Amara smiled as she signed the tenancy agreement papers in Michael's office. Michael and his mother stood in as her guarantors, making the whole process faster and easier for her.
"You're so lucky to get this place. We had several people interested in the apartment. You got it because you came through, Pastor Michael. The landlord likes and respects him a lot, and that is why he agreed to give you the apartment," the agent said.
"I think God is the one that arrange everything. God must want Amara to live here," Michael's mother said, and Amara nodded.
"I believe it was God, too. Thank God for using you and Pastor Michael," Amara said, turning to look at Michael, and he gave her a nod as he watched her with mixed feelings.
After they signed the documents and paid for the apartment, the agent left.
"Amara, give me your phone," Michael's mother said, and then Amara handed the phone to her.
Michael's mother dialed Michael's number on the phone and waited for it to ring.
Michael frowned when his phone rang with a call from a number he didn't know and looked at his mother, "Are you the one calling?"
"Yes. Pick the call. We need to activate the SIM," she said, and Michael's frown deepened.
"Why did you not call your phone?" He asked while Amara watched their exchange with amusement.
"Because I want Amara to have your number, and I want you to have her number too. Pick the call," she said, and Michael reluctantly received the call.
"Hello? Is this Prophet Hosea?" his mother asked with a laugh the moment the call connected. Michael ended the call immediately and frowned at her while she burst out laughing.
"Mummy, can you stop calling me that?" He asked, and she shook her head.
"No, I can't," she said as she gave Amara the phone.
Amara laughed, "Why are you calling him that?" She asked curiously as she saved his number on her phone.
"To annoy him," she told Amara, then turned to Michael again. "It's past your closing time, abi?" Michael's mother asked when she glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was past 6 p.m.
Michael looked at his mother, not sure what she would say if he said yes. "Why?"
"Which one is why? Is that an answer? If you're not going home yet, we will leave with your car. That means you have to take public transport home," his mother said, and he nodded.
"Sure. You both can go," he said, not wanting to be in the car with her and Amara at the same time.
"Let's go, my dear," she told Amara, and Amara rose to leave.
"Thank you very much, Pastor Michael," she said politely before walking away with his mother.
Amara turned to Michael's mother as they got into the car, "Is Pastor Mike angry about something?"
"Angry? Why? Did he say something to you?" Michael's mother asked, but Amara shook her head.
"It's just that he is acting somehow. I don't know how to explain it. It's like he is angry with me or something. And I think he does not like that I'm close to you like this," Amara said, and Michael's mother laughed.
"Don't mind Michael. Don't let his behavior bother you. Now that we have resolved your house issue, I can leave before the end of the week," she said as she started the car.
"Are we not going to the hotel?" Amara asked when she noticed they were taking the route to Michael's house.
"No. Let's go to the house so that we can chat some more and eat together. Then you can go to the hotel after eating and taking something for breakfast tomorrow. If you want to fast, fast because you really want to, not because you don't have food," she said with a teasing laugh.
"I will still fast—maybe to 12. It has been a long time since I last fasted. I will start small small until my body gets used to it again," Amara said, and Michael's mother laughed.
"That's good enough. I still remember those early days when I first started fasting. I was a teenager then. That time I used to hide to eat sometimes," she said, and Amara laughed.
"Really? Who were you hiding from? Why were you fasting?" Amara asked, and Michael's mother laughed as she kept her eyes on the road.
"I was hiding from my parents and my siblings. It was general church fasting—those ones they say everyone should do at the beginning of the year. My parents used to force all of us to do it. At the end of the fast, every day, we broke with special treats. My father would buy something nice from a fast food restaurant. If you don't fast, you won't join in eating the treat," she said with a nostalgic smile.
"So, did they ever catch you?" Amara asked, and the woman laughed.
"Yes. One day, my parents went out, so I took soup from the freezer and ate Eba. I don't know what happened, but I started feeling sick later that afternoon. That was how I started to vomit the Eba. My parents were shocked that I was vomiting Eba because the last time we ate Eba was two days ago."
Amara laughed out loud as she listened to the story.
"Well, after that day, my father said I should stop fasting. I was not allowed to fast again, but I did not feel comfortable eating when everyone else was fasting…"
"But you felt comfortable before when they had not caught you," Amara cut in.
Michael's mother nodded, "Yes, my dear. Sin thrives in secrecy. This is why the Bible says, 'stolen water is sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant'. Even though my father said I was not to fast again, I started fasting genuinely then. And you won't believe I went from fasting from 6 to 6 to doing a marathon fast for days," she said, and Amara smiled.
"I pray I am able to get to the level," Amara said, and she laughed softly.
"You will, Amara. You're going to be a great woman of God," she said confidently, and Amara laughed.
"Woman of God ke?"
Michael's mother laughed, "Yes, my dear. You're going to be a great woman of God. I can't wait to see you shining," she said as they arrived at Michael's house.
Woman of God? Why did she say that? Did she mean it? Did God say something to her? Amara wondered as they went into the house.
"Sit down, let me quickly change out of these clothes," Michael's mother said before disappearing into the hallway.
As Amara waited, she decided to call her mother and give her the new number so that she wouldn't have to contact Michael.
Her mother picked up the call on the second ring, and just as she finished discussing with her mother, Michael's mother emerged from the room.
"I thought I heard you on the phone," she said as she joined Amara.
"Yes, ma. I was talking with my Mom. I called to give her my number," Amara said, and Michael's mom nodded.
"How is she doing? How are your younger ones doing?" She asked, knowing that most of Amara's pressure was from home.
Amara sighed, "She had lots of complaints."
"Come, let's go to the kitchen," Michael's mother said, and Amara followed her.
The woman said nothing until she brought out a storage bowl of soup from the freezer and placed it in the microwave.
"I stocked up the freezer for Tega. He likes to buy food a lot. Do you know how to cook?" She asked conversationally.
Amara laughed. "Of course. Why won't I know how to cook at my age? I'm a village girl o. We cook with firewood."
Michael's mother laughed, "Not every village girl knows how to cook. But I will take your word for it. Can I employ you to be making Tega's food every month?"
"Me? Cook for Pastor Michael?" Amara asked in surprise.
"Yes. You don't have to come here to cook. You can just buy and prepare the things in your apartment, then give them to him at the pharmacy. That way, you don't have to come to his house. I don't want him to always buy food," she explained, and Amara shook her head.
"You don't have to pay me to cook for him. If you send me money for the food stuff, I can just buy the things and make the food. All the money you have spent on me today is more than enough for me to cook for him every day of my life," she said, and Michael's mother laughed.
"I didn't do all this for you so that you will be his housegirl," his mother said as she put water in a whistling kettle for Eba.
"I know I'm not his house girl. If I had money, I would cook without asking you for money for foodstuff," Amara said, and then paused when something occurred to her, "But doesn't he have a fiancée or someone he is going to marry? Won't she be upset if another person cooks for him?"
Michael's mother grinned, "Are you asking because you are interested in him?"
Amara's eyes widened. "No o. Interested ke? I am not interested in him at all. I'm only asking because I noticed that lady in church yesterday seemed to like him, and they seemed close. I don't want any trouble or gossip from cooking for him. I know how church people behave."
Michael's mother smiled, "You are cooking at your house and giving it to him in the pharmacy. Nobody can say you are doing anything wrong. I'm the one who asked you to do it."
"He should do and get married. If he were married, now you won't be worrying about whether he is eating or not," Amara said, and Michael's mother laughed.
"Hopefully, he will get married soon. His wife is not ready yet. God is still working on her," she said, and Amara looked at her, wondering what she meant by that.
Before Amara could ask what she meant, Michael's mother asked her, "Do you believe in God telling people who they should get married to?"
Amara nodded, "Yes, I've heard stories of people God told about their partners."
"Have you started praying about your life partner?" She asked curiously, and Amara laughed.
"No o. I'm praying and thinking about how to survive and help my family first. Plus, I'm not sure I'm wife material yet. I will pray for marriage when I'm sure I'm ready."
"I started praying for my husband when I was a teenager. You don't have to wait until you're ready to pray about it. It's your future. Pray in advance so it will be easier when the time comes."
Amara nodded. "Okay, ma. I will."
"Good," she said as the microwave dinged, signifying that the soup was ready.
"I will make the eba," Amara offered when the kettle began to whistle.
"Just get me a bowl from that cupboard," Michael's mother said as she took out the bucket of garri. When Amara brought the bowl, she made the eba.
Just as they sat at the dining table to eat, the door opened and Michael walked into the house.
He was surprised to see Amara seated at the dining table with his mother. He had waited for some time before coming home because he thought his mother had gone to drop Amara off at the hotel.
"Prophet Hosea, you're here. Come, let's eat with your new neighbor," his mother told said with a welcoming smile.