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Rated: E · Short Story · Educational · #2319721
A story aboiut how religious beliefs have affected most African households
The sound of uncle Karimu's old and rumpled Volvo honks from a far distance. It is now a reality that my mother is gone. As the last child and only son, I was the closest to her and she was my confidant. My sisters would fume over her kind heartedness towards me, they felt I was being spoon-fed and I needed to be cautioned. I was a lucky boy. Several thoughts kept on creeping into my mind. I was crestfallen. Uncle Karimu and I struggled to carry the corpse to the car, I sat down beside my dead mother at the back seat and then we took off. It is a tradition in my mother's hometown that whenever a person dies, he or she is taken there to be buried.
My mother's plight began on a Sunday morning, it was a routine to pound yam for breakfast. I washed the mortal and pestle, suddenly I heard a loud noise from the back yard , My sisters and I rushed quickly to check what the problem was . We found our mother wailing in so much pain and her finger pointing towards a direction . She explained that she wanted to kill a snake , but slipped and fell. We all figured that she had a fracture in her leg as she limped whenever she walked. We felt it was a mild injury that needed to be massaged and rubbed with aboniki. I believed we were in control of the situation, until the following afternoon ,my mother told us to take her to our pastor for some sort of healing. I was confused and disagreed with her decision, I was of the opinion that we take her to the local chemist in the area since we could not afford any hospital bills . But I was shut out, they did not listen to me because I am the last child and I am not as old as them. Our mother was taken to the church to see Prophet Amos.

Prophet Amos is well known in the community for his signs and wonders, his congregation believes that he heals the sick. The prophet told us to leave our mother in his care , he made concoctions right before our own eyes and fed our mother. She was instructed to stay in the church for five days in order to become better. I stayed, prayed and fasted for my mother while my sisters went to work. Candles in different colours and stripes were kindled with fire and was put around her. Prophet amos called me to his office , he offered me a sit and we had a man to man talk. He said "brother Isreal, I dream of yea moda, she has been tied down by the evil forces that caused yea fada death ten years ago. As it is ehnn, we will have to pray harder, so that she will not give up but emmm". As he was about to round up, we heard a faint noise from a distance, pastor Amos and I rushed out to see my mother gasping for breath, the pain was so unbearable that she was writhing in agony. My mother was rushed to the hospital, the nurses took her in and we were left pacing up. An hour after, the doctor spilled the tea. He explained that she had high blood pressure coupled with a damaged bone cartilage.
Our ignorance caused it all! I exclaimed in a broken state as we arrived at our destination.

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