Six months had now passed since Ije paid her first visit to Dr Melie’s clinic and yet there was no change in her. As the months came and went in quick succession, she became more and more despondent, and more so when she noticed that most of the women who had been attending the clinic with her were now expecting babies.
Dozie was aware of Ije’s despondency. He, too, was feeling crestfallen. His hopes had risen with Ije’s when they were first told of Dr Melie and his expertise. Now to both of them Dr Melie was gradually joining the host of those doctors who could do nothing for them.
‘Next summer you’ll go overseas for treatment,’ Dozie suggested to Ije one evening. ‘I am sure the doctors there will discover where the trouble with you lies.’
Ije welcomed the suggestion gladly. Summer was still months away, but what did it matter? She had waited for a child for years without success, why then could she not wait for a few months more?
‘Meanwhile,’ Dozie continued, ‘why not write to one of your friends in London to get you an appointment with a good doctor?’
‘I’ll write the letter tomorrow,’ Ije declared with fresh enthusiasm. ‘The best doctors are usually fully booked in summer so the earlier I write the surer I’ll be of getting an appointment.’
Two days after this conversation, Beatrice Ilodi paid Ije a surprise visit. Dozie and Ije were in the sitting-room eating fresh tapioca and coconut when Beatrice walked in. She was noticeably pregnant and looking very well. Ije had not seen her in Dr Melie’s clinic for months and had been wondering what had happened to her.
‘Where have you been all these weeks, Beatrice?’ Ije exclaimed.
‘In Enugu,’ Beatrice said, laughing.
‘I don’t believe you – I’ve not seen you in the clinic for months.’
‘I’ve stopped going there.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Beatrice replied.
Ije introduced Beatrice to Dozie as her ‘clinic friend’ and offered her some of the tapioca.
‘What can I get you, beer or soft drink?’ Ije asked Beatrice.
‘Have you a small bottle of stout?’
‘Yes. I think I have.’
‘Then let me have stout,’ Beatrice said and reclined on her chair.
Ije left to get the stout. She was itching to ask Beatrice who had performed the ‘miracle’ on her. Presently she was back with a small bottle of stout. She served Beatrice and asked Dozie if he wanted a beer.
‘No, not now,’ Dozie replied. ‘And I think I’d better leave you ladies alone. That will give you the freedom to gossip.’ He said the last word with a chuckle.
‘You can gossip with us,’ Beatrice said, smiling, as Dozie stood up to go. She was a happy woman by nature and her present condition had made her even happier.
‘Next time I’ll gossip with you,’ Dozie said and left the sitting-room.
‘Congratulations!’ Ije said to Beatrice as soon as Dozie was out of hearing. ‘What really happened to you, Beatrice? After some time I stopped seeing you in Dr Melie’s clinic. I didn’t know who to ask about you.’
Beatrice took a sip from her drink. ‘I attended Dr Melie’s clinic for about two months. After that I switched over to a faith healer whose church is near my house. I told you I would if Dr Melie failed me, didn’t I?’
‘You did,’ Ije admitted.
‘I need not tell you that the faith healer succeeded where the doctors had failed,’ Beatrice declared triumphantly. ‘I’m four and a half months gone.’
‘What a lucky woman you are, Beatrice. I am very happy for you.’
‘Are you still attending Dr Melie’s clinic?’ Beatrice asked.
‘Yes, I am. But quite frankly I think there’s nothing more he can do for me.’
Beatrice shifted in her chair. ‘As a matter of fact I’ve come to tell you about this faith healer,’ she said. ‘Maybe you’d like to give him a trial, too.’
Ije listened attentively to her friend’s tale of success, then she said, ‘I’ll talk this over with my husband first.’
Beatrice was surprised. ‘Do you have to talk it over with him first?’ she asked.
‘Of course, I can’t do anything without telling him about it first. Not that he insists that I do, but I like confiding in him just as he likes confiding in me, too.’
Beatrice shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, I’m different,’ she said. ‘I don’t always tell my husband about all my actions. I have my secrets. I’m sure my husband has his. You know what men are! You can’t trust them out of your sight so why should they be told everything by their wives?’
Ije did not comment on these views. She did not accept them but she left it at that. She had given her whole life to her husband, always taking him into her confidence and she had never regretted doing so. Reciprocally, Dozie’s love for his wife was noteworthy; a love that had been ennobled by the fact that Ije had married him when he had no material wealth to offer her.
‘When will you let me know if you’d like to see the faith-healer?’ Beatrice asked Ije.
‘Tomorrow evening, perhaps,’ Ije replied, and Beatrice told her where to find her.
After Beatrice had gone, Ije sat for a long time thinking over her suggestion. She did not think much of faith-healers. In fact she had looked down on them and had talked about them with contempt. Now she found it difficult to swallow her words. But her desire for a child was so great that it had always made nonsense of both her religious faith and her reason.
Later that same day she told Dozie about Beatrice’s suggestion that she should give the faith-healer, who had treated her successfully, a trial.
Dozie was sceptical. ‘What will this faith-healer do for you?’ he asked.
‘Beatrice says he’ll pray for me and will tell me what to do in order to propitiate God.’
‘But we’ve decided that you’ll go overseas for treatment in the summer,’ Dozie reminded her.
‘Summer is still months away,’ Ije stated. ‘If I succeed with the faith-healer, there’ll be no need for me to go to England again.’
Dozie became thoughtful. He had always believed that the faith-healers’ claims of success where doctors had failed were spurious, but he did not want to dampen his wife’s spirits. Besides, he reasoned, there might be one or two genuine faith-healers.
‘I have no objection, Ije,’ he said at last. ‘You know I’m dying to have you bear my children. I’ll sanction anything that will make our dreams come true.’
The next day was Saturday and towards evening, Ije called at Beatrice’s house to inform her of her decision to see the faith-healer. Beatrice was away and so also was her husband. Ije therefore left a note for Beatrice telling her she would be ready to go to the faith-healer’s church with her on Sunday.
Just as Ije was about to drive away she caught sight of Beatrice walking home. She waited for her.
‘I was just about to go,’ Ije said. ‘I’ve left you a note telling you I’d like to see the faith-healer.’
‘I’m very happy to hear that, Ije. Let’s go back to the house. This is the first time you’re visiting me.’
Ije followed Beatrice back to her house, and was lavishly entertained. Beatrice treated her like a very dear friend, although they had met only four times before, three in Dr Melie’s clinic and once in Ije’s house. Beatrice might be garrulous, but her kindness was enough to compensate for all her faults.
*
The faith-healer’s church was an unfinished building in a densely populated part of the town. Ije was dressed in the uniform of the members of the faith-healer’s church: a long white gown (hurriedly made the day before) and a white head-dress. She and Beatrice, who were a few minutes early, sat on a form at the back of the church. Gradually, the church began to fill up. Ije watched the members troop in barefoot, carrying their shoes with them and depositing them beside their seats. Beatrice had told her earlier, when she was enumerating the rules of the church for her, that members used to leave their footwear outside until a rogue made away with some of the shoes while their owners were at prayer.
At eight o’clock, the faith-healer, Apostle Joseph, came into the church. He was dressed in a long red robe, a small white cap and a deep blue sash. His hair was as tangled as that of a dada and his beard as long as that of an Ayotollah. Immediately he walked into the church he began an incantation which reminded Ije of one of the herbalists who had treated her. All of a sudden, the congregation became charged as if with electricity and they began to sing and dance as though possessed. The service was in full swing.
Ije remained passive throughout because she did not know the hymns nor the responses. Besides, she was shy by nature and was never a good dancer. She watched transfixed as the congregation were carried away by the emotive words of the hymns.
Towards the end of the service, Apostle Joseph announced that the new converts should come up one after the other to the altar to give offerings to God and to be prayed for. Ije was not taken unawares by this announcement because Beatrice had briefed her well and she had put some money in an envelope for the offering.
The first new convert to walk up to the altar was a sick-looking man. He was so thin that one could almost hear his bones rattling as he walked to the altar supported by a woman. As the sick-looking man approached the altar, Apostle Joseph burst into a diatribe against wicked people. He said the man’s illness was man-made, that the culprit was a friend of the man’s who was jealous of the man’s success in business. Apostle Joseph appealed to God to destroy the powers of this diabolical man and the congregation shouted ‘Amen’ in unison.
The sickly-looking man and his supporter knelt down in front of the altar while Apostle Joseph prayed to God on his behalf.
When Ije’s turn came, she walked up to the altar with her head bent. Apostle Joseph said that he could see God handing over to her a handsome baby boy. He said that all she had to do was to trust in God and to pray to him fervently every day. He blamed her apparent barrenness on a woman whom he would not name.
Ije knelt in front of the altar while Apostle Joseph beseeched God to break the powers of her enemies and to grant her her wish. The congregation shouted ‘Amen’ at the end of each sentence.
Three more new converts had their turns after Ije. There followed a general offering, and a final hymn brought the service to an end.
After the service each of the new converts had a private session with the apostle in the vestry. When Ije went to see him, he listed the things he needed from her in order to pray for her. These included twelve metres of yellow poplin, six packets of candles, and six big bottles of olive oil.
‘In addition to this,’ Apostle Joseph continued, ‘you will fast for a week, eating nothing between six in the morning and six in the evening. Twice a week, at least, you’ll come to the church for prayers.’
‘Thank you very much,’ Ije said. ‘I’ll do all that you’ve told me.’
Back home, Dozie listened to his wife’s account of her first visit to the faith-healer’s church.
‘I don’t like this idea of fasting, Ije,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you to become undernourished.’
‘I’ll be all right,’ Ije said. ‘I can endure any inconvenience as long as it will help me get what I want. At least I am allowed to drink water between these hours. Some new converts have been forbidden from drinking even water between six in the morning and six in the night.’
Ugo Ushie did not think much of Apostle Joseph when she heard of Ije’s first day in his church. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what the apostle would do with the metres of poplin, the bottles of olive oil and the candles, but she controlled herself because such a question could undermine Ije’s faith in the apostle. This demand by this ‘man of God’ only went to confirm the stories circulated about faith-healers who owned big shops where they sold the articles they demanded from their congregations. The offerings, of course, also went into their pockets.
Ije did not find her week of fasting unbearable. She took a cup of tea with plenty of milk and two slices of bread before six in the morning and this carried her conveniently to six o’clock in the evening. Dozie made matters easier for her by joining her in the fasting. He had reasoned that it would be tempting for Ije to cook his meals and to watch him eat his lunch. After two days of this experiment, Dozie commented that he liked it as it made him feel lighter and healthier. He added humorously, though, that initially the hunger pains had gnawed so hard into his stomach that he almost gave up the fasting.
During the following week Ije accompanied Dozie to Port Harcourt to collect his payment for designing a hotel for a firm there. They celebrated the occasion quietly and by themselves in their hotel. The one week they spent there was like a second honeymoon to Ije.
Back home at Enugu Dozie finished designing his dream house. He had consulted Ije throughout the designing and had included all the gadgets and amenities she would like to have in the house. He also designed a small bungalow which they would use as a guest house, and a small block of offices. His plot of land was a big one and would take all these conveniently; and the profit he made from his work in Port Harcourt was more than enough to pay for the buildings.
After a week of bargaining he signed a contract for the building of the houses with a well-known engineering firm based at Enugu. He took Ije into his confidence all the time and told her of all his moves, always seeking her opinion first before deciding finally what to do.
Dozie’s fame as an architect rose by leaps and bounds. The contracts he won were more than he could handle alone comfortably, so he employed two architects to help him. These were two young men who had just finished their national youth service. He also engaged the services of an accountant to manage the accounts of his firm in order to give Ije more time for rest.
*
Ije’s membership of Apostle Joseph’s church was short-lived. For a month and a half she attended the services on Sundays, went regularly in the evenings for prayers, and made generous offerings to God through the apostle.
One evening, after prayers, Apostle Joseph said he would like to pray for Ije alone. When everybody had left, he prayed long and hard for her and after that he told her to come to the vestry with him. There he offered her a seat opposite his and began to talk about God working miracles through people like him.
He continued, ‘God has revealed to me everything about you. You’re a virtuous woman, a loving wife, who’s as faithful to her husband as a dog is to its master. Am I right, Mrs Apia?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ije said modestly. ‘It is for other people to say whether I am virtuous or not. I love my husband dearly, though.’
‘I know I am right because God has told me everything,’ Apostle Joseph went on. ‘I wouldn’t be telling you all this but for the respect and admiration I have for you. I would like to see you possess that one thing that remains to make your marriage perfect.’
He paused. Ije was surprised at the apostle’s knowledge of her and her life.
‘What I am going to suggest to you may sound atrocious to you, Mrs Apia, but I am making the suggestion out of love – not the kind of love we all talk about – I don’t really know how to put it so that you’ll understand me.’
‘Go on, I understand,’ Ije said.
Apostle Joseph shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Then he said, ‘Do you know that sometimes God works his miracles through people – especially through people like us?’
Ije nodded.
The apostle continued. He was becoming a bit incoherent. ‘Some men, for some reason, are unable to father children. Wise women who are married to such men tactfully find other men to give them what they so much desire. This is not adultery in the eyes of men. It is not adultery in the eyes of God. Think about this, Mrs Apia. I have gladly done it for some women. I can do it for you too.’
He stopped talking. The ordeal of what he wanted to say was over. Rivulets of sweat ran down his face. He brought out a handkerchief and mopped them up.
Ije was stunned. She remained silent only for a second.
‘To hell with you and your church!’ she cried and stalked out of the room, swearing never to set foot in Apostle Joseph’s church again.