WITHOUT LIGHT

 

      Her heart kept beating rapidly; she had just escaped what would have been a ghastly car accident. She wondered why the headlights of her car suddenly tripped off; they were working fine before she left her office. One minute, she was nodding her head to the rhythm of what she'd describe as Rema's dopest ep, 'Raves and Roses'. The next minute, she could see nothing in front of her, and the next thing she knew was that she was speeding over a bump she didn't even know existed. Next, her car crashed into a tree. She didn't know whether to thank the tree for saving her from an untimely death or to get down from her car and headbutt the tree for destroying her car. She settled for the former. She put on her phone torchlight and got down to see how far the damage caused by the tree was. Surprisingly, her car was very fine. It just had a slight scratch on it. She said a word of prayer, thanking God for helping her avert unexpected expenses, after which she placed a call to her mechanic to inform him of the recent development.

     Afraid of what would happen to her if she stayed ten more minutes on the road, she ordered an Uber and gently went to sit in her car. She was just a few miles from her estate, but trekking was not an option. For one, the street she was on had previously bagged multiple records of rape, assault and kidnapping. She was not about to be another topic of discussion on the news. She had previously tried to drive back to her house, but her car was in a ditch. She didn't exactly know how to manoeuvre her way. Booking an Uber was her last resort. She left her car there as she saw what seemed to be her Uber coming towards her direction, hoping to get it delivered at her house the following morning by her mechanic. As if to confirm her suspicion, she got a call from her Uber driver stating that he had arrived. After double checking the plate number and the door handles of the Uber, she got into the backseat of the Uber and heaved a sigh of relief.

     It was about 9 p.m. before she got back home. She knew she had just one hour to be in the club. Increasing the volume of her music - "if" by Davido, she swayed as she waltzed into the shower for a scented bath; she needed to smell and look nice that day; she needed to be the talk of the night, and she knew exactly how to do that. Mopping the little droplets of water on her skin, she walked out of the bathroom while singing the pop song playing in the background word for word. By now her playlist had been shuffled to begin playing "Bloody Samaritan," which her wild friends referred to as "mad jazz." She smiled as she caught sight of the red dress neatly laid out on her bed. She was definitely going to paint the club red, and no other color would be able to compete with her.

      She walked towards her vanity mirror while still drying her hair with a towel. She saw what her mom would always refer to as the "most precious gift on earth"—her bible. She stopped mopping her hair and walked towards it. As she stretched out her hand to touch it, she withdrew her hand and repeated the lines she always said, "not now, maybe later". She pictured the dusty brown stool her mum usually placed the bell on. That bell was her alarm. She didn't need the 'Muslim call of prayer' to alert her that it was 5 in the morning because, by a few minutes to 5, her mum would be jingling the bell to call for family devotion. She snapped out of her thoughts, realising that she had a few more minutes to do her makeup and head out. 

       It felt as if the whole club paused as soon as she walked in. She got just the reaction she wanted, and she truly painted the club in multiple shades of red. The night didn't go by without multiple men offering to buy her drinks at the bar; others just wanted to grope her or have a dance with her. After flirting with over half of the men in the club and getting angry stares from the female population, her already drunk self decided to get some more drinks. She continued drinking even after she had taken more than her intestines could accommodate. It was there that a drunk guy tried to assault her. Her friend Suzan, who had been watching her for the better part of the night, decided to go get her. Tipsy Suzan managed to order a ride whilst thanking God for stopping her on her second bottle of alcohol. The ride to Cynthia's house was pretty cool for Suzan. She kept on sending "unholy" winks to the driver whilst trying to shut out the slurring voice of her drunk friend. As soon as they got to Cynthia's house, Suzan helped her out of the Uber and left her to take a few steps down to her house while she entered the Uber, started another ride, and continued to seduce her next target, the Uber driver

     Cynthia looked at the vanishing car and smiled for no particular reason. She staggered down to the front of her apartment, climbed imaginary steps, and stumbled. Almost falling, she caught hold of the door handle, fished out her keys and fell flat on her face as soon as she swung the door open. She woke up on the sofa to a banging head. She didn't know how to relieve herself of the headache as she had exhausted her aspirin. "A cup of hot coffee will do," she thought, and that was exactly what she did. She made herself a cup of hot coffee.

     She picked up her phone as soon as she heard it ring. It was a call from her mechanic. She walked to the end of her room and peeped out from her window to see her car. Her mechanic had already resolved the issue with her headlights. According to him, it was now brighter than a halogen lamp. Her 'baby' was back. She was glad that she could finally execute her plan of going out to find peace. She unlocked her phone to check the time. Alas, it was 6pm. How could she have slept that long? It's no surprise that the clouds were dark. She walked into her room to sit before her vanity mirror. This time, she was ready to pick up the holy book. For days now, she has battled with the feeling of restlessness and confusion. She was a thorn in-between God and Mammon. She wanted a good life, but she also didn't want to stop partying. She wanted to have a taste of both lifestyles, but it was practically impossible to sit on the fence. She had been partying with the devil for years; she didn't fully enjoy it, but it gave her satisfaction at the time. She picked up her car keys and drove straight to church, the same church she worshiped in on Sunday before going to the club on Wednesday night . That was her last hope.

    She heaved a sigh of relief as she saw the church building through her windscreen. It was dark, but her super bright headlight put her out of her misery a few minutes before she arrived at the church. Just as she parked her car before the church, she realised that all she needed was light. Without the headlights of her car, she wouldn't have made it that far. She would have probably crashed on the road or taken a wrong turn. She realised that her life was miserable because she refused to turn her "headlights" on. She had no light to see what was before her, so she followed anyone that came her way. She lacked direction, and to find the right path, she needed Him—the light.

    Cynthia shut her eyes tightly and heaved a sigh of relief. "How could I have been so oblivious to what was before me?" she asked herself. She chuckled sadly as soon as the answer came to her. She was blinded by the pleasures of life. She was torn in-between God and mammon. Deciding against switching off her car engine, she got down from the driver's seat, followed the path of the headlight, and walked straight into the warmly lit church auditorium. She walked down the aisle like a repentant bride headed for the altar to renew her marriage covenant with the bridegroom. As she said her prayers, she realised that the era of confusion was over. She felt peace flow through her like a sparkling clean river. Alas, she was free!