help her up. She looked at me, forcing a smile.

In that instant, it clicked. My jaw dropped. Mama Cynthia was the woman in the dream.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 7.

"So, Jude, tell me about those dreams."

I was in the car with Uncle Obi, on our way to make arrangements for the Service of Songs that evening. He had been in the country for a week and assisted Mum in making the burial plans. He slowed the car as we approached a traffic light.

I scratched my head. "Uncle, they are nightmares. More like. And they come true."

"How?" His face tightened. The traffic light turned green. We made a right turn into Ogui road and sped down.

"First, I saw Dad fall off a cliff. He died the next day. Two weeks ago, I saw a rabbi die by crucifixion. The next day, the Pastor that came to pray for us, had an accident on his way back and died. The same man I saw in the dream."

His brow narrowed in confusion. "Don't you think they were mere coincidences, these dreams and the happenings?"

"I would love to think so. But something within tell me they are not. There is this very bad feeling I have during those nightmares. A terrible feeling I can't put into words."

He shook his head slowly, looking straight at the road. "In all my years  as a Psychiatrist, I have never come across a case like yours. There is actually no empirical evidence linking these dreams to these deaths."

I was silent. The events of the previous two weeks had shook me. Tessy had launched a full-scale war on me and called me all sorts of names. She kept noticeable distance from me. I entered the living room one morning. Mum was drawing up a list with her sisters, Aunty Nneka and Oby. Tessy was sitting on the sofa, reading a magazine. She stood up abruptly, as I entered, and made to leave.

"Tessy! Come back here! What is wrong with you? Eh?" Mum hollered.

"I don't want this boy to come near me. I don't want to die yet."

I glared at her. She had been acting that way since Pastor Kola's death. Mum had forbade her to mention my name in connection with the deaths. She resorted to another tactics.

"You know you are being very unreasonable," I said, trying to sound calm.

"Eh! Evil boy!" she said, clapping her hands. "Just dey your lane, i nugo?"

"Mum! I hope you all saw her abuse me, calling me names. I will slap her o!" I shook my hand in anger.

Mum held me where I stood. "Don't mind her, you hear? We will find a way to sort this out. Dad's death hit her so hard..."

I was still furious. "She should get a handle on herself. If she tries that nonsense again! Hmmm..." I turned and stomped up the stairs.

Uncle Obi came in from the States that evening and quickly noticed the tension. I had told him about the dreams on the phone and he brought me a copy of Sigmund Freud's 'Interpretation of Dreams'.

That night, he called Tessy and I into his room.

"You know, I don't understand this fight between you two. I know my brother raised responsible kids. That's why I don't understand this."

His gaze shifted from me to Tessy and back to me. I looked at Tessy. She was looking at the floor. I looked at the ceiling.

"Whatever it is, just drop it. Let this be the last of it. The Isikaro family is passing through a hard time. Don't make it harder."

We nodded and left the room. That was a week ago. Tessy is yet to talk to me.

The car pulled up at a compound. A white duplex stood adjacent to the parking space and the entrance said boldly 'Grace Events.' We sat at the air-conditioned reception. The receptionist dialed the manager, who came down to receive us.

"I got your payment. Dr. Obi Isikaro?" He looked up from his tablet.

"Yes. The Service of Songs is this evening. The burial is tomorrow and continues the next day. You got the address?"

"Sure. We will be there. I heard the State Governor will be coming," the manager said with a smile.

"Yes. He was my late brother's classmate. I was classmates with his younger brother so the families are kinda close."

We got some items from the market before heading home.

"Did Freud's book help?"

I shook my head. "My dreams are different from the ones he described. My dreams feel very real."

The Service of Songs went on smoothly. Tessy and I were clad in white, flanking Mum. During the service, I learnt a lot about the man who I came to call Dad.

"We are all witnesses to the number of lives he touched and his innumerable achievements at the young age of forty-five," the Priest said. "We should all learn to confront our mortality. And live each day like it is our last."

Suddenly, the voice sounded distant. I heard the sound of clinking coins and looked around. I was lying in a courtyard, surrounded by countless pieces of silver. More coins fell. I followed the stream of coins up. Apparently, someone was pouring them from the balcony. I struggled to my feet and made for one of the rooms. I saw a maid carrying a jar of water. I followed her. She was walking fast. I caught hold of her linen cloth. She turned, visibly angry.

"Shlamlek," I greeted. "Please, where is this place?"

"The Governor's court. Are you a Galilean?"

"No. I am from Judea."

"And you don't know the court of the Governor, Pontius Dike?" She shook her head and left.

I stood at the passage confused. Then, I heard footsteps. I ran into the adjacent room. It was dimly lit and had a table and some barrels at one end. I hid behind one of the barrels. A man entered, carrying a tray. He set the tray on a table and rushed to bolt the door. My heart pounded where I crouched. I watched him. On the tray, was a beautiful golden chalice. He fetched wine from a gourd and poured into the cup. He looked around and produced a small bottle from inside his clothes. He poured a little into the chalice and shook it gently. 

The sound of a coin hitting the ground startled me. He stopped abruptly and looked around. My heart skipped a beat. A stupid coin had stuck to my skin and chosen the wrong time to fall off. I watched him with trepidation as he approached the barrels.

"Joses! Where is the wine?" a voice called, from a distance.

He turned quickly, carried the tray and left.

I heaved a sigh of relief and stood up. I kicked the accursed coin angrily and emerged at the hallway, hiding in the shadows. I saw Joses at the end, passing a door, guarded by two Roman soldiers.

I knew I could go no further. It was the Roman Governor's palace and strangers were not allowed. 

The door was open. I saw Joses hand the chalice to the Governor.

"No!" I screamed inwardly. The Governor, raised the cup to his lips and drank. Joses hurriedly left the room. Minutes later, the Governor jerked forward, vomitting blood. The soldiers rushed into the room. Within  a short while, he was still, his head thrown aback in a grotesque fashion. I screamed.

"Jude!" I felt a hand hit me on the thigh. It was Mum. "Stop!"

Everyone was looking at me, including the Priest. Apparently, I had screamed aloud. I hung my head in shame. After the service, Uncle Obi came to where I sat and asked me to come with  him. I followed him into the house. There were people in the living room. I avoided their eyes as we walked up to my room.

"Why were you screaming? Another dream?"

I nodded. "You said the Governor would be coming tomorrow. What is his name?"

"Dr. Emeka Dike. What's the problem?"

"I dreamt about him. We have to call and warn him."

Uncle Obi laughed and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Jude, it was just a dream." His phone rang. He stepped out to answer the call.

Just then, Cynthia entered the room.

"I heard you scream out there. Are you alright?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Another nightmare. We need to warn the Governor."

She looked amused. Then, she realized I was dead serious.

"That's worrying. How are we going to warn him? How are we even going to get close to him? No one will ever believe a dream!" She was pacing the room. I watched her in silence.

Uncle Obi entered the room, his face pale. I knew something was wrong.

"It's too late." His voice harbored a deep sadness.

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"The Governor. I just got off the phone with his younger brother. He died of leukamia an hour ago, in India."

I slumped to the ground, distraught. Cynthia ran to where I sat, holding me. Tears welled up in my eyes. A terrible sense of loss and despair enveloped me. Laying my head on her shoulder, I cried.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 6.

We waited till evening to take him to the morgue. His death was catastrophic, to say the least. There he was, lying lifeless on the couch, eyes closed. Mum cried inconsolably. The nurses wailed. I sat in a corner, shaking, the nightmare of the previous night replaying in my head. Was I shown his death? Why could I not stop it? 

The news spread like wildfire. People began trooping into the hospital. His patients. Friends. Fellow church members. A group was praying around the couch commanding him to rise. Loud 'Amens' escaped our lips. We waited. He did not stir. Tessy came in three hours later. I had called to tell her an hour after it happened. She rushed to the couch and grabbed Dad's body by the scruff of his collar.

"Daddy nkem! Nwoke oma! Doctor m! I know you are just sleeping. Just wake up, please! It is me, your beloved daughter. Please. Wake up. Wake up..."

Her voice trailed off as she broke down in sobs, hugging the body tightly. It took the combined strength of the doctor and I to pull her away.

"Jude. I am so sorry for your loss."

I turned. It was Cynthia. I felt hot tears escape from my eyes. She hugged me.

"My mum called as soon as it happened," she continued. "His death is a big blow to the whole Enugu. He was well known and well loved."

I pulled her aside. "Did you remember last night when you called? I told you I had a nightmare?"

"Yes?" There was a curious look in her eyes.

"I dreamt that he died. Fell from a cliff, actually."

"What?" She stared at me disbelievingly and looked around to make sure we were out of earshots. "Really?"

I nodded helplessly. "I feel very terrible..."

"Just stay strong, ok?" She held my hands. "It may just be a coincidence."

We returned to the room. She went to sit with Mum and tried consoling her.

By evening, crude reality began to sink in. Dr. Isikaro was gone. He would never wake up. On the way to the morgue, Tessy's voice could still be heard beckoning on Dad to answer her. We entered the compound and pulled up at the drive way. An attendant came to meet us. His face contorted in anguish as soon as he saw the body.

"Dr. Isikaro? I know him! He treated my daughter when she broke her leg. Chai! A very nice man." He shook his head sorrowfully. The doctor supplied him the remaining details he needed. 

I helped them carry the body inside the morgue. The body was heavy. Tessy had latched on. Mum had to pull her hand away.

"He is gone. Let go." The sadness in her voice was heart-wringing.

As we entered the morgue, my heart stopped. In an instant, I was overwhelmed with the strange smell of the place and the sight of so many dead bodies. I felt dizzy.

"What's that smell?" I asked.

"Formalin," the attendant said, guiding us to where to lay the body. "It is used to preserve the dead."

We dropped him on a slab. The room was filled with corpses. Young. Old. Male. Female. All lying stiff. Motionless. Naked.

I quickly excused myself and ran out of the room, in search of fresh air. Once outside, I breathed in lungfuls. The irony of life stared me in the face. At death, we are all equal.

The doctor came out after some time. We entered the ambulance and drove home. A group of persons were waiting at the gate to pay their condolences. A condolence register was opened with Dad's portrait on the table, surrounded with flowers. Two of Mum's sisters came around to stay with us. We attended to the mourners till midnight. I wearily walked up the stairs, opened the door to my room and collapsed into the bed, totally exhausted.

I saw myself in a synagogue. A rabbi was at the bimah reading the Torah scroll. He was different, dark-skinned with grey hairs and white beard. I turned around. Sure, everyone was here. The Messias and the other eleven. I turned to James, the brother of John.

"Who is he?" I pointed at the Rabbi.

"Rabbi Kola," he said, in hushed tones. "A well-respected Rabbi from the West."

The Rabbi finished reading and the Messias was called on. He turned to me.

"Judas, follow me."

I looked at Him, confused.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. I was on a mountain. Three men were being nailed to the cross amidst taunts from the Chief Priests and Pharisees.

"Blasphemers! Renegades!" one Chief Priest, fumed.

The hammering of the nails and their cries were heart-wrenching.

 I looked at the three men closely. I could not recognise the first. The loving eyes of the Messias met mine. He was the second man. The third man was dark-skinned and had grey hairs and white beard. My eyes lit up in recognition. Rabbi Kola!

The crosses were raised. I stood at the foot of the cross watching the Messias breath and His blood drop. After some time, some soldiers came with a big mallet and smashed Rabbi Kola's knees. I winced. His scream pierced the mid-afternoon air.

"Jude!" 

I opened my eyes. It was Tessy.

"You were screaming. Are you alright?" She entered my room and sat down.

I was sweating profusely. "Sorry. Just a horrible dream.  What time is it?"

"8.30 am. Mum said you should come down. One of Dad's friend, a Pastor, came to pray for us."

I washed my face hurriedly and went to the living room. I froze as I entered. Seated on the sofa, holding a big bible was the dark-skinned man with grey hairs and white beard.

"Pastor Kolawole, meet my son, Jude," Mum said as I entered.

I greeted him. He smiled.

"I came to pray for you when you were in coma. I am glad my God rescued you."

Mum's sisters joined in the prayers. Midway into the prayers, Pastor Kolawole began speaking in another familiar language. Aramaic! I opened my eyes to make sure it was not another dream. He was standing there, bible in hand, praising God in a language I happened to understand. A smile broke out on my face. He stopped abruptly and opened his eyes.

"There is evil in this room." His tone was commanding.

Everyone opened their eyes and looked around in fear.

"Brethren," he continued. "There is war! The spirit of death still hovers around this room."

I looked at Mum. There was fear in her eyes.

"Jude, come forth!" 

Every eye in the room rested on me. I stepped forward, slowly.

The Pastor continued. "It was revealed to me that Dr. Isikaro's death was a ransom for yours. And death is not finished."

I felt uneasy and perplexed. Tessy was glaring at me angrily. Mum was looking confused.

"Jude, you need a serious deliverance session. I will go and prepare for it. I will be back next week."

I looked at him, shook my head and went back into my room. How could he say all those things about me? I dialed Cynthia and narrated the incident to her.

"Jude, you shouldn't have stormed out of the prayer like that."

"He was almost accusing me of killing Dad."

"Hmmm. Well, he sounds like a genuine man of God. You said you heard the strange tongue he spoke in during the prayers?"

"Yes. Aramaic. The language we spoke in Judea. I also dreamt about him last night."

"What?" There was shock in her voice. "You mean you saw..." The line went dead. I had ran out if airtime and was in no mood to leave the room.

I stayed in the room all day, reading the Psalms. Around 4pm, a loud bang on my door startled me. I could hear Tessy's angry voice outside.

"You evil boy! Open this door!"

I opened the door only to be greeted with a flurry of slaps. I held my pained cheeks in confusion, wondering what had come over my sister. She attacked me again. Mum drew her away.

"What is wrong with you?" I fumed. "Have gone mad?"

"You killed him!" She was boiling in rage.

"Who?" I asked, surprised.

"Pastor Kolawole. He died in a car accident at Asaba as soon as he left here. You killed him! Evil boy!"

I raised my hands to my head, my mouth gaping. I made to speak. No words came out. Tessy's rants faded into the distance as I sat at the edge of the bed. I was at a complete loss.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 5.

I stood at the edge of the cliff preparing to jump. An endless chasm lay below, littered with pointed rocks and sparse vegetation. The mere sight sent shudders down my spine. But I had to do this. I could no longer bear their eyes. Those judgemental eyes. The scoofs and 

snide remarks that follow each time I passed. I heard their voices. The other apostles speaking in hushed tones. They seemed to be plotting something. Elsewhere, some young male voices were singing in Latin. I held my head in my hands, screaming for the voices to stop.

"Jude."

I turned. It was Dad, Dr. Isikaro. He was dressed in a white linen cloth, just like the Messias. He was approaching me.

"Come back," he said.

I shook my head, stepping forward. I staggered, struggling to regain balance. The chasm beckoned.

"He who the gods want to kill, they first make mad." His voice was solemn. He was almost at the edge of the cliff, his arms outstretched.

I studied his features closely as he approached. He had a kind face. His hair had strands of white ones. But his eyes harbored pain. 

He reached where I stood, smiled at me and patted me on the back.

"Go home," he said.

I turned from the edge and made to walk away.

"Jude!" It was a shriek. I whirled round to see his head disappearing below. I rushed to the edge but he was gone, a white linen cloth in the distance, receding in the chasm. I screamed in horror.

"Jude!"

I woke up with a start, soaked in my own sweat. Dad was at the door, staring at me.

"Another nightmare?" he asked, looking concerned.

I nodded.

"Did you take your drugs before bed?"

"Yes, I did."

"Ok. Go back to bed. Remember we are going to your seminary tomorrow to see the Rector. Catch some sleep."

I laid down and waited to hear the sound of the door close before sitting up. I knew sleep would not come till morning. I paced the room thinking of what to do. Just then, my phone rang. Cynthia.

"What are you doing awake?" I asked, trying to keep my voice down.

"Studying, of course." She sounded very alert.

"At 2 am?"

"Yeah. It is the period I find very convenient. Everyone is asleep. No disturbance. What aren't you asleep?"

"I had a nightmare which woke me."

"Again?" There was a hint of concern in her voice. "What was it about?"

"Some weird stuff," I said. "We are going to the seminary today."

There was some silence at her end. "How are you taking the expulsion?"

I laughed. "I can't even recall being in that school. So to me, it is pure drama."

She laughed. "So, since you can no longer be a priest, have you decided on what to do with your life?"

"You mean besides marrying you?" Her laughter could be heard from my end of the line. I smiled. "Well, my dad wants me to consider studying Medicine to take over his hospital in the future but I am not interested."

"Well, na you sabi. You can go back to Galilee and be a fisherman."

I rocked back and forth in laughter. "That won't be a bad idea at all."

We chatted briefly about other things. Her parents and siblings. My hospital visits.

"You know, my case keeps baffling the doctors."

"How?" she asked.

"On one hand, they don't want to believe I am Judas. Yet, on the other hand, they cannot explain how I know the things I know like Aramaic, the entire geography of Jerusalem and Judea, the Torah."

"Maybe you are an alien, from Mars." She chuckled.

"I hope one day, when you become a great doctor, you will be able to uncover what really happened to me. Why do you study so hard by the way?"

"You just said it."

"What?"

"To become a great doctor."

I shook my head and wished her luck. Her ambitions amaze me.

A knock on the door woke me up. I had slept off on the seat after Cynthia's call. It was Mum. I greeted her. She looked at me in surprise.

"You are not even dressed yet! Don't you know that we are running late?"

I looked at the clock. 9 am. I showered quickly and dressed up.

Dad was waiting downstairs. We got into his black Landcruiser jeep and headed for the seminary.

The seminary was situated in serene part of the town away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Trees graced the large expanse of land, with the classrooms blocks lined in a row. The office block was behind the classrooms and as we passed, students looked out of their windows and whispers of 'Jude, SP' got to my ears. I figured SP was short for Senior Prefect. We met the Rector in his office. He smiled as he saw us and motioned us to seat. He handed me a letter.

"This is the most painful expulsion letter I have written in my twenty years as Rector. Jude, we wish you well in life."

"Thank you, Sir,"I said, standing to leave. I was indifferent. The drama was over. We left the office as quietly as we came in.

We rode silently to Mum's court. We dropped her off and headed for Dad's hospital. I scrutinized his face as he drove.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes. Just a little headache," he said, forcing a smile.

We soon reached the hospital and as he swerved into the parking lot, I knew something was amiss. The jeep overshot and hit the flagstone.

I looked at Dad and froze. He was slouched on the seat, eyes rolled up, motionless.

"Dad!" I shouted, but got no response.

I screamed for help. The nurses ran to the car with a wheelchair. We unfastened the seatbelt and took him inside the hospital.

There was a flurry of activities in the reception. A doctor was listening for his heartbeat and flashing a small torch into his eyes. I ran outside in panic and dialled Mum. Minutes later, she arrived and ran into the room. 

"What happened?"she asked the doctor. "I was with him not quite long ago."

The doctor was compressing Dad's chest with his interlocked hands.

"He just slumped in the car. We are thinking he had a form of stroke. Was he hypertensive?"

"Yes, but I think he is on antihypertensive drugs."

Dad was still motionless. Minutes later, the doctor stopped. He felt Dad's wrist again.

"No pulse."

He listened to the heart again. "No heartbeat."

He turned to the nurse. "Pupils are already fixed and dilated. Time of death, 11.00 am."

As I stared disbelievingly at the lifeless man before me, the distant chimes of the clock as it struck for the eleventh hour broke my heart.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

TRAPPED...Part 21.

We paced the room till dawn. As the light of the day filtered in through the windows, we knew we had to do the needful. Entering Old Major's red Volvo, we headed for the nearest Police Station. 

The policemen on night shift were still walking about the expansive building when we arrived. We jumped out of the car as soon as Old Major killed the engine. The policeman at the gate eyed us with suspicion.

"Wetin be the matter?" His left hand reached for his rifle, lying on top of stacks of old cement bags filled with sand.

Old Major said cooly,"My son is missing."

"Oh." He waved us inside, pointing towards the main hall.

The main hall was a sparse room with a wooden counter by the side and some desks at one end. On the wall, there was a large white board detailing the names of the inhabitants of the various cells and the names of the police officers handling their cases. I quickly scrolled down the list for Dan's name. No luck. The windows were still closed and the room was stuffy. I felt beads of perspiration forming on my forehead.

A stern-looking constable was at the central desk, with chewing stick  in his mouth. On sighting us approach, he quickly put it away and straightened his shirt.

"What can I do for you?" He sounded well-educated.

"We came to report a missing person," Old Major said.

The Constable's eyes widened. "Who is this person and how long has he or she been missing?"

Old Major brought out a handerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.

"The missing person is my son, Dr. Daniel Olisa. He was last seen leaving his place of work, Lagos State University Teaching Hospital, Ikeja, on Saturday morning. He was said to have headed home." 

Old Major placed his hand on Bola's shoulder. 

"His fiancee, here, said he never came home. We have not gotten any calls as to his whereabouts since then. His cellphone rang for a moment and has been switched off since then."

The Constable was listening intently. "Was he driving?"

"Yes. A black Toyota Corolla which he bought a month ago."

The Constable shook his head. He opened the top drawer in his desk and brought out some papers. "Fill this report. We will commence investigations immediately." He looked at us reassuringly. "It could be one of three things. First, that he was involved in an accident." I winced at the thought.

"He could also have been kidnapped,"he continued, facing me. I looked at Old Major. He was staring at the Constable, his face contorted in anguish.

"Third, he may have made an urgent, emergency travel." 

Inwardly, I prayed it should be the case, despite the seeming unlikelihood.

"Was he under any kind of pressure lately? Any strange behaviours?"

We looked at one another and shook our heads. I could not recall Dan behaving strangely.

"His wedding is in five days time," Old Major said, after some time.

"Arghhh!" The Constable was scratching his head. "Very bad timing. Kai!"

He glanced at Bola. She was fidgeting where she stood, a confused look on her face.

"We will try and bring your groom back, okay?"

She nodded.

He told us we had to wait for the District Police Officer. We sat at a bench adjacent to the wall. One of Dan's sisters called to ask where we were.  Bola called her chambers to say that she will not be coming that morning. Just then, there was commotion from inside the cells. A young man was shouting. 

"I am a Barrister, Godammit! You are a very wicked man! You made me sleep over in a Police cell. I will show you!" He was pointed his index finger at a Police Officer who was escorting him out.

"Barrister, you are not above the law. And you no fit do me anything," the officer fired back. "If no be for this man wey just come bail you, I for make sure say you spend another night in the cell." The officer was visibly incensed.

"What impudence! What effontery!" The Barrister was obviously spoiling for a fight.

"You no go respect yourself abi? Yeye man! Person send you to collect rent,  you collect the money, chop am. Come dey lie on top. You no dey shame?"

"Ladipo!" The Constable called the officer to order and asked him to go inside. He obeyed. The Barrister murmured something about insolent bastards and left the station.

"Bad eggs in the profession," Bola said. "Dishonesty will certainly bring disgrace." 

Everyone in the room shook their heads.

Some minutes later, a police patrol Hilux pulled into the compound. There was a flurry of movement outside. I sat up. Two hefty police officers entered the door, dragging with them three young men and a lady, all in handcuffs. One of the young men was bleeding from a thigh wound. The officer in the rear, pushed him mercilessly as he struggled to move with difficulty. The lady was dressed in an orange singlet and combat shorts. Her face was devoid of any emotions. The Constable sat up.

"Armed robbers,"one of the officers said. "They were robbing two buildings in Jagagba street. We were on patrol when we got the call. They had the guts to engage us in a gun-battle," he said with a sneer.

"And the lady?" the Constable asked, sizing her up.

"Na she be their leader o! You need to see her barking orders. We shot one of them dead. This one was lucky the bullet hit only his thigh. E for pierce your skull. Idiot!" He struck the one limping with the butt of his gun. The young man yelled.

I shook my head wondering what could drive a young, beautiful woman into armed robbery. There was a trail of blood from the door to the point where the injured man was standing. He was whimpering in pain.

"Oya, take them inside for questioning. After, lock them up in the cells. Idiots! Na for this cashless economy na im una dey go robbery abi? Devil don catch una!" the Constable bellowed. They were pushed into the adjacent room. 

The DPO arrived some minutes after 8 am. He strode into the room briskly and went straight to his office. The Constable followed him into the office and emerged twenty minutes later. He called us in. The DPO motioned us to sit.

"I have just been briefed on your case. We have three theories: kidnap, accident, or travel. I will assign a detective to your case and will like you to cooperate closely with him. If it is a kidnap, the kidnappers will soon make contact. Inform us as soon as they do so. We will also check the surrounding hospitals and morgues, just in case. If he travelled, he will surely return. But that he travelled is the least likely of the scenarios."

He turned to the Constable. "Assign the case to Sergeant Okoli. Tell him I need results as soon as possible."

We left the office and went to meet with the Sergeant in charge of the case. A jovial, fair-complexioned officer, probably in his mid-thirties, his eyes narrowed in thought as we narrated the events again. He had been briefed earlier by the Constable.

"We will start by searching the emergency rooms of every hospital in Ikeja and every morgue." His sounded determined. "If this is a kidnap, they will make contact, soon. Alert us immediately." We met Dan's sister at the main desk. Old Major briefed her on the progress made.

As we exited the station, I took a casual glance at the hilux parked in the middle of the yard. I froze in horror. Sprawled in the trunk was the bloodied corpse of a young man. The soles of his feet were pale. His face was swollen and disfigured. Some houseflies hovered around the corpse. Lying beside him were some machine guns with bullets scattered in the trunk, most soaked in his blood. I looked away quickly and felt a flood of nausea sweep through me. A young life, wasted. As I spat out in disgust, a bible passage floated into my consciousness: The wages of sin is death.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 4.

I stared at the mirror. A young, black boy stared back, grinning widely. I shook my head and made for the living room, trying to force a smile. My parents had organized a thanksgiving celebration for me. There had been a thanksgiving mass earlier that day. The Isikaros happened to be a popular and influential lot. My dad, an Orthopaedic Surgeon, owned a busy hospital down the street. His younger brother was a psychiatrist practising in the United States. He flew into the country for the thanksgiving. 

I stood at the door, hesitant to turn the knob. The surge of unknown persons staring strangely at me was becoming a huge burden. Suddenly, the door opened. I smiled.

"You have gone into hiding again, abi?"

It was my mum. She held my hand and led me into the living room. I was flustered.

"Your uncle wants to see you."

We greeted some of her lawyer friends as we passed. She was a young magistrate and an amiable woman.

My uncle was sitting with my dad at the balcony. We met Tessy at the door.

"Have you seen Cynthia? She was looking for you." She gave me a wink and left quickly to resume her food-sharing duties. I smiled. Tessy was my rebellious elder sister, a 300-level Economics undergraduate at the University of Nigeria. She was writing her semester exams in school when I woke up at the hospital and she came home soon after. She regaled me with stories of her battles with my dad, starting from when she chose to do Economics instead of Medicine. My dad had been furious. First, it was me going to the seminary against his wish. Then, Tessy choosing the well-worn path of demand and supply. She showed me all the albums containing the family photographs. I only saw images of strangers.

"Jude, Jude!" My uncle was smiling, a glass of wine in his left hand.

"Good afternoon, Sir." I stared at him intently, struggling to recollect. Nothing.

"Don't try so hard," he said, motioning me to sit. My dad excused himself and went inside with my mum to meet with some guests.

"I heard you were discharged from the hospital last week."

"Yes. I will be going for a check-up tomorrow."

"Any luck remembering any of these?" He motioned around the balcony.

I shook my head.

"I heard you woke up as Judas."

I nodded. "All I remember is my past life in Judea. Up until the suicide."

His brow narrowed. "You remember the suicide?" He looked around to make sure we were out of earshots. "I was told you hanged because of a girl."

I looked away. "I don't remember any of that. I mean, Jude's suicide. I recall vividly that I betrayed my Master. I expected Him to perform a grand miraculous escape. He didn't. He ended up dead. I could not bear it. I heard voices taunting and laughing at me. I tried to hang myself, but decided against it at the last minute. Unfortunately, I slipped and hanged."

"Sounds like schizophrenia to me. Jude, you are having delusions of grandeur."

"What is schizophrenia?"

"It is a form of mental disorder. Sufferers have hallucinations and delusions. They see things not really here and hear voices not really present. Are you still hearing the voices?"

"No. I just have occasional migraines and nightmares of hell."

"Hell?" His face went pale.

I held my head in my hands. "I was there. I will rather not talk about it."

I could feel my head throbbing just at the thought. Flashes of the caudron of oil and cries of torment disturbed me.

"Jude stop!"

I opened my eyes. My uncle was sitting there, looking concerned. 

"You were shaking your head vigorously. I think yours is a severe form of Post-traumatic stress disorder. I will come with you to the hospital tomorrow."

I thanked him and went inside. I walked straight to my room. Cynthia was sitting on the bed, flipping through a magazine. She was fifteen, a bookworm and too witty for her age. She went to a day secondary school and was preparing for her SSCE. She stood up as I entered.

"Where have you been?"

I sighed. "I was with my uncle at the balcony."

"You look stressed up," she said, taking my hands.

I nodded and sat at the edge of the reading table. My room was spacious, the red curtains filtering in just the right amount of sunlight. A wooden cabinet filled with books stood beside the wardrobe. There were stacks of books on the reading table. 

"It is still very confusing, isn't it?" Her voice had a calming influence.

"Believe me, it is more than confusing. It is debilitating."

"I am the cause of all this." She looked away. There was sadness in her voice. "I was the reason you attempted to take your life."

I held her shoulders. "You know, I don't get it. I don't get it at all. What actually happened? You need to help me make sense of it all."

She looked at me, misty-eyed. "We have been friends for as long as I could remember. My mum works as a nurse in your dad's hospital. I think we must have met there as kids."

"So, we are just friends?"

She tried to supress a laugh. "Well, technically, yes."

I feigned anger. She burst out in laughter.

"You are not helping!" I said, smiling.

"Okay. You asked me out last year but I told you to face your book and your God. You were a seminarian, for Christsakes!"

I listened on, amused.

"But we became very close friends. I was coming to the house, though, whenever you were on break. I enjoyed your company. It just broke my heart that it won't last. That we could never end up together."

"Towards the end of last year, however, something went wrong. You started sending me disturbing messages of how you were always thinking of me. How I had saturated your mind, blah blah blah..."

"I said all that?" I asked, laughing.

"Don't even get me started!" she fired back. "It was obvious you were obsessed. When I told you my plans of going to study Medicine in the University, you asked me if it was a ploy to dump you."

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. "I be correct mumu o!"

"One day, you called to say you were back. That you took a sick leave and came home just to see me. You invited me to come over. I refused. You came to my house. I refused to open the door for you. Then, you sent me this epistle of a text message of how we are irrevocably and intimately linked spiritually and supernaturally, of how you are going to prove it...you spoke a lot of grammar in the text message. I was coming to your house to warn you to stay away from me, when I got another text from you with just two words: Take Care.

I hurried upstairs and met your room locked. I knocked and you did not respond. Then, I heard that blood-curdling, stiffled, choking scream. I ran back and came at the door with full force. It flew open. You were hanging, your eyes popping out, your tongue extruded. On your reading table was a knife, some rope, razor blades and containers of Valium. I grabbed the knife and cut you down and struggled to loosen the rope. Then, I called your dad."

Just then, the door opened and my dad entered.

"Jude, can I talk to you for a minute?" I excused myself from Cynthia and followed him to his room.

"I just got off the phone with your Rector, Monsignor Adibe."

My eyes lit up. I was scheduled to resume the following week.

"You have been expelled."

My heart sank.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 3.

"Doctor! Nurse! He moved his hands! Jude moved his hands!"

A female voice was shouting nearby. I heard sounds of feet hurrying to the room. Where was I? Another part of hell? Where is the Messias? His loving look had enveloped me with pity. I had shed tears of contrition, albeit too late. The rays of light from His saving hands was like honeyed balm and soothed my soul. In an instant, I forgot about Lucifer, his legion of demons, the torments and the stench of evil in the place of damnation. All I felt was love. And inner peace. I was lost in ecstatsy.

The voices around me grew louder. I listened carefully. There were no cries of tormented souls. No wails of anguish from those been fried alive in the cauldron of boiling oil. I was yet to hear Lucifer's thundering, gloating voice. The voices sounded human. Someone touched my eyelids. Suddenly, I felt a flash of light flooded my left eye and then my right. I squinted at the light and tried to open my eyes. I saw a strange sight. 

I was lying in a bed surrounded by various boxes making beeping sounds. I felt a pipe in my mouth and another in my nose. I squirmed in discomfort. Some persons were surrounding my bed. A man wearing a white coat was looking at me strangely and moving my legs. Some females dressed in white walking hurriedly around the room. The man was speaking to them. Where was this? Heaven? A middle-aged woman dressed in plain funny-looking clothes was jumping with joy at the end of the room, occasionally bursting into songs. The language they spoke was not Aramaic but somehow, I understood them.

The man in white coat noticed my discomfort and told them to remove the pipe in my mouth and nose. I breathed fine afterwards. He kept looking at me with surprise. A middle-aged man rushed into the room and looked at me disbelievingly. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "My son! My son is back!" 

I looked at his face. I did not recognize him. The man in white coat spoke briefly with him and then turned to me.

"What is your name? Where is this place? Can you remember what happened to you?"

I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was dry. I gestured for water. I felt better as I gulped down the cool fluid. 

"Judas." I said, after drinking. "Judas Iscariot."

They exchanged strange glances. The man in white had a frown on his face.

"I mean your name."

I nodded. "Judas. Judas Iscariot."

He shrugged. "Do you recognize these people?" He pointed at the man who just entered and the woman who had been singing.

I shook my head. They looked disappointed.

"Where is this place?" I asked.

"You are in a hospital," the man in white coat said. "What was the last thing you remember?"

"The Messias. I was in the hell of the damned. The Messias forgave my betrayal and healed my soul."

They exchanged curious glances again.

"Who is this Messias?" He was writing something. But I could detect concern in his voice.

"Jesus. The Nazarene. I was one of His apostles."

"You are not Judas Iscariot!" It was the woman. She was crying as she spoke. "You are Jude Isikaro. My son!" The man tried to console her. I found her assertions very strange. How come?

The man beside her spoke to the man in a white coat. "Dr. Gbenga, what is wrong with my son?"

The doctor shook his head. "Dr. Isikaro, I think your son may have retrograde amnesia. It is not out of place given the trauma he had. But believe me, his case is a pure miracle. Most patients from failed suicide attempts usually have debilitating health challenges. Most who are rescued from hanging usually have their brain permanently damaged, such that they would need intensive care for the rest of their lives. So, I am still in shock that Jude not only came out from a month's coma, he is talking and moving his limbs. His loss of memory is the least of our problems."

The couple sighed in relief. The doctor said I should be allowed to rest and left the room. The couple sat quietly in the corner occasionally glancing at the bed. After some time, the woman came up to the bed. She was smiling.

"Jude nwa m. My son. I am overjoyed that you have woken up. Everyone had given up hope. Everyone, except me and your dad."

"You are not my mother. I don't recognise you."

She stroke my head. "Jude..."

"And stop calling me Jude! I am Judas. My father is Simon from Kerioth in Judea. My mother is Cyborea..."

The man stood up and shot me an angry look.

"Stop that! Will you?" He turned to the woman. 

"Cecilia, allow the boy some time to rest. Maybe when he fully comes to, he would give me a good reason why a sixteen year old seminarian from a wealthy home will decide to hang himself over a girl!" He stormed out of the room.

His words stunned me. Sixteen years old? Seminarian? I looked down at my hands and feet. They were dark. Is this a new life or the continuation of my old one?I looked at the woman. She was dark-skinned and beautiful. She looked worried.

"Madam, I seriously think there has been a huge misunderstanding. First, I am not your son. Second, I am no seminarian. Yes, I tried committing suicide, but hung by accident. But it was not and can never be because of a girl! I was married in Judea with two children before the Messias called me..."

"You are still a teenager. You have never been married."

I shut my eyes in deep thought. These people are crazy! Something is definitely wrong.

"Jude, don't stress yourself. It will all come back to you. Again."

There was something calm and loving in her voice. In a way, she sounded like the Messias.

Three days passed. I had started eating and walking around. The food was different but tasted good. I stood by the window and looked into the street below. The world had changed completely. No camels or donkeys anywhere. There were moving boxes called 'cars'. It felt strange but strangely felt familiar. I asked Cecilia about Herod, Pontius Pilate and the Roman Empire. She laughed and told me they are all history.

"We are in the twenty-first century. The Messiah died more than two thousand years ago."

She gave me a book. "It may contain some answers."

It was the Christian scriptures. I opened the book eagerly. It had two parts. The old and the new testaments. The old testament felt very familiar. My eyes lit up.

"Christianity is just advanced Judaism," I said, as I flipped through the pages.

"How?" she asked.

"Your old testament is just the same as the Torah, Nevi'im and Ketuvim."

She looked surprised. "What are those?"

"The Pentateuch or books of Moses, the Prophets and the remaining writings."

"But we have the new testament as well."

I laughed. "That was the advancement."

I spent the whole night reading the new testament. The story of the Messias was looking scant. If only they knew all that He did! He was a phenomenon. None of the writers captured His loving eyes. Those eyes that spoke tons of love. I proceeded to the Acts of the Apostles. I froze at the first chapter. I was replaced? With Matthias? I closed the book and put it away, heart-broken.

The next morning, some boys came to visit me, dressed in a sort of uniform. They were led by a man in white overall. My 'mum' smiled as she introduced them.

"They are from your seminary. This is your Rector, Monsignor Adibe and your classmates."

I did not recognize any of their faces.

The Monsignor spoke. "We are glad that you are awake. We have been praying ceaselessly for your full recovery. God has finally answered our prayers." He turned to my 'mum'. "He was our Senior Prefect and our overall best student. He was outstanding in History, Liturgy and Latin."

She smiled proudly. The boys took turns to hold my hands.

"We missed you, Jude." The Rector's voice was laden with emotions.

"I told you that you were a seminarian," my 'mum' said, when they left. "You were an outstanding student. That was why this incident took everyone by surprise."

"But I don't know those people!" My confusion was doubled. I needed answers.

My 'mum' held me reassuringly. "Don't worry. Whether you are Judas or Jude, my love for you stays the same. I can't believe I was this close to losing you."

She was sobbing. I hugged her. I may not remember her, but her love for me was palpable.

"Just give me some time. Maybe I would remember."

That evening, my 'father' visited again. He looked relaxed and smiled at me as he entered.

"The Rector was here today, with some seminarians," my 'mum' told him.

"Oh! Good," he said. "I just pray they will take him back. Though, it seems very unlikely. I hope he has taken his afternoon medications?"

"Yes."

"Are they helping? Has he remembered?"

She shook her head.

He sighed. "Dr. Gbenga also said he may also have a Dissociative Identity Disorder, which may be as a result of the trauma. That may be why he sees himself as Judas Iscariot."

Just then, a girl appeared at the doorway. She looked happy to see me. Her caramel-coloured skin and beautiful face struck me as she approached the bedside. She smiled at me.

"Cynthia, my darling. Welcome," my 'mum' said as she embraced her. She greeted my 'parents', all the while looking at me in disbelief.

"I am so happy you are awake," she said, holding my hands.

I smiled. That was the most I could do in the midst of strange persons who expected me to remember them. I have stopped tasking my brain since it came up with nothing.

My 'mum' sent her to buy some fresh fruits. I watched her slender form walk gracefully out of the room.

"Who is she?" I asked my 'mum'.

She shook her head. "She is your 'supposed' girlfriend for whom you hung yourself. She was on her way to our house to see you when she got your text stating why you were dying. Her speed to break into the house and cut the rope on your neck is the reason why you are still here, breathing. She saved your life."

I opened my mouth to speak. No words came out.

© Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 2.

The fall was long and rough. In pitch darkness, I heard millions of voices crying and screaming. They were also falling. Suddenly, the atmosphere became very hot. My clothes burned up, the charred remains clinging to my reddened flesh. I screamed in horror. I was burning and the anguish was indescribable. Some other falling persons bumped into me, and looking into the orange skies, I could see millions of bodies raining down.

I felt a pain tear through my stomach. I let out a blood-curdling howl. Looking at my abdomen, I could see the blades of a giant three-pronged fork emerging, with strands of flesh. I looked below in horror. A creature was holding the giant fork, grinning wickedly and in an instant flung me towards a cauldron of boiling oil. I closed my eyes in anticipated anguish and screamed. A strong hand caught my waist mid-air and with a dark, commanding voice uttered, "He is mine."

He smashed me onto the ground. Pain engulfed me. I looked up at him. He was a sight to behold. Handsome and imposing, he was the tallest creature I have seen. He was surrounded by countless demons, bowing to him and paying him homage.

"Judas, welcome to my kingdom, the hell of the damned."

I was shaking terribly as I slowly arose. "I don't belong here."

He gave a prolonged laughter. The whole place reverberated with his voice.

"He doesn't belong here?" He laughed again. "You passed Limbo and Purgatory on your way as you fell. If you were one of the Patriachs of the faith or died an unbaptized infant, you would have been in Limbo. If you were His friend, He would have at least kept you in purgatory for purification by fire! But you fell straight to me. To me!" He laughed again, his legions of demons laughing with him.

"I like you Judas. A lot. You helped me accomplish what I have been planning to do since the beginning of time."

I looked at him in horror. "How?"

"Do you know we used to be in Heaven, with The Creator?" he pointed at his legions of demons.

"Really? Why did you leave?"

"I am Lucifer. The former Prince of Heaven and Light-bearer, now the King of the Underworld. The Creator did something abominable. He showed us a vision of He who you betrayed, as a small baby and commanded us to worship Him. Imagine, me, Lucifer worship a human baby? It was the last straw. My mind was made up permanently. I will not and I will never!" His voice thundered in anger. The demons gave a piercing cry and raised their three-pronged forks in unison.

"Michael, my best friend, and his group worshipped the baby. We have had enough. I commanded my Legions and we fought them. We left heaven for them. Why live perpetually like a slave when you can be a king elsewhere and be worshipped? Now, we have men worshipping us!" He roared in laughter and his demons joined him.

"I have been trying to kill Him since He was born. But He escaped, even to Egypt. I got Him in the wilderness, but He was a fool, blinded by loyalty to The Creator. I never relented. And then you came along and handed Him on a platter!" He laughed again. "Now that He is dead, mankind is doomed forever! Michael and his cohorts will regret their decision not to join my army."

I was petrified. I looked around. The whole place reeked of evil. Millions of demons were everywhere tormenting damned souls. There were shreiks and cries especially from the cauldron of boiling oil. The smell of sulphur hung heavily in the air. The worst evil on earth is nothing compared to what happened here.

"I don't belong here," I shouted, again. "Whatever I did, I did in error. Christ..." There was a sudden earthquake that threw everyone on the ground, lying on their faces. Lucifer was the first to rise, after the quake, and gave me a blow that sent me flying into the shadows. Thousand of demons descended on me, biting, clawing, piercing me with prongs. I wished for death to come but it did not. My whole body was on fire and the pain, mind-numbing.

"Why did you mention that name?" Lucifer bellowed. He was incensed.

He came to the shadows and picked what remained of me and flung me to a demon who used a giant mallet to shatter my bones and skull. I felt my body break into a million pieces and dissolve in a sea of agony. Lucifer picked me up and threw me towards his throne.

"Don't you ever dare mention His name again!"

I nodded. I was damned to inhabit this zone of the dead with these evil creatures for eternity. I wept in agony.

"Whatever I did, I did unknowingly. He gave me a piece of bread and you possessed me."

He laughed long and hard. "Yes, I did. It is one of the means through which I operate. Diabolical possesion. I can torment you from the outside though. Judas, you were set up to be the scape-goat. Your act had been prophesied about and you merely fulfilled the scriptures."

His statement shocked me."Where is the justice in that? What happened to my free-will?"

"Don't ask me. Ask The Creator. Maybe He gave you an option to change your mind and you did not take it. Maybe."

Just then there was pandemonium. A female demon ran into the space, shaking.

"He is here. He-who-shall-not-be-named. He has set the souls in Limbo free."

Lucifer sprang to his feet. "What?! Soldiers! Prepare for attack. We have an intruder in my kingdom. Our kingdom. Let us finish Him now and for all eternity!"

The demons gave a heart-rending battle cry and chants of 'We will not serve' rented the air.

Then the earthquake started. Everyone fled to the shadows in panic, falling on their faces and screaming. Lucifer laid powerless on the ground. 

I raised my head and saw Him. The Messias. He was looking at me with love in His eyes. His hands and feet had holes and His side was pierced. He raised His hand in my direction. Streams of bright light engulfed me. And then there was darkness.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015. 

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.